Little Cat Feetnotes
I combed the fluffy cat last night, and got enough loose fur to knit a small kitten.
Ever since I started leaving the bathroom door open all the time, because otherwise there’s no air circulation in there and it’s like an oven, the cats like to hang out in there. Unlike most cats, they show little or no interest in curling up in the sink. They much prefer the stack of clean underwear I keep on a shelf so I can get partially dressed before doing things to my face and hair, then finish the job without getting makeup on my blouse/dress. I just hope I don’t get hit by a bus, because I don’t know what the ER personnel would make of furry underwear.
The most disconcerting thing is that they like to stare at me when I’m on the loo. This is just not right. After all, I don’t come and stare at them when they are using the litter box, do I?
Now that it’s so hot (112° today, a new record), Aliera prefers to nap on top of the filing cabinet in the office closet. I don’t know where Sethra naps—she seems to be able to dematerialize at will, a skill I envy her. Where DO cats go when they walk through walls? And why do they have to take my good sunglasses with them?
On one of my discussion boards, we are talking about our favorite Discworld characters. I had named the Patrician of Ankh-Morporkh as mine, but it’s a very close tie with Death, and I may change my vote. Especially since although he doesn’t like people much, Death is very fond of cats. In The Last Hero, which has so many illustrations it’s practically a graphic novel, there’s a wonderful picture of him with a kitten on his skeletal lap, and another of the same kitten chasing the Death of Rats, an equally skeletal rat.
I have a new catalogue from Drs. Foster and Smith, and the cats are going to make out like bandits. Cat toys, cat treats, and a laser-pointer toy for under ten bucks!
Wonder when they are going to present ME with anything? Other than hairballs, that is.