Oxbow's World

Sometimes when you feel lonely or bored you just need to dig deep and find a new perspective. And that’s just what I did this past weekend, when Those Two took another one of their trips and left me all alone — well, mostly alone.

You see, this photo was taken by my wonderful pet-sitter, Bobbie, who stopped in to look after me on the one day when my mamas wouldn’t be home during any part of the day.  I was down on that floor, grooving on catnip and relishing her company, when it suddenly dawned on me: I am really loved! And I mean LOVED!

How many other cat parents would bother to get a sitter for just a short weekend trip? Most would say, “He/she will be fine for the weekend,” and would simply add an extra cup of dry food to the bowl, maybe an extra scoop of litter to the box, and head for the car without a second thought. No biggie. But my mamas know that I’m kind of a needy boy, and that I get really lonely when they’re not around.

So thanks, You Two, for being so attentive to my needs and forking out some extra dough to make sure I’m happy while you’re away.

My mamas tell me sometimes that I would be a real “lady-killer” if I were a wild cat. But of course I’m strictly an indoor cat, and I don’t really spend much time thinking about the ladies. I have other priorities: napping, eating and hunting bugs. I think that surgery I had when I was young has something to do with it, too.

But every now and then I will see a lady cat who turns my head and leaves me questioning my priorities. Such was the case a couple of days ago when Mama G’s friend in Germany sent her a photo of her newest cat, a Bengal named Betty.

All I can say is, grrrrrr!!!

Well there was another late-night New England Patriots game last night, and I’m happy for my mamas that the Patriots beat the Denver Broncos, 41-16. This time Mama C had the good sense to go to bed at halftime, since she had to get up early this morning to go to work. Mama G mostly stuck it out, although I think I heard a few snores toward the end of the game.

I was in another room, curled up on the back of the loveseat. You see, I don’t really have much interest in football. Those Two have tried to get me interested, in my own way (c’mon, talk about Deflategate — look at that pathetic old pigskin!).

I did start last night’s game in the same room with them, but that obnoxious whinnying horse noise blaring from the PA system in the Broncos’ stadium was just too much for me and I retired to the living room.

I guess if I had to pick a favorite team, it would be the Detroit Lions, for obvious reasons. But I couldn’t let Those Two know. It would cause quite the uproar!

So I’ll put such traitorous thoughts aside and continue to act like a true patriot, if for no other reason than I get awfully hungry in the morning.

 

My wonderful godmother Joyce sent a copy of this ad to my Mama G, with the best of intentions, I’m sure. But despite my recent advances in being sociable with strangers, I just don’t think I’m ready for Santa. Maybe next year, Joyce!

Until then, happy holidays!

 

Well I seem to be on some sort of a roll. Earlier this week I wrote about the small step I took in overcoming my fear of storms. And today I took a giant leap in overcoming my fear of visitors.

I like to think I’m “man” enough to learn from my mistakes, and you may remember my remorse back in August after I hid from Mama G’s niece and her family during their entire visit. I felt really bad afterward, and I didn’t want to repeat that experience.

This weekend my Grandma C is visiting, and I couldn’t be happier! I know my mamas were expecting to be embarrassed again, considering how much they boast about me, but I’ve been wowing them with unexpected displays of sociability. Of course it helps that Grandma C always seems to be wielding a treat or two, but that isn’t the entire story, because even after I gulp those down, I keep hanging out with everyone. She just seems like a fun addition to our house.

If this keeps up, I could be a real party animal someday!

That was some storm last night, wasn’t it? The wind was screaming through the trees and the rain was lashing our house, and where was I? In my new “safe space.”

Previously during times of stress I would hide in the basement in a little gap between a bookshelf and the ceiling. The only part of me that would be visible were a few tufts of fur. But I recently learned how to open the bifold doors to the laundry pantry and I find comfort in a spot next to the clothes dryer.

So now during times of crisis I’m at least upstairs. Last night I even poked my head out a few times to see what Mama G was up to. It might not seem like much, but it was a big step for me.

I think personal growth is like that: it sometimes occurs in small increments and you have to celebrate each little victory.

And on a side note: Isn’t it ironic that the place where Those Two store their cleaning tools is filthy? But then I guess I shouldn’t talk, because there I was, seeking shelter from the storm atop a bug zapper.

 

 

 

 

 

I’m a very easygoing guy, and I let my mamas get away with far more than most cats would. But there’s one thing I really don’t like, and that’s having my nails clipped, as you can probably tell from my body language here as Those Two prepare to commence with the job.

In the end, I just chalk it up to one of those unpleasant chores we all endure. I may resist and squirm a bit, but I let them do it without inflicting injury. I know there will be treats afterward.

 

There I was last night, waiting in bed for Mama C to shut out the lights and join me at the usual time. But she was nowhere to be found. Apparently there was this thing called Sunday Night Football, and her favorite team was playing, so she was late to bed, though it was what humans call a “school night,” even if they’re too old for school.

I waited and waited. I groomed myself and killed time in other ways, before I finally gave up and went to sleep on my own, with the lights on.

About the only good thing I can say is that the New England Patriots won, so Mama C slept well. But I still prefer afternoon games, even though I don’t understand the game at all.

 

 

Well I just love a story with a happy ending, especially one that involves an animal shelter. As you may remember, I was born in a shelter and eventually adopted, then returned later to that very same shelter before I was adopted again and found my current happy home.

But so many animals who end up in a shelter do not have happy endings, particularly those who are older or who have disabilities. Go figure, but in the case of cats, everyone seems to prefer a curtain-shredding kitten to an older and wiser cat!

Anyway, Mama G has a very good friend named Fran. They go waaaay back. They’re the kind of friends who might not have contact for many months, yet the minute they get together, it’s like they’ve never been apart. A true friend indeed.

Fran recently lost her cat of many years, Charlie Marie. The grieving process is different for everyone, of course, but fortunately for one cat, it didn’t take Fran long to work through the process. And now one 9-year-old, deaf cat, shown above, who was certainly not high on the list of adoption priorities, has a new home. Her new name is Bella, which means “beautiful” in Italian.

And it’s a beautiful thing for sure when a cat who otherwise wouldn’t have been adopted finds a loving home. Thank you, Fran, for being such a wonderful friend to humans and animals alike.

I hear there are humans who get paid good money, especially by corporations and government, to basically distort the truth. It’s called “spinning” the news.

If I were human, I don’t think I’d like this job, no matter what the paycheck, nor would I like to be part of the permanent press and have to listen to the propagandists as they repeatedly try to smooth over every new wrinkle in their company or government’s best-laid plans. I’m just too delicate and gentle for that kind of nonsense. Besides, my sense of humor is way too dry.

It’s much easier to just be a cat. But please, don’t close that door.