Category Archives: Patience With My New Cats

I Go to the Bathroom With Cats

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Anyone who has cats has experienced this. When you go into the bathroom, your cats go with you, because, you know, there are SOOO many interesting things to play with in there! And privacy? As far as the cats are concerned, they’re the only ones who deserve any of that. You certainly don’t. So if you want to go into the bathroom to use the facilities, so to speak, you’ll just have to get used to doing it in the presence of your cats.

There are some people who’ve decided they don’t want their cats in the bathroom when they’re in there, so they close the door so the cats can’t follow them in. The only problem with that is that the cats don’t like being shut out, so they respond by sticking their paws under the door and moving them around. I don’t bother with that, because I live alone with my cats, so I just leave the door open.

My cats have discovered that they’re big enough to climb onto the bathroom counter, as well as my dining room table. Plus, I discovered that they found the three necklaces that I’d been keeping on the bathroom counter next to the sink. Silly me, it never occurred to me that I would need to find a different place to keep them before the cats found them.

Oh well! Too late! They found my necklaces and decided they were lovely to play with, since they were all shiny and sparkly, so they played with them until two of them went down the drain in the sink. The third one got shoved off onto the floor and played with down there, and then they got bored with it. I’m so glad that necklace didn’t end up down the drain like the other two. Otherwise I might not have noticed they were gone. Fortunately, once I realized they were gone, I was able to get my wonderful housekeeper to dredge the other two out of the drain while she was cleaning.

I have the BEST housekeeper!!

They also figured out how to pull out the drain plug and play with it. From now on the cats won’t be spending any time in the bathroom unless I’m in there too. The door will remain closed otherwise.

All of the above was written several months ago, after which I put this draft away for awhile. Solomon and Gracie have grown considerably since I last looked at this, so I thought I’d get it out again, and hopefully I’ll be able to finish it now.

Solomon and Gracie are now a little over a year old, thirteen months according to the vet, and I’ve come to the conclusion that if Solomon were human he would like bathroom jokes. I suppose that sounds a little strange, but the reason I think that is because one of his favorite pastimes is to stick his nose into Gracie’s butthole and take a sniff. Gracie almost never returns the favor, but that doesn’t seem to bother Solomon. He just sniffs on and on.

Another thing he likes to do is when I’m in the bathroom he likes to chase his tail behind the shower curtain. I haven’t seen him chase his tail anywhere else in my apartment, just behind the shower curtain. He also likes to play hide-and-seek behind the shower curtain. He likes to go back there and just sit. If I look at him back there he’ll look up at me and meow, otherwise he just sits there.

The two cats have very distinct personalities. Gracie is very dainty and ladylike, and Solomon is goofy, and all boy. His tail is thicker, and he lets it trail out behind him like a flag, while Gracie’s tail is thinner and kind of pointy, and she always has it curled tastefully and elegantly around her body. Plus, Solomon talks all the time, while Gracie is the silent type. Whenever Solomon moves he lets out a squeak. Every move is accompanied by some sort of vocalization. On the other hand, I call Gracie, Gracie the Inscrutable, because she’s quite mysterious most of the time.

Both of them are very affectionate, however, which is wonderful.

Below you’ll see the most current photo of them. I just took it a few minutes ago. Oh, the wonders of smart phone photography!

Solomon is on the left, and Gracie, looking her usual inscrutable self, is on the right. Aren’t they beautiful? Biased as I am, I think they’re gorgeous! And they’re so much FUN!!

I’m so grateful to God for giving me these two amazing and rambunctious cats. At times they try my patience, but even then I’m blessed to have them.

The godly care for their animals, but the wicked are always cruel. ~ Proverbs 12:10, NLT.

Of Litter Boxes and Love

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Every once in a while I’m confronted with just how much I hate cleaning out Charlotte’s litter box. I hate cleaning it, and I hate changing the litter as well. You can well imagine that this is, by definition, a real problem, because cats need to have a clean litter box if they’re indoor cats, which Charlotte is. Otherwise they start doing their business, if you know what I mean, everywhere but the litter box, and I’ll leave the results of that fiasco to your imagination.

My frustration with the litter box comes from the fact that Charlotte pees on my bed if she doesn’t like the condition of her litter box.

