A Blog devoted to progressive politics, environmental issues, LGBT issues, social justice, workers' rights, womens' rights, and, most importantly, Cats.

Sunday, June 18, 2006

Cat blogging

I wish I were a photographer like Four Legs Good, whose pix of his/her Lion Kitty Maxx are so stunning, you can almost feel the plush.

But I'm still working on pix of the Chiyuldrun. Nasty little buggers never will hold still. Or be cute, except when the camera's out of reach.

I've been working long hours, which means they're all deprived and super needy when they actually see me, which isn't often or for very long, so I spent most of today in bed with my favorite Redhead, ZB. Madu is out terrorizing the small life on the hill. I admit it, I have a terrible weakness for the Ginger Cat. Which is what both ZB and Madu are. Gojira is the little gray one, the only girl in the family. Just as well, since girls are way more territorial in small spaces than boys. The boys are mostly good, except that psychokitty Gustav just bugs the crap out of everyone with his paranoid rushes at them, and his offerings of sacrificial plushtoys.

Gustav is a Japanese bobtail. Reminds me of some crazed ronin from, I dunno, the start of the Meiji era, maybe? Although he's finally off the Valium, which is good. I hate giving them anything chemical (except catnip, which they mostly love), after all it's not as if you can sit them down and tell them what to expect. Not that they'd believe you if you did, and could. Or whatever.

It was awful drugging Gus, not only because he was bad about his medication, but it just made him so ... drugged. But he was wack without it, and making all the others' lives miserable with his unexpected attacks and loud caterwauls and constant paranoia.

Gojira and Madu are bother and sister (no typo - she bothers him no end. Actually, she mostly bothers his rear end. It might be the sole reason for her existence). She's an ass biter. He can't walk past her without her trying to munch his behind. He's a mellow, big fat lazy orange honey of a cat, so he mostly ignores these near-constant depredations of his hind end, but periodically, even he's had enough, and he chases her around, beating on her with paws and teeth. Of course, he weighs ~10-15, and she's a svelte six-pounder so she can outrun him without trying, not to mention execute course changes in mid-run, leap over him, leap straight and sideways, and climb into inaccessible spaces. Like our laps. She had us snowed for the longest time, and would run screaming onto our laps after many hours of butt-munch, and be rewarded with many "Bad Madu!" "Stop trying to kill your sister. Bully."-type scoldings for him and much hugging and kissing of her, even sometimes carrying_upstairs_to_safety_of_bed, where she would reside like the princess she is, smack bang between us, because, really, what better use could there be of our time and energy but to ensure her safety from any passing marauder, while simultaneously petting her to near death_from_ecstasy?

Till we caught her doing the buttmunch followed by the shrieking retreat. What. A. Pest.

I think we caught on when we noticed that she was also munching our butts. She's got a lot of Russian Blue in the Heinz 57, the typical wiry gray blue coat, the acid green eyes, lot of the behaviours. She's always cold. I don't get this. Supposedly, Russian Blues come from Archangel, way in the north where it's always, or mostly, cold. So we have this cat who likes to sleep under the covers, fer cryin' out, and won't go outside if it's foggy or under 65F, and won't even get out of bed until the sun comes out. So we let her under the covers with us, and what does she do? That's right. Assbite time.

OK, so we're a bit slow, but hey. She's SO cute, how could anyone believe this innocent face might harbor evil?

Well, enough about Gojira for now. Oh, one more thing - how she got her name. It's the original Japanese monster's name, of course - Anglicized to Godzilla for us non-Japanese-speakers. She was dubbed this from her habit of making wells in the comforter, in which she would hide until some unsuspecting fellow feline or human would pass, whereupon she would leap up, stand on her hind legs, skinny paws flailing wildly, and emit a squeaking roar that sounded an awful lot like "Meep!"

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