I am Entertained

Mistress and adult male spent some time this morning fixing the draperies in the living room. The length of fabric had fallen from the hooks that secured them to the rod above the windows. Mistress sat in the chair and directed adult male, who is of great height and thus able to reach the tops of the windows. While he worked, I sat on the window sill, admiring the winter sun outside and attempting to climb the draperies as they hung down while he adjusted the hardware. It was a change from my usual routine, which has become somewhat predictable.

I am Very Lonely

Mistress, the adult male and the young masters left me. They abandoned me on one of the coldest days. They left the house cold, too. I was so anxious that I explored the house very carefully, hoping to find one of them hidden in some room that I had not yet discovered. Unfortunately, all the rooms were as I had seen them before. There were no extra rooms, no family. I did, however, note that one of the floors, normally a cold, hard flooor of red tile, was inexplicably warm. They must have devised this to comfort me while they were gone.

They did arrange for a young lady -- they refer to her as "Rose" -- to visit the house once each day to provide me with food and water. But that is small compensation for the emotional anguish that I suffered. The identification of the warm floor, however, was an unanticipated bright spot.

And when they returned, some days later, I made certain that they knew exactly how sorely I had missed them.

I Have My Claws Clipped

Today mistress clipped my claws. This is not as big an event as it might appear, as she does this two or three times a week. She cuts one or two of my beautifully sharpened (on the basement stair carpet) claws each time. Her strategy, and a good one, is to approach me whilst I am asleep. By the time I have awakened enough to protest, she has pressed on my front toes to extend the claws and has quickly snipped. By the time I try to revolt, she is done.

It's a very clever strategem. I do not recommend it.

I Find a Warm Place

The humans have attempted to force me outside. This requires them to open both inside and outside doors, lift me (not easily accomplished), and toss me inelegantly out into the snow. They had the temerity to mention the cat next door, Foxy, a low creature but who looks very much like me. This is his only redeeming feature. Apparently Foxy likes to sit on the plowed driveway. The humans seem to believe that because Foxy is stupid enough to enjoy this, I should, too.

They do not appreciate my tender and sensitive feet or my unprotected ears. In any event, on the few occasions when they have succeeded in ejecting me from the house, I have merely remained by the door, crying in my most piteous voice. They relent quickly.

It is cold. The humans have a system for heating the house that they carefully monitor, keeping the temperature barely tolerable, even for a cat with my ample weight and coat. So I searched throughout the house to find a warm spot and was clever enough to locate the best possible place.

Mistress had constructed a bed for me near hers. It lies between a very hot thing -- they call it a radiator -- and a piece of furniture. However, at first the bed smelled like another cat. I suspect that she simply reused the bedding that had once belonged to the inferior felines who lived here before I moved to this place. At first I refused to use the bed. But then mistress placed two lovely wool sweaters on top of the bed. This dimished the smell of the unknown beast to the point where I could rest upon the sweaters. And now my smell -- far superior to that of the previous feline -- dominates the air around my bed. I like to rest here of an afternoon or evening, when the humans are at home and have increased the amount of heat produced by their system, making the radiator by my bed wonderfully warm.