Jess - Whiskers at Dawn

Jess and G. My two girls.

 

 

A story of our cat who died peacefully sleeping on my chest last night age 16. First posted 2010


A paw lands softly on my thigh. I look down from the laptop where I sit blogging away insomnia and am met by two huge luminous green eyes engaged in unblinking human contemplation in return. She is beside my chair here at the kitchen table, illuminated by the glow of the lamp which is the only light in the room. She stands on back legs, holding herself erect with her right paw against the chair seat, leaving the other to deliver a gentle tap to the top of my thigh which is feather soft  yet by its very softness, reminds me that there are claws behind it which can be deployed against tender flesh if needed.  The eyes narrow and a pair of whiskered white cheeks move as they funnel a quiet, soft and manipulative miaow in my direction as she repeats the movement, emphasised by a slight deepening of those same green eyes, an act which only seems to increase their concerned impact.

Jess has arrived.

I left her sleeping beside The Lovely G a couple of hours ago when my twisting and turning threatened to wake them.  {experience has taught me that waking either of them in the middle of the night isn't a plan to be described as good.}
I murmur 'good morning' as I reach down and scratch behind her ears. Her head tilts against my palm and fingers with approval, turning and twisting to achieve the desired effect as we exchange greetings, her and I together for a mutually pleasant moment or two before I leave her and turn back to coffee and computer. She sits back down beside me and as I begin to type I wonder if she will head to the utility room a few yards away where I have already filled her bowls with food and fresh clean water.

Engrossed in what I am doing I'm startled when she appears sitting beside my elbow, a place and position she has reached in one with an impressive and silent leap. Not bad for an old lady. She contemplates me anew and surveys the content of my efforts. She's not in the least impressed and purrs a few suggested improvements in my direction, nudging my arm to hint that perhaps I should get started on them right away. As I obey she rubs an approving cheek against my bicep with her eyes fixed on the screen to make sure of typo-free amendments before resting her head on my shoulder as I carry on typing and reviewing, typing and correcting, in my stilted two handed, four/sometimes five/rarely six - fingered typing style. Approval is purred directly into my ear.

Job done she is bored now and stands to step over my right forearm into the circle of me and computer, standing full, obliterating my view and turning, tail raised, to show me proudly how clean her bottom is.

"Aye, very nice Jess! Lovely! Thanks for that."

She turns and repeats the maneuver from the opposite direction as if  to show the effect is the same from any angle before folding herself into a curled position with her back against my chest, stretched out from left to right round the support of my arms. She proceeds to raise a front paw and begin her morning ablutions by fastidiously running her teeth through the fur of her forearm and licking the tug free area back down to run in the right direction. She stops and looks at me for a second, not understanding or caring that this is not the best place she could be doing this - in my humble opinion. "After all," she seems to say,  "what could be better than writing about a cat - and you only ever see what's right under your nose!"

I continue to write, half-heartedly now as I watch her, engrossed in contortions to reach each and every recalcitrant hair, impressed by her methodology and feline thoroughness as she clears tugs and straightens hair, moving on to the next only when catty approval is reached after close inspection. I find myself wondering if she would be equally impressed with my own shower technique.
Probably not.......

I reach for my coffee to find it's cold. Time has moved on and dawn is softly pushing a hint of pale amber through the window at the end of the kitchen. I'm suddenly tired and Jess is looking expectantly at me once again. Even before I move for the light switch she is up and moves to sit at the door to hall and stairs. Her eyes turn to me once more as she steps aside to let me pass. As I take the stairs to the bedroom she is two steps behind. Somehow I know how a sheep feels being herded expertly towards its pen by a collie dog.

I know my place.

By the time I have shed my clothes and climbed quietly into bed beside my Lovely G,  Jess is already there, curled in a ball and apparently just as deeply asleep as when I left them a few hours ago.

Bloomin' cat!

A Small Expression Of Disgust.

Don't even look at him.

Jess butts her head against my fingers as I rub her neck and shoulders, gently massaging a loud purr of appreciation from her as we spend a companionable minute or two together. She's been restless this morning, repeatedly wandering in and out of the kitchen and its attached utility room where Jess has her bed, food and litter tray. Her litter tray is one of those big covered ones with a flap so she can get in and out. We bought it after noticing that if she was using her tray and either of us went in to the utility room or even passed by the door, Jess would immediately get back out. Obviously she's a sensitive wee soul and, being somewhat the same myself when it comes to privacy, I felt sympathy. The covered litter tray has worked a treat for a few years now and she's been much more relaxed.

If there is a down side it is - how should I put it? Maybe "out of sight, out of mind" would best cover the occasional slip between The Lovely G and I which has meant that there's been the odd dip in regularity of cleaning up and this is what has happened today. Each of us thought the other had done the deed when the reality was that neither of us has leaving Jess with 'ants in her pants'.

Realising what's happened I get her little harness on her and put her out into the garden for a while carefully tethered to a tree via one of those extending leads. She has some history as a runner in her earlier years and now she's a bit older and more fragile I'd prefer not to leave it to chance that the wanderlust doesn't take her again. Anyway, the fierce winds of the last couple of days have gone and it's not too cold, not for one with a built in fur coat anyway. As I leave her, with a promise that I'll be back in a wee minute or two once she's done her business. she looks at me with a 'Really?' kind of glance. I look at the darkening sky and say, "I know. It's going to rain soon. You just do your business and I'll be back in two shakes of a cats tail."

Forty five minutes later I look up from my cup of coffee. " Aw no! Crivens jings and help ma boab I've left wee Jessie outside! Even as I make my way to the patio door I can hear the rain pattering against it and as I slide it open and step out I can see a small white and brown nose  and two huge eyes peeking out at me from beneath the hedge at the back of the garden. I make apologetic and encouraging noises as I cross the garden towards her and she comes out from under the hedge at a fair speed. She's not completely soaked, not 'drookit' by any stretch of the imagination but she's a bit damp  {he says trying to make himself feel a bit less guilty}.  Ok - she's completely 'damp'.

We meet by the apple tree and I unfasten her from her leash so she can head back indoors but oddly she stands there looking at me with what I can only describe as feline disgust dripping from every whisker before taking four or five slow deliberate steps towards the house. With each step she lifts a paw and gives it a shake, spraying small droplets of water around her. The air is heavy with indignation as I follow her dripping tail back to the patio door, rushing to make sure she's not kept waiting at the door. My own tail is firmly between my legs as I slide the door aside and she steps up and into the house, making straight for where The Lovely G is sitting at the table. Jess stops directly in front of her and sits down as if to say " Look what this pillock's done to me!" before reaching a soggy paw up to pat her thigh for emphasis. She gets a sympathetic look and noise from G as I return from the far side of the kitchen with some paper towels which I use to rub her dry under G's disappointed gaze..

Jess arches her back and moves huffily away from my towelling ministrations and starts rearranging all the fur I've managed to disrupt on her back and flanks. I can see I'm going to be ignored for the rest of the afternoon. I can see G eyeing me up too.

I wonder what the cat equivalent of the dog house is?

I'd better get in it right now.

But should I clean out the litter tray before I go?

See you later.

Listening to

Sleepy Time.

