In Which Thimble is Sleeping

After an hour of sleeping on my lap, this is the marshmellow Thimble turns into. I had to keep my hand in the photo as he's got a paw wrapped around it!

In Which Apricot Approves the New Cat Tree

His approval has been given

I got a new cat tree for the kitchen and moved the old one next to one in the living room that, having space for only one cat in front of the window, had been a source of conflict. Apricot rapidly took up residence in the new tree. (It helped that it was the same as the old one in shape. Just a different color carpeting.)

Colby Poses in the Window

Colby doesn't usually sit here. This is Thimble's preferred spot, and Thimble has learned how to navigate the curtain, which here is pulled back. Colby, however, saw or heard something at the window that he wanted to check out. I don't remember where Thimble was at the time, but obviously not close or he would have been up there too.

I pulled the curtain back for Colby since it was frustrating him as he tried to get behind it but wasn't succeeding (not having Thimble's practice with it). And then realized that if I could only get the shot, this was a most excellent picture.

Unlike the majority of the time when I realize this, this time I succeeded!

Portrait of Apricot (2 years old) (more or less)

Apricot is, above all else, a gentle cat. He is the last cat who should be an outdoor cat, fending for himself, but that's how he was born and grew up. When he was finally caught and taken to a shelter, it was an extremely good thing he was taken to a humane society shelter where he could live as long as he needed to. Since he is terrified of humans he was not very adoptable, despite being a very pretty cat.

But I didn't behave like any human he'd ever encountered. When I interacted with him in the beginning, I used a lot of cat body language adapted for the restrictions of a human body. I was slow and quiet and gentle.

He responded to this by concluding I must be a giant deformed cat, and therefore, I was okay to be around. 

I really don't know if there are many people he would have been happy with, but he's happy in my house. I still use cat body language, and I still move slowly and carefully around him, but less so for each, as he's gotten more and more used to me. 

He loves his new baby brothers, Colby and Thimble, and he's learning so much from them. 

For instance: when I make my bed, I rotate the mattress (just rotate, not flip). I got tired of my mattresses wearing out so quickly, so I decided to rotate it often, and when making the bed is the perfect time. This means that, although the mattress never fully leaves the box spring, part of it does swing out over the floor as I'm walking around the bed, dragging the mattress with me. Apricot always found this terrifying and wouldn't even stay in the room.

Since the kittens have come, who find this whole process fascinating, Apricot has stayed closer and closer. First he just stayed in the hallway where he could watch through the open door. (It's a small bedroom, for a master bedroom, and a queen sized bed, so most of the bedroom consists of the bed.) Then he came in and would leave halfway through the rotation. I start from the far side and move around to the door side of the room, so he'd leave as the majority of the mattress came toward him. 

Last week he stayed in the room the whole time, over against the closet edge. This week he seems to have thrown caution to the wind, because not only did he stay in the bedroom the entire time, he stayed underfoot. I had to step over him (very carefully and slowly) as I was dragging the mattress around. This meant the mattress was in motion over top of where he was! And he just stayed there. (I am baffled.)

The kittens usually are playing on the cat stairs, because the stairs are in a different location (against the wall instead of against the bed) and have the comforter and blanket draped over them, thus making ambush places. 

Last December.
Apricot prefers being beside me rather than on my lap.

Another thing he learned from the kittens was that human laps are fun and good to sleep on. Before they came, I had managed to get him to spend thirty seconds or so on my lap at a time. Once or twice it lasted longer, even five or ten minutes.

Now mind you, I never make him do anything. I rarely carry him, as it scares him, and so most of the time I coax him to come where I want him to be by holding my hand out at petting level and using my voice to ask him to come over. Sometimes he does, and sometimes he doesn't, but more often than not he'll come to me. (I find this behavior quite wonderful and it boosts my self-esteem no end!)

So those times on my lap were from me coaxing him, never holding him in place, and just petting him and trying to make being there a pleasant experience. But he was never sure of his footing, as my muscles slide over my leg bones most distressingly, and forget about the clothing slippage!

However, he observed the kittens, who sprawl all over me with complete abandon, and have no sense of a proper lap. They'll curl up on me when I'm cross-legged, sitting on the floor with my knees up, sitting with my legs bent beside me, as well as the proper legs together and forward. 

Much to my surprise, he has started wanting to be on my lap, without any coaxing or invitation from me. He'll come over and look disappointed when my lap is occupied by someone else! And while he always tests his footing for each step, he will now relax on my lap instead of sitting stiff and guarded, and he's even fallen completely asleep many times.

