Day 5: All about Halley

Between You, Me and the Lamp Post

Day 5: All about Halley

Yesterday I talked about Greyson a little in ‘Can cats talk’. Today it’s Halley’s turn as she is quite a character too.

Halley is about a year and a half old and right off the bat we knew we were going to have our hands full with her.

As an eight week old kitten, she was super energetic which the older cats Charlotte (16)and Holly (6) didn’t appreciate. That’s why we decided to adopt Greyson, as a playmate and it worked wonders. Charlotte and Holly were left in peace while Halley and Greyson got on like a house on fire.

As Halley grew up she developed some strange habits. She took an interest in computers, was a keen TV watcher, loved to jump in the first at every opportunity, enjoyed the outdoors, and most of all she liked to relax with Greyson.

Now, whenever one of us visits the bathroom, she comes flying out of nowhere to go with us. In the event that she’s out on the balcony and Dieter goes to the bathroom, all he has to do is call ‘Halley, are you coming?’ and she comes racing.

And it’s really weird. Anywhere outside the bathroom, Halley is a rather aloof cat. Doesn’t like to be petted and shrinks away when I reach for her. But in the bathroom, she’s all over me. She purrs, she stands on her hind legs to be petted, when stroked and tickled she can’t get enough, and even lies down in front of the door so I can’t get out. She's a totally different cat in these surroundings.

Unfortunately, she also has an annoying habit … just about every day she wakes us up at some ungodly hour. When she sees first light she jumps  on Dieter’s bed and taps him lightly on the nose. When he ignores her, she does it again and again. When he swats her paw away and turns over for a few more hours of sleep, she jumps off the bed ready for plan B.

She moves to the door, stands on her hind legs, raised her front paws to the door and puts all her bodyweight behind those paws, causing the door to slam shut.

After Dieter has gone out to work she moves to my bedroom and starts her nonsense with me with a few variations.

First she lies down next to me and purrs (loudly) in my ear.

When I turn over she comes and sits on me. With an estimated body weight of about 20 lbs that is nothing to sneeze at.

Still seated on top of me, she taps my nose a few times, followed by a lick and a soft bite. Cute as it may seem, at 6:00 a.m. I’m having none of it and I tell Halley in no uncertain terms to bugger off and let me sleep.

She, in turn, is having none of that. She jumps off the bed, goes to the door and slams it shut as previously described. Before long, she or one of the other cats want to go out and cry for the door to be opened.

Yesterday morning she was at it again and shortly after Halley had slammed the door, Holly wanted to go out. At first I tried to ignore her, but it’s impossible to ignore a crying cat, sooner or later you have to give in. So, I stumbled out of bed, let Holly out and on my way back I hit my shin on the corner of the bed. I’m now sporting a beautiful swollen blue bump on my leg.

Thinking that I was awake and ready to go Charlotte jumped on the bed, followed by Greyson. While Charlotte merely lies down next to me, Greyson trampled all over me in an effort to get to my ears. He likes to give kisses you see, and he kisses like the French … left, right, left.

In the end, I gave up and got up. Right outside the door, Halley was waiting for me, ready to accompany me for my morning shower.

What will the day bring ... who knows, with Halley there's never a dull moment.

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Day 76: A new addition to the family

My Project: 365 Creative Writing Prompts

Day 76: A new addition to the family

Everyone, meet Halley. Halley was adopted from the Toronto Cat Rescue last Friday.

Originally, her name was Ella and while it’s a fine name, I didn’t really take a fancy to it. In my native language (Flemish) Ella is too close to ‘ela’ a term of caution. When a cat, or dog or a child is about to do something naughty, it is warned with ‘Ela’, meaning … don’t do that, I saw that or something to that effect. So, we started thinking of a different name.

