Musician's Widow

“Curiosity killed the cat!”

“Oh you’re just a scaredy cat!”

I’ve heard those two sayings all my life, never really pondering how they contradict each other… until I’ve found myself living with one of each:

Scaredy Cat

Oh my sweet, sweet Bailey. Never have I known a more gentle and loving cat. I don’t know if he even knows how to use his claws to scratch in defense or malice. He just want to love and be loved.

And he also just wants to hide at the drop of a hat. He is my Scaredy Cat. Sometimes, despite his want to be loved, he’ll run and hide even when you just try to reach down to pet him!

When we have company, it’ll take hours before he’ll venture out to even peek around the corner at these strangers who have invaded his space. When we go out of town and ask a friend to “check the cats for us” we often hear that they just hope Bailey is okay, because, “I didn’t see him at any time I was there.”

His favorite place to be is under our bed. For hours and hours and hours at a time. If he happens to be curled up in his cat bed in our bedroom, and I go in to just get something off my dresser, he’ll BOLT under the bed before I can even say, “Oh, Hi Bai–.”

He is my sweet little scaredy cat.

Curious Cat

Oh. My. Goodness. Rascally Smokey is curious cat to the -nth degree. He IS a mischievous child.

His newest curiosity is my closet. It’s up high, with a seperate cubby for my shoes on the bottom. I open my closet to get a shirt, and he leaps up inside… we spend ten minutes of me pulling him out, going back for a shirt, only for him to leap back in again. It usually results in my having to kick him completely out of the room to get dressed.

He wants to climb inside of dresser drawers, and he’s already once been locked in the bathroom for hours on end because I didn’t know he’d gone to lay behind the toilet while I showered.

The freezer is of particular interest as well. I go for ice and he wants to climb in and investigate (the freezer is on the bottom of our refrigerator). I go to close the door, and instead of getting out of the way, he tries to just climb up on a shelf. Frozen curious cat, anyone?

He climbs. He jumps. He pushes his boundaries. When guests come over, he is ready to climb in their lap and get to know them. I think he thinks his name is, “No!!” or “Stop it!!”

My crazy, crazy curious cat.

My husband and I have a new kitten. I’ve mentioned him before in here. Like a child, he can get into things and be a hand full at times. As such, I end up locking him and our older cat out of the bedroom sometimes just to get some sleep.

This was the case this morning. I wanted an extra hour of sleep, and he wanted to play. So I booted the cats from the bedroom and closed the door.

I got up later, blurry eyed, and came out of the bedroom to find the older cat watching me from my desk chair. I pet him, and then I shoo’d him off the chair so I could sit down and check my email. I noticed my dark blue hoodie was still piled on the seat. The cats love to sleep on blankets, clothes, whatever, so I wasn’t surprised he’d been curled up on the chair.

I plopped down on the chair and… it moved. I don’t mean it rolled. The whole seat moved under me.

I HAD SAT ON THE OTHER CAT!

I never saw him sleeping on the hoodie. He blended in with it, especially with my only being half-awake. Why he didn’t scurry off with the other cat is beyond me. But boy did he squirm! He got out from under me and BOLTED.

I felt bad. I worried about having hurt him. In the end, I laughed. For about ten minutes. He got a rude awakening and, really, so did I!

Poor guy hasn’t had a good day since then, as he decided later to pass me in the hallway by going THROUGH my feet (didn’t go well for him) and his brother has been in play mode. So any time he emerges from a nap, he gets playfully tackled. That could be why, when I went to take the photo of him for this post, he got up and turned his back on me.

Oh he’s fine. No injuries except maybe some bruised pride. And I suspect he’ll not be napping in my desk chair again any time soon.

I have a very good excuse for not blogging yesterday: I mowed the lawn. The whole lawn. With a push mower. And it was 89 degrees outside. Yes, I’ve mowed the lawn back at my parents house in hotter temps, but I was also on a riding mower. Much lower impact.