How far he's come from the cat who wouldn't eat if I was closer than six feet away. Now he keeps eating even if I stand over him on my hands and knees and kiss his head. He does pause to return the head bump!

Before the kittens came sometimes he'd
fall asleep during Apricot Cuddles.

His special thing with me is "Apricot Cuddles" when I come home from anything other than my morning walk. He hangs out in the kitchen while I change out of my shoes into my slippers (my feet get cold easily) and in the winter, while I get my hands damp. And then I sit down with my back to the pantry door, and he rushes over and comes very close indeed and presses into me (how hard depends on how long I've been gone and how much he missed me). 

Since he didn't like laps I had been doing this with my legs at a 90 degree angle. Now I'm stuck with that because it's part of the ritual. Cats love ritual and you are not allowed to change it. Apricot barely let me change it to include damp hands, and that was only because he didn't particularly like being shocked by the static electricity any more than I did once the air dried out in the winter. I've only had him since last summer, so this is our first winter together.

But since Apricot's been with me longer than the kittens by a good six months, and he was an only-cat during that time, we have other special things. Upside-down kitty is one of them, where I'm bent over at the waist to untie my shoes and I pet him during this. Thimble likes to be an upside-down kitty too.

Apricot doesn't like conflict, and will back off if Thimble gets in the way. However, he really likes upside-down kitty, and he figured out that Thimble can only be on one side of me at a time. So he just goes on the other side. This means I have to make sure I don't stand too close to the door when I'm untying my shoes, so that there's room for a cat on each side. I also have to make sure I actually bother to untie my shoes, as sometimes my hands are both busy and I might forget. (Early morning after my walk and late afternoon after a long day at work are not particularly good times to be trying to remember petty details.) 

Apricot is not particularly pleased by his bunkmate.
Apricot was there first ... 

Another special Apricot thing that he came up with on his own is the daily supper sniff. He'll come to the right side of my chair when I sit down to eat my supper. He'll sit down on the floor and look up at me expectantly. I am supposed to get a small portion of my supper on my finger and offer it to him. He doesn't want to eat it. He wants to know what it is. 

I swear, if I have something five days in a row, which I do sometimes, I get this look from him, as if to say, "Again? Your meals are not very interesting!" (Oddly, he doesn't mind eating the same food all the time. He just seems to mind if I eat the same food all the time.)

Colby and especially Thimble were, and are, baffled by this. They think he should at least taste it. Thimble tried for a few days to get in the way and lick it off my finger, but I've decided, given that they are allowed on the table, that they don't get food from the table, ever. So I wouldn't let him, and he's gone back to watching Apricot do his dinner sniff moment with a very puzzled expression.

After Apricot sees what I'm having for dinner, he leaves to do other things. I've actually started saying, "This is what I'm having for supper" as I offer him my finger to sniff with the food bit on it. Sometimes, when I'm not having anything that lends itself to staying on a finger well, the part he gets to sniff is only part of supper. (A deli meat sandwich is like that. The only thing I can get to stay on the finger is the mayo I put on the bread!)

One of the new wand toys.
Which is an old toy I found
in a closet. It appears to be
one of Apricot's favorites.

Apricot really does not like conflict, and when we play with the wand toy in the evenings, he will usually participate but only when the other two aren't currently playing with it. Sometimes they both have to take a break at the same time, and then he'll jump in. I do try to engage all three of them, but I don't worry too much about it.

That's because the wand toy playtime is from before the kittens came, and it's another special thing that's just for me and Apricot. While the kittens are included initially, once they finally start winding down, I shut them in the nursery and then Apricot and I will play with the wand toy, just us two.

I got more wand toys than just the Bird one, and that seems to make playtime more fun for everyone. 

Apricot will have seemed very sedate and cautious while the kittens were playing. He'll grab the toy if it comes near him, and will sometimes run after it, but he won't go up the cat trees after it (that's Colby's thing) and he won't tear after it at high speed. You'd think he wasn't all that interested.

This wand toy can occupy two cats at the same time!

Until you put the kittens in the nursery. Then Apricot lets loose and you see he's just been bottling up all that energy, waiting until now. It's like when you get stuck behind traffic going really really slow, and finally you get to a place you can pass them and/or get on a high-speed road, and you just have to go zoom because you've been patient for so long and all that energy is wound up inside, and you've got to release it. That's how Apricot plays once the other two are taken out of the equation.

