Thursday, February 25, 2010
Or at least we get a truce between bouts of Oscar looking for playzillas, as was the case here. Now if we could just get him to observe truces between midnight and breakfast...
Sunday, February 21, 2010
There are two slight problems with this new found dimension, especially with the hall railing.
The hall railing was (and is) a favorite vertical escape route from Oscar for the Catzillas, because while no higher than the kitchen counter (a common visit for all three boys), Oscar didn't go up there. Now its utility is lessened, because while Oscar doesn't actively pursue up there, he will visit.
The second problem is that ... well, Oscar is a clutz. Almost every time I've seen him on the railing, a load bearing paw will slip off to the side once as he strolls or turns, and only four paw drive saves him (no claws needed). I swear I've seen him slip more times in a month than I have seen the Catzillas slip in the nearly three years we've lived in the Kitten Farm West. I don't know why Oscar doesn't know where his paws are, but I hope it's youth and lack of practice more than a lack of Spider-cat genes. I also hope he doesn't fall off completely -- an unexpected six foot drop to the stairs, even with them carpeted, would not be fun.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Thursday, February 18, 2010
To be honest, Oscar uses the pillow more than Whitey (who has his own Herman-Miller Reaction Chair in my office), but it's nice to know Whitey still feels welcome on the desk.
(Well, it is the thing next to Whitey's best thing to nap on ...)
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Billy and Whitey didn't seem to hear the instructions from Great Basement Cat, but clearly Oscar did. Or something.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Every cat we have
owned served as valets for found one or more methods to announce it is, in his or her opinion, meal time. All the boys meow.
- Emily had the hop on Katherine's desk,
- Whitey has the current evening desk visit duty and the morning (occasional) death from above,
- Billy has the cavalry charge downstairs to dinner, along with supervising in the kitchen looking very interested in whatever is being prepared for any species,
- Oscar has the cavalry charge upstairs, and has recently developed the morning visit to me in bed, which turns into a gentle request to cuddle him.
But none of these match the show Oscar puts on if he thinks he has your attention in the upstairs hall. It starts with his happy trot into the library where he's fed. If you appear to follow, his routine morphs into a full twirl with a purring chirp, and climaxes in an ecstatic cat rolling on the floor as he awaits feeding.
Unfortunately, he can't tell time worth beans. He'll do this before breakfast, an hour after breakfast, and basically all through the day. It gets him petted, but not fed.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Emily would approve ... if she didn't want Katherine all to herself.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Amazing enough, this was the 30 minutes before kitten dinner time, and yes, they were trying to tell me something ...
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Sorry Billy, we're not going to let you pick your own toys out.