Chronicles of a Cat
Cipher (The World's Most Amazing Cat, Screw You if You Don't Agree tm), like most cats, prizes her coolness. Cats are cool. The jazz hipsters of the animal world. Sure they get crazy when they play. Every cat does that "run as fast as you can around the house for no reason" thing. But for the most part, they are smooth.
Which is why it's so funny when they do something totally spastic and then give you that "I meant to do that" look. Cipher (again, like most cats) likes to sleep on the top of the sofa. So there she was, napping away. Having hip cat dreams. And then the UPS guy rang the doorbell. Cipher, surprised out of her sleep, twitches and falls down onto the sofa. (Luckily she fell forward and not down the back onto the floor.) She immediately scrambles up into a sitting position and looks at me as if to say "you laugh at your peril, woman." Of course I laughed. So hard I gave myself a coughing fit.
It was just so endearingly absurd and she was trying so hard to pretend it never happened. Ah, if only I'd had a video camera.
Working with shelter cats I see a lot of those "I meant to do that" moments. Cats, in spite of their insistence on hipness, do a lot of unintentionally stupid things. There are the cats who run into the window while chasing a toy. "I totally knew that window was there. I was just using it to change my trajectory." The cats who fall off the bench "just testing to make sure gravity still works." And cats who pounce on an object and completely miss it "just putting the fear of Cat into that hapless pipe cleaner."
One of the things that cats don't realize is that it's impossible to play and look cool at the same time. They try, poor things, but never succeed. It defies the laws of nature to maintain a hipster vibe while being menaced with the creature that is your own tail. And that little chirping at the birds noise they make? So not threatening. "Yeah, you stupid finch. come over here and see whose boss!' That's what they think they're saying. But what they're actually saying is "I'm trying to fool you with my bird call but I just sound like I've got a goldfish down my throat."
As any cat owner will tell you, cats have marvelous personalities. Dog owners will say "cats are too aloof" when the truth is that cats, for all their posing, are just Vaudeville comedians with tails. Dogs are fun, sure, but because they are naturally goofy it's not that much of a surprise when they do something that makes you bust out with a laugh. But cats, by their nature, are unexpectedly hilarious and that makes it all the funnier when they break through that wall of poise and fall down onto the sofa.
Showing posts with label Cipher. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cipher. Show all posts
Thursday, December 09, 2010
Tuesday, August 03, 2010
Where'd it go?
Cipher (The World's Most Amazing Cat, Screw You if You Don't Agree tm) is not the most intellectual of cats. Face it, as much as we might love the beasts, cats are not known for their deductive reasoning. They rarely solve mysteries or debate foreign policy. They are smart enough to be cats and figure out things like killing empty toilet paper rolls, but sometimes higher concepts defeat them.
Gravity is one of those concepts that cats don't seem to grasp, and Cipher is very much symptomatic of this failure.
One of her favorite things to do is knock items off of tables and then wonder where they've gone.
Her favorite target is books and since both Husband and I are voracious readers, she has plenty of game. She loves to jump onto the coffee table and bat with intense concentration at a paperback. Then when she finally manages to knock it onto the floor she looks completely mystified. "Hey," she seems to express, "it was here a minute ago!" She'll look at us with a "where is it?" expression and a few moments later appears to be extremely surprised when she jumps off the table and finds a book on the floor.
I usually have three or four books on the nightstand next to the bed and they plague her in the middle of the night. Suddenly she just can't stand it any longer and she'll walk over me to knock one of the offending books onto the floor. That'll teach it. Then, having disposed of another book and completely perplexed as to where the damn thing went, she'll walk back over me and settle at the foot of the bed once more, no doubt to meditate on the amazing disappearing book.
Cipher (The World's Most Amazing Cat, Screw You if You Don't Agree tm) is not the most intellectual of cats. Face it, as much as we might love the beasts, cats are not known for their deductive reasoning. They rarely solve mysteries or debate foreign policy. They are smart enough to be cats and figure out things like killing empty toilet paper rolls, but sometimes higher concepts defeat them.
Gravity is one of those concepts that cats don't seem to grasp, and Cipher is very much symptomatic of this failure.
One of her favorite things to do is knock items off of tables and then wonder where they've gone.
Her favorite target is books and since both Husband and I are voracious readers, she has plenty of game. She loves to jump onto the coffee table and bat with intense concentration at a paperback. Then when she finally manages to knock it onto the floor she looks completely mystified. "Hey," she seems to express, "it was here a minute ago!" She'll look at us with a "where is it?" expression and a few moments later appears to be extremely surprised when she jumps off the table and finds a book on the floor.
I usually have three or four books on the nightstand next to the bed and they plague her in the middle of the night. Suddenly she just can't stand it any longer and she'll walk over me to knock one of the offending books onto the floor. That'll teach it. Then, having disposed of another book and completely perplexed as to where the damn thing went, she'll walk back over me and settle at the foot of the bed once more, no doubt to meditate on the amazing disappearing book.