So after mowing the lawn, my butt was kicked and I laid on the couch most of the rest of the day. It wasn’t until around 1 AM that I stopped radiating heat out of the top of my head. Crazy.

To make up for the lack of blog post, I bring you pictures of the kitten and a quick update.

Everything is great! He and Bailey have made friends, and much of the day I don’t even see either of them as they are off playing. Though I saw the kitten REALLY well when he jumped up and landed IN my salad I’d made and was eating on the couch. I was not happy, but now find it funny.

Anyway… I’ll hush and let you see a little bit of the entertainment that my cats provide.

Run Smokey, he's after you!

"Why, I outta..."

Mine

All tuckered out

Who is that napping with me?

Zzzzs...

Enough with the pics, kay?

This post is cross-posted to Road Widows.

My husband is on his way to a few shows in Canada… something that is always an extra challenge due to cell phone rates going sky-high when there. But apparently, I decided to make it an extra level of stress today.

We got a new kitten this week. Our cats’ liter boxes are on a back porch, with a little cat door for them to go through. Keeps the smell down in the house and it gives them privacy. However, the little kitten had yet to figure out how to use the cat door, so I decided to take on the task of getting him to “get” it today.

I walked out into the porch, closed the door, and started trying to coax the kitten through the door to me. After trying for close to half an hour, I gave up. We’d try again another time. I reached for the door handle and… it wouldn’t budge.

THE DOOR LOCKED BEHIND ME. I wanted to cry. I fought with the door. I tried kicking it in. I tried to pick the lock (which I’ve never done before but seemed to think I could do it this time). Nothing worked. I reached for my cell phone. Only. It wasn’t in my back pocket where I keep it all the time. Then I remembered… I’d left it on the couch. My mind raced for ideas on what to do.

The back door is off that porch, so I could at least get OUT. Just as I got that door open, as if the situation needed a splash of humor, the cat door swung open and the kitten came out onto the porch with me. I guess on the bright side, the kitten figured out the door!

But once I got outside, I had to ask myself, “Now what?” I started trying windows. None would budge. I was starting to realize that breaking into my own house is a lot harder than I ever thought it would be. A good thing, of course, but it didn’t help me in that moment! My husband has spare keys to the house and our truck, but he is hundreds of miles away.

I looked around and decided it was time to start knocking on doors. I tried four doors before I found someone home. I asked to use the phone, and they let me! So I called my husband, since his number is the only one I know (and left a voicemail) asking if he’d call our landlords to come let me in the house. I visited with the neighbor — a single mother who is my age! A new friend, perhaps! — and then I said I’d just wait on my front porch until help arrived.

As I left her house, another neighbor drove up and asked if they could help me. I explained my situation, and this couple invited me to visit on their back porch until my landlord got there with a key. I told them all about myself and my husband, and I left their house with their phone numbers should I ever need help again. The wife said, “With you home alone so much, you NEED someone close by that you can call for help!” So true!

At one point, the neighbor asked me, “What did we learn from this?” and I laughed and said, “Never leave my phone on the couch?” but in reality, I learned that I live in a great neighborhood. I am the most cautious person in the world. I don’t like people really knowing when I am home or when I’m not… when I’m alone and when my husband is home. But it felt so good to find good people nearby who were willing to help out a “stranger” and end up with a new friendship.  Maybe I need to know my neighbors and let them help look out for me, especially when I am here alone so much.

Meet Smokey, our newest addition to the family. He looks annoyed, but actually he’s a total sweetheart. We adopted him today from the Nashville Humane Association.

My  husband and I had been talking about getting a second cat for a little while now. Ever since we lost Sully a year ago, I haven’t had much interest in a second cat. Bailey does just fine as an only cat…

…or he did. In about the last month, he’s become Mr. Needy. Perhaps its because we’ve had so many houseguests come and go. Perhaps its because its tour season, and my husband is gone regularly. But, its like he has to be under foot non-stop, or be in my lap while I want to work or eat. He sleeps almost on top of me at night.