I posted Ella’s picture on Facebook and asked members of two cat groups what they would call this kitten. There were a number of suggestions, but none of them were suitable. Some proposed male names, which were not acceptable as Ella is a girl, others came up with nicknames, which I didn’t consider because I prefer a proper name. My other cats are called Charlotte, Gabriel, and Holly, so Ella’s deserved a proper name too.

Someone suggested watching Ella for a few days and the perfect name would become obvious. As it turned out, it did. The perfect name for our little rascal is Halley, named after Halley’s Comet. Just like the famous comet she’s predominantly white, she has a long tail, and she races around the place.

I’m sure that in the weeks and months to come, there will be plenty of updates on Halley, so watch this space and see our little kitten grow up. For now, enjoy these few pictures and video. 

www.connymanero.weebly.com

Cat toys ... think before you buy

All too often people buy things on the spur of the moment. They mean well but later come to the conclusion that this or that wasn't the best choice.

The most classical example is the parent who buys his child a drum set. How many folks have come to regret that decision when those little hands grab the drumsticks and start banging away at all hours of the day.

Pet lovers are no better. They see something Fluffy or Fido might like and they bring it home. Most of the time, those store bought toys are ignored, while something free – like the box the toy came in, a scrunched up tissue or an aluminum foil ball – provide hours of entertainment.

I have made my fair share of booboos too where cat toys are concerned.

Take the undercover mouse for instance. I saw this toy online. It’s basically a yellow plastic sheet with a wire attached underneath. As the wire moves, the cat thinks there’s something underneath the sheet and tries to grab it. I thought this was something my cats would like.

I was right, they did like it, but the undercover mouse drained battery power like crazy. Considering the toy requires four big rectangular batteries, keeping the cats entertained was just too expensive.

My next purchase was a mouse. Mickey, Charlotte and Holly didn’t give it a second look, but Gabriel was interested. So interested in fact, that he attacked the mouse every chance he got. Within 24 hours the new mouse was no more than a ripped up corpse. See for yourself …

       

On to something else.

A few months ago Dieter brought home a ball for the cats. The ball is about five or six inches in diameter and has a small bird inside. When the ball rolls it makes a sound like … tweet-tweet-twit-twit-twit-tweet, tweet-tweet-twit-twit-twit-tweet.

During the day the cats ignore this ball, but at night is a different story. One or several of the cats start to slap the ball around. Not only does it clatter over the floor, the clattering is accompanied by ... tweet-tweet-twit-twit-twit-tweet, tweet-tweet-twit-twit-twit-tweet. This results in me having to get out of bed to take the ball away from them or I wouldn’t get a wink of sleep.

Then again, sometimes we buy something that isn’t meant to be a toy at all, but is used by our pets as such. Take these two runners and rug for instance. They are meant to look like this

     

Gabriel has taken a fancy to these runners and uses them as a surfboard. He runs, at full gallop, either from the living room to the bedroom or from the bedroom to the living room, jumps on the runner and goes sliding.

As a result, these runners and the rug end up like this

I can’t tell you how many times a day I have to put these runners back into place. If I were to get a dollar for each time I straighten them out I could pay a good chunk off my mortgage. Then Gabriel sits there, waiting for the opportunity to mess them up all over again.

As a cat or dog owner, I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.

Where it comes to kid and pet toys ... think before you buy.

www.connymanero.weebly.com

Can cats remember?

For those who ever wondered if cats have a memory, let me assure you … they do.

A couple of days ago I played ball with Holly. I threw the ball, Holly went in hot pursuit, due to the fluff under her feet her brakes failed, she skidded, and slammed into the wall.

Not to worry, short of appearing a little dazed, Holly was fine, but now she doesn’t want to play ball anymore. I’ve tried, a few times, and she looks at the ball with a face that says … you’ve got to be kidding. She might just be traumatised for the rest of her life.

(Continue reading at http://connymanero.weebly.com/blog/can-cats-remember)

Resolutions for 2013

New Year’s Eve is around the corner and if you’re like most people, you have a few resolutions in mind.  Are you planning to lose weight?  Get more exercise?  Be more productive?

