Category: Cats

My intention for this week’s blog post was to write about Chicon 8, the first WorldCon I’ve attended. Unfortunately, despite the convention’s rock solid policies (proof of Covid vaccinations was required for on-site attendees, and masks were required except when actively eating or drinking), we managed to come home with what appears to be a mild case of Covid. This is, not surprisingly, affecting my energy levels… and my ability to swallow without wincing. Hot tea with honey helps. Actually hot water with honey does too, depending on my mood.

Hopefully I’ll be able to write that post up over the weekend, as we’ll still be quarantining. Meanwhile, here’s a tiny glimpse at packing with cats. Before the convention, Arwen made herself comfortable on a blanket covering the puzzles destined for Chicon’s Teen Lounge. (How many puzzles were assembled in the Teen Lounge during the four days it was open? I have it on good authority that none of them were. Instead, they were busy playing games and coloring and generally hanging out with other people in their age group.)

There were several instances of cats in the suitcase as I was unloading, but I was too busy to take most of those photos. Finally, when I was done emptying it and about to clear it from the living room, Arwen made herself comfortable taking a bath in one corner. (The suitcase eventually left the room, but has not made it up to the attic yet.)

I was asked recently why all of my kitten photos are of Zuko napping. Typically, if he’s not napping, I’m too busy stopping him from misbehaving to take a photo! But I have four cats, and the kitten is certainly not the only source of amusement.

About a week ago, I had just settled into bed with three of the cats when the fourth one, June, started howling from the living room. This wasn’t the normal “feed me” cry (or even her intent to use the litter box meowl), it was more of a “something is terribly wrong” anguished howl. Zuko perked up and jumped off the bed; I followed with a flashlight. As we reached the edge of the living room, June stopped howling and calmly walked to the sofa… and stood there, looking at the pillow that I had left in her normal spot. Well, yes, the rest of the sofa was available, but her spot wasn’t. I moved the pillow and went back to bed.

We have a projector and white screen rather than a TV. Zuko is the only cat who is consistently interested in what’s appearing on a screen, whether it’s my phone, computer, or the white screen. This isn’t normally a problem, but occasionally he’ll launch himself at the white screen… either grabbing at the handle, or actually attacking something onscreen. This is particularly awkward during my workouts… he’ll launch himself at the Centr.com trainer (usually Luke… I don’t know why) while I’m planking or otherwise not in a position to stop him. Oddly, when we’re watching a show, he’s fairly good about attacking the antagonist.

At night, Arwen likes sleeping under the covers. This isn’t a problem if I’m already awake enough to lift the covers for her… and otherwise, she’ll make sure to wake me up for it. In typical cat fashion, this usually means walking across my face in the middle of the night.

Diane is the most likely of the older cats to play with Zuko, and even that (at least, willingly) is infrequent. I was somewhat amused on a recent occasion when she jumped up on my bed mid-afternoon and started to play with him. A couple minutes later, he was gone and she was settled in his sun spot, so perhaps it wasn’t as friendly as it looked.

The cats are definitely not allowed on the counter, especially when food is being prepared. Arwen’s so unclear on this concept that she gets locked in my room as soon as we start preparing food. Zuko’s a bit better behaved, though he usually ends up in the room with her before food is served, sometimes just because he’s underfoot and we’re worried about tripping over him while carrying hot thigns. Diane and June are almost always well-behaved… but when Diane isn’t, despite being the largest cat in the house, she manages to jump on the counter silently. And she’s the only one who cares that she gets in trouble for it… she’ll slink off, hiding under the table, then rushing past us to go sit on the sofa with a guilty look on her face, curling up as if she had been resting on the sofa the whole time.

And that’s why I don’t usually have action shots of the cats.

Like people, each cat has a distinct personality… I say as I step away because Zuko is getting into something he shouldn’t. Kittens are a bundle of fun and defensive actions. However, as the youngest member of the house, he’s the last on my list to talk about. Unless he commandeers the keyboard, of course… he jumped me from round 1 to round 5 of a workout yesterday.

