Sunday, October 13, 2013 – Premium Cat
I love Miss Kitty
I don’t mean the red-haired saloon proprietress - Miss Kitty Russell - on the television western Gunsmoke. (Though I think this Madam is wonderful too.)
I mean our friends’ cat. L & B don’t go away often, but when they do, I claim Miss Kitty as mine, all mine. Miss Kitty has very high standards. She is an only cat with devoted “parents.” She has special kibble food - a blend of salmon, whole brown rice, whole cranberries, dried tomatoes, dried spinach, and salt. If I added hot water to a bowl of this, my hubs would gladly trade in his morning oatmeal and flax for it.
She has her own yoga mat and house full of toys. She has a specially designed litter-box – L made it – so that Miss Kitty gets privacy, and there’s virtually no order. Miss K. has special make up remover pads so that her face doesn’t get discoloured from eye junk. Since I’ve always been a multi-cat owner, I just love that Miss Kitty has “strong preferences,” and I’m not necessarily one of them.
*****
When she’s “mine, all mine!” – I make a point of making lots of noise before I let myself in. I believe in fair warning. I sing out “Miss Kitty…” repeatedly, and she immediately curls up in a ball and hides her eyes. There’s a reason for this. My first task is to wipe Kitty’s eyes. While she is a calico, she is mostly white, and the fur under her eyes stains very easily. Not on my watch! So I pounce on her and “get her done” right away. That accomplished, it’s time to brush her while singing to the music on the radio.
One of my favourite episodes was when “Blurred Lines” was playing and I whooped when I brushed her, along with the song. I might be imagining this, but I think Miss Kitty shot her tail at me when I sang to her, “You’re the hottest kit in this place!” She initially objected to having her tummy brushed, but she’s chubby enough that trying to right herself is just too much effort. Best to wait until the crazy lady is done. (Miss K is a rather large kitty and needs to spend a little more time on her yoga mat and a little less at her food dish, but don’t tell her I said that.)
Then and only then do I approach the food dish, which is always empty. Actually, I refresh the water first, just to build up the anticipation – and then, FOOD TIME!!! I cut back her food rations just a little – without her owners being home, she would naturally get a little less exercise. No matter, she figured out how to pry open the lid of her cat food bin.
Next, cleaning the litter box. I won’t go into details here – but it’s pretty straightforward, and it’s ingenious. The closest I could find to it on the web is here. http://www.examiner.com/article/how-to-make-a-cat-litter-box-using-a-tupperware-container Absolutely brilliant!
As I’m leaving, I say good-bye to Miss Kitty but she is face-first into her food dish, relieved that her ordeal is over.
*****
Laurence and I are currently “uncatted.” We had a massive “die-off” of very old cats that we had inherited over the years. Then our three remaining younger cats showed a definite preference for living with a friend of ours on her hobby farm in Wanup (a story in itself.) And I am not letting myself adopt a cat or eight until our traveling days are over.
Occasionally I will get to cat-sit – for example, when son Tom and daughter-in-law Julie move to Canada and are apartment hunting. Hubs and I get to care for their black and white feline, Charlie. But I have to remember that cats like Charlie and Miss Kitty are “premium” cats. Whereas our cats played balcony-railing tag (and occasionally fell a couple of flights) – these cats ought to have a certain level of supervision.
Tom and B (of L & B) have been friends for close to 15 years. I can at least offer the level of supervision to their cats that I tried to give them. What is it Frank McCourt wrote as the introduction to his first book? “When I look back on my childhood I wonder how I survived at all.”
I don’t mean the red-haired saloon proprietress - Miss Kitty Russell - on the television western Gunsmoke. (Though I think this Madam is wonderful too.)
I mean our friends’ cat. L & B don’t go away often, but when they do, I claim Miss Kitty as mine, all mine. Miss Kitty has very high standards. She is an only cat with devoted “parents.” She has special kibble food - a blend of salmon, whole brown rice, whole cranberries, dried tomatoes, dried spinach, and salt. If I added hot water to a bowl of this, my hubs would gladly trade in his morning oatmeal and flax for it.
She has her own yoga mat and house full of toys. She has a specially designed litter-box – L made it – so that Miss Kitty gets privacy, and there’s virtually no order. Miss K. has special make up remover pads so that her face doesn’t get discoloured from eye junk. Since I’ve always been a multi-cat owner, I just love that Miss Kitty has “strong preferences,” and I’m not necessarily one of them.
*****
When she’s “mine, all mine!” – I make a point of making lots of noise before I let myself in. I believe in fair warning. I sing out “Miss Kitty…” repeatedly, and she immediately curls up in a ball and hides her eyes. There’s a reason for this. My first task is to wipe Kitty’s eyes. While she is a calico, she is mostly white, and the fur under her eyes stains very easily. Not on my watch! So I pounce on her and “get her done” right away. That accomplished, it’s time to brush her while singing to the music on the radio.
One of my favourite episodes was when “Blurred Lines” was playing and I whooped when I brushed her, along with the song. I might be imagining this, but I think Miss Kitty shot her tail at me when I sang to her, “You’re the hottest kit in this place!” She initially objected to having her tummy brushed, but she’s chubby enough that trying to right herself is just too much effort. Best to wait until the crazy lady is done. (Miss K is a rather large kitty and needs to spend a little more time on her yoga mat and a little less at her food dish, but don’t tell her I said that.)
Then and only then do I approach the food dish, which is always empty. Actually, I refresh the water first, just to build up the anticipation – and then, FOOD TIME!!! I cut back her food rations just a little – without her owners being home, she would naturally get a little less exercise. No matter, she figured out how to pry open the lid of her cat food bin.
Next, cleaning the litter box. I won’t go into details here – but it’s pretty straightforward, and it’s ingenious. The closest I could find to it on the web is here. http://www.examiner.com/article/how-to-make-a-cat-litter-box-using-a-tupperware-container Absolutely brilliant!
As I’m leaving, I say good-bye to Miss Kitty but she is face-first into her food dish, relieved that her ordeal is over.
*****
Laurence and I are currently “uncatted.” We had a massive “die-off” of very old cats that we had inherited over the years. Then our three remaining younger cats showed a definite preference for living with a friend of ours on her hobby farm in Wanup (a story in itself.) And I am not letting myself adopt a cat or eight until our traveling days are over.
Occasionally I will get to cat-sit – for example, when son Tom and daughter-in-law Julie move to Canada and are apartment hunting. Hubs and I get to care for their black and white feline, Charlie. But I have to remember that cats like Charlie and Miss Kitty are “premium” cats. Whereas our cats played balcony-railing tag (and occasionally fell a couple of flights) – these cats ought to have a certain level of supervision.
Tom and B (of L & B) have been friends for close to 15 years. I can at least offer the level of supervision to their cats that I tried to give them. What is it Frank McCourt wrote as the introduction to his first book? “When I look back on my childhood I wonder how I survived at all.”