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Lessons I have learned. Cat wise,
a year ago
Mee-Rowrer Fellow FA Artists, writers, fursuiters, crafters, photographers, storytellers all, and other highly creative people.
My friend and sometime landlord Schirm has been considering getting a puppy, which would be fine by me, but I do wonder if I could handle it being more of a "Cat" person. It's been almost a human lifetime since I have raised a puppy, and decades since I've dealt with encounters of the Canine kind. Schirm wants to get a big dog, which could patrol the "estate" to keep unwanted people like Burglars out, and of course rough up the coyotes if they get out of line. I must confess that I really liked Schirm's Akitas because they were well behaved and friendly. I even "Spoiled" his all-white Akita and became a "Sugar Uncle" to him by bribing him with jerky treats and the occasional biscuit.
I knew that shortly after "Charlie," the second all black cat that was living here when I moved in died, I swore not to get another pet after at least a year or more, but we all know how long that lasted. Not more than three months after Charlie's passing, I got a panic email from a Jedi knights club member asking for a safe home for two young, "Housebound" cats that needed a new home quick. I decided to take them on, and my friend and fellow club member drove all the way from San Bernardino to Pasadena and the two cats, "Flynn" and "Rey" were welcomed into my home.
At least that's what I was hoping for. Flynn immediately sought refuge in the abandoned dining room, and later escaped out a broken window. Rey however, decided to stick around, but it took quite a lot of persuasion, (And kitty treats.) to convince her she was welcome and safe. Ever since, "Rey" has been teaching me what it means to be a cat, along with the advice from friends and fellow cat owners here on FA and of course on seemingly "Cat Crazy" Facebook. Videos and tutorials on YouTube have helped to a degree as well.
The best thing to remember is that your pet kitty is a predator, but hides this fact behind a friendly, fluffy mask of deception. These deceptive and adaptive felines have been persuading humans that it is not THEY who are the masters, but the cats are running things with velvet paws that hide retractable claws. I knew I had been designated the role of "Staff" when I first served Rey a plate of shredded car food, and she proceeded to make motions as if she was burying it in her sand box. No mistaking that message! I was fortunate to have a surplus of the gravies and stews that old Charlie preferred on hand, and as the days passed, I learned which flavors of food Rey preferred and how to mix "Just the right" ratio of gravy to solid food please "Her Majesty."
Shortly after the Holidays I twisted up my Left leg somehow, which "Crippled" me in a way that I needed a cane to get around the house, and merely walking from the house to the laundry room became an exhausting task, leaving me short of breath and feeling weak. Before this injury, Rey had me well trained to get up at sunrise and feed her, then I'd clean her litter box. I decided to add at least fifteen minutes play time after that task just to make things interesting for her. During these past couple weeks of wet and cold weather however, I have been tempted to sleep in, but Rey has learned to wake me either by doing a little tap dance across my sleeping body or purring loudly in my ear. I usually draw a compromise if Rey won't let me sleep in by making certain she's properly fed, her water dishes are full, and during playtime I'll wrap her up in her fuzzy, pink blanket to play "Peek-A-Boo."
With my daily duties done to Rey's satisfaction, I can latch the door to my room proper, and hopefully sleep in at least an hour or two extra. I have even learned to sleep through times when Rey gets "The Zoomies," and thunders up and down the hallway making a racket. She can make all the noise she wants as far as I care. It's just the times where a tremendous crash is followed by an unusually prolonged silence will cause me to start worrying. If the silence lasts longer than fifteen minutes, I guess it' time to get up and asses the damages.
"Peace."
My friend and sometime landlord Schirm has been considering getting a puppy, which would be fine by me, but I do wonder if I could handle it being more of a "Cat" person. It's been almost a human lifetime since I have raised a puppy, and decades since I've dealt with encounters of the Canine kind. Schirm wants to get a big dog, which could patrol the "estate" to keep unwanted people like Burglars out, and of course rough up the coyotes if they get out of line. I must confess that I really liked Schirm's Akitas because they were well behaved and friendly. I even "Spoiled" his all-white Akita and became a "Sugar Uncle" to him by bribing him with jerky treats and the occasional biscuit.
I knew that shortly after "Charlie," the second all black cat that was living here when I moved in died, I swore not to get another pet after at least a year or more, but we all know how long that lasted. Not more than three months after Charlie's passing, I got a panic email from a Jedi knights club member asking for a safe home for two young, "Housebound" cats that needed a new home quick. I decided to take them on, and my friend and fellow club member drove all the way from San Bernardino to Pasadena and the two cats, "Flynn" and "Rey" were welcomed into my home.
At least that's what I was hoping for. Flynn immediately sought refuge in the abandoned dining room, and later escaped out a broken window. Rey however, decided to stick around, but it took quite a lot of persuasion, (And kitty treats.) to convince her she was welcome and safe. Ever since, "Rey" has been teaching me what it means to be a cat, along with the advice from friends and fellow cat owners here on FA and of course on seemingly "Cat Crazy" Facebook. Videos and tutorials on YouTube have helped to a degree as well.
The best thing to remember is that your pet kitty is a predator, but hides this fact behind a friendly, fluffy mask of deception. These deceptive and adaptive felines have been persuading humans that it is not THEY who are the masters, but the cats are running things with velvet paws that hide retractable claws. I knew I had been designated the role of "Staff" when I first served Rey a plate of shredded car food, and she proceeded to make motions as if she was burying it in her sand box. No mistaking that message! I was fortunate to have a surplus of the gravies and stews that old Charlie preferred on hand, and as the days passed, I learned which flavors of food Rey preferred and how to mix "Just the right" ratio of gravy to solid food please "Her Majesty."
Shortly after the Holidays I twisted up my Left leg somehow, which "Crippled" me in a way that I needed a cane to get around the house, and merely walking from the house to the laundry room became an exhausting task, leaving me short of breath and feeling weak. Before this injury, Rey had me well trained to get up at sunrise and feed her, then I'd clean her litter box. I decided to add at least fifteen minutes play time after that task just to make things interesting for her. During these past couple weeks of wet and cold weather however, I have been tempted to sleep in, but Rey has learned to wake me either by doing a little tap dance across my sleeping body or purring loudly in my ear. I usually draw a compromise if Rey won't let me sleep in by making certain she's properly fed, her water dishes are full, and during playtime I'll wrap her up in her fuzzy, pink blanket to play "Peek-A-Boo."
With my daily duties done to Rey's satisfaction, I can latch the door to my room proper, and hopefully sleep in at least an hour or two extra. I have even learned to sleep through times when Rey gets "The Zoomies," and thunders up and down the hallway making a racket. She can make all the noise she wants as far as I care. It's just the times where a tremendous crash is followed by an unusually prolonged silence will cause me to start worrying. If the silence lasts longer than fifteen minutes, I guess it' time to get up and asses the damages.
"Peace."
I don't remember not living with a dog. I was an infant when the family went without a canine for a few months. There's been a constant parade of wet noses and heads needing skritches ever since.
His only real demand, as such, was that he insisted on his four-cans-for-a-dollar MasterTreat cat food from Albertson's. (Obviously, this was a while ago. ) Even "Nine Lives" was too refined for his palate. Didn't seem to do him any harm, though; he thrived on it for years... probably because he was supplementing his protein intake by hunting crickets in the back yard. :-D