I roll over in the dark not knowing what time it is but knowing with complete certainty that I will have to get out of bed. The curse of getting older seems to be that nocturnal visits to the loo are commonplace. While that's as may be it that doesn’t mean I have to like it, especially since it’s not my insomnia that’s wakened me or is keeping me awake but my bloated bladder. At the side of the bed the alarm clock taunts me with its tick, tick, tick – counting down the seconds to when I can't take it any longer and will have to head for relief. It’s not fair; the bed is warm and the room is, well the room is almost baltic as we say over here and I know I’m going to freeze despite going and coming back in jig time. Sometimes you just know that you’re more sensitive to cold than others and this is one of those nights. I’m snug in bed. I’m warm and cosy.

Bugger!

I groan and test the temperature by sticking a foot from beneath the covers, hoping that the icy tip of my nose is lying to me. Christs teeth! It’s freezing! I decide that I can wait a while longer. Maybe I could even get back to sleep.

Ten minutes later as I pull the flush on the toilet I shiver and silently berate myself for not getting up when I should have – and for sleeping in the buff.  If I’d got up I’d probably be warm and snug back in bed – maybe even fast asleep! The thought doesn’t make me feel any better. I wash and dry my hands and close the door behind me, making my way back to the bedroom by the low glow of the night light on the upstairs landing. {Is this yet another sign of getting older I wonder – that I prefer to have a night light on for my nocturnal avoidance of a stubbed toe rather than suffer the momentary harshness of a newly switched on ceiling light?} I reach the bedroom door and in the gloom Jess’ eyes spark catty disapproval at being disturbed yet again by my return. I give her a withering look in return but she’s closed her eyes to my insignificance and, with a disparaging sigh, cooried closer in to the Lovely G.


I grope my way along the foot of the bed and a few steps later slip gratefully back under the covers. Not too gratefully mind you as somehow the bed has become freezing in my short absence and, while I normally love getting into a cold bed, tonight it’s murder.  I slide myself back towards the warmth emanating from the Lovely G but make the mistake of expecting a warm reception. Instead I get a groan and a dig in the ribs as she pushes me away, still deep in sleep. Frustrated, I move back to my own side – and the cold.

Jings!

An hour and a half later I’m still trying to get to sleep. Time needles me as it escapes from the clicking clock again with it's taunt that I have to be up for work soon. Beside me Jess and the Lovely G both purr contentedly and I seem to have lost most of the duvet - all the warm bits anyway. Morning creeps in through the slit of the open window as I grit my teeth and pull the duvet determinedly tight around me and try to force sleep on myself but I know it’s not going to work. It’s still freezing out there.

And I have to go to the toilet.

Again! 

I hate this getting older lark.................

See you later.

Listening to:

And What About Us?

The lovely G sits with her legs stretched out in front of her in front of the full length cheval mirror in the corner of our bedroom. Fully dressed, she has her head cocked to one side brushing her hair as Jess rubs herself backwards and forwards across the small of her back. Across the room I have head and shoulders deep in the built-in wardrobe as I hunt for a T-shirt and a pair of socks, but pull-back when I realise she's speaking. I've learned after years of tuition that it's better and less painful to pay attention at all times - or at least to appear to. That doesn't mean that I understand all the time of course. I am just a bloke after all.

 I look across at her. 

She reaches one hand out to touch the base of the cheval mirror.

 "You know, if all I had was just this, the pine chest, the craft table, my laptop, I-player and my log (I know she's talking about a table - top driftwood candleholder which I bought her for Christmas, gaining mega brownie points.... ) I'd be quite happy living without anything else."

Jess sits down and looks at her for a moment before looking at me.

I look back and then at G.

" And what about us?"

"Well, ah - erm - yes, of course – I mean you and Jess as well."

Jess looks back at me and yawns a wide mouthed catty yawn that ends up looking like a smile. I grin back.

"I should think so too! Eh Jess?"

Jess stands, turns to G and butts her on the bicep before starting to rub herself against her again.


A thought occurs.........

"Ummm - Can I bring the bed along?"


Still rubbing herself against G's back Jess is looking directly at me.


".....and the cat food."

See you later.

Listening to; Eddie Vedder - Without You

The Sunday posts 2012

"Felis Cattus” is your taxonomic nomenclature:
An endothermic quadruped, carnivorous by nature.
Your visual, olfactory, and auditory senses
Contribute to your hunting skills and natural defenses.
I find myself intrigued by your subvocal oscillations,
A singular development of cat communications
That obviates your basic hedonistic predilection
For rhythmic stroking of your fur to demonstrate affection.
A tail is quite essential for your acrobatic talents:
You would not be so agile if you lacked its counterbalance;
And when not being utilized to aid in locomotion,
It often serves to illustrate the state of your emotion.
Oh Spot, the complex levels of behavior you display,
Connote a fairly well-developed cognitive array;
And though you are not sentient, Spot, and do not comprehend,
I nonetheless consider you a true and valued friend.

'Ode to Spot'
by Lt. Cmdr. Data

Photo of Jess by Alistair

Just Like That

Sometimes, so just like that ........


Really..........

Cat-A-Lyst

Hullo ma wee blog,

Outside the open bedroom window the sound of wind penetrates the darkness. Lying here comfortably in bed (for a change) I listen to its sound as it hisses, swirls and gently swishes around the corner of the house. The trees around the garden add a leafy sibilance as they shudder and shake like they've done across the whole windy day today. Tomorrow gales are forecast across Scotland as we experience the tail end of the hurricane that hit America recently. In all likelihood high winds will mean a bumper crop of windfall fruit from the apple and pear trees for the kitchen and probably enough to be shared out between the neighbours too.

Sleepily I decide a trip to the toilet is in order and gently slip out from under the covers. Comfortable in the darkness, I step around the bed and head towards the door which is slightly ajar to allow Jess to come and go during the night as she pleases. As I pass the end of the bed I see her rise up from the folds of the duvet in the murky light and, as I reach her, she jumps down between me and the door. I watch the white shape disappear around the impenetrable dark of the doors edge and I follow. She walks in front of me, a white splodge in the darkness that leads me along the hall and stops just beyond the bathroom door where the shape changes as she sits down, efficiently marking the point where I should turn to open the bathroom door. As usual I keep the lights off and the moonlight coming through the bathroom window is more than enough to see by. A moment or two later I turn off the tap and dry my hands before opening the door back out into the landing. The ghostly shape sits patiently waiting until the door opens and then leads me back to the bedroom. I follow a few sleepy paces behind, not quite closing the door fully behind me as I enter. A small gurn of effort tells me that she's lept back up onto the bed even before I hear the airy puff of her landing on the duvet beside the sleeping shape of G.

I climb carefully back into bed beside my wife's sleeping form but I can tell from the lack of movement when I try to pull the duvet over me that Jess is there waiting for her reward. As I prize enough duvet back from beneath her to cover my less than sylph-like figure, she steps forward until, by the time I'm successfully covered, she is by my chest. I roll onto my side facing her and after a second she sits down and lowers her head toward me. A loud purr starts when I reach out to rub her shoulders and neck and after a few seconds she collapses against me while I close my eyes and continue massaging. As penances go it's quite therapeutic really.

Some time later I wake.