Apricot is a bookish sort of cat.

Nurturing Apricot's spirit and coaxing that frightened ball of fur into a happy, confident, gentle, sweet cat companion has restored my own soul. Perhaps one day another human will be able to come to my house and experience the joy that is confident, happy Apricot, but for right now, the one thing that hasn't changed is that he is still terrified of humans.

Portrait of Thimble (5 months old)

Thimble, at five months old, is a very definite person. He knows what he likes and doesn't like, and is trying to convince me that I won't talk him into liking being kissed on the head. (I'm pretending I don't get the hint, because I'm convinced that if I do it enough, he'll give up and accept it as a gesture of affection.)

He's still the boss, although he's got some subtlety to it now, and places where he doesn't mind not being the boss. When Apricot said you are going to be washed by me and don't you give me that guff about turning this into a playfight, Thimble actually seemed a bit relieved. As if he didn't really want to be responsible for everything all the time.

Thimble being washed by Apricot
while Colby sleeps through the whole thing.

He loves to interact with people. He's my greeter cat--when I have visitors, he meets them at the door and sniffs at them and observes them. And no, you're not allowed to actually pet him yet; he's got to finish his assessment and record it in triplicate and turn it into the head office before you can pet him. Luckily for the patience of my visitors, he's usually very quick in his assessments! 

When I come home, he's in the window waiting for me. Colby may or may not be there, depending on the state of his nap, but Thimble is always there. And when I open the door, Thimble is right there at the door, necessitating a greeting that goes somewhat like this:

"Hi, Thimble; hey Colby; back up Thimble; Apricot, I'm home!" Luckily Thimble doesn't mind being "hoosh-ed" back by grocery bags, postal-service-delivered boxes, or whatever else I'm carrying extra that needs space to come through the door that's more than the space I normally take up.

If I'm doing anything even remotely interesting, Thimble is right there. Sometimes closer than others, depending on what it is and how much space I've requested in the past. For instance, cooking requires more space because I'm moving back and forth along the counter space from the fridge to the oven and back again, and despite my efforts to improve, I rarely look down before moving my feet. 

Things that don't qualify as interesting: reading a book, playing games or checking email (etc) on my phone. Things that do qualify as interesting which are unusual given those things that aren't: watching tv! and taking a nap. I am apparently very interesting when I'm napping. It's not that he wants me to wake up, exactly. It's that he wants to take a nap with me. Very much with me. 

Napping with me on my birthday.
He's out like a light.

Thimble has a quirk that's physical. The last vertebrae of his tail goes off at a 45 degree angle to the rest of them. You can't really tell unless you feel it. I think it's cute, but I'm glad Ginger (the breeder) didn't keep any of his litter for further breeding because I think that sort of thing is genetic (thus, Colby probably has a recessive gene that, if paired correctly, would cause it) and I think it's not an accepted part of the breed standard. I still think it's cute. (It's not a physical problem for Thimble or anything.)

He also snores. On rare occasions.

It is great fun having him around, because he's always involved with what I'm doing, except during the times when it's okay by me if he isn't (I mean, when I'm reading I'd rather not be pestered, but when I'm watching tv I have these helpful petting hands not doing anything and a kitty is welcome). 

His special thing is jumping onto my shoulder. I taught him to jump up on something that's mid-height to me because I certainly don't want him jumping the five feet from the ground to my shoulder. As a grown cat, he'd probably knock me over! 

Then I ask him if he wants up and pat my shoulder with my hand. He has to consider things first, but he'll then launch himself at me, with the aim of getting his front feet over top of my shoulder and his back feet and body somewhere at my chest. He has no intentions of grabbing me. He just launches at me and expects me to catch him. Which I do. When I've invited him up.

Occasionally he forgets that I have to ask him up first, and he launches without warning. Generally this results in him "dribbling" down my front and landing on the floor, with me looking at him going, "well? It's not like I was prepared or anything!". Hopefully he'll get the hint and learn not to jump without my at least knowing about it. Again, the grown up cat size will be a little harder to catch, and impossible if I don't realize he's coming!

He and Apricot are getting along quite well, and often mirror each other. (Mirroring is a sign of getting along.) They have plenty of playbattles but also just times of being together. They don't sleep together yet.

Mirroring. Thimble took a nap with me;
Apricot showed up when I woke up.
He's not asleep, but Thimble's halfway there.

