Continuing Conversations With a Cat (6)

Never argue with a cat. You can't win.
Never argue with a cat. You can’t win.

I was sitting at my laptop, enjoying some nice old jazz when there came a noise from below me that sounded a bit like someone gargling while yowling in pain. I looked to my feet to see Autumn standing next to me, head back and mouth open emitting such a caterwauling that it nearly drowned out Miles Davis’s trumpet.

“Autumn!” I yelled, trying to be heard over her cries, “What are you doing?”

Smiling up at me she replied, “I’m singing!”

I made a face.

“Well please stop!” I begged. “It’s awful.”

Her face dropped and she stared at me with her big cat eyes.

“You… you don’t like my singing?” she asked, surprised.

Realizing I’d hurt her feelings, I immediately regretted my strong rebuff of her vocal talents.

“I just meant… uh…” I stammered, trying to figure out how to backpedal to a safer place.

“No, no, I get it,” she said, clearly crestfallen.

“I didn’t really mean it was awful,” I said, hoping to mitigate the damage. Cats are sensitive creatures and their egos are easily bruised.

“Of course you did,” she replied, a defiant tone in her voice. “It’s to be expected, I guess, considering the awful stuff you listen to.”

“What awful stuff?” I asked, my own ego chaffing just a bit.

“Really?” she asked, glaring at me accusingly. “All that ‘BLAH BLAH BLAH’ noise you play.” She made her voice sound deep and scratchy on the “BLAH BLAH BLAH”.

“Ok, fine, you don’t like Heavy Metal. But that’s not all I play.”

“Cats are known for their beautiful singing voices,” she sniffed haughtily. “My cousin Freckles used to serenade her neighborhood every night and people would toss gifts to her while she sang, in appreciation for her talent.”

“Um…” I began, ready to explain that folks may not have been throwing things in appreciation, but Autumn cut me off.

“And those pyramid people loved us too. They built shrines to us. I saw a picture of a big stone cat lying near a pyramid. They had the face all wrong though,” she said, shaking her head.

“How do you know the Egyptians liked hearing cats sing?” I asked. “That was thousands of years ago.”

“Were you there?” she snapped back.

“Well no, but then neither were…”

“That’s right. You weren’t. You don’t know.” she snipped.

“Ok, ok, fine. Egyptians loved cat singing,” I yielded.

“Maybe,” she began, “You should just learn to appreciate what good music sounds like.”

She stared up at me, waiting.

“Right,” I said at last with a sigh. “Forgive my ignorance. Please… continue with your singing.”

I forced the last words through gritted teeth.

“Really?” Autumn squealed. “That’s more like it!”

With that she opened her mouth and started to accompany the music with a noise that made me wonder if long term exposure might cause brain damage.

I wondered (and not for the last time) if owning cats was karmic payment for crimes of a former lifetime.

~V

Continuing Conversations With a Cat (5)

Never argue with a cat. You can't win.
Never argue with a cat. You can’t win.

It was time to clean the litter box again. Not my favorite chore, but with three cats it’s a very regular task. I have one of those dome-shaped litter boxes that’s supposed to cut down on the smell and mess. I removed the lid and set it to the side and bent down to begin scooping out the girls “gifts”. Yay.

Autumn loves when I do this. She likes to play inside the lid and pretend it’s her private cat fort. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her dash inside the entrance and poke her little fuzzy face out. I let her have her fun while I finished my cleaning.

When I was done, I walked towards the lid to put it back atop the base. I heard a voice from underneath cry out “Halt! What’s the password?”

Continue reading “Continuing Conversations With a Cat (5)”

Continuing Conversations With a Cat (4)

Never argue with a cat. You can't win.
Never argue with a cat. You can’t win.

“Crash!”

The loud noise startled me and I jumped up from my desk and ran into the living room. Autumn was standing on a shelf and a large picture frame was on the floor.

“Autumn!” I yelled, “why did you knock down that picture?”

“It’s not my fault,” she sniffed. “It was in my way. These things wouldn’t keep falling if you’d stop putting them up here. How do you expect me to walk around when you keep placing obstacles all over?”

Autumn, you aren’t supposed to be walking up there,” I said angrily.

“Of course I’m supposed to walk up here,” she said incredulously. “Why would you place a shelf on the wall if you didn’t want cats to walk on it?”

“The shelf is for holding up objects,” I said, bending down to pick up the fallen picture. Fortunately it was not broken. “The shelf is not for cats to walk on!”

Continue reading “Continuing Conversations With a Cat (4)”

Continuing Conversations With a Cat (3)

Never argue with a cat. You can't win.
Never argue with a cat. You can’t win.

