I woke up early Tuesday morning only to find Dolly Gee Squeakers (formerly of the Humane Society Squeakers) already up and sitting at the little breakfast table, a cup of coffee in front of her, a lit cigarette’s smoke being coaxed out a window, Patsy Cline playing softly in the background.
That cat knows how I feel about her smoking in the house.
Dolly and I have an odd relationship: I feed her small, flavored treats so that I can laugh while she stands on her back legs and she, in return, hoicks hairballs into my boots.
I’m not sure it’s an evenly sided relationship, but so few are these days.
Have you met Dolly Gee Squeakers (formerly of the Humane Society Squeakers)? Dolly is a rather stunning long-haired Siamese mixture, a sparsely-toothed puddy tat with a penchant for lying flat on her back, limbs akimbo, looking, for all the world, like a warm and suspiciously unseaworthy canoe.
It’s a strange moment, catching your cat unawares. One delicate claw stirring the heavily creamed coffee, her brilliantly blue (and sometimes crossed) eyes staring off in the distance, I walked in as she was singing.
“I go out walking, after midnight…”
Well, except she wasn’t so much singing along as she was meow-meowing along. “Meow-meow mi-meow meow, meow-meow meow meow…” You’d probably have to be there, but really it’s quite disconcerting, catching a cat singing.
She stopped as I entered the kitchen, shifted the gaze that had been out the window to concentrate on the want ad section of the newspaper spread out before her.
“Mornin’,” I said.
Dolly raised her cup and nodded. She knows how I feel about early morning chatter, not to mention the fact that her lisp makes her self-conscious.
“Looking for a job?” I asked.
“Mmmmm,” she said.
“I’ll catch you later then,” I said. I was all the way to the front door before I heard what could only be a cat clearing her throat. At the bottom of the steps, I turned around and looked up.
Dolly was holding my lunch. “Meow meow meow,” she said, which I can only interpret at “You forgot your lunch”.
She tossed it down to me.
“Thanks,” I said.
“Don’t menthun it,” she said.
That cat knows how I feel about her smoking in the house.
Dolly and I have an odd relationship: I feed her small, flavored treats so that I can laugh while she stands on her back legs and she, in return, hoicks hairballs into my boots.
I’m not sure it’s an evenly sided relationship, but so few are these days.
Have you met Dolly Gee Squeakers (formerly of the Humane Society Squeakers)? Dolly is a rather stunning long-haired Siamese mixture, a sparsely-toothed puddy tat with a penchant for lying flat on her back, limbs akimbo, looking, for all the world, like a warm and suspiciously unseaworthy canoe.
It’s a strange moment, catching your cat unawares. One delicate claw stirring the heavily creamed coffee, her brilliantly blue (and sometimes crossed) eyes staring off in the distance, I walked in as she was singing.
“I go out walking, after midnight…”
Well, except she wasn’t so much singing along as she was meow-meowing along. “Meow-meow mi-meow meow, meow-meow meow meow…” You’d probably have to be there, but really it’s quite disconcerting, catching a cat singing.
She stopped as I entered the kitchen, shifted the gaze that had been out the window to concentrate on the want ad section of the newspaper spread out before her.
“Mornin’,” I said.
Dolly raised her cup and nodded. She knows how I feel about early morning chatter, not to mention the fact that her lisp makes her self-conscious.
“Looking for a job?” I asked.
“Mmmmm,” she said.
“I’ll catch you later then,” I said. I was all the way to the front door before I heard what could only be a cat clearing her throat. At the bottom of the steps, I turned around and looked up.
Dolly was holding my lunch. “Meow meow meow,” she said, which I can only interpret at “You forgot your lunch”.
She tossed it down to me.
“Thanks,” I said.
“Don’t menthun it,” she said.
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21 comments:
When a cat does something for you without being asked there is trouble afoot.
THondth like a really thweet puthy cat
I love the image of her idly stirring her heavily creamed coffee with a needle-like claw.
You make me smile.
Mmmmm, Patsy and coffee, cat knows how to start a day .
As a cat person, this really made me laugh :)
I think the last meow could be translated as "Tip?"
I absolutely adore your kitties!!
Bless her! The young badgers packed me a sandwich one morning. Very sweet of them, tho they over-estimated my fondness for vermicular fillings. Still, I didn't go hungry. Roth x
Had you actually packed a lunch? Dolly isn't that sweet.
One hopes she did not hoick a hairball into that lunch bag :)
There's only one thing to say about the morning's suspicious activities:
UH OH!
I would (perhasp foolishly) feel more comfortable with a lunch box that Dolly Gee packed than one packed by Liza Bean.
You have the coolest roomies!
Rosemary
How sweet of Dolly to make sure you had your lunch. Did she find anything in the want ads?
You may not know it but cats often have parties when we go out. It is true. I read it in a book once called Wednesday is Spaghetti Day. Your cat was trying to force you out the door because she was having her friends over. I think Saturday may be Fish & Chip's day (which would explain the newspaper). I once caught a clowder of cats in my backyard and I am certain they had just all ran out the back door. The kitchen was a mess.
I feel so lucky, to have seen actual pictures of the lovely Dolly Gee. She's as beautiful as you describe her.
Hari OM
Oh I'm feeling better now - I thought I was the only one with uncannily adept pets!!
...though I am concerned that you may one morning forget she is NOT actually a canoe...
My cat would have eaten the lunch after I left and later on told me that she did not want it to go to waste. What kind of job is she seeking?
Your cat tales always please me!
I would think that a cat that knows how to sing could easily find a job. :-D
Is smoking bad for cats..........lol
Does coffee make the hyper.......just asking
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