Friday, November 18, 2011

Lazy Friday

Lemuel and Kid were having their usual morning chat.  Kid filled Lemuel in on the latest with little Miss Clementine.  Lemuel had to chuckle when he heard about how she’d hidden under the bed when the police came to bring back the yarn lady’s computers.  He was glad that she hadn’t gone to jail because of something her kitten had done, although from what he’d heard of her, she probably would have gone to jail for Clementine if she felt it was the right thing to do to protect her.  Lemuel had never met the yarn lady, but had seen her peering through the hedgerow at him when he’d first come to live at Bart’s farm.  She looked like a nice enough person, and she certainly was nice to Val’s menagerie. 

Clementine was hanging out with the yarn lady, trying to just be the best, most obedient kitten ever.  Unfortunately, she was still a kitten, and so it was a very hard thing to do.  She’d sat in the yarn lady’s arms and purred, but then started gnawing on her hair.  Then she kept her company while she cut out teeny tiny pieces of paper and stuck them to a bigger piece of paper (why?) but started playing with the yarn lady’s embroidered Hmong jacket.  She ran around being cute, but forgot to be good and started scratching at the big plastic bag that had Mickie’s afghan in it.  Oh, this being good was so hard.  She decided that she’d just lie down for a nap, as she knew she couldn’t get into any trouble while she was sleeping.

Peep was sunning by the back door, thinking about Lemuel, when by an odd coincidence some wild turkeys walked through the yard.  She called to them, promising that she wouldn’t chase them, and would they please talk to her about how she might be able to save a friend who was a domestic turkey?  They stopped but kept their distance.  The tom looked at her and shook his head.  “There’s no saving a domestic turkey at Thanksgiving unless he or she wants to hit the road, and even then it’s not easy.  We had a hen join us just two days ago, but domestic turkeys just aren’t made for the effort we need to put forth just to survive.  We walk miles every day, fly when we need to evade hostiles and sleep with one eye open.  She lasted a day and a half with us, but then decided this morning that she’d take her chances with the geese down the street and stayed with them.  I hope for her sake the folks there already have their turkey in the freezer.”  Having said that, the turkeys moved on. 

Loaf Cat came out from under the deck, where he’d been listening.  The two chatted for a few minutes about what the Great Cat must have been thinking of when developing turkeys.  Peep was of the opinion that She’d been distracted mid-way through the job, and Loaf Cat thought He’d just decided that it was a good day for a joke.  The two of them laughed at the sight of the turkeys feeding on the seed heads in the yard next door and decided to go beg for treats from the Daddy.

LT was on top of his summer house, as it was a nice place to take the sun.  He really wasn’t looking forward to tonight’s Cat Club meeting.  He had kind of made a fool of himself last week over the election, although he hadn’t thought so at the time.  What did it really matter if he was Czar, King, chairman or just plain old LT?  He was loved by the Daddy and had his friends around him.   He wondered if he should just tell everyone to forget about the whole thing, but didn’t want it to look like he knew he’d lose and so was cancelling the whole election.  He may have been grateful for what he had, but he still had his pride.  Well, he’d listen to what everyone had to say tonight, and take his lead from whatever the group wanted.  Rudy did hit the nail on the head – they were cats, and cats didn’t take kindly to being told what to do at the best of times, even if it was by other cats.  Kittens didn’t even put up for it for long.  As soon as they were big enough to outrun their mothers they stopped taking orders.  Fortunately for the race of cats, they’d also acquired a certain amount of sense by that time; otherwise cats would have probably gone extinct a long time ago. 

Rudy was coming back from a visit to Bunny and Ladybug.  She was wishing that Bunny would go to Tibet and find out if they made hearing aids for cats.  Her hearing was getting pretty bad.  Rudy and Ladybug had done most of the talking, with frequent interruptions from Bunny such as, “You caught a beet?  How hard is it to catch a beet?  They just lie there.”  That conversation had been about Rudy catching a bee in the back yard.  A funnier one had been when they were talking about Grey, and a conversation that the Mommy riding him.  Bunny thought they were talking about whores, and well, Bunny’s remarks shouldn’t be repeated in polite society.  On the serious side, they had talked about LT and the election tonight.  The three agreed that no matter what, no one would be allowed to hurt LT’s feelings.  If the male cats didn’t want to be ruled by a czar, fine, but they’d either say it nicely or feel the wrath of whatever female cat was sitting next to him.  A well placed claw in the paw can shut down any cat. 

Tatum was in heaven.  The yarn lady had gone upstairs to look for something in the noisy girl’s room and he’d snuck in while the door was open.  He jumped up on the bed and snuggled into her covers.  Ah, peace and warmth.  The noisy girl would be in for a surprise when she got home. 

Ursula was stalking a mouse in the kitchen.  Well, at least she was pretty sure it was a mouse.  It was definitely the time of year that they started coming in, and Tatum had caught one last week.  He was so proud of himself that he tried to tell his beloved Daddy about it, but forgot that if he opened his mouth to talk that the mouse would fall out.  Since the mouse in question was completely undamaged, it zoomed under the stove where Tatum couldn’t fit and taunted him from there for the next half hour.  The one Ursula was currently after wasn’t saying anything at all, so she didn’t know if it was the same mouse or a different one.  She had all the time in the world, and a decent amount of patience, so she stood a good chance of catching it, as long as the mouse eventually did come out from under the stove. 

Emma shut the office door, carefully making sure that it looked latched, even though it wasn’t.  It was very hard for her to unlatch the door, and she wanted to make sure she could get back on the computer later this evening.  There were no new emails from her friends today, although she did have the usual selection of ads for catnip without prescription from Canada.  Since she didn’t have a credit card, she was never tempted to try the site out to see if it ever came or whether the animal cops would show up to bust her for importing catnip.

Buddy was being a monorail cat on the porch railing, eyes mostly closed as he let the sun soak into his black fur.  It wasn’t fun being a black cat in the heat of the summer, but it sure was great in the winter.  His fur absorbed all the warmth from the sun’s rays, allowing him to stay outside for much longer than the other cats, and certainly longer than the dogs.  Ziggy’s fur got long in the winter, since Val didn’t trim it much, but all that white fur didn’t absorb any heat at all.  That left him with just his body heat, as much as would stay trapped by his fur.  He didn’t last long outside in the winter.  And Bella, well her short little coat was designed for Mexican weather, not a New Jersey winter.  From now until sometime in the spring, she spent as little time outside as possible.  Ah, life was good when you were a black cat.  

Some of the hens were perched on the roost, also enjoying the sunlight.  They were mostly to completely white, depending on their breeding, but they enjoyed the feel of the sun on their faces.  They were a quiet group today.  There was no use discussing winter plans, or much of anything.  Each hen just sat with her own thoughts and memories. 

Tiffany was snoozing between Courtney and two other hens.  In her dreams it was warm and she was being preened by her mother.  Her feathers were starting to come in (at least in the dream) and Courtney was separating them and cleaning them while telling Tiffany a story about a red chicken baking bread.  She wasn’t sure, either in her dream or in real life, what bread was, but that’s what the story was about.  She smiled up at her mother and peeped along with her each time her mother said, “Not I!”  Someday she’d tell this story to her own poults.   


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