Every family has one, I suppose, a loved one who has claimed a certain part of the house for his own.
I, for instance, seem to have claimed the kitchen. If I’m not hunched and giggling over a laptop somewhere, that's where you’ll find me, up to my elbows in dirty dishes.
You’d think they’d make a machine for that sort of thing, wouldn’t you?
And then there’s my son, with the benefits of three-quarters of a college education, a second-shift job, and weekend drumming gigs, who is somehow never seen entering his bedroom but only emerging.
Squinty-eyed and blinking against the filtered light of the living room, I fear he’s become nocturnal.
And that brings us to Dolly “Gee” Squeakers – AKA Dali G, AKA Squeak Monger, AKA No, Kitty, No!. A badger-shaped long-haired Siamese cross of the mewing persuasion, Dolly Gee Squeakers, formerly of the Humane Society Squeakers, is a cat of simple pleasures.
Relentlessly teased as a kitten for her lisp, Dolly is an easy-going puss, an animal with few desires aside from the odd bit of dangled string and a need to accompany you to the bathroom.
Three a.m. Quick run to the bathroom, is that it? No need to go alone! Dolly insists that she join you. She mumbles queries whilst doing so, and I am nightly reminded of Columbo, the TV detective of my childhood, with his nonchalant, seemingly pointless questions. Whatcha doin’? Goin’ to the bathroom, huh? Why? Goin’ back to bed right after? Hey, what thay you and I thtay up, huh, talk about what’th goin’ on in yer life?
Once inside the bathroom, Dolly Gee throws herself at your feet, purring loudly, every fiber of her fuzzy little body radiating goodwill. It’s special, this bathroom time with you; and if you’re silly enough to turn the light on at that time of morning, you will see her vividly blue and ever-so-slightly crossed eyes looking up with all the love she can muster.
It never fails, this mid-night trip and its feline accompaniment. She escorts me to the bathroom, mutters various questions at me, then runs out only to throw herself on the living room floor, demanding one more “pet” before I go back to bed.
Dolly “Gee” Squeakers, Bathroom Kitteh.
We all have our purpose, don’t we?
And sometimes that purpose is bathroom attendee.
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31 comments:
Loved this! Love Dolly G!
I think your kitten and my children are related.
My son is remarkably like your son. I never see him, but there are reported sightings by others. I suppose the black cape he wears doesn't
mean anything is amiss does it?
What a sweet kitty. Not so dangerous as Liza B. B. but still, take care. She is mapping your habits.
We've had several cats who love the bathroom, too, and in fact that is the only place they are civil. Hmmm... wonder what's going through their complicated little feline brains about that?
How fortunate you are to have a son who emerges. Many complain theirs never do.
I demand privacy in the bathroom - it's the only place I can be alone!!
I'd rather have a cat follow me to the bathroom than Columbo.
My favorite bit about the bathroom kitty is when she watches me take a bath. Have you ever been in a bathtub when the cat slips and falls in? It'll test your reflexes, and that's for sure!
Pearl - I have the scars from the last time my wee kitty slipped in the bath, although I think he was pushed by the dog and was covering for him
Hahha! I resemble this post.
you know if your son and cat hooked up they could be nocturnal together.
This thoroughly entertained me. And regarding the bathroom kitty... we have dachshunds that often hop join in the walk-in shower. A bit off-putting to house guests!
Wait, do we have to tip Dolly? Only if she hands us a towel or offers gum?
I can never keep the new etiquette straight.
A.
Loved the post, Pearl! It's so true! I have three Human Society cats, including a blue-eyed, slightly cross-eyed Siamese mix SweetPea who loves to follow me into the bathroom in the middle of the night. If I forget and close the door, she slides her white paws underneath and trills happily. My Bombay cat, Maggie, is also usually up for bathroom duty, sometimes sighing deeply as she leaves her sleeping place at my feet to follow me. Gus, my elderly red tabby, doesn't do bathrooms anymore. He's retired from the mundane tasks of being a beloved rescue cat and simply avails himself of the good stuff - like tummy rubs and cuddling. My next door neighbor says the ONLY time her cat is nice to her is when she's in the bathroom. What's up with that anyway?
THAT is the cutest thing I have ever heard. I love when cats are all amorous and sweet and purry. Although often it's one short step between that and grabbing your entire arm in a sharp, pointy, clawy grip! :)
As you know, I had 3 cats. Well, I didn't actually "have" them, they more or less put up with me. You see, I have opposable thumbs and can, therefore, open cans of cat food and tuna (preferably the latter, they'd remind me). Anyway, yes, two of the three would like to watch as someone bathes and would also test the surface of the water to see if it was possible to walk on. Strangely, it never was. None ever slipped and fell into the bath. One would ignore trips to the potty by us mere humans, one would avoid the bathroom entirely (a traumatic experience in her kittenhood where she had to have iodine baths) and one would demand entry if the door was closed.
I remember this post! It was one of those posts that caused me to adore you right from the get-go, Pearl. With you it's a cat, with me it's a German Shepherd, but they just adore those (fairly) quiet bathroom moments of intimacy, don't they? :-D
So familiar. Jewel follows me, and climbs into my knickers purring loudly if not forcibly dissuaded. Jazz stays outside, sliding his loooong black paws under the door.
Between kids and cats I barely remember what it's like to go to the bathroom solo. The difference between them is that the kids learned to stay out but the cats never will. And all they want to do is be naughty and drink from the tap, open the shower doors and shred the TP. If you manage to shut them out they cry loudly and pitifully and claw furrows into the door frame. They're lucky they're so cute.
Just don't let this wonderful blog become second fiddle to a clarinet.
One of my cats loved to join me in the tub. He would climb onto my belly and hang around for a while. Thank goodness my gut was large enough to accommodate Wilbur...
My sister had two dogs and two cats who would sit outside the bathroom door whenever she went in there. It is nice for you to have a bathroom companion.
Hey Pearl! I once had a dog who took great delight in standing right behind me. Step back, trip, pratfall. Combine that with a 3am jaunt to the bathroom (and possibly Peter Falk) and there has to be a murder waiting to happen. Probably mine. Indigo x
Our Nemesis does the same thing, but instead up rubbing against our legs she sits down and *studies* us as we're...a'hem, preoccupied. It's eerie. I'm not sure what's going on in the cat brain, but it creeps me out. I'm positive this behavior has something to do with her "master plan".
Well, I'm back and just in time as this made me laugh. I too was the college kid that lived with my parents and was only ever seen LEAVING my room. Strange how 21 year olds have that superpower.
everyone needa a bathroom buddy at that time of night. fact
Pearl, I, too, have a bathroom attendant. Her name is Suzie, Black Dog of Mass Destruction. In fact, the only time she is still is when she attends to me en el bano, begging for a pat. They know we're a captive audience, when we're there on the can.
Lucy, a friends' cat, loves to escort guests to the bathroom. I think it's because we are, there, a captive audience. At least for awhile!
I've never owned a house cat, but I think I'd be rather unnerved about one that insisted on being a bathroom assistant.
I feel I'm missing out on life with my lonely perambulations in the early hours. Would she like a trip abroad?
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