What was Old is New Again

The blue office chair that Whitey prefers for his office naps has been loaned out to help with a temporary housing issue.

Whitey will survive. In fact, as Uber Napper (AKA chief bum), he has exercised his rights and reclaimed the desk pillow that Oscar also takes shifts on.

Looking to my left, this morning's shift is ALL Whitey's. Sleep well, oh Uber Napper.

Laundry Day

Once again, Billy inspected the laundry as it come out of the dryer. Only he got bored, jumped up on the dryer ... and fell off the back of it.

Being the brother of the Spider-cat, he recovered, not that he didn't look panicked doing it.

He did settle down and invoke his right for a ride upstairs in the laundry basket.

Good kitty!

A quick pointer to Christopher, a cat who watches over the feline patients of a clinic in Redwood CA

Cause and effect

Billy appears to have figured out how the dryer works. More precisely, he appears to have figured out the correlation between "dryer stopped running" and "warm fresh laundry available."

He was meowing mournfully downstairs this afternoon. Sometimes, that means he wants me to work in the living room so that he can curl up on the sofa with me. So I took a pad of paper and the article I was working on, and took them downstairs.

Nope, still sad. Inconsolable, even. Maybe there's a problem with the litter box? No, I checked and it was fine, but while I was in the laundry room -- where the litter box sits -- Billy pranced around in front of the dryer, Happy Tail held high. I'd run a load a little earlier that must have finished within the last 30 minutes or so.

So I unloaded the clothes into a basket. Billy climbed in, happily rode in the basket to the foot of the stairs, and promptly fell asleep. He was still there when I left, three hours later.

This is the cat who shoves objects off my office table when he wants to play, and who figured out how to disassemble a water fountain. I guess I shouldn't be surprised...

Hurt Feelings

I bad.

Oscar was being especially rambunctious this morning while we were folding laundry, and so I sent him to "jail" -- trapping him under a flipped laundry basket . (I've previously done this to Billy once in a while -- he would explore and then bust out with a cazilla paw under the edge.)

Billy then promptly hopped up on the basket, which meant Oscar wasn't getting out any time soon, or at least until Billy got bored (which wasn't long). Photos were taken.

But after Billy had jumped down, Oscar meowed. A very quiet and sad meow from shelter kitten who lives in a cage.

Oscar was immediately released from detention, and he hopped down and scooted under the bed, away from the evil cage. I left him there to calm down, now that it's been awhile I'll go see if he wants an ear scritched. But no forced retrieval, and certainly no more cages today for our junior tiger.

Update: The trauma has faded, Oscar was last seen asleep in the library cat tower.

Photo Weekend: Kitten pile on Mom

So I was stretched out on the sofa doing some editing, when along came Billy and curled up at my feet. (Actually, walked across my stomach and then curled up at my feet. Whatever...) Then Whitey came along, sniffed around the edges of the blanket, and curled up along my legs, just north of Billy. Then Oscar came by, stood on my chest, thought about wrestling with Whitey for his space, and finally snuggled down next to my shoulders. That's his back paws in the foreground:


All very warm and snuggly. Too warm, actually, and I got up a few minutes later. Which may have been the goal, since all three boys stayed in the warm spot for a while.

POW!

Whitey has a fresh scratch on his nose, dead in the middle. Good thing he's not going to the prom this year, it would be the talk of the ball.

Oscar, as usual, is suspected.