Diane, our oldest, is generally the calmest cat in the house. She hasn’t really warmed up to Arwen over the past couple years, so we were surprised at how well she received Zuko. Diane is the slowest eater, and likely to stare at the other cats as they push into her food bowl rather than stopping them. She’s smart enough to figure out the hunt & feed toys, but doesn’t like competing with the other cats for food, so I end up putting out multiple toys when I feed them dry food. She only climbs on the counter looking for human food when she thinks nobody is watching, and will guiltily slink off when spotted.

June was a young mother when we adopted her and has always been interested in bathing everybody. Note that I didn’t say “every cat” – she’ll bathe anybody who will let her (which does not include me!), and habitually licks furniture and walls too. She’s still a bit unsettled about Zuko’s arrival, but I expect that she’ll eventually bathe him too. She will occasionally paw at my bedroom rug, purring loud enough to be heard across the room. On the rare occasion we find her on the counter, it’s because nobody was in the room and Diane was already up there cleaning a tray or pan. An expert at hiding, she will flee to her nearest hiding spot when caught on the counter.

Arwen, with a hunter’s metabolism, has always been food-oriented, to the point where she gets locked into my room before we even start preparing food. She spent the last couple years trying to convince Diane to play with her, and now thinks it’s annoying when Zuko does the same to her. Kitty karma, especially the lurking outside the litter box while it’s in use part. Particularly in the winter, she sleeps on my arm, purring me to sleep. She likes heights, frequently jumping to the top of a bookshelf to loom over the room like a gargoyle. When found on the counter, she will rapidly look for something to eat, or eat whatever she thinks she found before she gets removed. No guilt there at all.

Zuko is unquestionably a kitten. He demands attention, pawing and nipping at ankles, or jumping up on me during work and purring loudly while he settles down for a nap. Once he’s settled, I’m allowed to set him on the sofa. By the time he’s too heavy to climb curtains, I suspect I will need new curtains. Zuko’s counter exploration is mostly just exploring – he tends to jump up outside of meal time, then wander or sit down comfortably until he’s removed. I realize he has Arwen as a bad example, but hopefully I can teach him that the kitchen counters and dining room table are off limits.

To paraphrase Prince Edward from Enchanted, “What’s not to love?”

At some point in their life, every cat was a kitten. But Zuko, our newest addition, is the youngest cat I’ve adopted in quite some time.

Diane and June were both around a year old when we adopted them, and they were adopted a year apart. We adopted Diana shortly after becoming a one cat household; Mungojerrie (aka Mungo) had never been an only cat and was adamant about needing attention… in the middle of the night. We went to the local pet store to meet the available cats (from a shelter they partner with) and Diane called to us. Literally, she meowed at us for attention.

A year later, we adopted June, who was a young mother looking for a home. Two of her kittens were with her that day, but their personalities weren’t a good fit with Diane and Mungo’s. She fit in perfectly, and between her and Diane, they got Mungo moving again until he passed away at nineteen.

A couple years ago, we adopted Arwen, our “kitten”; her adoption story has already been told here. She settled in nicely with June, and eventually reached a peaceful point with Diane, with the occasional mutual bath. She was already six months old by the time she moved in, and remained our smallest cat, but only by weight; her metabolism is that of a huntress.

Near the end of May, some friends were adopted by a cat with her litter of kittens. Despite cat allergies in the house, they took them in and looked after them until the kittens were old enough to find new homes. Two weeks ago, the potential adopter for Zuko fell through. I had been good up to that point, but really, he needed a home, and who could resist that face? Even the older cats are coming around, though if he really annoys them, they could just sit on him for a while, given the size difference. And like Arwen, he purrs like a motorboat.

I mention my cats in passing frequently, so I thought I’d dedicate a little more space to them this once. They do their best to keep my life interesting, each in their own way.  This is a rare photo of all three of them together.  It would have been convenient if they’d arranged themselves by age for the purpose of this post, but that wouldn’t be particularly cat-like.

