The Comforter Has Come

Our cat Sam sleeps next to our cat Scout on the love seat in our house in Portland, Oregon on July 4, 2012. Original: _MG_2747.CR2

Sam lay beside me on the loveseat, too agitated by the 4th of July fireworks to sleep. Scout came in but walked past her normal spot in my lap or her cat bed and instead lay down beside him. Sam immediately curled into a ball and fell into a deep sleep, safe and secure in his sister’s shadow. Sleep wouldn’t come so easily for Scout, but hours later exhaustion took hold and she too fell asleep.

Soon sleep beckoned me as well and I walked to the bedroom with the darkness murmuring at my feet. The murmurs jumped onto the bed as I approached and I eased myself under the covers so as not to crush them. As Sam and Scout curled up on me the murmurs turned to purrs, the purrs to silence, and at last we all were at rest.

Room to Snuggle

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Heretofore the only real place to sit in my office has been the Throne of Kings, the recliner we bought when we moved here a decade ago to replace my beloved window seat from the previous house. It’s a Scandinavian style recliner, incredibly comfortable, yet small and lightweight and easy to move about, perfect for my small office. But it has a fatal flaw — there’s no room for a sixty-five pound lap dog.

I’ve been trying to figure out how to re-arrange my office to be able to both have something large enough for Ellie to curl up beside me, yet where I could still recline so that Scout and/or Sam and occasionally Emma could curl up on me as well. A visit to Ikea this weekend appears to have solved the problem. This Kivik loveseat is big enough for Ellie & me, while the footstool on the left is big enough that I can recline on it and the cats can sleep on me as before.

So how come it is Scout curled up on it in this picture (and Sam & Emma are sleeping there now), and not Ellie? Well, she somehow hurt her rear leg and is limping a bit, so she’s confined to bed rest in the basement for now. Not that she’s at all happy about it.

Soon, Ellie, soon.

The Softest Alarm Clock

The paws of our cat Scout in her cat bed in May 2012

Many mornings I wake to these paws poking softly into my cheeks. It’s so adorable I can’t be angry. Plus it’s Scout, The Cat Who Can Do No Wrong. She’s tried a variety of techniques over the years but sticks with the ones that wake me in the best mood. Another technique I love are her gentle little headbutts. She crossed the line when she started flipping my lower lip, thankfully that phase didn’t last too long.

The Orange Thief & the Angry Queen

Our cat Sam looks out from one of the cat beds in my office

We have three heated cat beds in my office, one for each of the cats, but Scout has one she considers hers and spends much of the day sleeping in it. The other cats pay their obeisance to the queen and leave the bed for her, mostly, but Sam does occasionally go through moods where he claims it for his own. I don’t think it’s a power play, partially because that’s not his personality, partially because sometimes he tries to climb in with Scout. They are both small cats but it’s a small bed too, not a bed for a small two.

If Sam takes the bed while Scout’s away, when she returns she sits beside the bed and gives him the evil eye while he pretends not to see her. When the evil eye doesn’t work, and it never does, Scout comes over to me and starts giving me the business until I go and evict him.

When we discovered her bed was no longer heating up, I struggled with whether or not I should switch it for one of the others. Scout more than any of our cats living or past is a slave to her routine. One night I decided to try an experiment and switched her bed with one a few feet away on the desk. I knew she wouldn’t like it at first but I figured with a little time the electric warmth would overcome her objections.

How wrong I was!

I made the switch in the early evening and immediately Scout started haranguing and harassing me, sometimes vocally, sometimes by repeatedly head butting me and walking across my laptop. Hour after hour I resisted but she broke me in the wee hours of the morning and I switched the beds back. Before I could even sit down she had hopped in and curled up to sleep.

At last we both had our rest.

Truth

Our cat Scout resting on my desk

In my many years and many travels, I’ve encountered only one universally accepted truth, one thing everyone agrees on, and that is this — when even Scout won’t sleep in her warm bed, it’s hot.

We had a lovely cool and wet spring here in the Northwest and escaped the summer with but a few hot days at the end. Scout is such a creature of habit that she likes to sleep in her warm bed no matter the temperature, so as the weather warms I unplug it to extend her comfort as long as possible. This picture is from one of those hot days in early September when she stepped out of the bed behind her and lay down on the cooler desk.

