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Cat's Logs - Week 18

I've rarely seen a more disgusting sight than GlennaJo clipping her toenails.

You'd think she would follow my good example - after all, I have twice as many nails and know how to manage them without getting yelled at for sharp claws or accidental scratches.

Here are my tips for proper nail care:

You can never be too agile, too well-rested or too well groomed.

When GlennaJo got home today, her shoes gave of the most enticing aromas.

There's a faint scent of some animal's spoor from early in the day overlaid by bubble gum, tar and cola. Plus she's worn these tennies in the rain and there's an ever-increasing musty smell.

Once I enjoy these odors, I'll sleep on the shoes for an hour or so to transfer my scent to them. This has the added benefit of worrying GlennaJo, both because I don't normally hang out in the entryway and because she thinks I may go overboard and spray them.

Trust me, there are more subtle and equally effective ways to spread your scent.

Gotta go fix the scent scheme while GlennaJo's busy typing this...

I'm musing on the similarities between humans and ants.

I've noticed that GlennaJo leaves home at the same time almost every day and gets back at the same time almost every day. I, on the other hand, am creative and flexible, sleeping in a wide variety of places (some of which are best not mentioned to GlennaJo). This hive mentality has caused me to brush off one of my favorite anthropological theories: humans are much more closely related to insects than their scientists will admit.

If you look at behavior rather than physical structure, the parallels are striking:

I'm glad to be a member of an advanced species where the individual has more opportunities.

A technician came over yesterday and I did NOT hide--I ran away from the awful smell.

Apparently this guy has some bad habit called "smoking" that causes the odor.

I think someone was pulling my tail because when I asked what "smoking" is I was told people roll a bunch of leaves up in a small sheet of paper, light the end on fire and then breathe through the tube. If that were true, humans would be an endangered species!

We felines have very delicate respiratory systems (especially me with my aristocratic Persian nose) and shouldn't even be near smoke, let alone purposely inhaling it.

Whatever it is, I'm sure glad "smoking" isn't one of GlennaJo's bad habits.

We're having a pretty significant territorial dispute around here.

GlennaJo basically considers me an extension of herself. She's never happier than when I'm within arms reach. While I can understand the attraction, this can make me feel pretty crowded.

But she spends all her time at the 'puter and keeps letting that bratty "princess" sit next to her. Then she doesn't understand why I don't want to sit there anymore.

Don't humans have any sense of smell at all?!?.

My favorite time of day is 4 in the morning.

At that time, even small noises have a most gratifying effect on GlennaJo.

Shifting my considerable weight on the creakiest floor board can result in her gasping and jumping out of bed. And the sound of me climbing into the aluminum recycling bag is even more dramatic.

But what's really fun is climbing onto the bed and waking her up with my nose. You can tell by her twitching eyelids that she's struggling to decide how to react. On one hand, she's conscious of the great honor I am paying her and doesn't want to offend me. On the other, she really isn't in the right mood to get up and play.

They're so cute when they're sleepy and confused.

This morning when GlennaJo woke up I decided to be sociable and jump on the bed to greet her.

First a friendly (although somewhat condescending) pat on the head. Then she started playing.

You know that "walking" with the fingers thing. This time the hand was "sneaking" out of the covers to touch my paws. We play this game fairly often and she seems to particularly enjoy it when I wrap my paw around her finger and try to pull her hand out into the open.

At first this was a pleasant way to start the day with GlennaJo laughing and me honing my hunting instincts using sound and the reflections of movement visible through the covers. But GlennaJo kept it up until I was forced to grasp her hand with my teeth.

Humans just don't know when to stop.

Chats
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Squirt
18 in x 24 in
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