I heard a noise coming from my kitchen. In a small apartment with three cats, I knew this was probably the harbinger of something I really didn’t want to see. None the less, I ventured into the kitchen to investigate. A paper bag was on the floor and I spied a long black tail poking out of it.

“Autumn, what are you doing?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

The tail disappeared and out popped a small black fuzzy head with pointy ears. “What?” she asked.

“I said, what are you doing?”

“I’m playing space cat, of course!” she replied.

“I see,” I said. “And how do you play ‘space cat’?”

Her head turned and she dove back into the bag. I heard her say “Vroom!” as the bag slipped forward on the kitchen floor. I guess that was my answer.

Continue reading “Continuing Conversations With a Cat (3)”

Continuing Conversations With a Cat (2)

Never argue with a cat. You can't win.
Never argue with a cat. You can’t win.

Autumn came running into my office and jumped up on my desk.

“Hey!” I yelled. “Get off the desk.”

“I’m sorry, can’t hear you,” she said looking around. “Speak up.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” I replied. “Now get down.”

“Wha? You’re breaking up. Are you driving next to a mountain? I can’t… huh, what?”

“Oh, you’re hilarious. Seriously, get down,” I said, getting slightly annoyed.

Autumn gingerly danced over my desktop accoutrements and hid behind my laptop screen. All I could see was a long black tail and two black ears poking out from beyond the screen.

Continue reading “Continuing Conversations With a Cat (2)”

Continuing Conversations With a Cat

Never argue with a cat. You can't win.
Never argue with a cat. You can’t win.

Autumn walked into my office.

“Hey!” she said loudly.

“Hey!” she said again.

“Hey, I noticed that there was no wet food in my bowl so… yeah. Maybe you could make that happen?” she asked me.

“There’s no food in your bowl because you don’t get wet food for another four hours,” I replied, not looking away from my laptop. “6 p.m. every night. You know that.”

“So does that mean now?” she asked. “Cats aren’t really good with time.”

I sighed heavily. “So I’ve noticed,” I replied looking down at her. “No, that does not mean now. It means later than now.”

“Why do you always speak in riddles?” she asked, looking annoyed.

Continue reading “Continuing Conversations With a Cat”

Still More Conversations With a Cat

Never argue with a cat. You can't win.
Never argue with a cat. You can’t win.

I was sitting on my sofa watching TV. Autumn came into the living room and jumped onto my lap.

“Oh, well hello there,” I said to her.

“You can start petting me now,” she said with a tone that made it clear this was not a request.

“Is that so?” I asked with a slight smirk on my face. “I’ve been given permission to pet you, huh?”

“Yes, and please follow the instructions this time. First, start by scratching behind my ears and then the top of my head. Follow that by stroking me down my back. Once you get to my tail, scratch me at the base for no more than 30 seconds. You may then stroke my tail. Once that’s done, repeat several times.”

Continue reading “Still More Conversations With a Cat”

Even More Conversations With a Cat

Never argue with a cat. You can't win.
Never argue with a cat. You can’t win.

I needed to go to the grocery store, so I grabbed my socks and shoes and sat down on my sofa. Autumn walked in.

“Yay! It’s playtime!” she yelled and bounded over to me.

“What?” I asked.

She grabbed my left foot and started gently gnawing on it. “You’re covering your feet. That means it’s playtime,” she said happily.

“Ow!” I yanked my foot away from her. “No, it’s not playtime. I’m going out for a bit.”

“Don’t be silly,” she said. “We always play when you cover your feet.”

“No, you always come and attack my feet whenever I try to put my shoes on,” I said, feeling irritated. “There’s a difference.”

“Die!” she yelled as she pounced on my shoe.

Continue reading “Even More Conversations With a Cat”

More Conversations With a Cat

Never argue with a cat. You can't win.
Never argue with a cat. You can’t win.

I was working on my laptop when Autumn walked in. “Why do you sit there staring at that window?” she asked.

“I’m working on some things,” I replied.

“But you’re just sitting there,” she said. “How are you working?”

“I’m writing,” I said, not really wanting to explain.

“Are you staring at birds?” she asked. “I stare at birds out of my window thing. It’s a lot bigger than your window thing. Are you staring at birds?”

Continue reading “More Conversations With a Cat”

Conversations With a Cat

Never argue with a cat. You can't win.
Never argue with a cat. You can’t win.

Autumn came running into my room. She was her usual excited self. “We’re under attack!” she cried frantically. I should expect these kinds of comments from her considering what a vivid imagination she has. Her comprehension of the world is very restricted, which is understandable considering she’s only seen small glimpses of it through the windows of my apartment. Granted, she wandered outside for the first few months of her life before finding me, but she was too young to really process much. Did I mention that Autumn is a cat?

Continue reading “Conversations With a Cat”