Super long, apparently, unintentionally, and not a rant, just love for our furry teenager.
We have a cat. One of his names is Fuzzbeast. He answers to nearly everything i come up with anyway, because if i'm calling him, then i must be giving him food.
He's a little portly. And stripey. And is periodically subject to the donation of Loud Opinions. This is one of his rubber ducks, of which he has approximately 50, hidden throughout the apartment. I know not where. It is one of life's little mysteries. Once in a while one surfaces and this one was a marvel, so i brought it here for you.
Fuzzbeast is notorious for several things these days. He communicates his desires with whiskers, teeth, and paws. He does not break the skin (which is glorious after 20 years with his predecessor - a little warrior siamese i who was born in stalking mode, and i have the battle scars to prove it) unless by accident. Sometimes we play and he gets too excited, but after all those years of the siamese terror leaping at me from behind every piece of furniture i've ever owned, i'm not sweating the small stuff.
Sooo Big is a little afraid of him - rightfully so, as she has only recently become bigger than he is. He occasionally nibbles her leg or pats at her with a paw as she goes by, and sometimes we have to move him for her. But he won't hurt her. We were so sick during the pregnancy, and he spent every night sleeping on top of Baby Mountain and purring. He spent the first three years of her life waking me up every time she rolled on to her stomach at night. He has a vested interest.
The Magpie adores him. Spends hours smothering him with love, refusing to heed any number of "please stop" cues delivered by either myself or the cat. He has gotten her a couple good swats in the face because she keeps smashing it into him. But on at least three occasions, after he has finally lost his patience and whacked her, the tip of his claw has actually gotten hooked in her skin. And he immediately freezes, and sits patiently until i come over and free him while she is screeching and wailing and crying for me to come help her.
He gives me this terribly put-upon look while i take care of things, as if to say, "What are we going to do with this child. Can i take a break now, please?" and every time she sleeps at someone's house or is out too late, he comes to get me at least three times to show me her empty bed.
The boys and Head Barbarian like to hang out with him, but it's a manly relationship, and they do little pats and big Raahrs and stalk each other through the house. Head Barbarian and Fuzzbeast had an extremely loud argument one evening several years ago when a thunderstorm rolled in and Head Barbarian accidentally shut Fuzzbeast's tail in the window. Then, when HB tried to correct the problem, Fuzzbeast treated him to the full fang and scrambled madly through the apartment to hide under a bed. HB got the worst of the deal. Both were incredulous and indignant for several days. But they share the bed all day after HB finishes the night shift, so it seems all is forgiven.
He seems to think of all of them as furless people-kittens. I, on the other hand, as the keeper of the food, dispenser of the treats, handler of the meaty things, guardian of the refrigerator and purveyor of the fluffy white stuff hereby referred to as "half and half" am: The Mom.
When he wants company in the wee hours, i am the face he whiskers. When he wants to know what i am doing in the kitchen, he whiskers my leg and bites my pants, and if he thinks i'm not giving in fast enough he very gently touches his teeth to my calf, and then looks up at me. If i leave the food unguarded, he pulls the plates off the counter. He waits for me at the door when i go out, and cries for me at the window when i am in the yard. If i get up and move, he runs to keep up with me. If i am sitting, he sits nearby and naps. He hates to be picked up, but i am allowed to do it. He hates to sit on laps, but he will sleep next to me as long as i promise not to pat him. Sneaky. How do you not touch a cat that is lying next to you and purring??
Which brings me back to the fact that he is a terrible thief. He unabashedly steals my sleep. He steals food from our plates and forks (everyone has learned not to gesture with food on the fork at this point), rubber ducks from the bathtub while someone is in it, socks, pens, earbuds, stuffed animals, seats recently vacated, and used cotton swabs from the bathroom trash can - usually loudly, at four in the morning.
I am the one who spends the wee hours with him. I can't even complain, because he is getting older now, with more white in his face, and aches and pains in the weather (something else he and i share). I get a little sad sometimes, because I don't really know how old he is - he was originally my dad's - and we've had him in our family for about ten years. I can't even guesstimate. Is he 14? Is he 16? He is my friendliest company and our house nurse and an incorrigible beggar and a nanny extraordinaire, and an excellent thief, because he stole my heart when i did not expect to fall.
Thanks for letting me talk, if you're still here. This started out as a post about a duck, and now i just want him to stay forever long.
Submitted August 03, 2016 at 08:48AM by OneGrumpyMother http://ift.tt/2aPBzo0 breakingmom
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