Tag Archives: cats

on freak outs, animals and otherwise

8 Nov

One thing I was not expecting when we moved was how hard the animals would freak the fuck out.

I knew the move would be an adjustment for them, particularly for the cats, as everyone says* that cats are attached to places, while dogs are attached to people. But what I did not know is that in our first two weeks of living in our new Animal House in Zoolandia (our affectionate nickname for our new town) I would wake up more than a few times with all three animals in bed with Swede and me. The dog, yes—she sleeps with us every night.** But the cats have never—and I mean never—slept in bed.***

The first night I woke up and thought that Swede had piled a couple thick pillows and blankets on my legs. He’s never done this before, and I don’t predict that he ever will in the future, so why this was my first thought I can’t really say except that these things make sense when it’s 2 am and you try to turn over except you can’t because your legs are pinned down by pillows and blankets. Except it’s not pillows and blankets, it’s a large cat, draped over your legs. I managed to free my legs and roll over, only to nearly roll out of the bed in fright, because as I rolled over something jumped off the side of the bed, right at head level.

A ghost? The essence of the previous owner spiriting away after coming to check on us to see how we liked the house?

No, just Lady Gaga Halloween Cat, who had stationed herself near my head to…I don’t know that I’d call it sleep, as I don’t think she actually sleeps. Maybe go into a trance would be a better description. And when I rolled over I must have snapped her out of said trance because she went flying off the bed and into the shadows of the room to hid and most likely further plot her outline for world domination.

On night four, I woke up at approximately 3 am, and reached up to move the pillow that I thought was pressing against the top of my head, and again nearly fell out of bed in fright. This time it was the Fat Cat, who—and this is probably the weirdest thing he’s ever done****–had stationed himself above my head, and was resting a single paw on the top of my noggin. There is little that is as disconcerting to wake up in the middle of the night and feel something furry attached to the top of your head, Interwebers. Believe you me.

And the dog, well, she’s still adjusting to All the Wildlife that she can now see when she positions herself on the couch to stare out the front window. The dastardly birds, the bastard squirrels, and don’t even get her started on the Other Dogs in the neighborhood who deign to walk down her street. This all, of course, when she’s not busy running between the living room at the front of the house and the bedroom at the back of the house, crying, because Swede and I are in separate rooms, and how is she supposed to protect us if we’re in separate rooooooooms?

I’m not sure if there’s anything I can do to help the beasts settle into their new home, besides give them time. Time will help, yes? Yes, let’s hope so. Because we can’t go back to the condo, it’s sold and out of our hands. The good news is that they’re already showing signs of settling in. The Fat Cat, for one, has taken to exploring the basement (and then getting stuck down there when we shut the door). The dog only races between rooms in mild anxiety, rather than full-tilt. Lady Gaga Halloween Cat—

Well, whatever. We all make progress in our own ways, on our own time.

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So irritated that we moved them. They just…ugh. They just can’t believe our audacity. 

*I don’t really know who this everyone is. But I heard one person say this one time and it made sense to me.

**Terrible idea, BTW, letting dogs sleep in bed with you. This one in particular because she’s a bed hog, pillow hog, and snores like a g-d Mack truck right in your face.

***Apparently they used to, before Swede’s life had meaning, ie, before he and I started dating. But then here I come along, Jerky McJerkerson who’s allergic to cats and effectively kicked them out of bed. This is a big reason why, for the first four years of Swede’s courtship of me, I’m positive the cats were secretly campaigning to overthrow me as girlfriend and get back one of Swede’s previous love interests, whom I’m told were much more cat-friendly.

****And that’s saying something, considering this is the cat who regularly will sprint out of the room for no apparent reason, and yell—yell—at visitors when they come in the front door.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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photo friday: jumping, leaping

5 May

 

DSC_0453About, ohhhh, I dunno, a long time ago, I wrote about how I will never, ever have a magazine-perfect home. And in looking through photos recently, I found this one from that same day, of Fat Cat, leaping with aplomb from one messy surface to another.

To be honest, I’m surprised—and proud—that I was able to catch him mid-leap. It’s not the greatest picture, and it’s not really in focus, but there’s a cat in mid-action, and you can tell it’s a cat, and not some random blob that might be in action or maybe it’s just a spot on the camera lens, and well done, me.

