"We Just Can't Have Nice Things"
Updated: May 25, 2021
When you share your home with cats you give up all hope of having nice things like hair-free furniture, clothing, and linens. With five cats, you just raise your arms in surrender to ruined rugs, upholstery, and plants.
But who am I kidding? I happily give over to the chaos and wreckage because, oh man, do I love these felines: Sable, Sebastian, Sadie, Ruby and Chloe. I don't know why but five cats feels like the sweet spot. Four isn't enough and six is too many. So, we are contented.
Meet the Gang
Sable and Sebastian are litter mates and they couldn't be more different. We've nicknamed them Frick and Frack. Sable loves his people to the point of obsession. Sebastian is uber skittish and suspicious of anyone he hasn't seen in the last 24 hours.
Sadie is the mama of the bunch. She's round and squooshy. She loves to groom the others whether they want it or not. Pulling them into a death grip with her forearms she licks them until she is good and satisfied that they're clean.
Ruby is our parkour kitty (watch the video). She's what we call "all cat" replete with killer instincts and an open disdain for our desire to pet her. She is the mistress of the limbo, avoiding one's hand by making her back concave enough to dodge loving strokes.
Chloe, oh Chloe, our youngest and terminally cute. She plays a vigorous game of fetch with a rolled up ball of packing tape. She grabs houseflies out of mid-air and chows down. We call her Chatty Cathy because she carries on lively conversations with us.
Boredom Busters
I don't think it's hyperbolic to say that these goofballs have saved our sanity through the pandemic. Their playfulness, their cuddles, their antics. It all plays a part in reminding us that life is what it is and that there's always something to do when you're bored and stuck inside, like:
chewing on (non-toxic) plants
launching oneself onto curtains and slow-sliding back down with fully employed claws
leaping at and bouncing off picture windows in a futile attempt to get at the outdoor wildlife
re-odouring the pile of clean laundry left on the bed (my bad, clearly)
hunting down mice, catching them, and torturing them till the mice don't play anymore
exploring the scent of stink bugs and walking away (only ever happened once per cat)
sharpening claws on the furniture despite the proliferation of people-approved scratching posts
ask to be fed even though it's nowhere near meal time (repeat as desired)
kneading the softest flesh (stomach, thighs) on a human leaving little puncture marks that resemble an angry skin condition and then settle in somewhere else
hide under covers or behind doors then scare the bejesus out of whoever walks by
fall in the bathtub or toilet, panic, and then pretend you meant to do that
You know how you love to watch your children sleep because a) finally, they are asleep and, b) it reminds you why you love them so much, particularly after a trying day? It's similar with cats.
And because you can never have too many photos of cats, here's a final one.
