Snowed In!
Minneapolis is under a snow emergency and it's so thick around here that the museum closed!
Whoopee! It's a day of sleeping late, doing homework, heading to the bar down the street for food, and maybe (if I am good and get all my work done) doing some web surfing and posting more of my fiction.
In the meantim
e, per a request from Scotius, here are my pics of the children.
e, per a request from Scotius, here are my pics of the children.This is Pirate, the kitty who I lost to breast cancer. (Yes, she really did have breast cancer.) Pirate was nuts. She was the runt of the litter, just a little scraggly bat-thing squalling like a demon. She was the cleverest cat I ever encountered, even hopping around on her hind legs (evolving? We're sunk!) and doing a flip once when I came home (she got really excited easily).
Here is Twyla, the foundling who came to us after Pirate died, being coy. She's very different from Pirate, very vulnerable and shy, and doesn't pick on Pirate's brother, Topcat, the way that Pirate does. Topcat (on the right) and Twyla in many ways are more close than Topcat and Pirate were. But hey, they're all partners in crime.
posted by Kristine | Friday, March 02, 2007
4 Comments:
Pirate looked like Callie, my wife's little tortoise shell shorthair. Callie succumbed to breast cancer too.
For well over sixteen years, from the summer of '78 to December, '94, a tortoise shell Persian I named Arwen Evenstar claimed me. A neighbor cat from half a block away littered next door. I called that cat Galadriel.
In the Tolkien stories, Galadriel was Arwen's grandmother. Arwen was the first of the litter to be tamed to hand, and she survived her siblings by fifteen years.
I was living in a small house just west of Kansas City, Kansas, twenty-five years ago. In the evenings, I'd call the kitties in for the night. Arwen's eyes were like two little amber jewels bouncing along the ground as she responded. On one occasion, I thought I saw her in the yard one evening and I approached what I saw. I turned, and saw her on the porch. I beat a hasty retreat from what had been there. "Oh, no!!! A skunk!!! was the gist of my thought, but it wasn't what I said.
For many years, I thought Arwen, with an orange blaze on her face, was the most beautiful cat I had ever seen. Then I met my wife's Honey Bun, a blue-eyed Himalayan. I figured they tied for First Prize.
Scotius
All cats are beautiful.
Did you notice that I said "Pirate does" instead of "Pirate did"?
I love all the cats I've had but she was really something else. She was always dragging socks around in her teeth and moaning until one day she sniffed out an old, stuffed teddy bear from the basement. Then she dragged that thing around constantly.
Upstairs and down, in and out of the catbox (yuck!), around and around she dragged that poor bear. Topcat finally started imitating her (he still does it with my socks but Twyla hasn't picked up the habit). I knew that the teddy bear was a compact disease ball, but there was no getting it away from her. If I tried to take it away, she would hide it.
If I came home from work and saw that Pirate had not gotten into the garbage, knocked over things on the table, or strewn items all over the bathroom, and suddenly remembered that I had forgotten to cover my pillow with the sheet that morning, I knew I was in trouble, for then she would have dragged her friend out of hiding and deposited that fucking teddy bear right in the middle of my pillow - as if to say, "Look what a good girl I was today!" There the disease bear would be, in the middle of my pillow, like a poisoned mint.
*Bleah!* Then I had to wash my pillowcase with bleach.
Cute... don't tell your cats, but mine has her own blog... http://aboutkitty.blogspot.com/
Wow, kitty did a great job supervising that snow removal!
I'm so glad that your kitty approves of my blog. Thanks, kitty!
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