With kittens, everything is a toy. I put the long box their Whiskas Kitten Souffle packets came in on the floor of their playroom when it was empty and it took them about two seconds to devise a number of games to play with it, but no matter how they plotted, they always turned into a dead end. I then opened up the other end and whole new games ensued. Eventually, one of the kittens–I think it was Kukla–commandeered the box for her own. I eventually gave up making videos of the fun and went into the living room. Frannie jumped up on my lap and it was awhile before I noticed that she had noticed the videos I was trying to put on Youtube. Her ears perked up and her eyes never left the screen. It occurred to me I should be filming this and by the time I got my SD card out of the computer and into my camera, she had jumped up on the keyboard. The last of the four videos is of her admiring herself. Kittens are half pep pill and half tranquilizer. They’ve certainly changed my life! Hope you enjoy these videos. Wish I knew how to edit them. (I must have messed up loading the second video so I’ll post it in another post tomorrow. Have to get up early for day 3 of the kids camp tomorrow so should retire soon!)
Four kittens make good use of an empty Whiskas box:
Once I opened the other end of the Whiskas box, Kukla took permanent possession, but had plenty of visitors:
Climbing my cape,
An agile kitten
Makes her escape.
Prancing the hallway,
Evading my grasp,
Rattling the padlock to
Swing on its hasp.
Chasing small bugs.
Mounding the rugs.
Explores with no map.
Rests at her day’s end
Secure in my lap.
The prompt today is scamper.
I chanced upon this scene when I came back to the guest room, where I am sleeping tonight hoping it will be less asthma-provoking than my room has been lately. It looked so cozy, I hated to disturb it. I have another confession to make. I bought this cat made of papier mache newsprint in PV. It was made by an artist who would not reduce the pretty pricey price because he was selling them in galleries so couldn’t undercut them. I actually bought it for my friend but when I saw it in my new guest room I decided to keep it. I felt guilty about this while she was here. I had installed it cozily on the bed in the room where she slept. Imagine my delight when I pointed it out after a few days, surprised she hadn’t mentioned it, and she made a rather disparaging comment about it. Relief! I was thinking if she was crazy about it I’d have to give it up to her. She is a cat lady, I should add, of the first order. So, I sent her back to her real cats and she let me keep my hypoallergenic cat. I’m sleeping with it tonight.
Casts a fine shadow. Likes to curl up.
Has to put up with that scrawny new pup.
At her most regal when perched up on leather,
she suns on the wall in the sunniest weather.
Not very scary like Halloween cats.
Doesn’t quite go with pumpkins and bats.
But everyday kitty has her own way,
and she’s a great kitty for just every day.
When first he turned up on their lawn,
he might have been the Devil’s spawn.
He hissed and sputtered––showed tooth and claw––
fierce growls emitting from his widespread maw.
They feared they might be scratched or bitten,
yet took a chance ––and tamed the kitten!
(I think you’ll want to click on the below photos to enlarge them. You’ve seen some of them before, but worth reviewing imho.)
prompt word today was “Fierce.”
When my new husband and I moved from L.A. to the redwoods of northern California, a feral cat appeared from the forest and after a week or so of hide-and-go-seek games, deigned to move in with us. A month or so later, she had three kittens—like their mother, all grey Burmese with chartreuse eyes, but each with a differently-shaped tail. The mother’s was curved at the end with a dip to the right. One of the female kittens had a similar dip, but to the left. The other female had a zigzag tale. The sole male, Bearcat, was the only one with a perfect tale—unbent, long and expressive. He was also the biggest, the most talkative and the only one to survive for fifteen years—long enough to move with us to Mexico.
window ledge percher
door crack peeper
NaPoWriMo prompt: Kennings were riddle-like metaphors use in Norse Sagas. Basically, they are ways of calling something not by its actual name, but by a sort of clever, off-kilter description — for example, the sea would be called the “whale road.” Today, I challenge you to think of a single thing or person (a house, your grandmother, etc), and then write a poem that consists of kenning-like descriptions of that thing or person.
Here is an earlier poem written to this same prompt: