In the Middle of the Night

sweet Abby?

Did I mention that Abby, our singing Chihuahua, and Button, our snoring cat, barked and hissed at each other at two o’clock in the morning the other day?  Thoughtless man that he can sometimes be, Bruce, my husband, had already gone to bed! While there was no actual contact between feline and canine, yet, I thought it best to separate them.  I grabbed the dog off the bathroom sink where I was combing her, looking for any fleas before she got in bed with us. With care, I gently tossed her on the bed as I told Bruce, who was still mostly asleep, to cover Abby’s eyes so she couldn't  see the cat, in hopes of defusing the animal confrontation.

Where's Button?

     He replied in his best bedroom voice, “Are you nuts?  If I try and hide her eyes, she'll bite me! My big toe is just now healing where she got me last week."  
     "Cry me a river," I sympathized. "Don't get any blood on the sheets this time!" 
     The next morning he asked, “What goes on in the middle of the night while you’re prowling the halls of our house? I had the craziest dream…”

The Great Uncovering

Due to my Bunko party, I had the annual Great Uncovering.  It was so grand an event, it made our little parlor appear twice the size!  Whatever could this be?  If a cat or dog belongs to you--let me rephrase that--If you belong to a cat or dog, then you will understand the necessity for swathing your furniture in sheets, towels or blankets to protect it from the ravages of stinky, biting, shedding, clawing, but loving, animals.  We have tattered burgundy towels pinned to the back of our recliners overlaid by matching burgundy sheets.  That, dear readers, was what was removed, hence, the Great Uncovering.

 

note attractive shreds

 

The naked easy chairs left such a positive impression, the room could have been photographed for Good Housekeeping magazine. With the towels and sheets, I think Kennel and Flea magazine would be more fitting.  “Let’s give it a try and leave the chairs uncovered,” I said to Bruce. “Button (aka Little Naughty) will be a good girl.  She’s a year older and won’t shred the furniture.”

 

“Go for it,” Bruce replied, laughing in my face.

 

And so I did—for about 17 minutes.  Ignoring the extra tall scratching post which I read was good because it would draw her attention like a tree outside, she eyeballed the furniture and pounced.  I heard the tearing before I saw it.

 

“No!” I commanded.  To her mind, no means: I’ve got their attention now and atta girl. More claws, sharper claws.  Oh, you missed a spot.  Be sure to include every square inch now.

 

After I lifted her from her hang-ten position on the back of Bruce’s chair, I thought to try the water bottle.  Sitting in my still naked chair when she attacked, I sprayed her with water.  On the chin, the side, the hip, I squirted her.  She retreated to lick and clean herself, only to  return for more and more and more.  When she started smelling the water bottle I placed on the floor beside me for easy access, I realized she was clawing the furniture to get me to spray her!  She was training me! And, too, I remembered that she loves water. ( As a kitten, we found her peeking out, yes out, of the toilet bowl.  It seemed reasonable she would like water because someone once told me if a cat has any orange fur, Button is a calico with orange, black and white fur, they are related to tigers and tigers swim. Believe it or don't.)  

 

Well now, the room, once again, appears smaller since I’ve returned the freshly laundered sheets and towels to their permanent positions.  Bruce suggested I add a white hand towel where the head rests.  We wouldn’t want to soil those ripped sheets, now would we?  Besides, a raggedy old white towel will be a standout against the rich dark burgundy—an interior designer's delight, to be sure.  Sigh… 

 

Cat Quote

I came across this quote, in my August 7, 2012 Page-a-Day cat calendar, and had to agree.

"A catless writer is almost inconceivable.  It's a perverse taste really, since it would be easier to write with a herd of buffalo in the room than even one cat.  They make nests in the notes and bite the end of the pen and walk on the typewriter keys."  Barbara Holland, http://www.pageaday.com/



our Button visiting Story Central
 

No Space Unfilled

Our family motto is No Space Unfilled. 

 Looks like our kitty, Button, abides by the same motto. 

Everybody Loves Somebody

As you may know, we are down to one kitty now.  We recently went away over night and left Button on her own with bowls of food and water making up two different feeding stations. Our neighbor, Next Door Maggie, checked on her, just to be safe. When we returned, there she was, Button, not  Next Door Maggie, sitting where we'd lefter her but she was not alone. She had found a friend!  Apparently, Button had gotten lonely and went looking for some company. She found some in the form of a small teddy bear in a pink t-shirt with the breast cancer ribbon logo on it, who lived on a branch of my Treasure Tree.  (I'll save the Treasure Tree story for another day.)  It wasn't that the bear was on the couch with Button as in the photo or tossed carelessly on the floor.  No. We found the little bear in Button's bowl of crunchies!  Apparently, she was making sure her new friend had plenty to eat!  Since then, we've seen Button carry her Baby, that's what we call the bear now, from room to room. Not all the time, however.  Since Button is new to this friend/mothering thing, she sometimes seems to forget her responsibilities.  Just when we think she's no longer interested, we get up in the morning to find a soggy, soaking Baby, half in, half out of the water bowl.  We squeeze Baby out, and set her on the window sill to dry.  It must be true love on Button's part because dry, wet or damp, Baby has a home and Button has a baby.  And a fine pair of critters they are.