Cats Dwell Above

Cat

Another fun haiku

both cats dwell above
my comfort zone — both
recliners occupied

When I sat down at the computer this morning, I took the folding chair left there from last night —  when Pookie had been occupying my comfortable office chair and I didn’t push him off. This morning as I started typing Pookie came along and looked up at me, then jumped into the unoccupied office chair. Finders keepers and all that.

When I got up and got myself a coffee fifteen minutes later, Pookie wandered out to the kitchen. I got back to the office in time to see Angus jump up and settle comfortably into the chair Pookie had vacated. (Vacatted ?) Point for Angus; 0 for me. Many times Bob and I come into the office and find Angus in one chair and Pookie in the other.

Cats have that sense of entitlement built into their nature; they may claim you as their people, but they make it clear who comes above and who comes below in the grand scheme of things. Whose comfort is of greater importance, whose not so much.

Yes, a house cat will want to be nearby — if they feel like it, or if something interesting might be transpiring. So when I’m in the living room, now able to occupy the recliner our (now deceased) Panda once claimed, Angus snuggles down in the other recliner and Pookie gets the sofa. Or vice versa. But while Panda lived here she definitely staked her claim on the most comfortable recliner and would not be ousted.

Okay, I’ll admit it. We let our cats call the shots. They are, after all, quite affectionate when they have a mind to be. Just so long as we remember who gets first crack at the comfy chairs.

Written in response to Fandango’s prompt: BELOW
and for “International Day of the Cat”

Memory of a Bird Rescue

I see that today’s RAGTAG Community prompt word is MEMORIES.
Opened my DropBox file and checked how many memories I’ve stored. Since I started my new system where every file is neatly categorized, I can take a quick check of the files starting with Mem–.

I counted 120 of them. So I can ace this prompt. 🙂

I suppose the idea is to write a fresh one, but I’ll cheat and pull one out of storage, a tale not posted for a long time. Hope you enjoy it.

Out of the Lion’s Mouth…

One balmy spring day I was visiting with my next-door neighbour, Marilyn. She has a lovely, flower-filled yard and we were walking on the lawn checking out the perennials around her house.

Several times we took note of a small bird hopping around on the ground not far from us. The tiny bird looked similar to a chickadee in coloring, yet we could see it was not a chickadee. Marilyn and I remarked about how tame it seemed to be, hopping around only a few yards from our feet.

Then we went across her back lawn to check out a new flowerbed she’d made in the middle of the lawn. Before long we saw the little bird again, not far away from our feet. Her three barn cats had also wandered over to hang around with the ladies, maybe hoping a bit of nibbles — or a least a bit of friendly petting — might come from some kindly hand.

Suddenly her buff-colored cat jumped up and dashed over to the little bird and grabbed it in his mouth. I hurried over to inspect the situation: the poor bird’s head was in the cat’s mouth and its wings were flapping frantically trying to escape.

If the cat had injured the bird—like damaged a wing so it couldn’t fly— I would have left well enough alone. But the bird’s wings were obviously fine. And the cat was in a dilemma, too: as soon as he opened his mouth to deal with the bird, it would make good its escape.

You will know what a soft heart I have. I said, “Enough of this! We can’t have slaughter going on right before our eyes.” So I bent over the cat, grabbed its head, and pried its jaws apart. The bird, now released, flew to a nearby shrub and then off into the trees. A wiser bird for his close call.

The cat looked bewildered. Like, What just happened here? Where’s my lunch? Marilyn laughed and said, “He’s never had anyone do that to him before. I think you’ve offended him.”

“Well, too bad. I couldn’t bear to watch the slaughter,” I told her.

Later after a few minutes’ thought. I asked her, “Do you think God has to do that for us sometimes, too? We get ourselves hopelessly ensnared in some vice and He actually has to pry open the devil’s claws in order to set us free?”

And she answered, “Maybe He does.” It does seem that some folks are amazingly rescued from the most dangerous situations or pulled out of violent lifestyles.

When I got home I looked up that little bird in our bird book, and learned that it had the simple, descriptive name: “black and white warbler.” It’s a migratory bird here; we see them only passing through to the North country. I sure wonder why that one was so brave (or foolish) as to hang around our feet? And I’m glad that her cat didn’t win that battle.

Share Your World

There are a number of writing challenges and prompts in the blogging world, among them is Cee’s Share Your World, which she posts once a week. She posts a number of questions, some on the humorous side, supposedly to share some of our likes and dislikes with our readers.

Anyway, here’s her list of questions for this week and my responses:

You can have an unlimited supply of one thing for the rest of your life, what is it? Sushi? Scotch Tape?

Thinking along immaterial lines, I’d say “FRIENDS.” But in terms of actual things, my practical answer may contradict that noble aspiration. Just leave me in the Library — preferably with pens and stacks of notebooks, since you’re never supposed to scribble in library books.

Books

Pixabay

Teleportation or flying?

Teleportation is a sci-fi thing, where all your cells turn to — energy? — and are flung off to some other place or planet. Then you materialize again. Being fearful of the unknown, I’d worry that during teleportation my cells might get swirled around and I’d come together again with two arms on one side, or lose a foot in transit, or all my hair? Not a risk I’d ever take.

