Jan 6, 2021
When the cat decides to lounge ten centimeters away from a naked bulb and YOU HAVE to take a picture before she combusts. Obviously.
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When the cat decides to lounge ten centimeters away from a naked bulb and YOU HAVE to take a picture before she combusts. Obviously.
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Short cat story
My boy sleeps in his carrier because otherwise he cries all night and harasses his sister.
He's been really good lately about waiting to wake up.
This morning, he started fussing because he felt ignored, so I opened the carrier and then teased him a little about using his nose and I used my hands open our bedroom door.
He popped open the carrier door and then seemingly tried to pull it shut. So I closed it for him, without latching the carrier. He popped it open a couple more times, and each time, I closed the door again per his seeming request. The last time, he left it, so I sat down. Several minutes later, forth-eth he emerges.
She keeps doing the thing I like with her hindlegs… **
I shall call this pic: “Le Truc qui fait du bruit in pure bliss on the bed (with offscreen human slave working from home) secure in the knowledge her kibbles are being dutifully earned.”
I’ve mentioned before It’s Cat of Thrones in the garden, and that le Truc qui fait du bruit, though little, usually holds her ground against big badasses (catasses?). Well, it’s become an habit to notice new players, especially when they come to the living room window and look at the humans inside as if they were their own personal real TV show.
You want to document.
Then you remember how crappy the photo app on your phone is, particularly when you dare use the flash, and find yourself with a GHOST CAT staring right back at you on the pic…
Current Status : Traumatizing the Cat
Trying to defend myself from an overly hungry and aggressive mosquito that’s driving me mad (that’s when your biggest fantasy becomes having a pet Bullseye to never miss and take care of the annoyance) and noticing that even though it’s been something like eight years that cat is my cat, it’s obvious that when I clap my hands loudly in the air it’s with the obvious agenda to KILL HER which is why she has to RUN RUN RUN away. Trust issues, much?
*sigh*
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(nonsense you can ignore)
Been trying to do some fic writing in the tiny greenhouse that allows me to keep an eye on the garden. It’s nice. But two things of note:
Le Truc qui fait du bruit decided something like eight years ago to invade my home and to let me be her slave, but she still manages to surprise me with the weird positions she finds herself in… Here, napping against my thigh, using my forearm as a pillow AND being weird with her hind legs… ^^ (I wasn’t petting her, she just kinda rolled and grabbed my arm…)
Cat: “You shall be allowed to ignore me and use your computer for a bit to write your puny little fics. But you’ll use only one arm.”
Me *feeling like I’ve actually won the bargain*: “Ok, I’ll just add the punctuation marks later…”