My Three Songs: 09/07/10

1. Whitesnake - Slow and Easy
2. Led Zeppelin - Black Dog
3. Ted Nugent - Cat Scratch Fever

Theme :: Animals.  C'mon... snake, dog, cat.  That was an easy one.

I think this is what would happen if they all mated. Sweet dreams.

Chapter 76.4: Cat Calls

I know that I shouldn't expect much of a cat, but our boy's been clammoring for the past 10 minutes for me to play with him. I've been trying to write (having already "enjoyed" cleaning the gutters; God, that stuff is disgusting!), and he keeps popping his mouth off, flicking his tail at my nose, and bopping his head under my chin.

Or maybe he's saying, if you let me out in the back yard on this lovely day, you can finish the last few pages of revisions to your novel in the porch you cleaned up. Wouldn't that be nice?

Maybe with a scotch.

Chapter 69.95: The Cat Trial of the Century

As the owner now of two cats, I can't help but respond to this recent article that appeared in the New York Times. Apparently, a bird watcher shot a cat with a .22 calibre rifle because he believed it was killing the birds. He doesn't deny that he shot the cat. The point of contention in the suit is whether the cat was feral.

I don't know how the law treats questions of feralness (ferality?), but this sounds like a clear case of animal cruelty to me. We took in a stray kitten just this week, gave it a name the other night, and are slowly introducing it to our other cat -- who probably wishes he had a .22 in the closet right now that he could use on the small quadriped that's taking some attention away from him -- and I'd say this cat is no longer feral. She's quite comfortable living here, accepting our pets and attention in return for lots of purrs, soft mews, and an inordinate amount of methane gas. (Surely those field mice and moles have worked through you system by now, Oreo. What on earth is wrong with your intestines?!)

Beyond that, how can a man who loves animals shoot and kill a cat? Is he not human?

Humans care for those who are less fortunate than themslves, like Texas toll collector John Newland, who named Mama Cat. The cat lived under a toll bridge but gladly accepted food and toys and bedding from Mr. Newland. I won't get into the vitriolic debate between bird bloggers and cat bloggers, who are writing hateful posts about the other, but I'll say this: a man who would kill a defenseless animal (I don't think the claws and teeth were any threat to the admitted cat killer) is no better than a thief. He deserves punishment.

I don't think it's as heinous a crime as rape or murder of a person, but it's despicable and cannot be condoned. The two years and $10,000 he faces seem appropriate to me.

Chapter 69.93: If I Only Had a Name

The little girl has been christened with a name. Meet Oreo. Her mom wouldn't allow any clothing-related names that dad suggested, such as Tuxedo, Mukluk, or Bowtie. (All right, I actually didn't suggest Bowtie -- even I think that's a dumb name for a cat.) Since little Oreo has been confined to my wife's home office for the past few days, I suggested we name her after the cat from The Office. However, I couldn't picture either of us calling this cat Sprinkles, and that cat's life ends badly. No one needs to be saddled with that kind of ominous name. And Fart Monster wasn't kind either, though incredibly appropriate so far.

And mom wasn't keen on Orca, either. But Oreo's coloring, which inspired the Orca appellation, led to her eventual name.

Oreo also has a job. Like most kids these days, she's comfortable with technology and has already become quite familiar with the keyboard, the CD-ROMs, and of course the mouse. So Oreo has become the IT Specialist -- as seen above. Note: the photo a couple posts ago of a kitten with a toy computer is not actually our little Oreo but an incredible facsimile. That post was created before this little bundle of shaky nerves (she likes coffee, too) entered our yard and our lives.

Chapter 69.9: New Arrival

We've been blessed with a challenge. An abandoned kitten discovered our home the other day, and -- despite our established cat's initial objections -- we've brought this little girl into our family. She's going to be a handful, I'm sure, but she's starving for attention and love.

Her big brother will be getting lots of love and attention too, as he's got to know he's still #1. But in time we hope he'll be a good older brother. We expect he'll let us know pretty soon whether he can handle the change, and it will have to be on his terms.

Chapter 53.5: A Child's Christmas As a Cat

With all the travel we'll have over the next couple of days, we decided to celebrate Christmas at home this morning. Though the cat usually wakes us up early, he seems to have started to understand Saturday means the humans stay in bed. So he wasn't as concerned as he often is, making sure that I get to my train on time. But he did seem curious about the presents under the tree -- some of which were for him.

I got out of bed around 9 or so and fed him and started some coffee, but his petulant mewing told me he wanted more. So I started to toss mice around. He loves this. It's his time to run and pounce and play. I enjoy it too -- as long as he's not gnawing on my heels. Seeing him zip from room to room, bounce the mice around like a basketball or swat at them like soccer balls makes me long for coaching sports.

Though he's a housecat, Riley loves the great outdoors -- the backyard is as far as we let him roam, and always on a leash. But during the winter (even as mild as this one has begun), he doesn't have the same number of visual stimuli as the spring or summer. Fewer birds, the squirrels are preoccupied, and the grass isn't as tasty as new spring shoots. Once the wife was up and I'd scrambled the eggs, it was time to open the presents -- including those for the cat. I got him a DVD of Swan Lake -- rather swans on a pond. There's birdsong and trilling insects in the background. It will entertain him while my wife works or if we're out for a couple hours -- as will the new mice we gave him and the stuffed cat that mews like it needs to be fed.

So Merry Cat Christmas, Riley. I hope you enjoyed it. Now if you could only learn how to clean your box by yourself.