More on Cats and Dogs

My apologies for my lack of blogging as of late. I have been completely taken down by my genetic disease, TNF Receptor Associated Periodic Syndrome. I'm back on the up and go, though, and have several observations to chronicle in my ever-quest to gain a greater understanding of the illusive mind of the cat.

One day last week while I actually had a few hours of gusto, I decided that it was time to rearrange the living room. Its layout at the time really didn't work with me energetically, and having pondered potential arrangements filled me with determination to make a serious change the moment I felt well enough to do so.

Enter cats and dogs. Please allow me to take a moment to remind any readers who may have forgotten that I am a die-hard dog fan who diligently studies the three cats who live with us. Rearranging furniture certainly gave me a whole new environment in which to study the mind of felines.

I admit to having a somewhat stubborn streak, liking to do things myself as a matter of pride. Having gone from being a paramedic and member of a search and rescue team to suddenly being incapacitated by a debilitating disease leaves me with “something to prove” – if only to myself. So my daughter was sleeping in, my wife was at work, and I was gung-ho. The cats were sleeping with Dear Daughter and the dogs were excitedly “helping” me move the Goddess hutch and other furniture.

Now, dogs are most enthusiastic little “helpers”. Their eyes are happy, they wag their tails, they pant (and sometimes drool a little bit) all agog about what's happening. The only time they are devastated is when they are excluded. So with great gusto, they rode happily on the sofa, as if it were a giant bob-sled, while I scooted it about. They ran circles around the recliners while I moved them. They boof-ed and barked encouragement to me while I moved the tv, the cat tree… And the whole while, I was so focused, I didn't realize the cats weren't present.

Oh. My. Goodness.

When I let the cats out of Dear Daughter's room, there is no other word for their expression upon entering the living room than… Sacred-Litter-Box-What-the-Heck-Happened-Here?! Yes, I'm aware that's more than one word. You'd have thought someone de-feathered their feather toy. You'd have thought I'd dismembered their catnip balls… Taken the bells out of their jingly toys, put some inferior box-store cat food in their ceramic food bowl… Capri and Mushi came trotting out to the edge of the living room where they suddenly froze – and their tails…. Oh my Goddess, POUF!!! Both cats went into instant “G.I. Joe” mode, shrinking down into a deep army crawl, (or what I now recognize now as slinking-stealth-stalking mode). Generally, cats going into G.I. Joe mode means it's time for me to sit somewhere with my feet up and protected by a blanket. I recognize also that it is a time to enforce the “keep all fingers, hands and arms within the armchair”, lest they become targets of attack. So, as I jumped up onto the sofa, keeping my feet underneath me and resting my head on my knees, all I could think was exactly what the dogs appeared to be expressing themselves… “What the heck is their problem?” (Secondarily, “how am I supposed to go get a glass of water without being sushi for two cuckoo cats?”)

Lancelot made an unwise choice… To investigate the cats. This resulted in a paw swipe across the muzzle, and then blessed Queen of Fire…

Well, anyway… The remainder of the day, the cats were freaked out. Suddenly, they had to be… all the way over there!! And then, it would seem that they would realize – again, rather suddenly – that they really belonged all the way over here!!

Okay, so the dogs and I are wondering what's brought the freak-on out in the cats. So I tried giving them catnip, because I figured it was something like kitty mary-jane – only legal everywhere in the U.S. (and safe for cats). BAD IDEA, because apparently they get far more hyper FIRST – as in, before they mellow. Oh dear.

So here we are with swishy tails, crouched attack positions, kitty rips all around the house (including OVER furniture, under furniture, up the cat tree, back down again)….

WOW. All I can say is I sure am glad they both can see. I'd have hated to see what the freak-out would have been like, moving furniture with cats who couldn't see. Holy cow. Kitties 101. Whew. Who knew??

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