Wednesday, November 3, 2010

it was a long summer's nap

It was a good thing, this break. I was hating having to write, or at least feeling like I had to write. I get no paycheck from this, no salary...I owe it nothing.

I wanted to write about the cats...my lovely, funny boy cats, Franklin and Tucker. I've had a number of cats in my time, but I think these two are my favorite cats ever.

They’re such buddies. They are brothers from the same litter, and we’ve had them for oh, I wanna say about fourteen or fifteen years. They eat together, sleep together, hunt for trouble together, sit and look out the window together, wrestle and fight together, and gang up on the dog together. They’re inseparable.

If one of them happens to get outside, which is rare, or gets shut into a bedroom, the other one will wander from room to room, mew-rowl-ing his sad call, trying to find his missing partner-in-crime.

If another animal picks on Franklin, Tucker will swoop in to the rescue and swackkity-whack-whack the offending one on the head a few times. If the critter is too big for Tucker to reach his head, he’ll bite him on the leg instead. They've got each other's back for all time.

So, I’ve been trying to put the two cats on a diet because they’re so huge. I’m just going to say this right up front: no snarky comments from the peanut gallery about me. I’ve been trying to put me on a diet, too, so just hush.

But I can tell when I’ve missed the evening feeding and the cats are feeling particularly hungry. They come hang around me wherever I happen to be and they’re so relentlessly affectionate to me. Tucker, the black cat, will jump up in my lap and get as close to my face as he can with his cold nose and tickly whiskers. If I ignore him long enough, he will gently bite me on the arm to get my attention. It always makes me laugh. Sometimes I even nudge him away a little with my elbow so he’ll bite me again! It’s so funny!

Well, I can always tell when they are feeling either particularly hungry or particularly tempted by whatever we are having for dinner. They lay around near the table, oh so nonchalantly, until everyone has moved away from the table. And since I’m a little on the lazy unambitious side after I’ve eaten, I don’t always clear the dishes away immediately. Well, Tucker is the bolder of the two when it comes to food, so he will jump right up on the table to see what is left over on the plates. Franklin will hang back and see what happens to Tucker.

We had turkey, gravy and dressing last night, and after dinner, I swear I jumped up from the computer and swatted him with a potholder to get him off the table at least six times. And he was stubborn! Usually he just ducks and jumps down from the table, but last night, he ducked just far enough to be out of reach, and sat there, squinting and leaning away from me as if to say, “Go ahead and swat me, but I’m just going back for more as soon as you’re done.”

There aren’t many things that they will dare anything for, but turkey is one of them. The only other thing I can think that they go that crazy over, strangely enough, is olives. Black olives, green olives, it doesn’t matter. Olive juice? Even better. They will morph into slavering junkies at the very whiff of anything olive.

And should they actually get a taste of them, they sway back and forth in a stupor reminiscent of a heroin high, and then burst into a frenzy of energy, fighting with each other frantically, then racing through the house from one end to the other and back again. Needless to say, I am NOT the person who gives them olives.

When I throw away the empty container of olives, they stalk me to the garbage can. I have to take the bag out and bring it outside. I’m sure the neighbors would think about calling the men in the white coats if they saw me backing out the door, holding the bag high and swinging it wildly to keep it away from them as they leap to try and claw the bag open with their grasping little paws.

Well, to get back to my story, Tucker and Franklin were determined to have some turkey last night. After I had chased the cats away from the table for the sixth time, I thought they had finally gotten the message and I could relax. I was engrossed in my Facebook pursuit again when I heard a “Clunk!”and a rustling sound in the kitchen.

My honey had cleaned up the cooking debris and he threw the turkey scraps into the garbage. I realized that the two cats had tag-teamed and worked together to tip over the garbage can, and now all I could see of them was their butts sticking out of the garbage as they scrounged for the savory little turkey scraps. I couldn’t decide whether to laugh or throw something at them. Little brats.

2 comments:

Nezzy said...

I love just sittin' back and watchin' cats, they are so funny and totally amaze me. They have a world all their own...on their terms only!!! Heeeehehhe

It was so very good to hear from ya again,

God bless and have an amazing day!!!

Becky K. said...

So happy to see your new post. I love it! Our animals have such interesting personalities....
Glad you see the humor!

Funny that they love olives.