Friday, July 24, 2009
The Case of the Traveling Luggage Tag
Cipher (The World's Most Amazing Cat, Screw You if You Don't Agree tm) is a bit of a sneak thief. She's "a picker-up of unconsidered trifles." If it's in reach (and sometimes even if it's out of reach) and can fit in her mouth, she'll nab it. Pens. Power cords. Pieces of mail. Sometimes she just pulls them off a table, and then leaps back in surprise when they actually fall. Often she'll strut into the room with something in her mouth as if to say "look what I just stole because you were stupid enough to leave it where I could get to it."
We have a leather luggage tag that is currently making the rounds. It was on the floor of the closet in the music room. Then it was in the middle of the music room. Since then it's been circumnavigating the house, going on it's own world tour. A luggage tag traveling light, without luggage. It was by the bed yesterday. In the kitchen last night. And now it's sitting by my feed in the middle of the living room.
Unlike her other crimes, I've not actually seen the tag in her mouth. So perhaps I am maligning her unfairly. Maybe she is innocent and the tag is moving itself around the house, playing its own little game of freeze tag. But I have a feeling Cipher is behind it.
Right now she's sitting in her favorite perch, in the front window. Her back to me and the room; purposely ignoring the moveable tag. But I have a feeling when I come home from cat duty later today, the tag will have once again migrated to another room. And there Cipher will sit, all innocence, pretending she knows nothing about the case of the traveling luggage tag.
Cipher (The World's Most Amazing Cat, Screw You if You Don't Agree tm) is a bit of a sneak thief. She's "a picker-up of unconsidered trifles." If it's in reach (and sometimes even if it's out of reach) and can fit in her mouth, she'll nab it. Pens. Power cords. Pieces of mail. Sometimes she just pulls them off a table, and then leaps back in surprise when they actually fall. Often she'll strut into the room with something in her mouth as if to say "look what I just stole because you were stupid enough to leave it where I could get to it."
We have a leather luggage tag that is currently making the rounds. It was on the floor of the closet in the music room. Then it was in the middle of the music room. Since then it's been circumnavigating the house, going on it's own world tour. A luggage tag traveling light, without luggage. It was by the bed yesterday. In the kitchen last night. And now it's sitting by my feed in the middle of the living room.
Unlike her other crimes, I've not actually seen the tag in her mouth. So perhaps I am maligning her unfairly. Maybe she is innocent and the tag is moving itself around the house, playing its own little game of freeze tag. But I have a feeling Cipher is behind it.
Right now she's sitting in her favorite perch, in the front window. Her back to me and the room; purposely ignoring the moveable tag. But I have a feeling when I come home from cat duty later today, the tag will have once again migrated to another room. And there Cipher will sit, all innocence, pretending she knows nothing about the case of the traveling luggage tag.
Wednesday, May 06, 2009
Photo of the day: I'm Starving Here
If you have pets, you know this look. It tells your shameful secret to the world. This poor, starving animal hasn't been fed in days.
Cipher (TWMACSYIYDA tm) has a quite impressive internal clock. She knows when dinnertime is and, starting about an hour beforehand, she pours it on. The quiet meowing. The big green eyes. The pathetic look that she must practice in the mirror when we aren't looking.
I mean look at her. Don't you just feel her sending you brainwaves? Feed me. I'm weak. I need tuna. I must have tuna.
In the face of, well, this face, I always cave. Just after I took this photo I gave her dinner. Yes, it was tuna.
If you have pets, you know this look. It tells your shameful secret to the world. This poor, starving animal hasn't been fed in days.
Cipher (TWMACSYIYDA tm) has a quite impressive internal clock. She knows when dinnertime is and, starting about an hour beforehand, she pours it on. The quiet meowing. The big green eyes. The pathetic look that she must practice in the mirror when we aren't looking.
I mean look at her. Don't you just feel her sending you brainwaves? Feed me. I'm weak. I need tuna. I must have tuna.
In the face of, well, this face, I always cave. Just after I took this photo I gave her dinner. Yes, it was tuna.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Little Head, Big Window
Cipher (The World's Most Amazing Cat, Screw You if You Don't Agree tm) loves to sit in our front window and watch the world go by. Whenever we walk or drive up to our house and see her in the window it always melts our hearts. There's just something so winsome about that little tiny head in the big window that is amazingly cute. Yeah, I know, crazy cat parents. But even without being smitten with the kitten, I think this is a cute picture.
Cipher (The World's Most Amazing Cat, Screw You if You Don't Agree tm) loves to sit in our front window and watch the world go by. Whenever we walk or drive up to our house and see her in the window it always melts our hearts. There's just something so winsome about that little tiny head in the big window that is amazingly cute. Yeah, I know, crazy cat parents. But even without being smitten with the kitten, I think this is a cute picture.
Sunday, March 01, 2009
Monday, October 13, 2008
Saturday, March 15, 2008
The ghost in our kitchen
Our kitchen appears to be haunted. Cipher, the world's most amazing cat, screw you if you don't agree (TM) is suddenly afraid of the corner of the room where her food is.
