Not So Cute Little Orange Talking Kitties

TUESDAY, MAY 18, 2010


Not So Cute Little Orange Talking Kitties

Someone is in the bathroom carrying on an extended conversation with the Cute Little Orange Talking Kitty. He has always been a talker. Lately I think he is practicing for the debate team every time he cranks it up... Or worse; something else.

He hasn’t been feeling well recently. Most likely he will get to use his debit card for another trip to the Vet. Vet visits usually do not start well. The tangerine terror knows what the pet carrier is. When it is carried through the kitchen door he is off to the races trying to win one leg of the Feline Triple Crown. I try to be out of the house when one of these is planned. He is not like ‘Big Gray’ who just goes to the furthest reaches under the couch or behind the piano where he bites like a saber tooth to prevent incarceration... Or the ‘Purrfect Kitty’ who comes over and climbs into the cage smiling like the Cheshire Cat while purring.

I am unhappy for him because he is not feeling well. Evidence of some special upcoming events is announced just prior to occurrence by a special kind of screeching aria that could wake the dead. Somehow I am lucky enough to be alive. Through years of training I can manage to sleep through most of these brief but loud serenades. Not enough of them happen when I am sleeping though. His beloved mom, the one he convinces me to buy Mother’s Day presents for, is not quite as lucky. She nodded off when the training was shown on Animal Planet. She also has an all day meeting today and Pippin had four major events last nite after we turned in early so she could get some sleep to be fresh and cheerful for her all day meeting.

Children and pets plan the most inconvenient and annoying times to get sick.

When we hit the rack, while I was reading and right after ‘sleep noises’ started emanating from the other side of my parents old double bed, the live concert began. I leapt up and ran to the source hoping I could get him off the expensive rug before it was ruined (it has been hard trying to train the Cute Little Orange Barfing Kitty to be sick only on the wood floor or the tile). It would be even better if I could figure out a way to get him to spew in tub or toilet. Almost forgot that the toilet is out because DakotaDawg thinks the party punch is stored under the lid. I guess the tub is out of the question too since the ‘Purrfect Kitty’ likes to lick the tub clean for her nightly hydration after the humans shower. Maybe I can develop a regime to get him to use the litter box with the clumping stuff that is choking our landfill.

I did manage to get to the scene of the crime just in time to avert a deposit on the rug. The first deposit was already on the couch. Conveniently, it was left on the sheet put there for just such emergencies and of course that inevitable deluge of cat hair. I quickly folded up the evidence inside the sheet and used the dry portion to mop up the wood floor. I chucked the sheet into the washing machine. Someone got up to supervise and have a brief conversation with the perp. We added some towels to the washer to make a small load. We sent the evidence straight to the sewer plant and it would not be too inconvenient for me to stay up a little longer and read until I heard the buzz of the washing machine alarm.

Thank goodness for that alarm. How would I know the cycle was done if I was in bed unaware of the cessation of the noise that is additionally supplemented by pleasing visual stimuli, the flashing Light Emitting Diodes. I checked before going back to bed that the load was properly adjusted so the machine wouldn’t be jumping all over the place with other warning lights blinking. I knew I couldn’t just sit in the kitchen and watch the progression of LED’s announcing how much time was left. Those lights are so useful because they keep me from having to go over to the machine to see how far the dial has turned. Fortunately they haven’t yet come up with other beeps or buzzes that also mark load progress, at least on our machine.

In bed I finished reading two articles in the new National Geographic before the washing machine started buzzing to notify me that transfer to the dryer was required. I eased out of the bed trying my best not to interrupt the sleep noises and made the transfer. When I got back to bed and into the prone position; I realized that I was not successful. I rolled over and turned off the reading light and soon was oblivious, completely unconscious. Hopefully the dryer buzzer would, at least, not wake me.

I should have seen all of this coming after the visit to the FIL. On our arrival home we were greeted by the usual plant retchings of ‘Big Gray’ and one huge lake of nastiness on the back rug courtesy of the Cute Little Orange Talking Kitty. Atticus (‘Big Gray’) rarely talks except when he feels his food or water bowl is not full enough or something else is not to his liking or needs serious attention. He especially likes to pass along his thoughts when I am on the toilet or in a rush to get there.

We are fortunate to also have Cassie, the ‘Purrfect Kitty’. The ‘Purrfect Kitty’ does not talk unless she has some secret conversations ‘Sleep Talker’ or DakotaDawg that I am not privy to. We do not count that incessant annoying purring. I suppose that is part of her being so ‘Purrfect’. She does however snore like a crack addict with allergies. Usually this is quite amusing since Cassie makes some extremely curious noises when she sleeps. Except for those gorgeous white hairballs that dance around on the wooden floors under the air conditioning ducts as evidence of her domicile, she truly is the ‘Purrfect Kitty’. Floating, dancing hairballs are not disgusting like the ones the boys attempt to disguise with food or plant particulate.

Getting back to the initial topic of today’s rant... When we got home, the edge of the back rug looked like it had been covered by one of the Great Lakes, possibly Lake Erie. It certainly looked about the color of what I remember Lake Erie used to look like. I have heard some terrible things about Lake Erie but I assure you; even before the Clean Waters Act, Erie never smelled as bad as the partially evaporated mess on the carpet, fringe and wood floor. It was not enough that it smelled so bad that it made me gag but I still had to scrub it up. This is an activity that is just slightly less enjoyable than mining for feces and pee clumps in the litter box with the specialty tool they provide.

I finally cleaned it up and was thankful the remnants were on the least expensive rug in the house. The poor boy must really be sick.

The next day we got to stimulate the economy by going to the store to find some magically formulated cleaning agents in powder and in spray cans. The scrubbing with what we had available and covering with baking soda didn’t seem to help at all.

After we got up, someone had to make become cheerful and dress for the meeting. The animals gathered around the bed supervising and advising about what jewelry goes best with what outfit. That Cute Little Orange Talking Kitty rushed to the hallway announcing the need to hurry. At least I thought that was what he was yakking about right up ‘til he started gagging.

I won’t get onto the topic of eating cherries that was mentioned as somebody rushed past the recliner on her way out the door for the meeting. I am saving that one for another day. Ever since the ‘Witches of Eastwick’ I can not seem to choke cherries down. Some reason that reminds me of our Cute Little Orange Talking Kitty.

Have to stop now. My Cute Little Orange Talking Kitty just announced that he needs to be petted and wants to purr. He is climbing into my lap to try to nap on my portable computer. Besides, he always provides something to talk about before and after meetings. So I guess we should keep him...