A great battle.
When Apricot's supposed to be cuddling with me.

Thimble's brown part of his tabby coloration is slowly becoming more visible. It's really there around his face, and a gorgeous shade of brown that I'm not used to seeing on cats, but the brown that's currently hidden in his back and side blacks is emerging as he grows. It's fun to watch. I noticed he had brown tabby showing up in his back leg "britches" the other day.

At five months he was ten pounds and a little over half a pound, and taller than Apricot. Perhaps I will rethink my position when he's full grown, but right now, it's nice to have a bigger cat. Oh, sure, I miss the days when I could get all three on my lap, but now I can actually hug Thimble without feeling like I'm going to squish him, or wondering what I'm supposed to do with all the extra arm space.

And he does like being hugged. He has to be on a surface, like the bed, and be hugged against me, to truly enjoy it. But he also likes being hugged when he's standing on my lap, which is quite nice. He's a very hug-able cat.

Portrait of Colby (5 months old)

This is Colby around five months old. (March 9 is the exact date of five months old.) His personality is starting to emerge.

Colby's phrase is, "if it's going to happen, it's going to happen to Colby." Despite the two of them spending equal time underfoot, it's Colby I end up tripping over most often. If someone's going to fall off the cat tree and hit the edge of the hearth with his back, it'll be Colby. (He's okay.) If someone's going to get a pill stuck halfway down their throat and have to wait for it to dissolve while breathing around it, it'll be Colby. (Again, okay.) If someone's going to be washing their neck ruff and get their fur tangled around a tooth and be unable to disentangle themselves, it's going to be Colby. (Not pleased at use of scissors to cut the hair and then me pulling the hair off his tooth, but okay.) He seems to attract bad luck.

He's my puzzler cat. He likes to figure things out and sort out the way things work. I was playing with them with a wand toy and tossed it into the cubby hole of the cat tree in the nursery. Colby was on the tree at the time, but he was facing the wrong way and didn't see where it went. It took a minute or two, but he figured out by tracing the string where the toy was, and you should have seen the ecstatic look on his face when he came out of the cubby hole holding it in his mouth!

Colby's also the one that figured out the baby teething toy. I got some teething toys for human babies because the selection for cat babies is a bit thin. This one is a segmented thing that each segment can rotate at the point it joins the next one, so you can deform it out of shape. Each segment is a different type of plastic for chewing on. I come home and find it in a different form than the way I left it, and given that I've only seen Colby playing with it, I believe it's Colby who figured out how to change it around. Even without opposable thumbs.

He's the one that plays with the food dispenser ball. It's a ball with a maze of plastic inside (it looks like it'd be fun to run matchbox cars down the plastic maze if it was larger and you could get them inside somehow). I put their normal food in it, not treats, and Colby rolls it around until the food comes out. He'll do it when he wants a snack and doesn't want to leave the living room, but he'll also do it when the other two ask him. I've seen him rolling it around, with Thimble and/or Apricot following close behind and scooping up the food bits as if they were quiet vacuum cleaners, and Colby only bothers to eat one if enough fall out that the other two are busy and some food is left over.

Sometimes the other two don't understand the difference between Colby dispensing food from the treat ball for them, and Colby doing it for himself ... I can tell because of the speed with which Colby goes after the dropped food bits! He doesn't growl at them or anything like that; he just darts in under their heads and snipes the food out from under them.

Colby's also in the process of figuring out the vacuum cleaner. Today as I vacuumed, I saw Colby in every single room I vacuumed, watching me. I never actually saw him follow me, but he must have. He's figuring out how it works. Oh, not the electricity and the suction and all that part of a vacuum cleaner. That's of no interest to a cat. He's figuring out that it doesn't move without me; that it follows a pattern across the floor where it rarely covers the same area after leaving it; and that there are certain points throughout the house where it stops and I disassemble it and do things off the floor and then reassemble it. Once he figures out all of this, he'll be able to hang out and watch it without the worry that it might suddenly race across and attack him. But as I only clean the house once a week, he's not had a lot of observation time yet.

He's the one who likes the tent. I'd gotten this tent many years ago but Pippin never used it, so I gave it to a friend of mine. Well, we're still friends, and her cat hadn't really been using it either, and she gave it back to me.