Jess is still beside me, silent now and fast asleep tucked against my chest. It takes me a moment to realise what has wakened me. The room is silent. There's no sound of wind beyond the window. I listen for what seems like only a few seconds before the distinct patter of raindrops on the pantile roof drifts back to me. In the perfect silence it has an oddly musical quality that is very hard to describe, but somehow seems close to the sound of a wooden xylophone being struck by knitting needles. I lie musing on the image I've just created in my head and can't stop feeling that it's accurate as the sound of rain gets heavier and the noise of raindrops on the window and frame is added to the quietly building cacophony.

I reach out to Jess and she begins to emit a pattering sound.

Outside,  the rain purrs down.

See you later.

Listening to:

It's Got To Be Purr-fect

Hullo ma wee blog,

It's late. 

I'm cold and I’m tired. This isn’t surprising since it’s silly o’clock in the morning and the house has been quiet for hours, soon after My Lovely G had come to kiss me goodnight, yawn and make her way upstairs to bed, taking time to perform her nightly ablutions before switching off the lights in the hall and closing the bedroom door, leaving me to follow on behind when I feel I'm tired enough to make sleep a possibility. In the past weeks I've tried every combination and convolution of routine in trying to find a way to get a decent night's sleep. Despite this, I've not found a consistent solution to the problem. Eventually, to avoid waking my lovely G with my constant tossing and turning, I've resorted to staying up until tiredness hits me. Sometimes, that's four a.m. Tonight it's a little better.

Several hours have passed since G went upstairs and eventually weariness has begun to set in making me think that perhaps I should head upstairs and try to get some rest. I close down the computer, get up from my chair, collecting the coffee cup from earlier in the evening as I go, and head towards the kitchen where I rinse the cup and leave it on the draining board to dry before going to the utility room to spend a moment or two saying goodnight to a sleepy Jess who is warm and comfortable in her basket. She purrs loudly in response to my hand on her shoulder and neck and watches me with large eyes as I massage her for a second or two while I murmur goodnight sleepily at her. After a few moments I turn away towards the door but before I get there a plaintive meow follows. I turn back to find Jess, now fully awake, is in the process of stretching and rising to a seated position. Seeing she has my attention she meows again more forcefully. Clearly she wants to come with me. I hesitate, worried that if she comes upstairs now she's awake she'll be disruptive and need to be brought back downstairs which in turn will disrupt me from any chance of sleep, but decide despite that to take her with me. I give her a look that I hope shows my concern by way of a warning in the hope of good behaviour and say, "Aye, okay." I pull the door open and stand aside as she struts along the edge of the work surface with her tail held up in triumph before jumping down to land lightly at my feet. She takes a few steps towards the door into the hall and sits politely down to wait as I close the utility room door behind me and reach towards the light switch. As I open the hall door she slips through before me and heads towards the stairs, pausing momentarily to look back at me as if for permission, before she begins to climb. I close the door quietly behind me and follow on, switching off the light downstairs as I go.

Jess sits waiting facing the bedroom door as I climb the stairs. Despite the look she gives me that clearly says she feels she's been patient enough, I turn away from her and head towards the bathroom. After a few minutes of tooth brushing I'm ready and head back towards the bedroom. Jess is still there, although now she's facing towards me and has her back to the bedroom door. "If only cats could frown" comes to mind as I walk towards her. I give one final look to warn/beg for good behaviour as I open the door and once again she slips ahead of me into the darkness. I hear a sound, a small puff of air that tells me she's lept up onto the bed beside My Lovely G as I walk round to my side of the bed peeling off T-shirt and trousers before eventually climbing under the duvet. I pull it up across my shoulder and sigh with contentment, realising that sleep is a real possibility.

Instinctively when I go to bed I reach towards my lovely G and usually spend a few minutes caressing her back, shoulders or hips and tonight is no exception, even at this late hour. Touching her reminds me how cold I really am. I'm absolutely freezing. Tonight, my roaming hand also serves to raise a groan from the sleeping silhouette beside me and she turns towards me, reaching out to clasp and pull me towards her. She holds me to her skin in a burning embrace that instantly begins to force heat into my body. It feels incredible. She takes a deep breath, sighs contentedly and kisses my cheek. Her hand presses against my shoulder indicating that I should turn around, and as I do so she slips closer behind me and I'm held by a gentle arm across my waist. The heat of her pours into me and the cold slips out. I groan in deep satisfaction and, as the heat penetrates, I feel myself almost literally fall backwards towards sleep. 

I feel Jess gently (for once) move across my legs and up towards my chest. She sits momentarily before collapsing softly against me and I begin to feel her heat seep through the duvet and chase the last vestiges of cold from my chest. 

I smile as she begins to purr. This time, I know I'll be joining her shortly.

Purrfect........

See you later. 

Listening to:

Cat-a-tonic.

Hullo ma wee blog,

I wake slowly not wanting to be released from the warm and comfortable oddity of knowing I'm in bed and  asleep. As I come slowly up through layers of gentle awareness and away from the dream state, layers of sound come to the fore; raindrops softly pattering the velux window across the room; slow drips from the underside of the window frame hitting the metal flashing at the joint of the red pantiles of the roof. Beyond these sounds comes a stir of wind and an early birds sing-song, close yet muted by distance and the rain, the kind of gently dropping rain that I hear my father's deeply distinctive voice in my head call  'just a wee smirr' in that broad Scots dialect he used. I smile with the memory and let my mind follow the sound out of the window through the rain and I concentrate on the birdsong as it warbles and undulates across the garden from the branches of one of the plum trees there. The sound moves up and down, a plaintive, thoughtful, appreciative hymn to a morning not quite started. Further out others take up the call. The jackdaw's caw from the mature trees beyond the next door cottage is for once not abrasive, but softened too in the air by distance and gentle rain. From the roof of the cottage a gull joins into this almost Disneyesque call to morning. In my minds eye I see it throw back its head and stretch its wings as it does so. Small birds cheep and the hens across the garden fence cluck from within their roost, eager to be out. I hear a birds scuttling feet on the roof tiles just outside the window.

I am awake.

My eyes open and register the soft grey of approaching dawn, the colours of the room undefined in the gloom, straight edges of the door and furniture still blurred and indistinct. The duvet is plumped around me and I see the outline of my Lovely G at my side. Beyond her lies Jess, visible only as a few blobs of ginger and black against the white of the duvet as her mainly white coat is also swallowed up despite the gently increasing palette now developing from shade. My movement has disturbed her slumber too, but not quite to the point of being awake. {Jess isn't an 'early bird' kind of cat} Still in her dream state she twists and stretches, ending up lying on her back, eyes closed, rear legs up and the pads of her back paws pointing to the ceiling. Her tail twitches languorously between her legs and she stretches out a paw beyond her head, splaying the pads and showing its claws as she does so, the other paw held close to her chest like a child with a doll. A deep sigh emits from her chest and slowly, slowly the outstretched paw relaxes until it rests on the duvet beyond her nose. Her tail starts a twitch but stills as she falls back into a deep sleep, one rear leg giving a minuscule spasm which lifts it a couple of centimetres before it too sinks slowly back to its former place. She snores, a small sound that brings a smile to my lips as I ease out of bed and silently collect my clothes, leaving both sleeping bodies behind.  I take one last look in at them before pulling the door closed behind me and turning to head downstairs to the computer and the luxury and comfort of an early morning coffee.

