Friday, January 6, 2012

Cats, unfortunately, do not hibernate

The older Rudy got, the more she wished that cats hibernated in the winter they way bears do.  The cold was rough on her old bones, particularly her back legs where Grey had stepped on her a few years ago.  She'd wake up achy, ache throughout the day and sleep sporadically as she tried to find a comfortable position. 

If only she were a bear.  She could spend the whole fall eating everything in sight without worrying about her svelte figure, crawl into a snug little den and sleep away the winter, waking up as the weather started to warm up.  Rudy even had her den picked out.  There was a shelf at the top of the closet in the big bedroom where the Mommy stored unused blankets.  It would be absolutely perfect.  She'd rearrange them so they were soft underneath and pretty much blocked the light while letting in fresh air.  Then she'd snuggle in and *poof* it would be spring. 

She sighed.  She wasn't a bear.  She didn't hibernate, and no amount of wishing would make it so.  She did tend to sleep more in the winter, especially if the Daddy was working a lot.  When people were home she felt obliged to keep to her post in the kitchen where she could monitor the comings and goings of the human and feline population.  Any sign of Fuzzy, and she'd sound the alarm, hissing and meowing at full volume.  She didn’t mind that the Daddy fed Fuzzy outside, but he was not supposed to come in and eat her food too.  It was bad enough that Daddy fed him and Loaf Cat her special cat treats, but she wasn't going to let him eat her delicious squishy food. 

Rudy also kept an eye out for burglars.  You never know when someone might break into the house and try to steal her cat toys, or even perhaps some of the humans' stuff.  She wouldn't much mind if they took things like books or papers, but she'd fight someone who tried to take the computer or the television.  She used those things and enjoyed them.   Sometimes she'd fantasize about what she'd do if a burglar came in.  She'd hiss and spit and meow really loud to let the other cats know there was a problem and then she'd wait until the burglar wasn't looking and then nail him in the back of the knees with both front paws, claws fully extended.  She didn't think any burglar could withstand that.  He'd go running from the house in pain and fear from fearless Rudy.  She sighed as she thought what might happen if the burglar didn't run away.  He might try to hurt Rudy - kick her, or even shoot her if he was the kind of burglar who carried a gun.  Realistically, Rudy thought she'd probably head under the bed if someone mean came in the house, but it was nice to imagine herself being a very brave cat. 

She looked at the calendar from where she lay.  January.  Early January.  More than three months until the first day of spring, and that wasn't guaranteed to be anything like warm.  The Daddy and Mommy had talked a few times about one year when it snowed all the way into May, and snowdrifts were as high as the doors on the cars.  Well, maybe she couldn't hibernate, but at least she could take a little nap now, and then after she woke up and had a little snack she could nap some more.  It was the next best thing to hibernation. 

1 comment:

Kendra Lynne said...

That's funny! Sometimes I wish I could go to sleep and not wake up till spring too. I also have three cats, but they're barn cats.