Kismet with Cats

I am a big bump on a log today. I woke up very very late and then did not get out of bed. I had my first cup of coffee at 1 p.m.  I called a couple of people I used to work with, with whom I'd like to maintain contact assuming my hermit like nature does not take over in 2012 (refer to earlier entry), to wish each the felicitations of the season. 


And I sat in that swivel rocking leather chair of which I have become enormously fond and looked out my living room window. For a long time. After this entry, I think I shall return there. I find I am craving silence, unusual for me, and I have neither radio nor television in the background. I did hear earlier that they caught that human detritus who was setting fires to carports (some 55) in Hollywood and West Hollywood. In honor of the holiday season I shall offer no further opinions of the proper disposition of such who would prey on people as this beast did. It is people like him that make me want to shut out the world, although I know it is contra to God's plan that I have this sensibility.


As I sat looking out my window, my elderly (and inherited) ginger cat, Elwood, appeared on my table and hassock requesting more food.

Elwood

I have been thinking he must have a thyroid problem because he is eating up a storm but not gaining any weight. Without his fur I think he would be skeletel. On the other hand, I have been told that a cat with thyroid problems will eat everything ravenously. He eats SOME things ravenously, but leaves behind pretty much anything that he does not actually fancy. I hesitate to take him to the vet because Lord love those purveyors of animal medicine, they always find twelve things wrong that will cost thousands of dollars when you came in about one. And I have previously subjected an elderly cat to things like IV hydration and it was not pretty, for the cat I was trying to save.  If Elwood isn't obviously suffering I'll do the best I can with him, he being somewhere between 18 and 19 years old.

Truthfully, I have a knack for cats, perhaps more than the people who claim expertise about their ways and their health. I have owned or partially owned some 12 or so cats since I was a child. I inherited whatever this is, "talent" or "vibe" from my mother who owned the first cat I ever saw, a big black mean hisser, that used to guard me in the crib. If someone had said my mother was a "witch" right out of the movie "Bell Book and Candle" I would have believed it. She even seemed a litttle like Kim Novak in her interactions with the movie cat, also a midnight color.

I have too many right now, four, two of which I inherited, and it pleases me that I think I have too many and that I don't want more; othewise you might find me on an episode of Animal Hoarders. I am not rushing poor Elwood, but I look forward to paring it back down to no more than two.

My love for cats does not make me more comfortable with the notion, which many people have about me, with great concomitant amusement, that I am a "cat lady".  I shall protest that I am one of these poor souls, bereft of human affection in favor of feline warmth, but I can hear some of you readers saying, "yeah, right." I offer though my view on the subject.  I do not consider them my children. They are not substitutes for human beings, although there are times I prefer their unagenda'd company.  Mostly all the stuff I have that is cat related, statues, cards, photographs, whatever, was given to me. I enjoy it all now that I have it, but I would not have gone out of my way to buy cat things to go with my actual cats. I do not call myself "mommy", therefore in relation to them.  They pose a bit of a challenge in that several of my friends cannot appear at my apartment without having an asthma attack and I regret that there are far too many to whom I cannot offer my abode's hospitality on that score. But on the other hand,  I am not particularly disturbed about it, in that with or without the cats, far too many people, asthmatic and non-asthmatic alike, who have come to my place have always found it necessary to tell me what changes I ought to make in the furnishings, and my bric a brac, to make it more livable or attractive. If they have not told me directly, they have told some of my friends, who related their disappointment in my arrangements and my taste, including on occasions when they managed to accept my hospitality for vacations. It has been a life long source of interest to me that while I have not suggested to anyone how they should live in their environments, that so many have been able to offer me their unsolicited opinions. My little place is more than enough livable to me as it is with or without cats, thank you all for your offers of redecoration.  Yes, this was a bit of a side bar, but it has been on my mind.

I am just fascinated by animals, but particularly cats, except without the scientific or celebrity cache, like a Jane Goodall. They have masterfully built bodies, with every hair perfectly placed by the Divine Potter (in my view, but then you might think it random, which makes it pretty amazing itself).  With them, what you see is what you get, and that is a relief in a world of unrelenting ambiguity. They know how to live in the moment because they have no sense of past and future. I don't want to abdicate my past or future, but tI would like to be less mired in it, and so their ability is one I'd like to cultivate.

Bleu and Tipper

Today, in a sense, although with a little less ease than I would have liked, I have been a bit like a cat. I have lain about. I have looked about at flower and fauna and birds. I have not sought to accomplish anything, except maybe this entry, which came to me as I was loafing, as I believe I mentioned way up above.


I may not get back to my window now, as with a later afternoon call occupying the balance of daylight, I did not finiish this entry until just moments before five p.m. and the winter dark is descending. Well, I am going to try anyway and sit in the gloaming anyway.


And soon it will be feeding time for the presently sleeping creatures. Magically, (from their point of view) food will appear in their dishes. As for me, I think I might have a glass of zinfandel and sit peacefully awhile.