To further my honesty, I’m always still surprised when I see this cat jump so deftly from one place to another, especially when that one place is the floor, and the other place is our mantle five above the ground.

He’s a bit of a linebacker, this cat.

But a graceful linebacker.

Still a total asshole, though. And not even a graceful one.

photo friday: sleeping beauty

27 Jan
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Jerk. 

We have been blessed: Baby McSwedolish is an excellent nighttime sleeper. He is not so fantastic at taking naps during the day times, unless he is in his crate car seat,* toodling around with us on errands and outings.

But if I had to choose, I will take his proficiency at nighttime sleeping over napping any day, because 1) I’m not terribly good at napping myself, so I get his inability to do so, and more important, 2) I’m not sure he can nap, because the amount of time the beasts in this house spend sleeping at any given time of the day or night is so great that it probably absorbs all of the nap power from the other living beings residing here, thus rendering us all un-napable.

In other words, it is the cats’ and dog’s faults that Baby McSwedolish does not sleep well during the day. Mostly, of course, the cats’. Because everything is always their fault. Forever and ever, Amen.

*Stop calling it a crate. He’s not a puppy, girl. He’s a baby. A baby.

photo friday: patience

12 Feb

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The only thing these two agree on is that Ham is Delicious and Yes, We Will Sit Nicely Until The Big Man Hands It Over.

photo friday: into the black hole that is his brain

22 Jan

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Things he is not thinking:

  1. Sitting on this laptop–while very warming to my bum–is not conducive to the tall lady getting work done. I should move.
  2. My entire body spreads out much like Jabba the Hut’s when I lay down. Maybe the fact that these tall humans don’t give me ham every day is a good thing.
  3. I would like to create world peace.

Things he is thinking:

  1. Sucka.

yes/no/maybe

25 Nov

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and we have quite a bit we can be thankful for as we wrap ourselves in a mashed potato and pork sausage stuffing haze. There’s a lot the McPolish-Swede household has going for it, and we are grateful, don’t get me wrong.

But still.

There’s a lot of shit out there that I’m just not thankful for. I’m just not. It’s kind of fitting, really, when you think about the disastrous and tumultuous state the world is in these days. So much happy! With an intense amount of grief and strife hot on its heels. So much joy! And then a lot of Fuck You, Humans!

So to best capture the circuitous feelings of this season, may I present to you my Thankful/Not Thankful list of 2015? Yes. Yes, I may.

  1. I am thankful for Juniper, because of the unadulterated love she brings to our lives. (Except for the cats. They feel she brings no love to their lives.) There is nothing so awesome as coming home from wherever you’ve been and if a dog’s face could light up, that would be the expression on hers. She is purely and wholly excited to see me, even if I’ve been gone five minutes.I am not thankful for the times I use Juniper as a pillow and she farts in my face. It’s amazing I’m still alive, and that my sense of smell is still in tact after some of the bombs she’s dropped.

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    Super cute, but deceptively atrocious toots.

  1. I am thankful for living in the city of Chicago, because A) It’s gorgeous, 2) I like winter, III) it’s home.I am not thankful for living in the city of Chicago because A) rats in the alley, 2) Rats in the garbage, and III) Rats anywhere near me. Gross, you guys. Rats are gross. Even the ones from NIMH.
  1. I am thankful for Fat Ass and Lady Gaga Halloween Cat. No, I’m serious, I really am. They unwittingly provide hours of entertainment (mingled with exasperation, of course), and recently Fat Ass and I have declared a truce. It lasted all of five minutes, but it’s a step in the right direction, no?Proof that I am not heartless all the time.I am not thankful for the murderous look in their eyes that never seems to diminish. Ever.

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    The show How to Get Away With Murder is based on their life’s quest.

