Tuesday Catblogging

Fierce predator Slade:

These cats have been the best decision we’ve ever made. They’re cozy warm nap-buddies who like to snuggle up and watch TV with us and then run off to chase each other up and down the stairs every night at 10:42 p.m. on the dot. Ada is incredibly patient with Kick, who wants to carry her around like a big fuzzy stuffy and spent a solid hour on Sunday trying to “put Ada down for her nap,” as in lay the cat down in her bed and cover her up and read stories to her.

“If she claws your face off, I won’t feel sorry for you,” I told Kick.

“She would NEVER, Mama.”

And she did not, though she did give me a few looks I’ve only seen in hostage videos. She chats away all day long, mewing for snacks or her box to be cleaned or her water to be changed, alerting us to birds and squirrels and dust bunnies, and she loves being brushed, will roll around and slut it up for a grooming session.

Slade is a butthead. He cheerily disobeys my every attempt to keep him off the kitchen counter, out of the sinks, or from hoovering up any dropped food under the dinner table. He’s territorial about his toys and absolutely merciless about taunting the neighbor’s dog. He sits in the window, and when the dog comes over to the fence Slade paws at the glass like, NEENER NEENER NEENER, YOU CAN’T GET ME.

The dog barks and gets disciplined for barking and Slade saunters away all, my work here is done.

They warm up pretty quickly to new people and have that animal instinct for when someone is predisposed to dislike them. My father-in-law visited this past weekend and I noticed Slade making an extra effort to be adorable and score some (reluctant, but granted nonetheless) lap time. Ada positively doted, meowing and kneading and headbutting until an admission was made that the cats “really were very nice.”

The other night Kick woke up screaming from a bad dream and when I asked her what was wrong she said she dreamed that we had to take the cats back to the shelter. Horror. We crept downstairs to pet the sleeping furballs and assure her and them that they were ours for keeps.


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