From an e-mail to Jenny from a bit earlier today:
I have Kazon in my lap and both Grendel and Loki resting on the desk right here beside me. Kako, as usual, is elsewhere. She’ll grace me with her presence as she deems fit, and she certainly wouldn’t be caught dead participating in such a disgusting display of camaraderie. She is her own woman, that’s for sure.
After wallowing in the misery of my inner ear infection last week, an experience I suggest you avoid at all costs, I started this week with the equally painful decision that it was time to look for a job. Oh, the anguish… There is still so much to do that can not be done once I go back to work. Damn it! But one must pay the bills, n’est-ce pas? And I have no desire to consume the majority of my nest egg, otherwise I would hesitate not one moment to take off the rest of the year. Where’s a sugar daddy when you need one?
So, I’ve updated my résumé and have started the depressing search for gainful employment. I’ll let you know when that bears fruit.
In other news, I saw a new neighborhood cat this morning. I don’t believe I’ve seen this one before, although had I seen it at night, I would be hard pressed to recognize it during the day. This cat is like Kako in every way: petite with a sable-like coat that is dark (almost black) on the outside and ivory (almost white) near the skin. It was a beautiful cat who showed obvious curiosity when I started speaking. I ran inside briefly to grab some cat food and water to see if I could tempt it into eating/drinking, and when I returned to the patio, it had approached closer to investigate the cup of coffee I left sitting outside. Much to my dismay, I frightened the poor thing when I stepped back through the door, so it ran off around the corner. Sometimes I can be so dense…
I’ll keep watch for this new visitor. Like the plethora of stray and feral cats around here, sometimes I only see them once and they never return.
Vazra did not grace me with his presence today. It’s not unusual for him to skip a day now and then, but he’s generally consistent in visiting me between 5 and 6 in the morning. As I’m generally up at that time, or am at least approaching the awake state, this is not a problem. And should I be sleeping when he arrives, he won’t hesitate to wake me. Yesterday morning was a new experience in that regard. I was sleeping late as I’d been up late the night before (more on why in a moment). Despite having cats talking in my ear and gently touching my face in the hope of waking me up and getting my tired ass out of bed, I remained under the covers and disinterested. And then it happened. Somewhere in the fog that exists betwixt sleep and wakefulness, I distinctly heard meowing and gentle tapping on glass. That woke me up.
I rolled over to look out the patio doors and immediately saw Vazra sitting on the other side peeking in at me. He was meowing, yes, as that’s his normal calling card, but he was also tapping lightly on the glass with his paw. Hysterical! He’d never done that before, so I can only imagine he got frustrated that I wasn’t waking up in response to just the meow, so additional action was necessary. Well, it obviously worked. I thought it was terribly cute and entertaining. “Hey, mister, are you awake? Now? Yet?” Tappity-tappity-tap. “Are you awake now, mister?”
As for staying up late, I’ve been on the lookout for Momma Possum since her recent return with babies. Holding vigil on the patio with camera in hand, she oddly enough has failed to make an appearance while I’m awake. In fact, I’ve not seen any opossums since the night when first I saw she’d come back with her children. I saw three opossums that night alone, yet since then I’ve seen none. Sometimes I really believe they’re conspiring against me. But still I wait and linger into the wee hours of the morning just in case I might catch a glimpse (and, therefore, a photograph) of her. I would love to get a pic or two that show the babies clinging to her and roughhousing in her pouch. I’ve not given up yet…
In the meantime, I’ve seen plenty of raccoons. I even took some photos of a couple of them from the other night. After they come through, I normally toss a bit more food down in case the opossums come through. Luckily, even if more raccoons come through before their marsupial neighbors, the masked bandits don’t touch any of the apple that I make available. That’s good as it leaves something for the opossums (apple is their favorite food).
And speaking of raccoons, last night I saw a very young one come through to grab a bite to eat. It was smaller than Kako (not by much, but still…). All alone in the dark of night, it found its way to the dinner table I set and there enjoyed a tasty treat of raw peanuts, raw pecans, red seedless grapes, pineapple, cantaloupe, and cat food (it sat outside too long yesterday and absorbed way too much humidity). I did not try to take pictures of the little fella/fellerette as this was the first experience it had with me and I didn’t want to scare it. Instead, I just spoke in hushed tones and watched, making sure it was aware of me and realized I was not going to harm it. What a cute little beast it was, too.
So, how’s that for a diverse post?
I spoke once about how Loki dreams. If we know rats run mazes in their dreams, is it any wonder that each of The Kids dreams in their own way? Of course not.
Working furiously on another post, I heard from the cat castle the undeniably aggressive moaning of Kako. It was the long, drawn-out meow that signals a very unpleasant disposition. Every cat does it, and every cat has their own unmistakable take on this classic sign of displeasure. Kako’s is no different.
I immediately looked up to see her tail madly twitching at one end of the feline furniture. She was asleep in the tunnel running horizontally across the top. If that tail was any indication, she was in a very bad mood. So I went to take a look.
Standing atop the lower platform, I peeked into the tunnel and saw her in a coma-like state. Her eyes were tiny slits of ocular attention blinded by the fog of visions. Like her tail which was still quite active, her paws trembled in response to the running that only existed in her mind. It was fascinating to watch. Whether fleeing or chasing, she was on the move. And she was not happy about it.
Her moans continued. Was she threatened by something? Being that close and listening intently to her voice, I recognized what she was saying. What a gift that is, to know your children so well as to interpret correctly every nuance, every oscillation, every subtle difference in every single thing they do that only a parent would notice.
She was afraid. And she was trying to escape.
I reached down and petted her. At the same time, I said things like “Time to wake up” and “It’s okay” and various demonstrations of paternal concern. She did not awaken, but she did fall silent.
I looked at her in full so that I might know her state. Breathing in slow shallow depths, I knew she was fine, but she really wasn’t in a happy place. And she was sleeping so deeply that practically talking into her ear and scratching her head failed to wake her. In the meantime, she ran on.
That definitely signaled it was time to ensure her consciousness.
I reached down and cradled her head in my left hand, and then I reached down and slid my right hand behind her back. Then I scratched her with the former and gently shook her with the latter. All the while, I repeated the same aphorisms I’d offered before.
Her eyes snapped open and she immediately looked at me. There was confusion first, the lifting of the haze that suspends over the mind just after waking. Then came the focus, the snap of attention toward me. And finally, the annoyance, the look that shouted “What the holy hell are you doing? Are you so blind you couldn’t see I was sleeping? And why do you have your dirty mits all over me? Stop touching me, damn it! Now what the flying fuck is your malfunction?”
I was glad to see she was okay.
[Kako]