How, you might ask, do I know that’s what my cat is thinking when she pees on my bed? Well, I’ll tell you.

The only time she pees on my bed is when I’m not cleaning out out her litter box often enough, and one could interpret that to mean that I’m not keeping it clean enough to keep her satisfied, so she punishes me by peeing on my bed.

She’s also peed on my cross stitch, and that’s a worse sin, if possible than peeing on my bed. I’ve put in hundreds of hours on this cross stitch, and I expect to put in hundreds, if not thousands, of hours more, and the thought that Charlotte could ruin it in one fell swoop simply by peeing on it fills me with…

Well, I’m not sure what it fills me with, but you can be sure it’s not good. So I guess I have to pray for God’s help to forgive her. And then I have to figure out how to get the stain out.

There’s a saying: dogs have owners; cats have staff. It seems to hold true in my case, and she’s only five months old. I’ve long had the feeling that whatever cat I own ~ that she actually owns me. You know, I pay the rent, but Lily, or Rosie (the cat I had before Lily) and now Charlotte rules the roost. And it feels like it’s especially true with Charlotte, as young as she is, because she feels like a baby-tyrant. And just so you know, I’ve only ever had female cats, except for Dennis the Menace when I was a kid, but I wasn’t allowed to choose him. My parents did that, because I was only five at the time. Other than Dennis the Menace, I don’t like male pets. They have too much visible equipment for my taste.

If I look at it from a more practical and logical perspective, I know that cats have a heightened and acute sense of smell. So smells most of us can barely notice are probably bowling Charlotte over because they’re so strong. So while I can’t smell her litter box even when I’m right next to it, she can probably smell the litter box downstairs when she’s in the loft upstairs. All of which says I need to put aside my own frustration and work harder to keep it clean ~ which I’m doing because I love her.

In an interesting aside, I’ve never been able to smell marijuana, and have therefore never been able to get high on it, something I don’t regret at all. When I was in college, I would come into the lobby of the dorm where I was living on a Friday or Saturday night, and the friend at the front desk would ask me if I could smell the grass as I was coming to the lobby from my room, and I would tell her I couldn’t. Her response was always that she was surprised, because the smell was so overpowering, you could get high just walking through the building.

Not only can I not smell marijuana, but I can’t smell much of anything at all, because a kid in seventh grade band class punched me in the nose for telling the teacher that they’d left the room. I was incredibly naive back then, and I didn’t know you weren’t supposed to rat on other students, so when A.S. (name changed and disguised to protect their privacy) left the room as the teacher was taking roll, I made the mistake of telling the teacher about it when he called their name. Then when they came back, someone else told them about it, and they came up to me and punched me hard in the nose because I’d tattled on them. My nose bled so heavily that day that my dress was ruined, and they had to take me to the hospital to have it X-rayed to make sure it wasn’t broken.

Fortunately my nose wasn’t broken, but my sense of smell was forever changed. About the only things I can smell now are certain flowers, in particular gardenias.

That was over 50 years ago, and I’ve forgiven A.S., but I still can’t smell much more than a few kinds of flowers. I’m okay with that, and if I’m stuck with a sense of smell that’s narrowed down to a few flowers and nothing more, then I’m grateful that I can smell flowers, because flowers are beautiful. Gardenias have a truly heavenly scent. I hope Heaven will smell like gardenias, though I imagine it will probably smell even more amazing and wonderful than that, even beyond my wildest imagination.

7 We speak about the mystery of God’s wisdom. It is a wisdom that has been hidden, which God had planned for our glory before the world began. 8 Not one of the rulers of this world has known it. If they had, they wouldn’t have crucified the Lord of glory. 9 But as Scripture says: “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined the things that God has prepared for those who love him.” ~ 1 Corinthians 2:7-9 (Isaiah 64:4), Names of God Bible.

I’ve wondered about God’s wisdom in giving me this particular cat, because I’ve had so many problems with her. But I’ve also wondered if I jumped the gun and got a cat too soon out of impatience, because I wanted a cat so badly. So maybe I got the wrong cat because I should have waited for God to send me the perfect cat ~ and maybe that’s why I’ve had so many problems with her. She certainly has tried my patience, that’s for sure.