I can't take the grin from my face as I open the door to the kitchen.

Magic. Pure and simple. Magic.

Listening to this: An early morning favourite wakener.

The Cat Who Stares At Postmen

Life's tough you know

Hullo ma wee blog,

Jess was in mischievous mode. She'd been a pain this morning wanting attention all the time when I have things to do. She kept me awake half the night too, tramping on my head and vulnerable bits whenever I tried to fall asleep while she was determined that I would be more usefully employed as a cat masseuse. Each time my hand stopped for more than a moment she would nudge it, slide a nose under it and try to force it back into its position on her neck and shoulders. If this was unsuccessful she would stand and walk meaningfully up my side to look me in the face where she would decide whether to walk on my head or just apply a judicious splat with a splayed paw. Once or twice she rested her paw on my cheek as if to remind me that she could just as easily be doing this 'with' claws as 'without'. Sometime during the night my groans and pushing her down the bed had won the battle if not the war and she had settled herself down to reserve her strength for another time.

Her attentions in the night ensured that I too slept through my normal 4am sojourn to the coffee pot and now here I was at a much more reasonable time, sitting by the computer at the kitchen table checking mail, drinking coffee and checking out my blogger pals latest posts. Jess was occupied in the hall where I could hear her tearing around after the orange coloured ball she was trying to destroy. I heard the sound of claw on carpet giving acceleration to a furry body and the collision with an object that was ultimately too difficult to keep pinned down, the frantic scrabble to recover it leading to the next headlong charge the length of the hallway and the sound of that same ball being batted against doors and skirtings up and down the place. There was a moment's silence and I looked up to see Jess come proudly into the kitchen, chest heaving, tail high and with a wild look on her face that told me she had enjoyed the chase. She looked at me for a second with that same wild look before suddenly turning and going into a crouch, a quiver running from shoulder to tail and she was off again in a manic dash back through the door to give the poor ball yet another doing.

A few minutes later she came back yet again with that same gleeful air of  'That showed it who's boss!' and slumped down on her side on the kitchen carpet,  raising a leg to get to that irritating hair that needed to be licked flat. Job done she stretched out, the last two inches of tail flicking behind. As I watched, the tail kept up its excited flicker in contrast to the seemingly comatose feline it was attached to. A moment later a noise attracted her attention and she raised her head and shoulders until she lay there like a mini-me lioness in the midday sun, ears pricked and a study of concentration on her face. At the bird feeder outside the kitchen window three or four sparrows were noisily negotiating a pecking order for the seeds du jour. Although she could hear the commotion she couldn't see the bird feeder as the breakfast bar was in the way but in a fluid motion she was up and pressed against this side of it as she made her way swiftly to the corner for a peek. In another second she had gone behind the vegetable rack and was crouched down behind that toolbox I really should have put back out into the shed by now where she watched the birds for a while. Once she was sure they hadn't spotted her and were engrossed in their argument she slinked out over the top of the toolbox and, still pressed against the floor, worked her way around the edge of the cooking area under cover of the units until she was able to sit directly below where the feeder was located. Another moment or two of Zen-like mind control and she quivered her tail, lowered her shoulders and, using the not inconsiderable power of her hind legs, launched herself up onto the work surface where in one complete move she thrust herself at the window aiming to scare the bejeesus out of those bloomin' sparrows.

Unfortunately by the time she'd done this our friendly postie had her face to the window to give me a cheery wave good morning and they ended up nose to nose at the window. I really don't know who was the most surprised. Was it the postie who disappeared in a wave of expletives and discarded letters? Or was it Jess who seemed to explode into a giant, hissing furr-ball, do a complete back somersault off the worktop to land less than gracefully on the tiled floor before tearing off out of the kitchen door at a velocity just below the speed of sound.

Honestly, I have no idea.

Hasn't half been quiet around here for the last couple of hours though!

Result!


Listening to

Dances with Cats.............

Who? Me?

Hullo ma wee blog,

Jess isn't at all pleased to have been relegated to the utility room overnight. As far as she is concerned she's perfectly entitled to share our bed each and every night. Why should we complain if she likes to lie between us curled tightly into a ball while leaching the heat of our combined bodies into her fur coated self? What does it matter if by doing this she has taken all the spare duvet and sensitive parts of our anatomies are exposed to the still cold night time air? So what if she decides that she can't sleep during the night and wants to walk to and fro across sleeping heads or stomp across sleeping shoulders or hips. Shouldn't we be happy to be wakened so we can spend quality time with her at 3a.m?  Why should we care if we can't sleep because she has decided to tear up and down the stairs and the hall outside our bedroom door in the middle of the night or has just found that ball she misplaced earlier in the day - the one she so needs to have a nocturnal game of  'rattle the skirting boards/chase round the darkened room' with? In her eyes these are minor considerations, small adjustments that have to be made to accommodate the most important and singularly feline member of our threesome family. It's only fair isn't it? Just look at all the pleasure and fun she brings to the party for goodness sake.....

And so for the last couple of weeks as the final part of our night time ritual she has been carried through to the utility room and her basket lined with cosy blankets and her well filled water and food bowls. She accepts this with a disgruntled, indignant and distinctly out-of-sorts look on her face. Clearly it's not fair that she should be treated in such an inhumane and callous manner as this. Instead of curling up in our arms as we do this, she hangs paws, legs and tail out in all kinds of awkward ways. Its like trying to carry a bucket of water without the bucket. She gurns, she whines and she grumbles. Not fair! Not Fair! Not Fair!

First thing in the morning - which is not Jess' best time of day - if she can raise her head she will make a great performance of greeting you in a tactic clearly meant to weaken your resolve. The Lovely G will often go down and open the utility room door and bring her up while she is getting ready for work. Jess uses this time to play the part of a friendly, well behaved and cutesy cat, rolling around the floor next to G as she dries her hair, doing all those stretchy, back curling, head-on-upside-down contortions that are guaranteed to make G smilingly turn and watch her as the hairdrier and straighteners get to work. While this happens Jess will make a fuss over G's discarded hair towel and pretend that the aroma of her peppermint shampoo is the best thing ever and is sending her into paroxysms of squirming, purring ecstasy as she wraps herself up in it.

But I see the plan in this. She's not fooling me for a minute.

She can go through all this performance for G but as soon as she's out the door for work I know that Jess will shortly head for one of the spare rooms to curl up on the bed in the morning sun where she will in all likelihood ignore me for a large part of the rest of the day until she wants the obligatory massage or some part of her anatomy scratching. Or occasionally she may decide to play a game we've come to call  'lets make Alistair think we've escaped'. {Jess is a house cat and is not allowed out due to her penchant for buggering off for days at a time or getting herself locked in sheds and outhouses and other out of the way places. This house-cat 'claws' is not part of the co-habitation contract that Jess has actually signed up to you understand, so she feels free to ignore this as and when she gets the chance. Any time Jess has managed to get out it also just so happens to be me that has been left in charge, which also - unfairly and completely without justification  =  it's my fault! Never mind that it's actually Jess who has decided to leave. What about free will and that?  Oh No, definitely my fault for leaving a door or a window open.......} The game of 'let's make Alistair think we've escaped' is actually quite traumatic for me, due to the unsavoury and completely disproportionate and extended consequences which I have been graphically told will rain down on my person should Jess actually ever escape my clutches again { honestly - it's only been once or four or five times - which is nothing really. Right?} This is a game which Jess has perfected to the level of a Jedi master. For days she will be somewhere in my peripheral vision or in my consciousness, just lying innocuously on a cushion, by the window, on the bed or somewhere that you would expect a cat to be. Sometimes she will disappear for a while, yet all I have to do is call her, or give a whistle and she will come trotting out of a room that I've already quickly looked in and dismissed as her not being there. Usually when this happens I'm downstairs again and look up to see a superior Jess at the top of the stairs, all white against the red carpet to emphasise how easy she is to spot, a question mark of a tail being held over her back as she leans a hip into the post of the banister in that oh-so-coy catty way. She might miaow a "Yes? You were looking for me?" comment but we both know what's going on here. Sometimes when I have been missing her and gone to look she will simply have vanished! That's when the game of 'lets make Alistair think we've escaped' commences.........