Starting from the left, Diane is the oldest.  She was adopted in 2009 when we suddenly found ourselves as a one-cat house, and that cat, Mungojerrie, was making it quite clear that it wasn’t acceptable.  As I recall, he was actively looking for companions in the middle of the night, at volume that reminded us that our black cat was part Siamese.  We stopped at a local pet store – the general pet stores near us partner with shelters in the area – and Diane called out for our attention.  I do mean that literally, she meowed at us as from her enclosure.  It wasn’t long before she and Mungo were happily curled up together.  She is the largest cat in the house, mainly noticeable when she decides to walk on me.  Twelve pounds isn’t a lot to pick up; it’s fairly significant when distributed across a paw or two when you’re lying in bed.  Fortunately, she usually prefers to lay beside me.

In the middle is Arwen, our toe-biting, counter-climbing kitten.  (Technically, at almost two, she’s no longer a kitten.  But I don’t think she’s realized that.)  Diane still hisses at her sometimes, which makes this photo all the rarer – Arwen had to wait until Diane was settled before coming near her on the sofa.  Arwen attacks toes (at least, mine) a little less than when she first moved in, but climbs on everything and anything, especially if she thinks there’s food available.  Because of her, my kitchen cabinets now have child locks, and she ends up banished to a bedroom while we’re eating.

Delusional cat

trying to steal from my plate.

She’s locked up again.

When I serve them canned food, it’s a constant battle of keeping her off the counter while I scoop it into their bowls.  Diane assists me sometimes, poised with one paw in the air, ready to swat at Arwen when I push her off the counter.  Arwen makes up for it by curling up on my arm at night and purring me to sleep.

The rightmost cat is June, the mom cat of the family.  When we adopted her, she was just over a year, and two of her kittens were available for adoption as well.  She will bathe any other cat that’s available, and any people who let her.  (No, thank you!)  She used to be amazingly skittish, bolting whenever a cabinet closed too loudly or somebody went in or out of the house.  She rarely flees now, though she is still the best at “it’s time for the vet hide-and-seek”.  On any given day, she curls up with one of the other cats, waking up occasionally to bathe them.   On cold nights, she likes sleeping under the covers, though she never stays the whole night.  She doubles as an alarm clock, making sure I’m awake to feed them breakfast at an unreasonable hour.

Just over 8 months ago, we welcomed Arwen into our lives. She is, without a doubt, still a force of chaos, also known as a kitten.  I know, she’s over a year old now (since she was 6 months when we adopted her), and technically not a kitten, but I don’t think she realizes that.

She has taught everybody in the house a bit about patience, some better than others.  Diane still has points where she barely tolerates Arwen, particularly on the bed at bedtime.  But I’ll wake up in the middle of the night to find Arwen lying next to her, and sometimes June is there too.

If there’s human food involved, Arwen’s the first one there.  Constantly.  But she’s not up on the counter (as much) while I’m cooking, and has learned most of the time to wait until I put a plate down to lick.  That said, I still won’t walk out of the dining room with a plate of food at the table, and leftovers have to be tucked away while we’re eating.

She’s been great at getting June to exercise, they will tear through the house playing at random times.  Honestly, that’s one of the reasons I wanted a kitten, to encourage the older cats to move more.  (Hasn’t work so well with Diane.)  And they curl up together at times, just like June and Diane still do.

She is a mighty insect huntress.  I can always tell when there’s an insect in the house, because she’s suddenly leaping straight up at the window or the wall.  I rarely notice what kind of insect it was.  Unfortunately, I have far fewer spiders than I used to; I think she’s eaten all the obvious ones.

She’s even learned not to use her claws when grabbing people.  She still reaches out to grab me, but now it’s cute instead of painful.  Her obsession with nibbling on toes, well, that’s still a thing.  Slippers are our first line of defense.