The tent is a popup kind of thing, and Colby figured out if you jump on it, and then get off of it, it will collapse and then pop back into shape. To Thimble, this is really kind of a "and? so what?" revelation; he doesn't see the fun. Colby loves to jump on it and make it collapse. He does it even when he's not trying to get another cat to leave. I come home and I find this tent moved and sometimes on its side. I anchored it (it has an elastic band for the purpose) but he didn't play with it then, so apparently, he doesn't mind if he turns it over or upside down.

Colby takes a while to warm up to you. In fact, he takes a while to warm up to me every time I come home. But I actually understand this, although I doubt I can explain it. And it's not like he watches me from across the house; he hangs out with me and stuff. It's just that, well, like if I try to kiss his head--if I've only been home a few minutes, he'll back up and stare at me. If I've been home for hours, he'll move in for a head bump. Thimble doesn't have the same hesitation, so it isn't just that I smell funny from being outside the house.

But Colby prefers a less interactive type of interaction than Thimble. He likes to be asleep on my lap, or a cat's half-awake napping on my lap, while I do other things. If I'm sitting down and reading or playing phone games, he's likely to be on my lap.

However, if Colby decides he wants attention, heaven forbid you don't give it to him. He can be the worst pest when he wants to be. I've discovered that when he jumps up to be on my lap, it's best to shower him with attention until he indicates he's had enough and he'd like to curl up and be "with" without all that direct interaction now.

Once he kept giving me the "go back to what you were doing" signal and then contradicting himself a moment later. Really being a pain. Thimble was beside us on the settee, observing. When I said something along the lines of "would you stop?", Thimble got up, put a giant paw across Colby's neck, and pinned him down onto my lap, as if to say, "now look, you really are being a pest right now, behave."

I love giving him attention, don't get me wrong. It's just the mixed signals were getting a bit much.

Colby plays harder than Thimble does, but that's nothing new. What is new is Colby's increased desire to look nice and have his fur be all sorted out. In fact, it was his distress over his neck ruff getting stuck in his harness' collar that led me to take the harnesses off them both. There were other reasons, but that's the one that made me decide to do it. (Of course, a few days thereafter, we had the aforementioned hair getting wound around a tooth incident.)

They each have a special thing they do with me. These things were initiated by them and continued by me. Colby's is jumping on the antique end table that Apricot's food and water are under. (They both prefer to eat from this bowl rather than the two in the nursery. I can't wait till I can put all three bowls in the same area!) When Colby jumps onto the table, I say, "Oooh, does Colby want a kiss? Colby wants a kiss!" and stop what I'm doing, whatever that is, and go over to him and kiss him on his head.

The first time I did this I'm not sure what exactly Colby wanted when he jumped up there, but that's what he got. The fact that he continues to do this means that he enjoys it and likes to be able to have me do something just with him, whenever he wants.

And I enjoy not only kissing the top of his soft, warm head, but also the communication between us that is plain and clear and no guessing involved. If he gets onto the end table, it means he wants a kiss!

Terrified Tuesday

Last Tuesday I was sitting in the settee after supper, with a kitten or two on my lap or with me. I don't remember specifically where everyone was; Apricot was in the room with us on one of the cat trees. It was dark outside.

All the sudden there came this angry pounding on the door. Not a knocking sound, but pounding, like with a fist. The cats scattered after the second repetition of this. I saw the Rowdy Boys flee into the kitchen, but I didn't see where Apricot went.

I was frightened. The guy just kept pounding on my door, over and over again. I looked out the peep hole in the door to see it was just one man, white, dark haired, and not a teenager or 20s, but with my prosopagnosia, that's all I could remember, if I called the cops and he left before they came.

Even with that handicap, I was about to call 911 because he just wouldn't leave. I even had the phone out. I was terrified of what he would do if I didn't open the door, but I was more scared of what he would do if I did. He finally left right as I got the phone app open. (Yes, I know I can dial it from the password screen. I forgot.)

But I was still afraid. He sounded so angry and demanding, that pounding over and over again. I fully expected a rock to come through the window, a petty retaliation for my not answering the door when he knew quite well I was at home. I'd already turned off all the lights, and I huddled in the middle of the living room, away from all the windows, waiting with my heart in my throat.

Since the noises had stopped, the kittens came out of the living room to see what was up. They both checked in with me, coming up to me and getting petted, and then, to my shock, Apricot came out of the kitchen and came over to me as well. I would have expected him to go hide in one of his normal hiding spots, not in the kitchen with the other two!

