January 8, 2015 — Who said cats are worthless?
We have three loyal cats in our household. Each has his own story. Each has special talents.
Please allow me to introduce them.
First there’s Mittens. He’s a Siamese, silver gray with leaden highlights. Absolutely the alpha male without doubt. In that role, he’s greedy, pig-headed and obnoxious. Even so, he can be needy and insecure in full appreciation of a warm lap and a tummy rub.
Mittens is our cat of contrasts. At the same time, he’s the best athlete of the bunch, but incredibly lazy. His narcissistic poses are legendary yet he loves to be touched. His throaty purr plays the tone of a worn out muffler. (Hearing protection recommended.)
Sophie is Ms. Priss. When Mitten’s mom kicked him out of her litter, Sophie’s mom took him in and they’ve composed a kitty pile ever since. At six lbs. Sophie isn’t exactly a giant among cats. As such, she’s more of a cheerleader on the sidelines as the boys roughhouse as boys tend to do.
Best of all, Sophie is my cat. She adopted my lap as her safe haven and home base. Together we watch the TV news and sports every evening in, what is for me, a soothing nightly ritual.
Want to know a secret? I’ll let the cat out of the bag: Sophie’s a Red Sox fan to the point where she’s become a popular meme on my Facebook page.
How about the clown prince of the household! This guy comes dressed for the part and believe you me, has enough talent to play Carson on Downton Abby.
Mustache was rescued as a flea infested kitten on the Gettysburg College campus by my soft-hearted daughter, and what a find he was.
This loving little guy is always searching for limelight; willing to perform at the drop of a bat for mere crumbs.
Nice publicity stills, huh!
What’s the point of this story?
Last night the thermometer plunged to 9*F. That’s cold anywhere, but here in the mid-Atlantic region that number psychologically equates to the Yukon or Klondike. Sgt. Preston would be impressed we think.
Now, the cats don’t normally sleep in our bed. I am allergic to cats and dogs, not to mention that they each have their favorite spots – all of them defined by an electric heating pad by the way. Yet last night, when the time came, there they were – all three of them hovering on or near the bed waiting for the humans to settle in.
Now it’s said that dogs sleep in your bed because they like you. Cats sleep there because they like your bed. Regardless of what the truth is, the kitty crew sensed that they were in for an especially cold night.
How cold was it? A three cat night! (Ba da boom)