Choices

Willow in a paper bag

“What’re you doing Willow?”

When we moved from the West Coast with 13 cats, Grant and I travelled by air allowing us to carry 2 as hand baggage while the other 11 were transported by road.

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There was never any question in my mind that Willow and Muffin would be those two and I often wonder if they have any shared memory of it.

We found out afterwards that Muffin suffers from motion sickness, so although the journey was an ordeal for her, she was spared the awfulness that would have been her road trip.

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Nothing satisfies a cat like a paper bag!

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No need to buy expensive toys.

Although the dream curls are very popular.

And the stinky fish.

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Even the old beat-up one that we’ve washed over and over and soaked in catnip-infused water!

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For a while back in Washington I did a lot of crochet, making blankets and pads for my furry friends.

The leftovers I made into balls.

Tom used to carry one around, singing to it, ultimately presenting it to Grant as a gift.

Tinkerbelle does it too.

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In recent months, Sophia has begun to play with a certain fluffy mouse that she favours.

It has been wonderful to see her emerge from her self-imposed exile in places where she felt safe.

She was not feral, but she had been traumatised, by what we don’t know.

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She is a lovely little cat who responds well to petting, once you’re trusted to offer it.

She was happy to help tidy up the other day when a new bag of kibble sprung a leak!

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Of course, there’s never been a shortage of volunteers for clean-up duties.

Although on this occasion it was a little more than tiny Tim could cope with alone.

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So he sent for reinforcements while he went to talk with his friend Joely the bunny.

(A memory from 2012.)

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Kibble is issued for lunch.

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But Muffin is very choosy.

Today’s favourite may well be refused tomorrow.

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“I knows you got more choices in da cupboard.”

But sometimes she refuses them all.

Though, when your back is turned, she quite often goes back to eat what you gave her in the first place.

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Place is all important.

At lunchtime I have to follow Willow around until she settles.

She lets me put down her kibble, then moves off to another location.

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At least my cats are not affected by moon madness.

Two nights ago it was very pretty in evening mist.

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Last night I waited for it to rise but was misled, as always by the timing offered online.

Deciding it was off by an hour, I went to do something else and by the time I looked again the moon was well above the horizon…

As I hovered at the window Grant came by and observed:

“Full moon? No wonder I’m scratchy!”

I try to avoid alerting him to the phases of the moon in the hope that not knowing, he won’t be affected.

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Our furniture is bestrewn with cat blankets. I know, it’s awful, however:

If someone said to you they wanted to move the blue chair, would you necessarily think of this one?

Last month’s moon-mood was quite cross when I knew not to which he was referring.

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Oh, only a little bit cross.

The computer tried to persuade me not to share that image by filing it away temporarily in some invisible dimension while I attempted to convert it from iPhone to tiff, but just as I gave up it re-appeared:

“Hello! I’m back!”

I’m sure you’re very glad about that!

4 thoughts on “Choices

  1. Isn’t it amazing how something as simple as a paper bag can give a cat so much pleasure! Almost like kids who will play with the box rather than the gift inside. Haha, the colour blue just took on a different meaning for me! Your moon pictures are beautiful Carolyn – I’ve never been able to get it photographed so beautifully. Thank goodness your computer “returned” that last photo – your post just wouldn’t have been completed without it …

  2. I love the photo of Tiny Tim. He’s the sort of cat I would have. One thing about Ollie, he would never eat anything in his bowl, or off the floor, until he was told it was his. “Its’ Ollie’s” was all he needed to hear before he happily scoffed it. 🙂
    Best wishes, Pete.

    1. You must have so many of those little moments to remember. Thimphu was precious and everyone loved him, even my father was amused by him. He died at only 8. One day he was fine and the next he was in distress. We attempted to have his little nose altered to improve his breathing but the surgeon said there was not enough for him to work with. My friends at work got him for me after Yeti died leaving me heartbroken. He was quite different but he did cheer me up and I loved him as I do all cats, as individuals.

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