As I was still scared they picked up on it, and although no one left the living room, even Apricot, they dispersed away from me. Except for Thimble. Poor 3 month old Thimble came back to me and was reassuring me that it would be okay. I haven't had a cat do that for a very long time; Pippin was like Apricot, and I had to reassure him, not the other way around.

I greatly appreciated Thimble's efforts, which did help make me feel better. But I felt sorry for him, having to be the grownup when he's still such a baby.

Nothing happened, but when I cautiously went into the kitchen, I saw my neighbor's motion sensor light go on. I waited until it went off and then called them, to see if perhaps they had opened the door and found out what the guy wanted (or if I needed to call 911 because they'd opened the door and he'd wanted something bad and they weren't able to answer my call).

Turns out they'd just gotten home from grocery shopping, and the man accosted them in their driveway as they got out of their car! And he wanted them to sign a petition about voting. Like changing what kind of majority is needed to pass a certain kind of vote ... he wasn't clear to my neighbor and of course I got this second hand so I'm really not clear on it.

My neighbor said he told the guy straight-up that going door to door after dark in a street of mostly elderly people was a really stupid idea and he was going to get the cops called on him if he kept it up. Did I mention it was also 39 degrees (F)? What idiot goes door to door after dark when it's that close to freezing?

When I called my dad, he said that someone with a similar sounding petition had come by their place shortly before Christmas, so it sounded legitimate. My neighbor said he thought the guy was legitimate too, just deeply stupid.

I didn't call the police then, because a description from me is worse than useless, but it did occur to me that my phone may be capable of taking a photo through the peep hole, and so next time something like this happens, I can take the person's picture and give that to the cops.

It was a very scary experience for me. I suppose it wouldn't really be that scary for most people, but I'm not most people, and with three anxiety disorders to my name and counting, I get scared easily. (An anxiety disorder should really be called a fear disorder but then people would get it mixed up with phobias.)

But there's two good things that came out of the whole incident. First, Apricot is starting to trust the Rowdy Boys enough to hide with them, instead of by himself. And second, I have a kitten who wants to take care of me, too. I've really missed that. Now I have a cat I have to "be strong" for, and a cat who can "be strong" for me. Kind of completes the circuit, so to speak!

Here is Thimble, from a different day, when I discovered that if you have a sleepy kitten on a heated throw blanket on your lap, and you've turned the blanket on high because you're feeling ill, said kitten may just toast himself into an absolutely blissful state instead of leaving because it's too hot.

A Toasted Thimble

Two's Company, Three is ... Just Right

written Sunday Jan 18, 2015

My meta-CAT is becoming quite the together group. (In case you're new here, that's the first letters of the three cats' names. Which yes, I did on purpose.)

On Friday nights I set up the washer to start my dark laundry wash the next morning. This involves sitting on the floor with the laundry hamper, a collapsible blue mesh thing, on its side, and pulling the clothes out and sorting into two stacks; one stack is inside the washer and one is beside me.

The last two Fridays I have had help. Lots of help.

A collapsible hamper seemed a good idea when I bought it.

It's not just the two curious, unafraid kittens helping me now. Apricot is joining in, in his own way. No, he's not transformed into another unafraid kitten. He'll always be wary and need to hang back and investigate, and that's the hopeful side. He'll also be more prone to hide than investigate, simply because of who he is.

But now he comes and investigates more often, and the kittens' behavior often draws him out into the investigation.

Because of this, I can now open and shut an umbrella in the kitchen (to let it dry) without terrifying him. He saw the kittens both investigate it, and then play with it (they shadow-boxed through the fabric, and luckily it lost its play-luster quickly, because I didn't want to water-squirt them away from it while I knew Apricot was watching their reactions to it). Then in about five minutes I observed him sneak into the kitchen, body low, cautious that no one saw him (I don't count, apparently, which is both nice and insulting, but perhaps he didn't realize I could see him from where I was), and he sniffed the umbrella as it stood open on the floor.

That's the closest he's ever gotten to it. Since that time, although he won't go near it, he also doesn't passionately avoid the kitchen either, and if I pick it up to close it, he won't leave at high-speed like he used to.

Colby and Thimble are like a bunch of stereotypical human teenage girls. They can't go to the bathroom by themselves; litter box time must be communal.

Actually, even cleaning the litter box should be communal, according to them, but as they get miffed when I scoop out from under them, I have learned to block access to the box while I'm trying to clean it.

