Picture
Hi guys, I know you haven't heard from me in a while, but, truthfully, life has been pretty boring for me recently. As I mentioned in my last story, Vicky and Alex decided to keep me locked in.. - a “house-cat” as they call it! Pretty nasty situation that. As I am not aware of having done anything wrong, being grounded seems to be a very harsh punishment. The fact that I don't speak human and neither Alex nor Vicky speak “cat”, makes any attempt of communication between us rather ridiculous...

I keep trying to tell them that I need to get out as often and as obvious as I can, but either they have chosen to ignore me or they JUST DON'T GET IT. As If they really didn't understand me... Even a set of two-leggers can't be THAT THICK! After all, what can it mean if somebody keeps scratching at your door or your window? But no, rather than listening to me, I get given out to – FOR SCRATCHING THE DOOR...Now, how is that? I don't scratch the door only because it is so much fun – I have a reason – I WANT OUT...

But anyway, I don't really know how long I have been in my new home but as the days are getting shorter (and I would assume it is getting colder outside as well – for the lack of being able to check the outside-temperature myself), we are definitely heading towards “curl-up-time”. “Curl-up-time” is what we cats call the colder half of the year. For obvious reasons: What else can you do if your paws turn into ice after a short stroll around? We generally refer to the warmer half of the year as “fun-time” because there is are so many things to do that time of the year: mice to chase, new places to explore, birds to go after, regular cat-club meetings to attend to, trees to conquer, a variety of hidey-holes to check out etc. Naturally, the fun-time is the most enjoyable period of the year for us felines. And, thanks to my new humans, I have missed most of this years fun-time...

In fairness, Vicky is trying her best to make up for it. She drags all those cat-toys into the house and throws them around for me. I am thankful for that and yes, playing with her is rather fun – if only there weren't that many “No”'s and “Get away from that”'s involved in it.

That seems to be another thing humans don't realize about us cats. When we go into “hunting-mood”, our concentration goes to one thing and one thing only: THE PREY. Therefore, it is not our fault that things get knocked over when they get into our way. That is of course why, when we share our living-space with humans, we are nearly “damned to be disastrous”. We just can't stop right in the middle of a jump to avoid clashing against the most favourite vase or some humans collection of fragile, funny looking things on a table.

So far, I have been relatively lucky – no major casualties yet... But then, Vicky is very attentive and careful. She always puts most of the “breakable” things away before she takes out my cat-toys for our daily play-round.

My favourite toy though is something that isn't really mine: Vicky takes it out every night in bed and starts doing something funny with that round thing and two metal sticks. While she keeps fiddling away, the round thingy gets smaller and smaller and whatever is hanging off the metal sticks gets bigger and bigger. I LOVE to hold onto the round thing (whatever it's called in “human”), bite into it, throw it onto the floor and go chase after it. The weird thing is that, somehow, Vicky seems to be “attached” to “my toy”. Every time I have it on the floor, she comes after me with those two metal sticks in her hand telling me to let go.

Sometimes I can't figure out what is funnier, me chasing after the round thing or Vicky trying to chase me to get it back. In fairness, that round thing must be something very special given that it can go smaller and yet bigger again within a very short time (obviously depending on what you do to it: To give you an example, when I throw it down the hall, it always gets “smaller”. Not much, but noticeably – I'd know because it's always easier to get my mouth around it when it's down at the back of the hall than it is when it's up in the bedroom. On the other hand, when Vicky gets her paws on it, she starts turning it over and over and, for some reason, it starts to get “bigger” again then.

Since I am keen on learning a bit more of that “human meowing”, can anybody out there tell me what my favourite toy is called in your language? Many thankful meows.

Miss Kitty

 


Comments




Leave a Reply