It’s been a hard week or two full of things I can tell my family and friends but not the world in a blog post. I tell you this not to be obnoxious but to find some balance between what we post on Facebook or in a blog with what our lives are really like.
I am about to post cute cat stories, knowing that it’s not all of what’s in my life. And I know you suspect more happens than cat games (or at least I hope you do). I heard an interesting podcast this week by Hidden Brain about how Facebook makes us sadder because it gets us to constantly compare our lives with the cleaned up versions our friends’ and families’ posts. And then it leads us to create beautiful versions of our own lives that are incomplete to a fault. This Schadenfacebook idea certainly is something to ponder as I turn over my blog and where I want to go with it.
But on to those cat stories. Because cats are all I want to talk about today in a space this public.
The Girl AKA The Gril AKA The Fluff AKA Sissy
The tiniest of the lot, she constantly contends with her two older brothers. If you ever came to visit, you would never see her because strangers ARE danger to her mind. She feels that visitors mean it is a great time to wind her way through the frightening amount of things stuffed under the teenager’s bed and hide herself at the far corner where no one bigger than a mole rat is likely to ever find her.
But don’t be fooled. She is slight and the very image of a delicate one but, in a tight spot, she will bat your nose off. We watched her zip up to the top of her cat post and, at lightening speed, biff her larger brother repeatedly in the noggin to keep her place as queen of the highest spot.
Jack AKA Jaguar
With a face just like Bagheera’s in The Jungle Book, Jack weighs in at 14 pounds. He can’t comfotably sit on my lap but will take up space on the back of the couch. Mostly mild-mannered, he cannot resist reaching out to grab the kid when he races back and forth across the living room to burn of excess energy. Found most often on the little kid’s bed, he will growl if an intruder shows up at the door (especially if it’s my brother-in-law). I have the feeling he would make an excellent guard cat with the right training.
Ash AKA Trouble with a T
This one. This one is the cat that makes you wonder just how smart a cat can get. He is too tough for his own good. If I leap at him to get him to leave the bird alone, he only jump slightly and then will meow at me as if to say, “That all you got?”
If I tell Ash to go wake up the kid, he will, running ahead of me, knowing exactly which kid I am talking about and heading to the right room. (It’s a little scary, honestly.)
Ash plays chase, fetches the ball (but won’t bring it back because that would be undignified), and once refused to leave the shower even after the water started running because, again, he likes to hold his ground. Most of the time we know he is plotting, and I’m certain we only have a bird and squirrel population in the tri-state area because we keep our cats indoors. (You can see why we named him Ash if you look at the photo at the top of this post. His ash-grey deepened into the all black Toothless the Dragon color of today.)
And those are my cat tales. Of course you know they helped me write this entire piece. The Girl purred on my lap with both arms stretch out like SuperGirl. Ash sat perched on the back of the chair behind my head, balanced precariously but making an effort to look comfortable anyway. And Jack lay on a blanket next to the kid on the floor.
They are not the things keeping me awake at night lately–just the things that let me close my eyes and rest. So maybe it’s not so bad that they are my topic today.