I love my cat, but seriously?

He was just screaming, “I need a playmate.”

Holding us back was the cost. Shots. Spay/neutering. Etc. How could we put that kind of expense out on a pet? Especially when we need to be saving for later this year, and we want to start focusing on kids.

Then. I saw a news report.

Humane Society focuses on 30 day cat adoption campaign

“All adult cats are ranging from $0 to $28 and all kittens have been reduced to $65 adoption fees,” explained Lisa Reeves with the Nashville Humane Society.

According to Reeves all of the felines up for adoption have already been spayed or neutered and have already undergone their first round of vaccinations.

My ears perked up. I called my husband on the road. We agreed as soon as he got home, we’d go pick up a kitten. We could NOT beat that price!

So we went today to pick out our new family member.

Our attention was first drawn to a grey tabby that demanded to be loved. Precious!! It was a female, though, and we really wanted to stick with males.  Very vocal, also, and that made me shy away as well. Bailey is vocal enough! I didn’t want another super-vocal cat on my  hands!

Plus, this sounds terrible, but when we adopted my parent’s dog, it was a similar situation. She jumped out of the kennel into my arms… we thought it was that she picked us. No, she was just over rambunctious, and while we love her… she’s not the brightest tool in the shed. So. Lesson learned. Look around and decide what you want more than which pet demands your attention first.

We kept looking, and one headbutted his case as I walked by… I had kinda wanted a black cat, and there were those orange eyes staring back at me. Purring up a storm, I took him out of his cage. I liked him right away. My husband wasn’t as sold, so we kept looking.

We wanted a kitten so we could raise it in our world, versus try to adapt to how an adult cat was raised previously. A few of the other cats caught our eye, but our choice of males was slim.

So we went back to Smokey — as he was named at the Association, and as we decided to keep him named — and my husband held him this time. He snuggled down into his arms, and my husband said, “Okay.”

We filled out our paperwork, paid the $65 fee, and left with a new kitten, a box of cat litter, a coffee mug, two boxes of Girl Scout Cookies (Thin Mints, for the WIN), cat toy, cat treats, and a voucher for coupons to Pet Smart. All we have to do is get his next couple rounds of shots. Otherwise… the only expense now is to feed him! I am so blown away by what all we got for the fee. I remember when we got Bailey neutered… Around $150 on top of what we’d paid to adopt him in the first place! I feel like we practically stole Smokey! LOL!

Ahhh… He and Bailey are still getting to know each other. There’s not hate there, just distrust on both sides. It took Bailey and Sully a few days to get to know each other when we got Bailey, so I know to just be patient. They’ll be best friends in no time, and we’ll be one big happy family!

First meeting of the new brothers

The other night, I decided my cat is part dog.

I was sound asleep, when I felt my cat pounce on my legs. Now, this isn’t unusual at night when he decides he wants to snuggle. But this was different. This was with playful intent. Following the pounce was the jingle of a bell and a “merrrrr-ow!”

He wants to play.

I want to sleep.

Without opening my eyes, I sat up and fumbled around for the offending toy… and I tossed it out the door. The cat practically spun out trying to chase it.

I settled back to drift back off to sleep. I was almost there when, “OOmph!!” I was pounced on again, complete with bell jingle and mew.

Oh, so now my cat plays fetch, huh?

I must have groaned out loud or something, because my husband asked what was wrong.

“Apparently, our cat is now a dog,” I said grumpily.

I grabbed the toy and threw it as hard as I could… hearing it hit something with a thud in the next room.

The cat never came back, and I discovered the next day that my toss wedged the toy between the wall and a box. SCORE! The cat couldn’t get to his toy so he COULDN’T bring it back.

I think I’m going to start putting his toys away at night. No more games of mid-night fetch for me!