So that’s the latest chapter in the continuing saga of Charlotte the Cat. She continues to be a mystery, because I don’t understand much of what she does, and she remains the cat with more energy than any cat I’ve ever seen or known. She is the busiest one cat I’ve ever seen. She allows me to be closer to her if I’m sitting on my couch, but she still runs away if I walk towards her. At least for the time being I’ve solved the problem with her peeing on my stuff by keeping her out of my bedroom entirely, and keeping her away from my cross stitch. My bedroom door is always closed, and my cross stitch goes with me wherever I go, or it stays in my bedroom behind closed doors.

God is good ALL the time, regardless of what’s happening, good or bad, in my life.

A Cross Stitch, New Kitties, and Two Smoking Needles

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I am now the proud owner of two new cats ~ well, kittens, really ~ they’re three months old, and litter mates. I’m going to name them Charlotte (which means “freedom”) and Margaret (which means “pearl”). I love naming my pets somewhat improbable names, and Charlotte and Margaret were the most improbable but beautiful names I could think of. Plus they have great meanings, and names with good meanings are important to me.

I adopted them from a PetsMart near me, and they are both a bit shy around strange people and places. So I’m keeping them in the bathroom, as that’s the smallest room in my apartment, and hopefully there will be less in there to frighten them. I’ve put a bowl of food and another of water in with them, and a litter box should they feel safe enough to venture out of the carrier long enough to use it if the need arises. .

Aren’t they beautiful? Charlotte is a lynx-point Siamese (Siamese-tabby mix) with blue eyes, and Margaret is a grey and white tabby with greenish-brown eyes that seem to change colors depending on the light she’s in. Charlotte is more shy than Margaret. They’re huddled up together in the back of the carrier at present, and Charlotte is squished behind Margaret. Anytime I glance in on them, Margaret looks up at me and hisses as if to show me how brave she is. It’s very sweet.

I’ve been working very hard on my cross stitch, and making great progress on it. The frustrating thing is, twice in the last three days I’ve lost a needle. I’m really excited and glad about the progress, but I can’t be losing needles right when I bring home two new cats! Needles and cats definitely don’t go together. So I’ve been frantically praying that God would show me where they are, or just plain bring them back to me before either Charlotte or Margaret has a chance to come in contact with them.

My most recent WIP.

Charlotte’s Toys

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Even though Charlotte still won’t let me near her, she is quite active in my apartment. Debbie, the woman from whom I adopted her, gave me a bag of food and a couple of plastic sandwich bags full of toys so Charlotte would have something to play with should she so desire.

Charlotte seems to love these toys, because every time I come out of my bedroom when I wake up in the morning, I find them scattered all over the floor in completely different places from where I placed them the night before. And she seems to play with them ALL the TIME because even five minutes after the last time I saw them they’ve been further scattered and in different positions than they were previously. The only rule seems to be that she doesn’t do any of it in my presence.

The fact that she refuses to play in my presence brings up another, slightly sticky subject. She still won’t come near me, and runs from me if I walk anywhere even remotely close to her. I did manage to get her to sleep in the same room with me last night by virtue of closing the door to my bedroom immediately after coming in so she wouldn’t have a chance to escape. But I wasn’t sure if she was actually in the room, because it was dark, and I couldn’t see anything.

And, as it turned, out she was in the room, as I found out this morning when she woke me up because she wanted to get out, but couldn’t because the door was closed. It was the first time she’d made a sound since I got her, so I was delighted that she woke me up so I could hear her voice. She has a tiny, high-pitched, squeaky cry, but she’s still pretty little, being only three months old.

So when she started meowing I got up to open the door. When I stood up, she leapt into the air in terror and flew into the far corner of the room with her tail all floofed out. It was quite a sight. She’s such a pretty little thing with her blue eyes, but the terror she was obviously feeling kind of obliterated everything else.

Charlotte In Her Carrier Right After I Got Her Home

Isn’t she beautiful? I think she’s perfectly lovely! I just hope and pray that she’ll get used to me so she’s no longer terrified of me. I love her so much already!

The godly care for their animals, but the wicked are always cruel. ~ Proverbs 12:10, NLT.

So that’s the latest in the continuing saga of Charlotte!