Today’s post is a photo journal of a day in the life of my cats. They pop up occasionally in my posts, but today belongs to them.
We have two cats sharing our home: Thomas, a 15 year old white and orange shorthair, and Tickle, a 13 year old Ragdoll. At this age, they basically live to eat, sleep and cuddle. Their lifestyle is the envy of many humans.
As always, their day begins with breakfast – a moment of Great Excitement for Thomas, and a “meh” experience for Tickle, who is not a “foodie”. This is followed by making a quick inspection of their territory and then baths. In Tickle’s case, a bath and blow dry, as he sits on the heat vent so he can wash, dry and heat in quick succession. Cats are practical.
This task completed, he positions himself between a pot and the curtain, peering out the window in hopes of an ambush. Never mind there is a glass door and a ten foot leap to the bird feeder, he lives in hope. Cats are optimists.
If there are no birds, perhaps some box-sitting is in order.
Food and entertainment thus covered, it is time for lounging and dozing in the sun. Naps are interrupted by brief periods of stretching and following the sunbeams around the household. Cats take comfort seriously.
Cats NEED to play. You do not want a bored cat. Trust me, they will make their own fun if you do not provide it. At some point after lunch, they decide it is time to attack the catnip, cardboard tubes or fluffy “mice”. Well-content that they still “have it” as hunters, they engage in deep celebratory sleep that lasts several hours.
After dinner they begin to swish their tails around our ankles and rub their heads on us while making encouraging noises. It is their request for us to please sit somewhere comfy so they can cuddle. They either sleep on our laps or on either side of us like purring bookends.
Their final performance for the evening depends on their audience. I usually feed them before I head upstairs for the evening, but if I do not, Thomas begins busking beside my husband in hopes that he will drop kibbles in his bowl. I find it hilarious that he feels he has to sing for his supper with him. Hubby forgot to feed him once in his 15 year tenure as Opener of Cans, and Thomas has never forgotten it. Best to entertain the tall one with songs of feasting in the dark of the evening to ensure a full belly. If I am the target audience, this is what I get instead…. Stares. Long, deep stares. Please just read my mind. Search your feelings, you know what I want!