“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.

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.

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?

]]> http://www.musicianswidow.com/blog/2011/06/24/kitten-update/feed/ 0 http://www.musicianswidow.com/blog/2011/06/22/it-was-a-total-oh-shhh-moment/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=it-was-a-total-oh-shhh-moment http://www.musicianswidow.com/blog/2011/06/22/it-was-a-total-oh-shhh-moment/#comments Thu, 23 Jun 2011 02:51:34 +0000 Denise http://www.musicianswidow.com/blog/?p=2235 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.

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

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!

In my own backyard… I just didn’t have many photo opportunities this week, so I took all of these photos in my backyard. So, I apologize for the over-cat-ification of this entry. ;)

Waiting to bloom.

Soaking up the sun rays.

This is one of four feral cats that have adopted us and live in our backyard. Maliboo wants to be tamed it seems, though. He stays within 3 feet of us at all times and seems to adore our indoor cat, but he is just a LITTLE too skittish still to pet. We're getting there. We'd love to catch him and bring him inside someday.

Sweet Bailey is our inside cat, but he loves going outside to get some sun.

Playing with brightness and contrast settings on my cell phone camera.

Again with playing with brighteness and contrast settings. Love the shade of blue it turned the sky.

Close-up of Bailey. He's slowly getting more patient with my camera-wielding ways.

Maliboo lets his curiosity get away with him and comes within inches of me. It took a lot for me to not reach down and pet him.

Honeysuckle, try two. My first attempt at a photo of my honeysuckle ended in my getting soaked. My neighbor was watering his tree just on the other side of the fence. He didn't know I was there and the water stream came over the fence and doused me! Needless to say, I double checked there was no neighbor around when I got THIS shot.

♥ ♥ ♥

Photos taken using a Rokinon DZ1000 or my Droid Incredible.
View all of my photos available on my Flickr stream.

So, I got up and started cleaning. I even made a trip to Target to pick up more cleaning supplies. My cat, probably fearing that I might vacuum him (or use him as a duster), hid all day under the bed.

As my cleaning for the day drew to a close, I stripped our bed to wash the sheets.

There is nothing like fresh sheets, I say. I think if I could feasibly have fresh sheets every night, I would. But its not feasible, so I make due with about once a week.

I waited with anticipation for my sheets to get finished washing. I threw them in the dryer, and then ran to jump in my freshly cleaned shower.

That is part two of the epic sleep experience. Freshly showered, plus fresh sheets (throw in a thunderstorm — which I didn’t have, but that’s what the Lightening bug application on my phone is for) and you have most epic night of sleep. It seriously doesn’t get any better.

Okay, maybe you could throw in a back massage. But I don’t want to be greedy.

The dryer buzzed, and I pulled the warm, soft sheets out. I took them to the bedroom and started to put them on the bed. My cat came out and watched me. I gave him an evil eye. Last time I put sheets on the bed, he decided he needed to check out the fitted sheet personally for me before I could continue. He left a nice clump of white fur behind before I could shoo him off.

(Sidebar: putting on sheets makes me miss my old cat, Sully. He always made a total pill of himself trying to “help” me… and I’d always get mock-mad at him. Usually, we’d end up wrestling with the comforter. Good, good memories.)

I finished the bed without any problems, and, as I expected, my cat jumped up and curled up in his favorite spot: right below my pillow. I patted him on the head, and I took the laundry basket back to the laundry room. I grabbed a few clothes that needed to be put away and took them to the bedroom. I hung up the clothes, turned around and then saw it.

MY CAT HACKED UP A HAIRBALL ON MY BED.

I may or may not have uttered a few choice curse words. That’s between me and the cat. But he did a good job of it, and I decided it was payback for scaring him all day long with my cleaning. The wetness of it had gone through the comforter onto the top sheet. THANKFULLY the fitted sheet was unscathed, but it didn’t matter that much. I still ended up re-stripping the bed and shoving my comforter and top sheet in the wash.

I prayed my comforter survived the ride.

It kind of did. One corner had some batting sticking out when I pulled it from the wash, and I had to go find a needle and thread to patch it up before drying. That was fairly painless, and I did eventually get my bed reassembled. But somehow it all seemed like a lot just to get that epic fresh-sheet sleep.

Worth it?

In a word: YES!!

Are you a dog or are you a cat?  I don’t mean which one do you prefer; I mean which one’s personalities do you emulate while at work.

The dog

When we took in the dog for the weekend, the thing that struck me was how he was so “in your face” at all times.  I couldn’t move two feet and he’d be on my heels. (Something that drove me CRAZY!) In a matter of moments, he’d uprooted my cat and taken his spot on the couch beside me. He was domineering.

It struck me quickly how people can be that way in life and in business. There are those personality types that will be right in your face, demanding attention and approval from their peers and superiors.

Imagine for yourself a new guy walks in the door at work. His eyes are bright with excitement for the job, and any time the boss comes in the door he’s on their heels asking what he can do. What’s the next big project? Do you need coffee? A pen? Something to write on? What can I do for you?

