Some friends just got new kittens, and are sharing photos over on facebook. Reminding me of early days with Pixel, so I felt the need to dig up a photo.
Unanticipated side effect of the new Macbook. It has magnetic latches for holding the lid shut, apparently at each corner. And Pixel–who loves to rub up against the corners–has a tendancy to become attached to the laptop by her metal collar tags.
If I disturb Pixel while she’s sleeping–sleeping very deeply– she’ll drowsily lift her head while I scratch behind her ears. But she doesn’t quite wake up, because when I walk away, and look back, she’s fallen asleep again, with her head still stuck up in the air.
The attack cat came through again today. When the apartment came under attack from hostile insect insurgents, she sprang into action—literally. After some tense moments bouncing off the walls, she caught the fly in mid-air. After that, it was 1, 2, 3, … 10. And the fly never made it up off the mat. Pixel’s been watching too much nature channel, though. She tried to eat the remains of the losing opponent.
She’s spent the remainder of the night in a well-deserved coma.
You know… I may get kicked out of the He-man Woman Haters Club for saying so, but I love my kitty. And I’m starting to believe that she may see me as more than a walking food dispenser.
To set the scene… for the last couple weeks, Pixel has been sleeping on the far corner of the bed… most of the day. And once she’s comfortable, she won’t move for anything short of a flock of seagulls swooping through the apartment. Day or night you can find her on the far corner of the bed.
I woke up about 7 this morning feeling like absolute shit. Pixel was, of course, at the far corner of the bed. I sort of hobbled into the bathroom and sat doubled over for a few minutes. I finally collected myself and went to wash my hands, and found her sitting on the sink waiting for me. It’s all sweet and nice, of course, but I still felt terrible. So I wandered back and collapsed on the bed, determined to sleep it off. About ten seconds later, Pixel hopped up next to me and curled up against my chest. At the top of the bed.
I woke up late this morning feeling fine. She has returned to the normal cat mode of ignoring and abusing me.
I am not the most sociable person in the world. (If you know me, you may need to stop now and compose yourself before continuing to read.) But somehow I know what seems to me to be an inordinately large number of people.
I’ve always had people in my hometown who remember our childhood together better than me, (my recollection usually being: not at all). It hurts when they’re cute women.
College was college, and a seemingly never-ending stream of people flow through your life. Just recently, there was a girl’s name I couldn’t remember, right up until I started writing just now. (Sally… though I knew her as Odie).
The Internet has only made this problem more severe. People who are bad at names should avoid at all costs an addiction to IRC. You will form interesting relationships with dozens of people, none of which is likely to last longer than 2 or 3 months, (the average productive lifespan of a channel). But these people will keep popping up. I know I know them. I’ve talked with them for hours. I have their pictures. But damned if it isn’t all sort of a blur. (The fact that most of it took place at 2 or 3 in the morning may be a possible cause for the distortion).
Well… I’ve also now been working professionally for seven or eight years. God help me when they call up telling me how wonderful our previous project went and they can’t wait to work together again. (When they bring up the project, I’m fine. I could tell you the details and evolution of every piece of art I’ve ever touched.)
My clothes are in a pile on the floor. Clean clothes. In a stretched out pile. Because I’m just that lazy. And they weren’t really dry when I go them from the dryer.
Ran out of here late this morning, and it was just that bad a day, so they’re still there.
But it makes Pixel happy. She loves to curl up in a pile of laundry, though she’s not particular about whether it’s clean or not.
And I just can’t shove her out of the way to fold the laundry.
I finally went to the Animal Shelter last week, looking for a cat. And I was right; the right one just stands out. As soon as I saw her, I was in love with this animal. A beautiful cinnamon-colored Abyssinian.
I only hope I can get her. They still have to hold it in case the owner claims it. That won’t happen. It already sat on a window ledge for 5 days before someone brought it to the Shelter.
Monday will be six days since my visit, so I will call them back and check. And hopefully proceed with the adoption.