Besides, I love flying. One time, as the plane was taxiing down the runway full throttle  and the roar of the engines thrilled our ears, I turned to the fellow in a business suit sitting next to me and said, “Don’t you just love flying!” 🙂

He replied in a crisp British accent, “Personally, I find it nerve-wracking.” 😦
Oh well. Can’t please everybody.

Would you rather live where it only snows or the temperature never falls below 100 degrees?

winter street

Pixabay

I can’t take the heat…but to live where it only snows? To never have spring…never any nesting birds or flowers? Could I bear it?
In either case I’d be staying indoors, so my choice would be looking out at sand dunes or snowbanks. Hmm…

What did you appreciate or what made you smile this past week? Feel free to use a quote, a photo, a story, or even a combination.

Our private school put on a program of songs and skits Wednesday evening for the end of the school year. Lots of smiles and chuckles. Of course the highlight was watching our three grandchildren up on the stage doing their parts. The oldest is out of school already. Why do those school years fly by so fast?

Cat sleeping

Pixabay

We have two cats that both think my desk chair is the most comfortable and best-located seat in the house. I’ve evicted one or the other of them a dozen times this week, but all I need to do is go pour myself a coffee and when I get back…
(This gives my husband more smiles that it gives me. 😉 )

Low Pressure System

Sunday morning
low pressure system
only one eye open

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As least that’s how it felt this morning. 🙂

Except that our cat Pookie is part Energizer Bunny and part rooster, eager to be up and at’em as soon as the dawn expands into morning light — about 5:30 am these days. He never bothers dear hubby; I’m the one who should get up and give him his morning treat, then let him outside for a romp. If we’ve forgotten to shut the bedroom door he jumps on the bed and starts prodding me until I get up and humor him — or shut him out of the room.

I’m light-sensitive, too, and can’t sleep when it’s full daylight. Early morning’s a good time for blogging, so I’ll post this verse that dawned on me first thing this morning.

By now I have hundreds of haiku verses and plan to start posting again on Tree Top Haiku. I’m doing some setting up and have scheduled the first ones to appear May 1st.

Nature Makes Cats Too Smart

It’s time for another round of Friday Fictioneers, the delightful group hosted by our devoted and tactful host, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. If you’d like to join in the fun, check out her blog and click the blue frog to add your own 100 words to the melee.

The picture today was donated by Dale Rogerson expressly for today’s prompt. The copyright belongs to her and you need her permission to borrow it. No doubt there’ll be many different tales spun out of this photo; I myself came up with two. I’ll go with my first idea, revised and hopefully clarified.

So, gentle readers, here’s another dose of Winnie’s wry wit and wisdom.

From their hotel window Winnie observed the commotion below. “It’s that irritating cat again. Up in that tree, smug as can be. Third time this week.”

Raylene and Winnie watched the crowd milling around. The owner wrung her hands; someone shouted orders; someone fetched a ladder. Perched on his branch Sir Whiskers blinked superciliously.

Winnie rolled her eyes. “Imagine bringing your cat on a holiday!”

“And it loves to lead a merry chase. Sir Whiskers seems to relish having everyone scrambling after him.” Raylene shook her head. “Nature shouldn’t make cats that smart.”

“Or people that dense.”

Panda and Her Sunbeam

True Love

A lone sunbeam darts
away from his fellows, sneaks
up the morning side of a house,
squeezes under the kitchen blind,
spreads himself on the floor and waits
for her, the cat with thick black
fur. She always finds him,
settles herself in his warmth and purrs,
blissful as he caresses her darkness-
until the sunbeam is dragged
back to join his fellows
rising higher in the sky.
Tomorrow, Love.

I Didn’t Do It!

One day a little girl, just half–past three, snipping paper with a pair of child’s scissors, looked around and…

An hour or so later the girl was together with her mother, who was visiting with a friend, when one of the kittens wandered into the room. The girl’s mother caught sight of it and…

The innocent kitten wove itself around their legs, not realizing how odd it looked with the fur down its back raggedly trimmed, as if by an unskilled hand using rather dull scissors.

“What happened to this kitten! How did its fur get cut like that?” Mom asked, giving her daughter a suspicious glance.

“I don’t know. I didn’t do it.”

“Are you sure? It looks like someone might have snipped off its fur with a pair of small scissors.”

The little girl thought for a moment. “Maybe the mommy cat did it.”

The visitor looked away quickly and grinned. The mother tried to maintain a stern frown.

After the company left, the lecture of the day was, “If you’ve done something wrong, admit it.”

Word Press daily prompt: Denial

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Mr Nobody
by Walter de la Mare

I know a funny little man,
As quiet as a mouse,
Who does the mischief that is done
In everybody’s house.
There’s no one ever sees his face,
And yet we all agree
That every plate we break was cracked
by Mr. Nobody.

‘Tis he who always tears our books,
who leaves our doors ajar;
he pulls the buttons from our shirts,
and scatters pins afar,
that squeaking door will always squeak,
because of this you see:
we leave the oiling to be done
by Mr Nobody.

He puts damp wood upon the fire,
So kettles cannot boil;
His are the feet that bring in mud
And all the carpets soil.
The papers always are mislaid;
who had them last but he?
There’s no one tosses them about
but Mr. Nobody.