There is without a doubt something to be said for someone with that personality. They’re going to be the first in line to do anything. They’re going to jump when they think something needs to be done immediately.

We all need “dogs” in our lives to keep us motivated as well as to be reliable. You know they’re going to be right there the second you open your mouth to ask for something. Sometimes they’re there even when you don’t need anything… and that’s okay too.

Dogs will more than likely move up the “food chain” quickly due to their persistence and unending amount of motivation and energy. However, I’m not sure what their chances are of being in upper management. Some “dogs” have that leadership quality inherently. Many, though, aim to please and are best being told what to do.

The cat

Comparing cats and dogs is about like telling the tortoise and the hare story.

Cats are more laid back and less in your face. They’re around, doing their thing, all while observing the scene around them. Taking stock of it. Deciding the best maneuver for themselves based on those observations.

When the dog was getting a little overly attentive to me, I’d find myself wanting to seek out my cat. I wanted his calm approach more than the hyper approach of the dog that was driving me a little crazy. I wanted to throw the dog a stick to go one way while I went to hang with the cat.

I imagine in an office setting, a “cat” is that person who sticks to their desk and methodically does the job at hand. They may not necessarily seek out the next job they need to do, and as such could potentially be viewed as being lazy. They might even be that person who gets their neighbor to get them a cup of coffee, “whenever you happen to go that way.”

However, at the end of the day, they get the job done without having made much noise. They’d be the ones who might not get noticed as fast, but they’d also be the ones that get sought out specifically for a task.

I imagine they’d also make great bosses. They’d give you the job, let you know what is expected of you, and instead of beating you over the head with it, they just give you that stare. The one that is disapproving. The one the might make you think they plan to kill you in your sleep. The one you don’t want to get, and thus you do the job without having to be told more than once. It’s not that you know what your punishment is… it’s more that you don’t ever want to find out what it would be!

Other pets

I don’t think I have to explain the snake personality. It is that person who lies in wait — possibly even emulating the cat personality– only, they will be the first to strike and take you out if you get in their way.

Hamsters run and run and run, only to never really get anywhere. They’re just happy to be there.

Horses pull the load and do the hard work. They end up, though, having someone always telling them what to do and when to do it. They’re revered and respected, but at the end of the day they’re never going to make any final decisions of their own.

Personification of animals is nothing new. This whole thing was just something fun I’ve chewed on the last few days.

I took a lot of sociology courses through college — which, by the way, I hated but always just fit in my schedule somehow. Sadly in hindsight, I was very close to having at least a minor in it. I took a few philosophy courses and one psychology course. So, this is my disclaimer: I write this with no real education or paper on the wall to back up anything here. These are just my personal opinions and thoughts.

By the way, I’m not only a cat person, but I’m a “cat” in business as well. Anyone have any idea what they are, and why?

Dog vs Cat -- a scene from my house this weekend

This last weekend I had both a dog and a cat in my house. Growing up, I always considered myself a “dog person” with a dislike for cats. That dislike probably came more from others not liking cats than any real opinion of my own, because once I got my first cat… I began to discover a “cat person” in myself.

This weekend confirmed the transformation was complete. I am without a doubt a cat person.

A cat you can leave for a day without any concern. As long as they have food, water, a litter box and maybe a toy or two, they’re good to go. Self-sufficient, they are. A dog, though, you have to take out and walk. There’s no leaving them for more than a few hours! I also discovered a need for constant attention. This is just something I can’t do working from home. Working Friday ended up being a total bust, and I chalked it up to a life lesson kind of a day.

Anyone who knows me, though, knows those life lesson days usually end up with my doing research and learning about whatever phenomenon I’ve run into. So, I did a quick Google search for “dog or cat personalities” and stumbled upon an article summarizing research done by the (*gulp*) University of Texas in Austin into this exact idea — a difference in the personalities of dog and cat owners.

The article found:

• Dog people were generally about 15 percent more extraverted, 13 percent more agreeable and 11 percent more conscientious than cat people.
• Cat people were generally about 12 percent more neurotic and 11 percent more open than dog people.

So, based on those findings, I’m neurotic, disagreeable, not very conscientious and open. Makes perfect sense to me. Describes me to a T.

Or not.

For me, being a cat person is more about the fact that I want a pet companion, but my schedule is just not structured enough to have a dog. I need a pet that I can snuggle with now and then (especially when the husband is on the road), but that I can also not have to worry about being upended by a sudden change in plans. (Plus, if I am gone for a few days, I only have to worry about finding someone to check the cat every other day at most, versus a friend having to make a daily commitment to the task.) Yes, I want the protection that only a dog can provide, but ultimately the frustration I’ve felt having to care for a dog has made that want a little less important. I’ll stick with my checking the locks every night, keeping a head’s up about my surroundings, and just using my head in every situation in front of me.

So, hello world. I’m Denise. I am a cat person.

(I can hear my brother groaning now.)