I am not planning to lose weight.  The last time I checked I weighed 120 lbs and for my height (5 feet 10 inches) I’m actually underweight.  According to Robinson’s formula I should weigh 145 lbs.  I'm not fanatic about my weight anyway, as long as I fit into my jeans I'm fine.

As for exercising … I’ve tried all sorts of things in days gone by.  I practiced Shotokan karate and achieved the status of black belt, second Dan.  For reasons we won’t get into now, I don’t practice anymore and I doubt I can still execute the moves.

A brief exposure to yoga didn’t go so well.  I could manage the basic stretch exercises, but when attempting the lotus position it looked like I was trying to tie myself into a knot.  I managed to place my right foot onto my left thigh without any problems, but when I tried to twist my left foot onto my right thigh my companion burst into peals of laughter.  First I fell backward, next I rolled sideways, and just when I thought I was headed for success an almighty cramp shot through my left foot.  It was enough to put me off yoga forever.

I tried aerobics and oh boy, that was a complete disaster.  The floor workout went fine, the leg movements posed no problem, but where it came to the arm exercises … they spelled disaster.  Fired up by the rhythmic music I spread my arms a little too enthusiastically and flung lampshade clean off the dresser.  Oh oh … how was I going to explain this?  Blame it on Jane Fonda?

After that, I would have dearly loved to take up fencing or archery, but my family wouldn't allow it. 

So I took an interest in music instead.

The first instrument I learned to play was the Melodica.  

I loved this type of flute.  Unfortunately, Pitoe (our cat) did not.  As soon as I started playing, he left the room.  He didn’t just leave the room though, he went upstairs to one of the bedrooms.  Cat lover as I am I thought I’d save him the trouble and I would go to my room to play.  According to my family this plan didn’t really work.  Even though there was a ceiling between me and Pitoe, he would wake up from his slumber and start meowing toward the ceiling like a dog howling at the moon.  Eventually I retreated to the garden to play, but then the neighbors started complaining.

Fine, I packed away my Melodica and bought an acoustic guitar.  That didn’t last very long.  I wasn’t very good at it, and I was even worse when adjusting the strings.  I had a tendency of giving them too much tension to the point where the snapped.  One moment I would turn the nob and the next … ping, there went a string.  When one of the strings narrowly missed my eye, I knew it was time to try something else.

To cut a long story short … I got into writing.  All things considered, that didn't go too bad.  I wrote three novels and two children's books, but with the arrival of the Internet – and especially Facebook and its many games – I became horribly distracted.

So that’s my resolution for 2013 … more writing, less games.  I’m planning on keeping a journal and to finish a book I’m working on.  I have a title … “Temporarily Yours” and I have five chapters so far.  Let’s see if I can make it to the epilogue before 2014, shall we?

Do I have a mental problem?

I received a comment today, asking if I had a mental problem.  This person was doing research for an essay and had stumbled across my blog.

I briefly considered defending my point of view, but then I thought ... neih, it’s not worth it.  If I say something, he/she is going to say something back, and then I’ll say something back and before you know it a simple comment has turned into a heated argument.  So, I left it alone and moved on.

The comment got me thinking though ... do I have a mental problem?  If I do, there’s a perfectly good explanation for it.

There was a time that I occupied myself with cleaning, cooking and gardening.  In my spare time I wrote a weekly letter home, did some knitting, crocheting, embroidery and beading.

The house was always spotless, something was simmering on the stove and my family and I had plenty of sweaters, scarfs and hats.  Even in the bathroom there was evidence of my creativity ... the spare toilet roll was kitted out in an original jacket.

With the arrival of the computer – and especially the Internet – everything changed.  Suddenly there was a fine layer of dust on the furniture and the windows had lost a bit of their sparkle.  Occasionally we would have take-out and bought sweaters replaced hand knitted ones.

