lizwilliams (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lizwilliams) wrote2007-08-27 12:46 pm
lizwilliams) wrote2007-08-27 12:46 pm
Entry tags:
Gratuitous cat post
I haven't done a Sid Rep for ages. Basically, he's settled in very well. The bald patch where his poor tail used to be has grown back, so he now looks like a small black bear or a lamb. He has also grown, rather a lot. He has established a summer routine for himself: go out all night ('Bye, babe. Going out to do Cat Stuff. You wouldn't understand.'), then return for breakfast and the daily attack on the menace that is our staircase. What is it with cats killing stairs?
The Household Award for Dignity at Breakfast goes to our Rottweiler, who sits patiently waiting while the two boys, Sid and the Alsatian, run to and fro, squeaking and yelping with the Excitement of It All. Attempts to get the dog to calm down have been only partially successful. Last time I tried this, I asked the dog to sit and he promptly did so, but unfortunately on top of Sid, who was not appreciative. Sid climbs up the side of the kitchen unit like a bat in an effort to reach his dish, since I am always much too slow. ('You don't understand! STARVING! MIGHT DIE!!!')
Then he has a day of restful repose: inside the conservatory if the weather is inclement, or outside on the table or in the laundry basket if it's fine. Repeat breakfast performance for dinner and that is Sid's day, with some additional lap-sitting, bed-invading, exchange of insults with female cat, etc.
This morning, I came into the kitchen after breakfast to find a poor broken-backed mouse trundling towards Sid, who was watching with interest. Bore Sid away and asked T to finish it off, which he nobly did. Sid was initially pleased ('cuddle!') but then realisation dawned: I had a mouse! AND IT'S GONE!!!
He was locked, protesting, in another room while vile deeds were carried out and the last I saw of him this morning was of Sid heading grimly towards the outbuildings in search of another furry toy. It's possible to hate them.
The Household Award for Dignity at Breakfast goes to our Rottweiler, who sits patiently waiting while the two boys, Sid and the Alsatian, run to and fro, squeaking and yelping with the Excitement of It All. Attempts to get the dog to calm down have been only partially successful. Last time I tried this, I asked the dog to sit and he promptly did so, but unfortunately on top of Sid, who was not appreciative. Sid climbs up the side of the kitchen unit like a bat in an effort to reach his dish, since I am always much too slow. ('You don't understand! STARVING! MIGHT DIE!!!')
Then he has a day of restful repose: inside the conservatory if the weather is inclement, or outside on the table or in the laundry basket if it's fine. Repeat breakfast performance for dinner and that is Sid's day, with some additional lap-sitting, bed-invading, exchange of insults with female cat, etc.
This morning, I came into the kitchen after breakfast to find a poor broken-backed mouse trundling towards Sid, who was watching with interest. Bore Sid away and asked T to finish it off, which he nobly did. Sid was initially pleased ('cuddle!') but then realisation dawned: I had a mouse! AND IT'S GONE!!!
He was locked, protesting, in another room while vile deeds were carried out and the last I saw of him this morning was of Sid heading grimly towards the outbuildings in search of another furry toy. It's possible to hate them.
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D'you think from a cat's-eye perspective, his whole life is framed with fridges, that will surely open if he can only find the hidden switch...?
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"You're disturbing my nap. Did you want something?"
"Actually, while you're in there, would you mind sorting through the stray lids and tossing the ones that don't fit anything?"
"ZZZZZZZZ"