Posts Tagged ‘limbs akimbo’

That old saying that dogs have owners and cats have staff is so true.  In terms of archetype, I would describe a cat’s behavior as “king”:  they command more than demand attention—especially when it comes to love and affection.

Picture this scenario:  You’re paying the bills, penning an email or talking on the phone.  In other words, you’re just not giving your domestic feline enough attention as he patiently waits by your feet.  Since his world revolves around his immediate needs, up he jumps onto the desk to be closer to his human caretaker.  You pet, scritch behind the ears and then return to the task that has taken your focus.  Of course this is not good enough.  So with a barely noticeable swipe of the paw, a trinket is gently swept off the desk…  You notice, pick up said item and gently chide the offender—with the goal of returning to the task at hand.

But yet again, this is not good enough.  In his world, you have not provided enough attention. For a more dramatic effect, the offending kitty might choose to take a flying leap and ski across your paperwork—with documents aflutter and limbs akimbo.  After a few deep breathes, you gently toss the offender out of the room and close the door in a huff.  Bad kitty!

But of course our cats are not being bad.  They are just being the kingly, self-focused creatures they were born to be.  It was during this slow and somewhat reluctant realization I discovered the joy of the head nuggie—that robust rubbing of the noggin to express love, affection and…ownership.  In addition to five felines, we now have a menagerie of neon tetras and semi-aggressive tropical fish (angels, tiger barbs, clown loaches, silver dollars, catfish), two albino African claw-footed frogs and hundreds of apple snails.  (Well, we started with just three, but they did what nature does best.  I think we now have a handle on snail population control…) One afternoon while lying the floor and admiring how fast our snail progeny has been maturing, Junior, with vigor and focus, started rubbing his head against mine.  I needed to pay attention to him!  But then I decided to do something quite feline-like—I rubbed his noggin back, nuggie-style—and I liked it!

That afternoon the nuggie session was born.

I have seen the kitties rub up against each other, but this is the first time I had the honor of being a recipient of a head nuggie.  I did research on this phenomenon: http://hglick.hubpages.com/hub/Cat-Symptoms.  So, I’ve been officially anointed by the kings (and princes) of the household—a great honor for a mere human, ehhh?

I have now experienced the quiet joy of the head nuggie with Tigger, during our nightly calming and cuddling ritual before bedtime; with Puffy during our morning bed-making routine; and with Chewie whenever he demands a good face rub and a brushing.

Yes, our kitties can be frustrating and self-centered at times, but their simple outlook on life is also quite refreshing:  Imagine a life where, without any need for explanation or justification, you just ask for what you want.  Simple and to the point.  No need to prove your worthiness to be a recipient of life’s abundance.  And then you wait for it manifest in all its magnificent glory.

Imagine that, indeed.

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He’s  a big boy weighing in at about 12 pounds at his last vet visit in March.  He’s a long haired blondie with hints of red.    He’s Puffy, aka The Puff, Big Puff Daddy, Puffenstein,  and sometimes even The Puffernator.

Puffy is the epitome of persistence and a lesson in the benefits of consistency.  He is a simple cat with a hint of the divine—the kitty reminder of stopping and smelling the roses…Puffy’s  needs are uncomplicated, and he revels in life’s sensual pleasures.  Nearly every morning, Puffy is waiting by the back gate, demanding to be let in for his morning dose of mother love.  With his rump raised high in anticipation, the scratching session begins!  Ooooo….ahhhhh….underneath the chin, now.  Oooooh, the belly.  Prrrr.  PRRRR.

In terms of habits, Puffy has his usual sleeping spots: atop of the closet in my office or in a “slot”-like area of Roger’s wardrobe.  Puffy must think of himself as a circus kitty, a feline contortionist when he wraps his big, bulky body around the pole of a kitty tree, hind legs and front paws akimbo. 

And he certainly enjoys just hanging loose.  With his  limbs a-danglin, you can find him precariously perched on all sorts of surfaces:  most currently, atop of the fish tank; and on various high ledges, carpeted cat stairs, or inside the bottom of one of my congas.  That’s right.  I have a set of congas on a stand, and The Puffernator likes to crawl up through the bottom of one of them and just hang, with a hint of his tail peaking through the bottom.  We believe he just exhales to expand and uses his girth to keep him in place.

He’s won a special place in my heart because he has put the prime bully, Blackie, in his place in the household kitty hierarchy.  The Puff is like a protection detail for Tigger.  Sometimes he overwhelms the woosy poosy with his enthusiasm, but Tigger has certainly expanded his in-home roaming range now that Puffy is on the prowl…

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