I don’t even know how or when it happened, but suddenly I spend my days writing.  If I don’t write articles, I research articles.  If I don’t surf from website to website, I write emails or answer emails.  In between, I post this, that and the other on Facebook and leave comments on other people’s posts.  Via Facebook I visit blogs and leave comments there too.  Write, write, write, that’s all I do.

Okay, I play a fair amount of games on Facebook too, but that’s beside the point.

When I finally retire and go to bed, I have to share my space with two or three cats.  They curl up or stretch out and I have to adjust my sleeping position accordingly. 

It wouldn’t be so bad if they were quiet sleepers, but they’re not.  Mickey snores, Charlotte sighs and Gabriel makes funny little meow noises. 

In addition, Mickey has a tendency of kicking me when I don’t give him room to stretch, Gabriel swats his fury tail in my face, while Charlotte walks all over me.  She tramples over my chest, pushes her cold wet nose in my ear and says “krrrrrr, krrrrr, krrrrr!”  You try sleeping with that lot.

(Meantime, Dieter sleep with Chanel, a perfectly good and quite kitty cat ... even she too has a tendency to snore.)

Finally we all go to sleep, but only until dawn.  As soon as the sun rises Gabriel awakens and his theory is ... if I’m awake, so should everybody else.  So, he starts meowing.  Not softly mind you, but loud and insistent, and increasing in volume.  In fact, his meowing is like singing an aria from Aida.  Verdi would be proud of him.

After they had their breakfast, the kitty cats go back to sleep and so do I.  Not for long though, their internal clock is finely tuned and sooner or later they decide that it’s time to get up.  So I get up.

If you think I can shower and brush my teeth in peace and quiet, think again.  It doesn’t take long before there’s scratching on the door.  I open the door and Mickey walks in.  He takes a look around and wants to go out.  I open door.  He hears the water being turned on and he wants to come back in.  I open the door.  The bathroom is too hot for him and he wants to go back out.  I open the door.

There’s more scratching at the door.  I open the door.  Charlotte walks in.  She wants a drink at the sink.  She too decides that the bathroom is too hot and wants to go out.  I open the door.  Jeez Louise, these cats need a concierge.

For the remainder of the day I have peace and quiet.  The evening though brings a flurry of activity.  While I try to concentrate on writing, the cats play games.  Games that increase in roughness as time goes by.  Occasionally I have to yell “Guys!  Calm down!”

For a few minutes they behave themselves until the madness starts all over again.  They’re favorite game being racing, NASCAR style.  They sprint from room to room, jump on chairs, fly over tables, only to go sprinting from room to room again. 

I yell again for them to calm down when there’s a loud crash ... that was my favorite lamp.  (I can’t tell you how many pieces have bitten the dust at the hands/paws of my fury kids.

Writing and cats ... not a good combination.  Is it any wonder that I have a mental problem?

Wednesday night ... bowling night

Sometimes I surprise myself.
After a hard day at work (it’s month end) I didn’t look forward to tonight’s league bowling, I was convinced I was gonna bowl crap, crap and more crap.

I mean, I was rushed off my feet and everything that could go wrong went wrong.
For starters my computer froze and I was without a particular software for three hours. Under normal circumstances this would have been a inconvenience, but at month end lack of software is near disastrous. So that was three hours lost.

When I finally could work again I encountered one problem after another. When I left work at 4:30 there was still a lot to do and tomorrow more is coming in. It’s gonna take a small miracle to finish everything.

By the time I got home I was pooped. I would have loved to put my feet up and not think about anything anymore, but that was not to be. This being Wednesday, it’s league bowling day.

The walk to the bowling alley was refreshing. It wasn’t cold, it wasn’t warm, the temperature was just right. And some fresh air and exercise was apparently just what I needed.

My first game was a 204, my second 179 and my third .. well, let’s not talk about that one. All in all I did better than expected.