Recently I noticed that the bed doesn’t seem to be heating up anymore, even when plugged in, which puts us on the horn of a dilemma: do we leave it as is, knowing it won’t keep her as warm during the winter, or swap it out for a functional one but risk upsetting her routine?

For now we’re letting sleeping cats lie.

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Temptations

Our cats Sam and Scout snuggle on the window seat in our house in Portland, Oregon on July 3, 2011. Original: _MG_3132.CR2

Another change I made to the Giving of Treats is to swap out the treat I give to Scout. While she still likes the WildSide Salmon dried salmon treats, she wasn’t eating them with the same fervor so I decided to mix things up a bit. I started off with Whiskas Wild Alaskan Salmon Flavor Temptations, a little treat with a crunchy whole grain shell and a meaty treat inside. Despite the name, the first ingredient is chicken meal and the wild Alaskan salmon flavor (whatever that is) is one of the last, but Scout loves them. She’s normally a bit picky about food so it’s nice to find another treat she gets excited about.

Sam likes them too, but that’s not too surprising, Sam likes just about everything. He has gotten more tolerant of Flea Medicine Night, a monthly ritual necessitated by Scout’s flea allergy, partly with experience I suppose and partly because I started giving the cats a few treats afterward to soothe their injured souls. Now instead of hiding from me for a few hours afterward, Sam has learned it is treat time and he doesn’t even resist his treatments with the same vigor that he used to — in other words, I don’t end up bleeding anymore.

Emma is another picky eater and while she likes the wet food she gets in the mornings, and sometimes eats the dried salmon treats, I have not yet found a dried treat she will consistently eat. I picked up a couple of new Temptations flavors, Free Range Chicken and Yellow Fin Tuna, to see how they would be received. I had little doubt Sam would love them but really hoped Emma would take to them too.

On the latest flea night I assembled the three cats after their treatment, each a little irritable but each eyeing the treat bags I held in my hands. Emma didn’t like any of the treats, a disappointment but not a surprise, while Scout loved them all. The biggest surprise was Sam, who not only didn’t like the new flavors but actually spit them out!

Scout, who was learned well from her Snuggle Twin, body blocked Sam out of the way and devoured his spurned treats and Emma’s too, not a normal behavior for our gentle Queen. I guess it’s safe to say she likes these treats!

I have given her the Tuna flavor the last few days in the mornings, the first time after I handed her the last treat she swatted my empty hand with her paw. I thought it an aberration until she did it again the following morning. This morning though she just buried her head in my empty hand and rubbed her head through my fingers to capture any fleeing evanescences from the departed treats.

Queen of the Decade

Our cat Scout in her favorite cat bed

Our good and gentle queen turned ten back in March. We’ve had Scout since she was a kitten so she’s been by my side the entire decade. She is a queen that rules with a soft furry fist. Her monarchy is characterized by a modified form of laissez-faire — everyone is welcome to do whatever they want as long as it doesn’t interfere with what she wants.

For example, if Sam is sleeping on my lap and she wants to snuggle too, he’s welcome to stay where he is just so long as he doesn’t mind when she steps on him as she goes through her rituals of getting petted before she’ll lie down. I try to tell her that a good queen doesn’t walk all over the little people but this subtlety is lost on her.

She also considers one of the cat beds hers. The others are welcome to sleep in it as long as they get up when she wants it. When they don’t, she gives them the evil eye for a few moments. If that doesn’t work, she comes over and starts giving me the business until I evict them.

Yes, she can be a little grumpus. But she’s my little grumpus. I wouldn’t trade her for the world.

Small Victories

An unopened bottle of mango lemonade has been sitting in the fridge for weeks, unopened because despite many attempts I couldn’t get the cap to let loose its grip. Last night I gave it one more go and with a great effort and a little grunting finally proved the master. I turned with liberated cap in hand and looked for others to share in my glorious victory. But Sam and Emma were chasing each other around the living room, Scout was asleep in her warm bed, and Ellie looked on only in the hope that this would somehow lead to hedgehogging.

Nevertheless I quietly poured my juice and lifted my glass to the heavens. Are you listening, universe? This is Boolie and he will not be denied!

Lazy Bums

I just looked up on this sunny afternoon and noticed all the pets are asleep in my office. Ellie is to the right of my feet and Sam to the left. Emma is dozing in a sunbeam under a window. Scout, bless her heart, is in her favorite spot in the heated bed despite the hot day.

I’m awake, but not much more productive.