Plotting.

Last week she took the game to another, quite unexpected level altogether.

As you can imagine, timing is everything in a game like this. There's no point playing the game on a day when I've not been anywhere. Oh no, the game can only be played when I've been out and about; perhaps when I've been {ahem} working in the garden and have come in and out of the house multiple times. For best impact the game also should be played when there is a time constraint involved too to help rack up the tension, like when I have to leave to go somewhere, maybe to meet the Lovely G - that's always a good stresser - or best of all when the Lovely G is about to come home and I haven't checked where Jess is for an hour or so. The anxiety level that can be achieved playing the game under that condition can be quite exquisite. Just imagine for a moment: The house is clean and tidy, dinner is on the go, the Lovely G is due in through the door in twenty minutes when you realise that you haven't seen Jess for the last three hours. A quick check round every room in the house, including all the normal places where the game is played, has drawn a blank and you have been in and out of the house all afternoon pottering in the garden or shed or -whatever, that's not important - but you can feel the anxiety rise. Calls and whistles get no response.  Obviously the bloomin' cat's legged it, G will be home in  a few minutes and you're going to die! You have three options; you can get a jacket and go and look for her for a few minutes before coming back to face the wrath of hell; you can take a deep breath and calmly recheck each room thoroughly while mentally rehearsing your grovelling technique; or finally you can grab a jacket and just leg it yourself.

Now, potentially in this situation, Jess comes out the winner in all scenarios. The way I see it;  a} I can come home empty handed to find G is already there and can't find either Jess or I so she therefore knows something has happened; b} I can come home empty handed again, sweating and having palpitations with half formed excuses or explanations to find G home and waiting for me in the kitchen with a quietly smug Jess purring away in her arms which leaves me looking like a prize berk and Jess with the gold medal position on the podium and the champions belt;  or;  c} I search frantically and loudly  for 19 minutes before finding Jess curled up somewhere stupid like under blankets in a drawer under the bed, but I have to pretend to be calm and just quietly lift her and carry her downstairs while she purrs away pretending that she hasn't really been torturing me with this game again but has simply fallen asleep like any cat can do.;d]  the ultimate final ending is that my nerve has broken and I've just legged it and Jess now has G solely to her self for the duration and I live the rest of my life in fear and self loathing. I hate this game. With. A. Passion.

But the variation she played on me recently was very smart. Very cute! I was outside the other morning feeding the birds. I was just finishing filling the seeds into the bird feeders at the low table that I use for displaying pot plants in the summer when I had that feeling of being watched. I had my back to the house so I thought it was just that she was watching me from one of the patio doors, but the feeling grew stronger and I just had to slowly turn around to see what was making me so uneasy and there she was, four or five feet away, just sitting quietly watching me from her place about ten feet outside of the slightly open patio door! I thought I was going to pass out but in these situations you can't afford to give the game away - or scare her off - so with my heart in my mouth I just said  "Oh hello you. What are you doing over there then?"  and gave her a grin before turning back to the job. I carried on putting the lids on the filled feeders but all available sensory perceptions were directed backwards to try unsuccessfully to work out what 'madam' was doing when I felt a rub at the back of my legs and I looked down to see her looking smugly up at me. I reached down and picked her up before gently carrying her back into the house and closing the door behind us. Only when I did this did I realise that I hadn't breathed for probably several minutes. I sighed loudly then rubbed her neck for a moment and put her down and watched her walk off, but that wee swagger in her walk, that insolent tilt of the tail told me that she knew she had me, she knew I'd messed up and she could have punished me for it. "Now," it said eloquently, " you owe me."  That tail disappearing round the kitchen door also told me that it was time that Jess was allowed back up to bed at night - at least for a trial run.

So that night I quietly suggested that it would be nice to give Jess another go. I said I was quite missing her. I said that maybe she would have calmed down and she would go back to her old way of crawling under the duvet beside G and falling fast asleep for the whole night. G, grudgingly and surprisingly, said we could give it a go. Some time later after two hours of sleep the normal pattern resumed. Heads were trodden on, noses were squashed and there were moments when it felt like we were sharing the bed with a belly dancing hippopotamus. every now and then there would be a loud thunk as she jumped off the bed followed by a period of peace and quiet until you were just on the edge of blissful sleep when an impact like a badly coordinated penguin leaping from the icy deep onto the bed told you that her ladyship was back. Then the purring and the miaowing would begin. It didn't take long before G grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and stomped off downstairs with her, mumbling something about having to be up in a couple of hours and that not everyone could lie around sleeping or doing nothing all day long. {this is a bit unfair -I've no idea that Jess actually does that by the way - and she couldn't have been meaning me.}

This morning we were feeling a bit jaded from lack of sleep. G went through her morning routine on auto pilot and stumbled off in the direction of work and I went to the fridge in the utility room to get some milk as I badly needed that first cup of coffee. Even before I'd closed the fridge door Jess was out and sitting there on the kitchen floor, licking some imaginary bit of fur back into place and ignoring me with an air of complete insouciance. I stumbled to the kettle and put on some water and then back to the kitchen table and the laptop. No comments and few postings to check from the blogs I follow meant that almost immediately I had finished my start-up routine. I needed more coffee and time to get my plan for the day into action. As I headed for the kettle again Jess walked in front of me, getting in the way and earning an exasperated "Oh come on you! Get a move on!" While I made coffee she twirled round my legs then followed me back to the table and sat eyeing me pitifully as I gratefully sipped the strong second cup of the day.

"What the day needs Jess, is a bit of toast and another hour in bed. You up for that?"

Jess looked like she agreed. At least she would get to come up to the bedroom with me and have some quality one on one time. She'd been good yesterday and maybe a payback conciliatory massage was in order. As I headed out of the kitchen a few minutes later with a plate of toast and marmalade in one hand and yet another coffee in the other and a book tucked under my arm, Jess was just in front. She stopped and sat just in front of the bottom step and looked back with a quiet "meh" to check that I was actually coming, but didn't move as I got there. I stopped behind her and waited a second expecting her to move on but she didn't. I carefully stepped over her, intent on getting up there and had gone up maybe three or four steps and was reaching a slippered foot for the next when Jess shot past me, startling me and causing me to jerk my raised and slippered foot enough so that the slipper came half off. The movement came at the point of balance and I missed the next step, jarred my foot down and, realising that I was going down, began to tumble forward. With hands full I had limited options and ended up somehow doing a graceful pirouette, perhaps in an attempt to land neatly on my bottom, banging into the stairs, dropping the plate of toast, upending the coffee over myself and sliding non too gracefully down stairs until my feet touched the hall floor and stopped me. I wasn't hurt but rather startled and sat there for a second, glad I hadn't hurt myself, looking at the coffee stained crotch of my trousers and a plate which had deposited each of the four half slices of toast and marmalade face down on the carpet at my elbow. It was so absurd I laughed and looked up the stairs I had tried to climb.

