Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Monday, August 09, 2010


I have become the cliche of an aging spinster: I am now a Cat Lady. I am not yet a Crazy Cat Lady until I get at least 2 more, possibly 3. My apartment is littered with cat toys and various scratching devices which are of minimal interest to Daisy and Bunny. Nothing will ever be as satisfying to scratch as the sofa and armchair. Fortunately both are holding up fairly well.

I still can't tell them immediately apart in appearance; Bunny has a silkier coat and Daisy has a rounder face, but I can STILL get them wrong until I see their collars! Bunny is immediate, Daisy is leisurely. When Bunny would like some cuddle time with me, Daisy would prefer to pick a fight. Daisy prefers to nap around my neck, while Bunny will curl up on a footstool by herself sometimes.

They make me very, very happy. When I wake up in the morning, I would much prefer playing with them than going back to bed. I take much pride in the fact that they are healthy and putting on weight rapidly (as if I had anything to do with it beyond putting food out at consistent intervals!) The real giveaway is the fact that now I can't do needlework anymore; at least not until they become less destructive and more sedentary. And I don't seem to mind in the least!

As a result of the sudden cessation of needlework, TV has become rather boring. I could sit for hours in the evening watching tv while I made things, but now without something creative to work on with my hands, it's really not enough to keep my full interest! Although I still sit and watch because the kittens insist on a certain quota of lap time.

Bunny is fascinated by the bathroom. The shower is just plain interesting (but she's too wobbly still to hop up without losing balance) and the toilet... well, she has fallen in at least once that I know of. Yes, it was HILARIOUS. It didn't hurt her in the slightest. They chirp and squeak sometimes; Bunny is an alto and Daisy a soprano.

Bit by bit they tear down a little of my Structure daily. A phone cord chewed into segments. A water bowl tipped over in the kitchen. Litter kicked around on the linoleum. Scratch marks all over my shins from attempting to climb into my lap. Anything within reach is theirs for the taking. It's just a matter of time until they can reach the counters. And they have a secret hidey-hole in the Tupperware cabinet. They found a 3-inch hole the allows them to squeeze in and out. I have to wash anything from that cabinet if I want to use it!

I remember what it was like when I could put something down and it would stay there until I moved it. Now it's all about putting things away, and hoping I haven't forgotten something they can reach. They are my little 5% sample of what it is to be a parent. The vet bills, the cat food, the worrying that they will get hurt, the toys, the time they need... I know, probably not even 5% of the equivalent of a baby. But it may be the closest I get.

THANK GOODNESS. I'm exhausted!