later my heart races as i scan the apartment, then place the bird on top of the fridge. did he see me?
Monday, March 31, 2008
podkai
grabs the bird in the back of his mouth and crouches, growling. he drops the bird, sniffs it, jaws it again and growls and growls, and growls. then inch by inch he drags the bird, and the string, and the plastic stick into the kitchen and under the table, where he, yes, crouches and growls, crouches and growls.
later my heart races as i scan the apartment, then place the bird on top of the fridge. did he see me?
later my heart races as i scan the apartment, then place the bird on top of the fridge. did he see me?
Friday, March 28, 2008
raising awareness
meera raises awareness for the plight of the tufted owl. she's not all fluffy indie-movie-star-wannabe
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Monday, March 24, 2008
everything as it should be
i puttered around this morning, made coffee, washed fruit, grabbed my tunes for the day ahead. each time i caught kai's eye he mewed and rolled onto his back. "such a soft belly," i told him. "you are such a charmer, what a beautiful boy." and he purred and purred.
yesterday he jumped onto the kitchen counter and paced back and forth, rubbing his cheek against the dish drainer and the cupboard corner. he loves being close to my hands and my face, and loves the added height of the counter. i scratched his chin so he turned his head sideways, lowered it, brought it closer and closer to the edge until i thought he was going to fall off.
he's the lightest of my three, the simplest, the most relaxed. reading on my bed the other day, stretched out on my belly above the covers, kai draped himself between and atop my knees. i had to move, though, after half an hour, if only to bring feeling back to my legs. i moved very slowly, very carefully, giving him every opportunity to reposition of his own volition.
but instead of switching to a different corner of the bed, he continued to lay limp as a dishrag. his lower half remained on the bed, his upper half hung in the air. he clung to my raised leg. crazy silly kai, with your nails in my jeans, you look so relaxed but that can't be comfortable. he'll only move unless he thinks i'm serious.
yesterday he jumped onto the kitchen counter and paced back and forth, rubbing his cheek against the dish drainer and the cupboard corner. he loves being close to my hands and my face, and loves the added height of the counter. i scratched his chin so he turned his head sideways, lowered it, brought it closer and closer to the edge until i thought he was going to fall off.
he's the lightest of my three, the simplest, the most relaxed. reading on my bed the other day, stretched out on my belly above the covers, kai draped himself between and atop my knees. i had to move, though, after half an hour, if only to bring feeling back to my legs. i moved very slowly, very carefully, giving him every opportunity to reposition of his own volition.
but instead of switching to a different corner of the bed, he continued to lay limp as a dishrag. his lower half remained on the bed, his upper half hung in the air. he clung to my raised leg. crazy silly kai, with your nails in my jeans, you look so relaxed but that can't be comfortable. he'll only move unless he thinks i'm serious.
big-eyed bella birdwatches
And there's wickers in the background. I'm so lucky to live on the top floor with a view of trees and many, many birds. And springtime is a wonderful time to birdwatch. Picture their long tails switching back and forth, and back and forth...
caturday morning sunshine
those're wicket's ears down below. he's got large ears, which are always warm and open to being rubbed. he'd make such a good mouser it's a shame i don't have mice ("she said WHAT?").
in top pic, that's mostly meera looking up and mostly kai looking out, and a wee bit of wicket shoved off to the edge . but don't 'poor wicket, no room on the couch for poor wicket,' because just yesterday he leaped and crushed bella until she moved from her back-of-couch perch. he can be a bully when the mood strikes, but here he's taken 'be sweet, be good' to heart.
in top pic, that's mostly meera looking up and mostly kai looking out, and a wee bit of wicket shoved off to the edge . but don't 'poor wicket, no room on the couch for poor wicket,' because just yesterday he leaped and crushed bella until she moved from her back-of-couch perch. he can be a bully when the mood strikes, but here he's taken 'be sweet, be good' to heart.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
dim quiet
sorely in need of kitteh love. sorely in need of a bed and the dim quiet of my bedroom. going home now, k thx bai.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
vogue
bella prepped for these pics for days. she wanted the lighting just right, her whiskers just right, she wanted her brothers out of the picture. most of all, she wanted her expressions to be evocative of just the kind of mood that the indie-film-crew would want to create...she'll be sending this off to a bunch of agencies in nyc, along with her card. keep your fingers crossed! if she makes it big, she's promised us one of those $200 cat trees, and a catwalk like the kind here: http://www.catshouse.com/
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Monday, March 17, 2008
Friday, March 14, 2008
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
paperweights
they're like paperweights, the way they anchor my blankets and keep me from rolling around at night. one, two, three. if i want to get up in the middle of the night, i ease myself out from under the blankets, scrunching myself slowly towards the headboard and then climbing over pillows to reach the floor. but it never works. as i come stumbling out of the bathroom they're unfailingly waiting for me outside the door.
