A little of this and a lot of that
I am getting the snippet up. The “must do” list from yesterday after the overnight rain lasted longer than I anticipate. So the snippet had to be pushed back until later today. Right now, I’m trying to get enough coffee in my bloodstream to be functional. Until then, I’m little better than a zombie that hasn’t been able to find any brainz for much too long.
Brainz. . . . .
On a different note, I live in Texas, damn it. We aren’t supposed to wake to black ice without there having been a much longer cold snap and rain or sleet overnight. So why, pray tell, are parts of Dallas seeing that awful, accident inducing traffic hazard? At least the sun is out—the first time in several days—and we aren’t looking at clouds and fog.
On an even different note, it’s been two years since we adopted TuggerCat. He was not much more than a kitten when he came to us. Even though the agency didn’t say so, it was clear from the beginning that he’d been feral. From the notched ear to certain behavioral quirks, it was there to see. But he was a cutie and he wanted to be loved. If we were patient and learned to read his signals, that is.
I got it after our old lady cat died. He was supposed to be a lap cat for Mom, who was recovering from breaking her leg and the surgery that required. What we didn’t expect was that he’d bond to me. Maybe it’s because I was the one dealing with the rep from the adoption agency when she brought him to the house. She put him in my arms and he burrowed into my lap. Maybe it was the fact she had to use a walker and that scared him. I don’t know, but the little bugger became my cat, whether I liked it or not.
That hasn’t changed over the last two years. He follows me like a dog. He will tolerate Mom, even going so far as to sleep in her room on her bed during the day. She can pet him. But try to put him in her lap and you get a reenactment of the cartoon cat grabbing the sides of the doorframe to keep from being put outside. But he will sleep with her—when he’s not sleeping with me.
His newest trick, and I use that term loosely, is to race into the bathroom in front of me. Usually, he’ll jump onto the dressing table and wait as I do whatever I went in to do. This morning, however, when I stumbled in after getting up, he ran in ahead of me. I saw him. I may have even petted him. (I’m not sure. I just work up.) But, suddenly he wasn’t there.
I was alone in the bathroom. The door was closed. Great. Just great. I now had a cat who walked through walls. Considering how warped his sense of cat humor can be at the best of times, this is not a good thing.
Before panic at the thought had time to set in, one of the doors in the dressing table slowly opened. Think of a door opening in a ghost story, complete with the ominous creaking noises. I waited, watching to see what happened next. First, a hint of a paw. Then a nose. Then this long cat body slid out and he looked up at me with an expression that very clearly said “DUH! What did you expect? You were taking too long and not doing your duty to feed me.”
Yes, I rolled my eyes.
Yes, I had a few choice words for him.
Yes, I fed him and his feline older brother after putting the dog out.
I am a well-trained slave to my feline masters, although they might disagree.
The picture is of the little bugger (on the left) and his older feline brother, BratCat aka “Dickface”. This is also a rarified moment where they both tolerate one another at the same time.—Until later!