Aw, come on, let us in!

On the twelfth I got this photo. Apricot is using the litter box (he's about to, anyway, and yes, he completed the thought) and the other two are there as well. Two's company, but three is apparently not a crowd any more.

One day I was trying to clean the litter box after work, and had both kittens climb into it. Colby acted like he was actually going to go, so I left the room to play on my phone while they finished. Many emails later, they were still making noises in the litter box, playing.

Apricot walked in. He gave me a puzzled look. Why are you standing there with the phone instead of sitting down like usual? I said, "The kittens are still playing in the litter box." I was rather exasperated and this tone came out in my voice. Apricot did the cat equivalent of nodding sagely, and walked into the bathroom (as you can see, the litter box is in the shower stall. I use the bathtub in the other bathroom because I'm too claustrophobic to be in that shower stall with the door closed, so I might as well use it for a litter box room).

Seconds after he went in, but with no audible noise from him, both kittens came out, not in a hurry, but not hanging behind either. Then Apricot came strolling out, and gave me a look, Is that better? Bemused, I said, "Thank you, Apricot," and went in to finish cleaning the box. He so very rarely asserts himself that I still doubt the circumstantial evidence. It certainly seemed like he rousted them out of the litter box, though!

Now when he sees them in there, he gives a little sigh, makes a u-turn and goes into the pink room to use "theirs." Generally speaking they don't follow, because one was in the litter box to actually use it, and the other one was there to keep the first company. The one using it isn't going to stop in mid-action just to go bother Apricot, and the one keeping him company isn't going to leave because, well, that defeats the purpose.

And Saturday morning I went into the pink room and sat down in the sunshine with the phone. Thimble loves to be wherever I am (something I dearly missed after Pippin passed away), and unlike Apricot, who just happens to be in the same room but on the other side of it, Thimble wants to be right next to me. So Thimble came in. Colby followed quickly on his heels, and they started playing.

Then Apricot came in and lay down to watch.

I made noises to get them all to look at me.

In the photo, that's my purple sweatpant-clad knee in the lower left.

Apricot came in specifically to be with the rest of us. I'm so pleased with him! And that blue fish toy at Colby's feet is a power-catnip toy that Ginger gave me for the kittens. Remember Apricot's reaction to catnip? It wasn't a good one. (It's at the bottom of the linked post.)

I have found him multiple times rubbing and cuddling that fish toy, making himself happy instead of overstressed like catnip used to do for him. Apparently, he's confident enough that having the extra jolt of catnip energy is pleasant instead of frightening!

And today came the, in my opinion, culmination of Apricot's acceptance of the kittens. Colby got on my lap to take a nap. He often is the first one on my lap, generally when Thimble is occupied with a toy or the water fountain. It gives him time alone with me which is something Thimble doesn't often let him have, so he seizes the opportunity when he can!

Thimble, as usual, noticed the situation and decided to remedy it by also getting on my lap. Colby was in a normal position for a lap cat. Thimble stretched across me between my torso and Colby. He had enough room as long as I used my arm as an extension to the lap. I could still hold the phone and play on it, so we were all good.

Apricot walked over and observed the situation. Then he jumped up on the chair I had my feet up on, and climbed over my toes to reach my lower legs. Whereupon he promptly stretched out and joined the other two in covering me with a blanket of cat.

Colby was purring. Thimble was purring. And then I felt Apricot's low rumble start up. Everybody was close together, on my lap, of their own volition, and happily purring.

A Most Excellent Photo

I held the phone out and snapped a photo, and managed to get this of Apricot and Colby looking at the phone. Thimble's still here with everyone else. He's just up closer to me. You can just barely make out my fingers on what looks like Colby's back. No, he doesn't extend back that far. That fur belongs to Thimble.

So Colby and Apricot have a new buddy, each other. They don't just play together; they're actually starting to wash each other. It's still brief licks at this point, but it makes my day to see them so happy together.

And Thimble splits his time between the other cats and me. He's a born Supervisor cat. He not only knows what we are all supposed to be doing, but he's quite willing to tell us what that is. Even as we're doing it. 

It's so great that they are all getting along and not just "getting along"--they're happy together. 

Apricot even had to make a decision last night on staying in the pink room with them. I was willing to let him do it, but I thought he probably would regret it if he did. He decided against staying with them then, and came out with me, but the very fact that he considered the possibility was exhilarating!