The first appearance of the ghost came three weeks ago. She was fine at breakfast. Come dinner, however, she wouldn't get anywhere near her food. She backed away like we were trying to feed her live cobra for a snack. If I picked her up and tried to put her down near the food she squirmed like an eel. Her food is right near the fridge, and we traced the source to some highly spiced leftover Chinese food that she apparently didn't like the scent of. (Memo to self: cat does not like Mongolian beef.) We cleaned out the fridge, opened the window, and she was fine.
Until Wednesday, that is.
Wednesday night, same problem. A dubious look towards the food area. A refusal to go near it. If we moved her food out a few feet, she dove in with her usual lack of table manners. But the ghost of the food corner had returned and nothing would induce her to confront it. And it's been like that ever since. I've cleaned out the fridge, but there wasn't anything there particularly fragrant. I've cleaned the area around the food space. And still she's skittish. I'm thinking next time I'll clean with Holy Water, maybe that'll do the trick.
So we're moving her food dish out when we feed her, but it's hardly convenient to have it in the middle of the room. We've debated moving to another area of the kitchen entirely but it's currently in the only spot that doesn't get a lot of foot traffic. Any other spot and we're likely to be spending a lot of time mopping up spilled water. But we can't have the poor thing afraid to eat. Although I suppose she'll confront the ghost when she's hungry enough, it's just kinda sad to see her looking at that area like Jacob Marley is standing there.
Our kitchen appears to be haunted. Cipher, the world's most amazing cat, screw you if you don't agree (TM) is suddenly afraid of the corner of the room where her food is.
The first appearance of the ghost came three weeks ago. She was fine at breakfast. Come dinner, however, she wouldn't get anywhere near her food. She backed away like we were trying to feed her live cobra for a snack. If I picked her up and tried to put her down near the food she squirmed like an eel. Her food is right near the fridge, and we traced the source to some highly spiced leftover Chinese food that she apparently didn't like the scent of. (Memo to self: cat does not like Mongolian beef.) We cleaned out the fridge, opened the window, and she was fine.
Until Wednesday, that is.
Wednesday night, same problem. A dubious look towards the food area. A refusal to go near it. If we moved her food out a few feet, she dove in with her usual lack of table manners. But the ghost of the food corner had returned and nothing would induce her to confront it. And it's been like that ever since. I've cleaned out the fridge, but there wasn't anything there particularly fragrant. I've cleaned the area around the food space. And still she's skittish. I'm thinking next time I'll clean with Holy Water, maybe that'll do the trick.
So we're moving her food dish out when we feed her, but it's hardly convenient to have it in the middle of the room. We've debated moving to another area of the kitchen entirely but it's currently in the only spot that doesn't get a lot of foot traffic. Any other spot and we're likely to be spending a lot of time mopping up spilled water. But we can't have the poor thing afraid to eat. Although I suppose she'll confront the ghost when she's hungry enough, it's just kinda sad to see her looking at that area like Jacob Marley is standing there.
Monday, November 05, 2007
The amazing internal cat-clock
Cipher (The World's Most Amazing Cat, Screw You If You Don't Agree TM) has an amazing internal clock. 6 am is the wake-up call. 5:30 pm is dinner. 9:30 is play time. You can set your watch by her. In fact, my poor husband hasn't had to use an alarm clock since Cipher came to rule the house.
The whole setting the clocks back thing, however, has really upset her schedule. This morning at 5 am she was raring to go. Last when the clock hit 4 she began to do her "it's dinner time soon, I just know it" pace. And her evening crazies began at about 8:30 and didn't really let up until nearly 10. Cat knows best and the time change is just some stupid human idea designed to keep a cat away from her dinner.
Husband and I have a deal. The cat is mine from 11 pm to 6 am. After 6, she's his. So the extra early wake up is my problem. She'll adjust in a few days (the writer says hopefully), but until then it's going to be hard to keep looking at those beautiful, pleading green eyes at 4:30 and tell her that she needs to wait for dinner.
Cipher (The World's Most Amazing Cat, Screw You If You Don't Agree TM) has an amazing internal clock. 6 am is the wake-up call. 5:30 pm is dinner. 9:30 is play time. You can set your watch by her. In fact, my poor husband hasn't had to use an alarm clock since Cipher came to rule the house.
The whole setting the clocks back thing, however, has really upset her schedule. This morning at 5 am she was raring to go. Last when the clock hit 4 she began to do her "it's dinner time soon, I just know it" pace. And her evening crazies began at about 8:30 and didn't really let up until nearly 10. Cat knows best and the time change is just some stupid human idea designed to keep a cat away from her dinner.
Husband and I have a deal. The cat is mine from 11 pm to 6 am. After 6, she's his. So the extra early wake up is my problem. She'll adjust in a few days (the writer says hopefully), but until then it's going to be hard to keep looking at those beautiful, pleading green eyes at 4:30 and tell her that she needs to wait for dinner.
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