The holidays are nearly concluded. The chaos of Christmas is passed; a low-key New Year’s eve approaches. While I’m recovering from the interruption of my usual routines, allow me write about my cat.
Now, before I get started, remember that I’ve been blogging for a while. International law requires that I include something cat-related no later than post 300. I’m simply ensuring that the milestone doesn’t pass, tragically, without the inclusion of some lovable feline antics.
What’s in a name: nothing
Our cat’s name is Lexi, but that knowledge is strictly academic. Humans name most humans because it’s easier to get the attention of someone by their name than to point and say “hey, you.” This breaks down with most animals. By then, names are just to easily make distinctions when talking about them.
As a general rule, cats don’t roll over or come when you call them. Most don’t even hunt anymore. They have long since been repurposed for cuteness. Even in their Egyptian, vermin-hunting heyday, burly Calicoes were rarely seen in the company of hunters. But, every cat comes with an exception. Our cat plays fetch.
I’ve been seated at the computer and engrossed in a game, only to hear the telltale meow. I’ll look down, and see a fluffy pink ball. I then reach down, grab the ball, lean out into the hallway, and throw it. The cat speeds after it, playing with its prey after it sinks its declawed paws into it. I return to the keyboard, only to be interrupted again.
This goes on maybe six or seven times, if you do it right. Perfecting the proper throwing motion is key. You can’t lob something slowly and expect any of her interest. You have to adjust the trajectory. And it’s gotta have the right kick. Lexi is very particular about throwing technique. It is one of the few reasons we were put on this planet.
The reason we exist
Obligatory picture of our cat.
She talks quite a lot. Sometimes, she wants food. Most of the time, though, you can superimpose a phrase on top of her persistent meows: Pay attention to me!
Furthermore: don’t look at glowing box; pay attention to me! Don’t hold me in your lap. Pet me, but be careful about it. Don’t do it too hard. Don’t trap me, but pay attention to me! Don’t sleep. You sleep for many hours. Pay attention to me, instead!
Our door is always open to her, so she can come and go as she likes. Even so, for most of the last week, she has been shaking our closed bathroom door because it’s the perfect way to get our attention. :rattle: :rattle: :rattle: Trust me; there’s nothing in there. What she wants is in bed. It’s us. How dare we sleep at 4AM on a Wednesday morning.
:rattle: :rattle: :rattle: Get up! Here’s the ball. Throw it. Pay attention to me!