What can I do to him next???

At the top stood Jess, white against red, with a question held in her tail, hip lent coyly against the banister post. We exchanged a lengthy and meaningful look.

" Miaow?"

I understood perfectly.

Bloomin cat!

See you later.

listening to

Sweet Bird of Youth......

Dreams elude me but thoughts twist and turn, whirling like birds on the wing through my head. It's cold outside but here, under the duvet, I'm snug.  Warm even. I stretch my legs and touch the warm body next to me momentarily. I feel the steady glow of their body-heat which reassures me. I know that if I get cold, if I have to get out of bed for instance, that I can slip back under the duvet and press myself against their heat and wait for it to pour back into my body. At the moment I have no plans to do that so I just relax, chill and enjoy the comfort as I slowly drift off, carried away on this delicious warmth.

Thoughts, like birds, migrate.

I drift away unsure if I'm dreaming or just thinking of my youth, running with the gang or playing rough and tumble in the garden with my brother and sister, my youthful nose sharp and full of smells that come back to me here in the night. I particularly remember the flowers but other things too, like how I used to play sneaking up on the garden birds, trying to be still, slow and quiet so I could get as close as possible before they saw me. I would burst out and watch them scatter with the unforgettable sound of their wings. It was so..... EXCITING. There were lots of birds in my childhood garden. I'll always remember the sound of wings, I'll probably even remember till I die. It's one of those thrilling sounds of childhood isn't it? I always loved that sound. I have great hearing, even now. I learned to tell what kind of bird it was just from the sound of their wings. Years later I can tell the different sound of a sparrow, or a pigeon or a starling by the sounds made as they fly by. I don't even have to look.  I was never much into music when I was young though. It was always around in the house of course but I never paid much attention. I was always listening though.  I could always tell who was coming into the room by the sound of their footsteps. I knew before they arrived. Sometimes my mother would pick me up and I would sit on her lap. Sometimes I would rest back against her and bathe in the smell of her perfume. It was intoxicating to a youngster and I would lie back and rest my head on her chest, listening to her voice rumbling, almost purring through her chest as she spoke to my father or someone else.

Bliss.

I realise that I've still not fallen asleep but have just been reminiscing. Maybe I should get up and have something to drink. And a biscuit. That would be nice. I quite fancy something with a bit of crunch to it actually and I know there are biscuits in the kitchen.  As I squirm over to reach for the side of the bed a toenail catches soft flesh. There's a wince and an immediate sharp intake of breath from across the bed before his voice comes back towards me.

Jess!

Jings, you need your claws cut!

Ow......that hurt.

Too late.

I'm already halfway down the stairs.

Keep the bed warm buster. I'll be baaaack.

see you later.

Four Thousand Years ago........

Hullo ma wee blog,

In ancient Egypt four thousand years ago cats were worshipped as Gods.

Jess thinks this should never have changed.

Get out of my way you bloomin cat!

I'm BUSY.......

{I'm going to get a dog. I really am.}

You Know What Rejection Feels Like When..........

Hullo ma wee blog,

My lovely G has been away on a course for her work over the last couple of days leaving me and Jess alone in the house. While it's not unusual for us to be alone during the day, it's highly unusual for us to be alone overnight too. Jess' reaction has been very amusing. After G failed to come home on the first night Jess clearly believed the fault to be mine and has studiously completely ignored me since then.

You know what rejection feels like when you're being ignored by a cat!

Jings........

See you later.

Whiskers In The Sun.......

Hullo ma wee blog,

Monday. A holiday here.

The lovely G and I are outside on the patio enjoying the late afternoon sunshine. It's been a warm day and we have just come back from a short trip down to the Holy Isle of Lindisfarne, about half an hours easy drive southward down the coast into England. There's a causeway out to the island which is often covered by the sea, but today the road was uncovered for most of the day which is good in one way as it meant we could spend as long as we liked there without keeping wary eye on the time but was unfortunate in as much as it gave hordes of others the same idea so the small island was fairly packed with tourists. Eventually we decided to shorten the trip after a short walk and some photo taking to come back here to the garden and the afternoon sun on the patio.

A Boat Shed

I'd  spent a moment or two uploading the photo's onto the laptop and getting us some drinks and a few nibbles to accompany them, just some Asti with lime, a favourite summer drink of ours and a few pretzels and crisps to add some salty tang. We both took a book out with us.  I'm reading Alexander McCall Smith's 'La's Orchestra Saves The World', a nicely paced, gentle wee tale of WWII which I'm enjoying so far.  I wiped down the glass top of the table and covered it in a washable yellow flower-print tablecloth, laid some napkins and coasters and laid out the drinks while the lovely G brought out Jess, long leash attached to her harness which we use to stop her running off as she's done in the past. Once attached to something solid she can be left to wander freely to the limit of the leash.

Earlier I'd put out fresh water and filled the bird feeders with seed and fat balls in their spots in the trees around the garden and the birds were busily occupied in taking advantage of the free buffet on offer, at least until Jess made her appearance. This led to a hasty retreat into the overgrown hedge by the gang of  young sparrows who have come to dominate the garden over the last few weeks. Once at a safe distance they began to harangue her but, not speaking the lingo, Jess wasn't too fazed by it. Eventually they calmed down and everything in the garden began to quieten. Jess sniffed around and chewed some fresh grass until, wrapping herself tightly around the chiminea, she could go no further. Once freed by the lovely G, Jess too began to take things easy and lay down on the concrete slabs of the patio which had been warmed by the sun. Soon she seemed to be fast asleep and we could turn our attention back to our books and to enjoying the warmth of the afternoon sun for ourselves. Cautiously at first the young sparrows began to come back to the feeders and enjoy the afternoon feast too.

A Cocky Wee Thing.

I read and sipped and nibbled for a while before turning to watch the comings and goings in the trees at the edge of the patio, enjoying the whirr of wings and the increasing bravery of the young blades of sparrow squadron as they became more and more focused on feeding and less on the presence of a startling white cat just a few yards from them. Jess also seemed to be enjoying the scene and appeared disinclined to do anything more than watch. As she did so, laid out on her side with her head raised towards the garden, she sniffed the air, her head slowly bobbing with each inhalation. She seemed to be content just to smell the air, with its scent of grass, herbs and assorted birds. Even when she found the heat of the paving slabs too much and relocated herself over on the grass by the trees, closer to the feeding birds, she was apparently not considered to be too much of a threat by the young sparrows who continued to fly in over her to get to the feeders. It struck me that calm and harmonious as the scene might be, if it was me who was risking life and limb flying in an out over a cat or ignoring it as I concentrated on stuffing my face, I would perhaps be worried and giving her some of my attention. Jess, who seems to be much less lively when on the end of a lead, ignored the comings and goings just a few feet above her head and appeared to have passed out in the warmth of the sun, only occasionally giving a twitch of her tail or raising a white whiskered head in half hearted complaint as a brave - or foolhardy - sparrow. zoomed by.