 

  1. I am thankful for grocery shopping. It is my most favorite activity in the world, and I could spend hours, days, months!, grocery shopping and daydreaming about the food I would make. I’m grateful that we can put food on our table and we don’t have to worry about where our next meal will come from.I am not thankful for kale chips. Who the fuck thought making chips out of kale was a good idea? Kale is fine the way it is unchipped. Jesus Christmas, people, come on.In all seriousness, I’m also not thankful for food waste. It’s become a pet peeve of mine over the past year, as I see so much in our refrigerator that goes bad and inedible before we can get to it or before we want to get to it. It’s horrendous, when you think about it, and just so patently smacks of privilege that it’s borderline embarrassing. I’m not proud of it, but I can change it, and believe you me, Interwebs, I’m working on it.
  1. I am thankful to be able to contribute to a retirement plan. In the past few years we’ve all dealt with, in one way or another, so much financial insecurity, and how many stories have you heard of people losing it all and starting over from scratch? Or people who never had it all to begin with, and are about done with the whole work thing, and have no idea how to live? So having a few pennies put aside for my golden years? Luxurious. My 80-year-old-self thanks me muchly.I am not thankful for the fact that I’ve had to learn the basics of investing the hard way (re: trial and error), and the lingo that swathes the industry makes my head spin like a tilt-a-whirl. Why was I never taught these things in school? And other life skills for that matter, like how to change a tire, balance a checkbook, run a household, create life-sized ice sculptures of forest animals? I know how to do some of these things, but for the love of all that is holy and decent, look around you, People Who Make Curriculum Decisions—what the shit are we going to do when we can’t Google our way out of trouble?
  1. I am thankful for you. Plain and simple.I am not thankful for…well, there is nothing about you for which I am not thankful—the good, the bad, the meh, the ugly, the beautiful. Even those times you don’t like me very much, I am still here, and I am forever grateful that I can share this little corner of the Interwebs with you.

Happy Thanksgiving, people.

What are you thankful/not thankful for this year? Share your thoughts in the comments!

 

conversations with cats, part VI

4 Nov

Me: Listen, I want to talk to you guys about something. What? No, it’s not about the lack of ham in your diets.

Them: Mew.

Me: Yes, I know your life is hard. But that’s not what I want to talk to you about. I want to talk to you about the dog.

Them: Mrrrr….

Me: Hey, don’t get your bitch on until you hear what I have to say, okay?

Them: <blink>

We're not actually listening to a word you say

We’re not actually listening to a word you say.

Me: OKAY? Fine, don’t answer. Anyway, it’s been a year. That’s 12 months. It’s time to give up the ghost. Juniper is not going anywhere, no matter how hard you glare at her. We just celebrated her Gotcha Day a few weeks ago. She’s staying. She is a part of our family.

Them: Mrrooooowwwww

Me: Well, I would celebrate your respective Gotcha Days, but I don’t know when they are. I asked Swede, but he’s vague on the details. He thinks maybe January? February? Hard to say. It was many moons before my time.

Them: Mew.

Me: Yes, yes, the time when your lives were still good and all was right with the world. <rolls eyes>

Them: Mrrrr

Me: Well I’m sorry I don’t have any more details. Swede has a lot on his mind lately. He can’t even remember where his pants are half the time, how do you expect him to remember your Gotcha Days?

Them: <blinkblinkblink>

Me: You wouldn’t understand. You guys are nudists.

Them: <blink>

Me: That was a joke, guys.

Them: <….>

Me: This is further proof that you guys have no sense of humor. Especially you, Lady Gaga Halloween Cat.

LGHC: <speaks with her eyes> I give no fucks.

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Guess how many fucks I do not give? All of them and none of them. Figure THAT one out, Einstein. 

Me: ANYWAY, I think you guys need to drop the attitude, stop barfing hairballs on the carpet, and Lady Gaga, stop acting like a goddamned Huffpost cat at 5:30 in the morning.

LGHC: <blink blink> Mrooww

Me: I appreciate the fact that after six years of being with Swede you have accepted me and somewhat forgiven me stealing your man. I do not appreciate, however, groping around on the floor for my glasses in the morning because you think it’s funny.

LGHC: Mep.

Me: And Fat Ass, if you would stop using your claws when you “play” with the dog, that would be fine.

FA: Mrrrooooooow

Me: I didn’t say you had to stop slapping her around. If she wants to be afraid of you, even though she outweighs you by 192 percent, that’s fine. Just no claws.

FA: Mrrrr

Me: Just…be cool guys, okay? It’s a tiny condo. We need to live peacefully, in harmony.

Them: Mrw.

Me: <sigh> Yeah, I know it’s too much to ask of you, too.