Blasted Cat

September 2, 2009

Blasted cat.  Spent five minutes this morning looking for her.  I only allow myself 45 minutes to get ready in the morning and I was already on my 46th minute when I started looking for her.  Once I wouldn’t have.  Looked for her that is.   However Chibi, the name of this particular blasted cat ( we have 6 with varied adjectives attached to their names) has gotten into the very firm habit of helping me put my shoes on in the morning.  I place my shoes on the bed ( I am still not sure how she trained me to do that) and while I put my socks on she plays with the shoelaces and then tries to stick her head into the shoe, usually successfully. 

Occasionally she will sit on top of them, her black paws (they match the rest of her body) wrapped around the rest of the shoe in a protective or possessive or both embrace.  When I try to put my shoes on she bats at the shoelace as it rises above and away from her.  Occasionally she manages to catch the hand too.  Did I mention that she has very very very sharp claws, the sharpest of all our cats.  Which really makes it a puzzle as to why she is low cat on the totem pole.  Anyway she always gives me a slightly puzzled look as I gently disengage her claws from the shoelace or the flesh of my hand as the case may be. 

This morning though I went to go dress and she was not waiting for me in the bedroom.  I put my shoes on the bed and she still did not show up.  I sat on the bed and put my socks on.  Still no Chibi.  I put my shoes on and then went looking for her.  At the 56th minute of getting ready for work I had to leave, still without seeing her. 

What makes it more disturbing is that when I wake up in the morning I have a whole herd of cats ( Did I mention that I share a house with 6 cats in addition to one wife, one daughter, and one 90 lb rather confused dog who things he is a mixture of lap dog and cat) just outside my door.  In addition to wanting to welcome me, their god,  to the start of the day (my personal delusion)  they have somehow managed to train me to split a can of canned cat food between all of them in the morning (dry food the rest of the day).  During this morning routine this morning I cannot remember if I saw Chibi or not. 

While I know that she is OK and is somewhere sleeping having been tired out by a night filled with sleeping, I still find myself wondering if she is OK or if she managed to slip out of the house as I went to get the paper.  Did she hurt herself when scratching an itch (did I mention how sharp her claws are?) and is now bleeding to death in a corner of our stuffed garage?  Did she fall off the walking machine and bop her head thereby giving her amnesia so that she is wandering lost in our stuffed garage?  Did the other cats grab her in a fit of jealousy for having such sharp claws and are now holding her hostage in our stuffed garage? 

While I am not totally sure which of these plausible options is correct I have a gut feeling that the first one is.  Guess I’ll find out eventually.  Unless she really is out in the stuffed garage and helpless.  In which case I will never see her again.

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August 30, 2009

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