Peace and tranquility reigned. For a while at least..........

Yum........... when's my lunch

See you later.

Listening to Cherry Ghost, 'Mathematics'

The Pitiful Cat ............

Hullo ma wee blog,


I'm lying on the bed. It's late afternoon and The Lovely G and one of her friends are downstairs in the lounge watching a movie on DVD. Lorraine is here staying over and will help us celebrate the 1st August, Switzerland's national day, tomorrow when some of the family come for a special Swiss meal. Lorraine and The Lovely G went to Switzerland together for a short holiday late last year and since then she's been enthusing about all things Swiss to all and sundry, so we have naturally included her in the invite to this years family bash. I've left them to it as I still feel choked with this damned cold and am feeling, if not somewhat antisocial, that I don't want to be around people in case I pass on the dreaded lurgy. My flu has left me with a chesty wheeze which brings coughing fits when I lie down for any length of time.

I too have a DVD on up here and have been engrossed in the film 'Babel' starring Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchet when I become aware that Jess, who has been in the room with me for a companionable couple of hours, is lying watching my chest rise and fall and appears to be listening to the cacophony of wheezing, whistling and low groaning that is coming from me with every breath. My awareness of her has changed the rhythm of my breathing and she now looks back at me. She has what I think is a sympathetic look on her face, although I might be wrong. She is lying on my right a few feet away down the bed, head towards me and her tail contemplatively twitching across the last few inches of  its white and ginger tipped length. She slumps over onto her side and stretches both front paws out towards me, arching her back and stretching her spine as she reaches away with her back paws. In front of me her nearest paws spread themselves momentarily and show claws of gleaming sharpness as she yawns in an eye closing movement before twisting her head upside down to gain another perspective of me perhaps. She remains, one front paw stretched towards me, the other crooked back on her chest, tail curled questioningly in mid air, in an almost pantomime catty posture as she watches, watches, watches.

I smile and make a soft noise at her which causes her stretched paw to come even closer as she turns more into an inverted curl, lying on her back. The paw now moves down until it comes in contact with my thigh and, contact made, she pushes gently against the material of my trousers. She begins to purr softly as if to say "You're doing it all wrong! This is how it should sound!  It's easy - I can even do it upside down!"

I'm sure she's smiling at me.

blooming cat!

Whiskers at Dawn........

From the bedroom window.

Hullo ma wee blog,

A paw lands softly on my thigh. I look down from the laptop where I sit blogging away insomnia and am met by two huge luminous green eyes engaged in unblinking human contemplation in return. She is beside my chair here at the kitchen table, illuminated by the glow of the lamp which is the only light in the room. She stands on back legs, holding herself erect with her right paw against the chair seat, leaving the other to deliver a gentle tap to the top of my thigh which is feather soft  yet by its very softness, reminds me that there are claws behind it which can be deployed against tender flesh if needed.  The eyes narrow and a pair of whiskered white cheeks move as they funnel a quiet, soft and manipulative miaow in my direction as she repeats the movement, emphasised by a slight deepening of those same green eyes, an act which only seems to increase their concerned impact.

Jess has arrived. I left her sleeping beside The Lovely G a couple of hours ago when my twisting and turning threatened to wake them.  {experience has taught me that waking either of them in the middle of the night isn't a plan to be described as good.}

I murmur 'good morning' as I reach down and scratch behind her ears. Her head tilts against my palm and fingers with approval, turning and twisting to achieve the desired effect as we exchange greetings, her and I together for a mutually pleasant moment or two before I leave her and turn back to coffee and computer. She sits back down beside me and as I begin to type I wonder if she will head to the utility room a few yards away where I have already filled her bowls with food and fresh clean water.


Engrossed in what I am doing I'm startled when she appears sitting beside my elbow, a place and position she has reached in one with an impressive and silent leap. Not bad for an old lady. She contemplates me anew and surveys the content of my efforts. She's not in the least impressed and purrs a few suggested improvements in my direction, nudging my arm to hint that perhaps I should get started on them right away. As I obey she rubs an approving cheek against my bicep with her eyes fixed on the screen to make sure of typo-free amendments before resting her head on my shoulder as I carry on typing and reviewing, typing and correcting, in my stilted two handed, four/sometimes five/rarely six - fingered typing style. Approval is purred directly into my ear.

Job done she is bored now and stands to step over my right forearm into the circle of me and computer, standing full, obliterating my view and turning, tail raised, to show me proudly how clean her bottom is.

"Aye, very nice Jess! Lovely! Thanks for that."

She turns and repeats the maneuver from the opposite direction as if  to show the effect is the same from any angle before folding herself into a curled position with her back against my chest, stretched out from left to right round the support of my arms. She proceeds to raise a front paw and begin her morning ablutions by fastidiously running her teeth through the fur of her forearm and licking the tug free area back down to run in the right direction. She stops and looks at me for a second, not understanding or caring that this is not the best place she could be doing this - in my humble opinion. "After all," she seems to say,  "what could be better than writing about a cat - and you only ever see what's right under your nose!"

I continue to write, half-heartedly now as I watch her, engrossed in contortions to reach each and every recalcitrant hair, impressed by her methodology and feline thoroughness as she clears tugs and straightens hair, moving on to the next only when catty approval is reached after close inspection. I find myself wondering if she would be equally impressed with my own shower technique.

Probably not.......

I reach for my coffee to find it's cold. Time has moved on and dawn is softly pushing a hint of pale amber through the window at the end of the kitchen. I'm suddenly tired and Jess is looking expectantly at me once again. Even before I move for the light switch she is up and moves to sit at the door to hall and stairs. Her eyes turn to me once more as she steps aside to let me pass. As I take the stairs to the bedroom she is two steps behind. Somehow I know how a sheep feels being herded expertly towards its pen by a collie dog.

I know my place.

By the time I have shed my clothes and climbed quietly into bed beside my Lovely G,  Jess is already there, curled in a ball and apparently just as deeply asleep as when I left them a few hours ago.

Bloomin' cat!

You WILL obey me........

See you later.

Listening to;

Whiskers in the night............

Hullo ma wee blog,

I switched the lights off and crossed the hall to the stairs. It was late and The Lovely G had departed for bed hours before, followed conscientiously by Jess a few seconds later. Jess paused by the lounge door, yawned in a whisker stretching grimace and looked back as if considering whether to come back to her warm place beside me on the sofa, before turning and dutifully heading after her ladyship, her tail giving a dismissive flick as it disappeared silently from sight, leaving me to solitary TV.

By the time I was ready to follow it was later than late and I wearily went through some perfunctory ablutions in the bathroom before quietly creeping into the dark of the bedroom. As I entered, switching off the light on the upstairs landing as I did so, I could see Jess lying on the bed between The Lovely G and the edge of the bed nearest the door. She sleepily opened one critical eye to check that whoever was disturbing them had authority to do so and, permission granted, I left the door ajar so she could get to the kitchen and food or water or litter tray if needed during the night without disturbing us and padded silently across to the far side of the bed where I gratefully lifted the edge of the duvet to slip underneath.