Just Little Tales

Thursday, Sept 25, 2014

Yesterday Apricot almost meowed. He normally squeaks, you know. But I heard him squeak quite loudly and with an inflection that sounded almost like a "me-ow" and I hastened into the living room to find out just what had caused this minor miracle!

He was sitting by the patio doors as I came in, but he left and launched himself up onto the cat tree by the window to look out that window quite intensely. I peered out the window beside him, and finally found the cause of his excitement.

There's a little tabby cat that sometimes comes by the patio / deck, and she (I have no idea really about her gender, but she looks like a she from a distance) was sitting on the deck at the stairs. Apricot knew she was there but he couldn't quite see her from where he was.

The encouraging thing is that he didn't sound angry or upset when he squeak-meowed at her. He sounded more like, "wait, come back!" Perhaps this means that he will be receptive towards having kitty company in the house. I certainly hope so!
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I think perhaps he is comfortable around me now!

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The short fabric tunnel that sits on the living room floor has suddenly (as of this week) become Apricot's favorite place. He only wants to play with the Bird wand toy in and around it. He wants his goodnight and goodbye kisses inside it.

He will, however, pick a secondary spot to have his goodnight and goodbye kisses, but I have to explain each time that I can't kiss him in the tunnel because my head won't fit inside.

I get this view a lot these days.

So it sat there for three months before he decided it was okay. Now he doesn't mind if it rolls while he hurtles through it, even if the roll means he comes out on the other side slightly tilted. It's funny watching him recover his balance. He's gotten very good at it.

And the stuffed stars and moon that hang from inside it are great fun to play with, so much so that he will sometimes ignore the Bird if it has drawn his attention to the star. There are two stars and one moon, and they hang one star at each end and the moon in the middle, and the three are positioned each a third of the way around the circumference farther than the one before, so that no matter how the tunnel is rolled, there's always one hanging from the "ceiling". Only Apricot likes the one that ends up on the floor.

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I have been watching more tv recently, and he will come in and jump up on the sofa beside me. Apparently this is the way it goes: he jumps up, I pet him, he curls up and stays for a few minutes before he gets bored, and then he gets up and goes out the door. Half an hour later he'll come back in again.

Perhaps this is more along the lines of "come out and be with," because he gets very happy when I finish the episode I'm watching and come into the living room, leaping up from where-ever he is and racing over to me. I lean down and pet him, or sit down and pet him, and he loves every minute of it.

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The next day: so of course the minute I write that he only wants to play with the tunnel when I get out the bird, that's the day he decides to add the hallway play back into his repertoire. Silly kitty!

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Sunday, Sept 28, 2014

I have a few "most excellent" photos of Pippin that are my favorite pictures. They number less than ten, and run through his entire lifespan. Yesterday I was able to get my first "most excellent" photo of Apricot.

This is destined to be a favorite photo, I can tell

The situation behind the picture is this: I have crazy birds at my house now. I have no idea why. Birds beyond the typical robins, mockingbirds, and bluejays, too. I think I saw a sandpiper and a bluejay fighting in a whirlwind of feathers across the backyard yesterday. (Apricot thought this was so much fun to watch.)

Anyway, this is out the front living room window; Apricot is in the spiral staircase cat tree in the top cup, trying to get a better view of one of the crazy birds, who had decided for reasons known only to birds that my gutter was a dreadful thing and must be attacked repeatedly.

The sun was falling across Apricot and he had this look of intensely happy concentration on his face. And I actually managed to get it duplicated into a photo. So many times he has "most excellent" moments but I can't get the phone/camera out fast enough to succeed in capturing them!

Retrospective: A Lot of Pippin Posts Today

It is September 26, 2014.

If you notice, which you probably won't if you don't check my blog every day, (or get told to, Mom & sister Sophia), you'll realize that I've posted quite a few Retrospectives for Pippin today.

There's a reason for that. Today is one year since he passed away. I thought this would be a good way to celebrate his life, to write about all the silly, crazy, wonderful things he did and was.

Sister-in-law Dawn made this afghan for me.
I clipped a bit of Pippin's hair and she matched
the colors. The afghan, surprisingly, looks brown!
Only when Pippin was actually on it did it look
the same color as he.

He was my soul-cat, the child of my heart. And although grief is not ripping me apart now the way it did most of the last year, I still miss him very much.

And there will be more Retrospectives to come in the future. After all, I still haven't scanned in the photos from the first five years of his life, and there are plenty of stories there!