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
bella ye
bella ye pusher-awayer ye clawed beastie ye lover of personal space:
little girl let me (1) pick her up, (2) drape her over my shoulder, (3) enfold her in my arms and scratch the base of her tail. she (1) lay still, (2) squeezed her eyes shut, (3) purrrrrrd;
i must be doing something right! maybe by this time next year she'll let me play with her toes without yanking them away or roly-polying over my wrist, claws&teeth at the ready.
little girl let me (1) pick her up, (2) drape her over my shoulder, (3) enfold her in my arms and scratch the base of her tail. she (1) lay still, (2) squeezed her eyes shut, (3) purrrrrrd;
i must be doing something right! maybe by this time next year she'll let me play with her toes without yanking them away or roly-polying over my wrist, claws&teeth at the ready.
between snooze 4 and snooze 5
this morning between snooze 4 and snooze 5, wicket rolled right off the bed. he landed between the wall and the bed and i heard thumps on the way down. i was way out of it so it took me a moment to drag myself to the edge and blear over. couldn't see him. fell off the bed myself, still half asleep, so that i could look beneath, and there he was, just looking around. sweet talk and a feel for broken bones or sore spots, and back to sleep for me. urg. poor baby.
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
snugs right up
damn this felt good: bella has taken to curling up next to me in the middle of the night. she snugs right up to my lower back as i lay on my side, and there's something about the pressure against my back that makes me feel soooo comfy. thanks lil bella.
Sunday, March 02, 2008
for this my three-hundredth post
3rd anniversary: (traditional) leather, (modern) crystal, glass
13th anniversary: (traditional) lace, (modern) textile, furs
30th anniversary: (traditional) pearl, (modern) diamond
33rd anniversary: amethyst
300th? Can't find it online, so I'll make up my own: (traditional) fleece, (modern) herbs, perhaps catnip
13th anniversary: (traditional) lace, (modern) textile, furs
30th anniversary: (traditional) pearl, (modern) diamond
33rd anniversary: amethyst
300th? Can't find it online, so I'll make up my own: (traditional) fleece, (modern) herbs, perhaps catnip
loves my sleeps
Two-thirty this morning I was a raging incoherent thing. As incoherent as a person can be with no one to talk to. My thoughts were mad dashers, slamming trapped within frustration's walls.
Two-thirty and I'd been asleep for hours, but then the bass began. It vibrated my walls; I could hear every word of the song, I could hear Jackass's friends sing every word, the front door slammed again and again and rattled the frame of the house.
It was horrible. Especially considering the conversation Jackass and I had last week, and two weeks before that, and how sweet and considerate he was, how we worked out an acceptable loud-music & friends schedule.
He's a pushover, says Landlady, he's a go-alonger who can't say no to his friends. I don't care anymore, I just want it to stop. Their loud conversation and smoke filled my apartment. I called Jackass's cell phone but it was turned off, had to leave a message.
Talked to Landlady this morning and she understands. She'll either change the locks and ask that he move elsewhere (he's 18, his mom's been in the hospital) or forbid him to have friends over. I'm not happy with either solution, but this is a boy who hasn't learned to respect his co-habitors, and I loves my sleeps like little else.
What kept me hanging on, what kept me from going Bursar, was the fluff on my bed. One fluffer to my right, two to my left. I ran my hands over their faces, their paws, their backbones as the bass shook our walls, and promised them a better night's sleep tonight.
Two-thirty and I'd been asleep for hours, but then the bass began. It vibrated my walls; I could hear every word of the song, I could hear Jackass's friends sing every word, the front door slammed again and again and rattled the frame of the house.
It was horrible. Especially considering the conversation Jackass and I had last week, and two weeks before that, and how sweet and considerate he was, how we worked out an acceptable loud-music & friends schedule.
He's a pushover, says Landlady, he's a go-alonger who can't say no to his friends. I don't care anymore, I just want it to stop. Their loud conversation and smoke filled my apartment. I called Jackass's cell phone but it was turned off, had to leave a message.
Talked to Landlady this morning and she understands. She'll either change the locks and ask that he move elsewhere (he's 18, his mom's been in the hospital) or forbid him to have friends over. I'm not happy with either solution, but this is a boy who hasn't learned to respect his co-habitors, and I loves my sleeps like little else.
What kept me hanging on, what kept me from going Bursar, was the fluff on my bed. One fluffer to my right, two to my left. I ran my hands over their faces, their paws, their backbones as the bass shook our walls, and promised them a better night's sleep tonight.
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