August 14th, 2007

krazy koati

Before a cat will condescend to treat you as a trusted friend

This isn't meant to be a humor piece. I think the cats went on strike yesterday.

The cats, typically, were unhappy last weekend when we were gone, and their agitation was not improved by all the packing going on, and they're even less happy that my parents actually left and have been gone for several whole days now. I expected sulking, and at least one of them throwing up her food in some form of ineffective protest.

After I got up yesterday and put out fresh water and food for the cats, and then went to take my shower and take care of various routine chores, I didn't think it abnormal that I didn't see either cat, even the younger one who is fascinated by the concept of water and usually pokes her way into the shower stall after I'm finished. It was after reading the Sunday comics and watching some shows and doing the various other little things that fill up my day that I realized I hadn't actually seen either of them. And from the looks of things neither had eaten anything.

So I went checking their usual spots -- the grey cat rests either on my parents' bed, on the sofa in the sun room, on the back of a reclining chair, or on the kitchen table, depending on the hour of the day -- and she wasn't there. Nor was she in her backup spots in my parents' closet or high in the linen closet. The white cat wasn't anywhere either. I knew I had them both in the house before I went to bed, and the only time the door was open was for me to get the papers, and I was sure they hadn't got out then ... at least I was pretty sure. I searched more, looking under furniture and beds and inside the study that's normally kept closed and found no trace of them anywhere.

I went out for a while, in part because I wanted to do things and in part because I figured if I opened the door around the time my mother usually comes home the cats would get all eager and run up to see me. That didn't work, and I didn't see evidence that they'd eaten after my dinner either. Finally, in the evening, the white cat re-appeared from wherever her work stoppage had taken her and was laying on my bed. Close to midnight, I saw the grey cat come in off the picket lines and eat, which she then threw up where I couldn't miss it. I'd tell them my parents will be back in a week and a half, but would they listen?

Trivia: The last movie Samuel Goldwyn produced in both a silent and a talking version was Raffles, released in 1929. It was based on the 1903 stage play itself based on Ernest William Hornung's 1899 novel The Amateur Cracksman, about a gentleman cricket-playing burglar trying to reform for love's sake. Source: Goldwyn: A Biography, A Scott Berg.

Currently Reading: Rhode Island: A History, William G McLoughlin.