I stretched comfortably out in the cold of my unoccupied side of the bed, revelling in what is, strange as it undoubtedly seems, to me one of life's little pleasures; cold, fresh sheets. I love to get into a cold bed and look forward to feeling warm within moments. I'm one of those people who seem to have a natural furnace which banishes cold rapidly - a trait that my wife also appreciates deeply and takes advantage of at every possible opportunity, being the complete opposite of me and hating even the thought of a cold bed. I have had to prise her from me, leech like, on countless cold nights to stop her putting me in meltdown mode before I manage to drop off. While I have to be relatively cool to have any chance of falling asleep, in bed she seems to prefer meltdown as a minimum temperature so I like to keep a little space between us when trying to sleep. Truthfully -  some nights I have prayed for a cattle prod to stop her homing in on me. It can be like trying to avoid a thermonuclear heat source sometimes, honestly!

As I lay there in the dark I thought again how lucky I was that she has never tried to persuade me to fit an electric blanket, even in the coldest of winters. To be honest, it's something I couldn't do anyway, and she probably realises that I would quite simply never be able to sleep in that artificially warm environment. {Not that I'd complain - much - of course} I relaxed, comfortable in the moment, enjoying the dark and the cold,  listened to the soft pattering of light raindrops on the velux windows of our bedroom, glad that I had put the garden to some semblance of order in the last couple of dry days. I felt Jess move on the other side of the bed, stretch in that impossibly supine feline way and give her characteristic little gurn of effort as she did so, before feeling her wade across the padded landscape of the duvet, heading in my direction. She stalked none too gently across my legs - it's strange how an animal can be by turns both incredibly delicate and a complete nightmare of a bruiser - and headed up towards my chest causing the duvet that was puddled loosely about me to tighten, marking each step of her progress towards me with an unwanted and restrictive pressure. Not wanting to wake G from her sleep I put out a hand towards Jess to stop her from coming all the way up to my face as was likely, she  firstly stopping suddenly with my movement, then coming forward to nuzzle my hand when she realised that it wasn't trying to swipe her off - what can I say - I'm petty when I'm tired. We exchanged greetings, human hand to furry face, and she sat down at the end of my reach to duck and twist her neck and shoulders to the massage that was on offer, switching on her powerful purr as she did so.

The grudging and somewhat lackadaisical massage continued for a while, encouraged by a gurn and a nuzzle when needed to keep the pace going, from an appreciative Jess who flopped comfortably down against me. It was clear that while I was beginning to fade, she had the benefit of a few hours sleep behind her to get her ready for a good old petting session. Soon my hand was being nuzzled more than it was massaging and Jess was clearly beginning to feel that one of us wasn't keeping their end up. She gave me a disgruntled "meh" and sat up, contemplating what should be the next move in invigorating the near comatose me, pulling the duvet tight across my hip as she did so, which caused me to wriggle sleepily to right the situation. Another gurn from Jess and she again walked in that duvet tensioning way to my face where she none-too-gently pushed a purry, furry head against a tired, uncomfortable and increasingly irritated me. I put my hand up and pushed her back down the bed and held her down with a solid shoulder rub and as she relaxed I too relented and she seemed to settle as I dozed off.

I woke some time later to find her sitting on my hip staring at me. God knows how long - or short - the time had between the last massage and this. Having got the reaction she obviously wanted she gave me a "Meh", stood up and walked heavily up my ribs, purring as she came until she was unceremoniously pushed off. Thwarted but not beaten, she purred louder and came duvet distortingly  back to my face to land a none-too-gentle head butt on me, resulting in a reciprocatingly none-too-gentle "Gerroff" and a shove towards my feet. This was repeated a few more times until a feminine but distinctly grumpy " for goodness sake, what ARE you doing?" came from the other side of the bed.

My whispered "Sorry!" caused The Lovely G to roll over in my direction and murmur a few gentle encouragements to sleep at me as she gave me a slow, gently delicious scratch up my spine from waist to shoulder, which in turn caused me to give a low groan and a shiver of approval. G slid up behind me and softly slipped her arm over my waist as she pressed into me. Jess at the same moment decided that perhaps another snooze was now in order too and also slid heavily down against my chest, pulling the duvet underneath her and took the purr volume button to 11. Behind me The Lovely G began to 'purr' too. Trapped with a cat in front and a burningly hot woman behind I couldn't move with the duvet pulled tight by Jess' weight.

I began to look forward to morning with some eagerness. This sleep malarky isn't everything it's cracked up to be.

Please.........let it be morning soon.

Listening to........The Dawn Chorus - for real!

Two sets of heavy purrs.... part two!

one of the least flattering photos I could find of ya

Hullo ma wee blog,

Slowly I am coming out of a fairly deep snooze but I'm not awake. I'm comfortable and warm and there is something pressing on my chest. I can feel my hand is up there but in the drugged, half awake state I can't for the life of me think what else it might be. I know I am lying on the sofa. I know I had a book with me before I fell asleep. It's probably that. There's definitely something there. Actually, its making my breathing quite laboured compared to normal and I do feel quite hot. Clammy almost. My arm feels a bit numb, a bit pins and needles and when I try and move it, it feels heavy, sluggish.

Bloody hell! Am I having a heart attack?

I snap my eyes open and find Jess's pink nose about an inch away from my face. Her eyes are closed and she appears to be fast asleep. She is curled on my chest and oddly straddling my arm which is why I can't move the bloomin thing. Her eyes open and she contemplates me for a second, then slowly, luxuriously almost, does an enormous pantomime catty yawn right in my face.

Eeuch!!

Although I am far from impressed with her oral hygiene it triggers a yawn from me in reply. I stretch too and pull my arm slowly from under her. My right leg has been propped on the arm rest at the other end of the sofa and as I move it I let out a howl of pain as its gone rigid from being in an odd position for some time. This prompts Jess to scarper pronto off my chest and, to gain maximum thrust as she does so, I am skewered in the chest by multiple razor sharp claws digging through my tee shirt.

OW!!!

Jolted upright by the pain I pull a muscle in my back and let out another screech of anguish.

Delicately, nursing my injured back, knee and chest I ease myself off the sofa and onto my feet, wincing as I straighten out and, with a face contorting premonition of the pain I am about to experience, put some real weight on my injured knee.

MMMNNFF!

I stand shakily and rock back and forth on my legs to ease the discomfort for a moment and slowly, slightly hunched, head out of the lounge and cross the hall towards the kitchen in search of a paracetamol and a coffee.

As I leave the room I look over to where Jess is sitting on the rug in front of the fire and she looks back disdainfully as if to say "That was a bit stupid! What did you do that for?" and begins licking at a misbehaving bit of fur.

By the time I have taken a step she has slumped down and is clearly making herself comfy on the plush rug. Firelight bounces off her coat at me as she lifts her head slightly and closes her eyes to the glare of bright flames.

The hall is freezing.

Brrrr......

I'm sure I can hear bones creaking and feel blood running down my chest as I walk to the kitchen, deciding too I should find a mirror and do a visual check on the damage.

Bloomin cat.........


see you later when I've patched myself up.

Listening to Jess 'Heavy purrs in the firelight'

Hmn!