She's in my pl-a-a-a-ce!

Spring has finally arrived and for the last two nights I've left my
bedroom window open a few inches. The window has a cat shelf, and Will
considers that shelf -- and indeed my whole bedroom -- as particularly
his.

Night before last, he got his first good taste this year of sleeping
before an open window. But last night, disaster struck. Being a cat,
he doesn't sleep the whole night through, but gets up and wanders around
from time to time. At four o'clock this morning he returned from a
reconnaissance and foraging sortie and found to his horror that Heidi
was occupying his shelf. What's more, she was singularly unimpressed
with his claims of prior and superior right of possession.

The poor boy complained long (Time stretches when one is trying to sleep
through cat complaints in the last hours before dawn.) and loud (There
is nothing quite so loud as the wail of an indignant cat in an otherwise
silent house.), but she -- unlike the rest of us -- was deaf to his
remonstrations. Finally, about six o'clock, he gave up and put himself
to bed on the glider in the sunroom downstairs. When I got up to feed
them at 6:30 he was sulking too hard to come and get his breakfast.

--

Wayne M.

Wayne Mitchell wrote:

Night before last, he got his first good taste this year of sleeping
before an open window. But last night, disaster struck. Being a cat,
he doesn't sleep the whole night through, but gets up and wanders around
from time to time. At four o'clock this morning he returned from a
reconnaissance and foraging sortie and found to his horror that Heidi
was occupying his shelf. What's more, she was singularly unimpressed
with his claims of prior and superior right of possession.

He needs a little coaching from Roxy. If she notices that Licky is in
a place that she considers hers, it doesn't matter if she was happily
dozing in a different spot - *he does not belong there*. So she'll just
walk right up to him and whack him on the head. This seems to take care
of the situation as far as she's concerned.

Of course, as a human, I think this is horribly rude of Roxy, and I don't
hold back from telling her so when I know she's about to oust him from
a comfy snooze. I actually go so far as to shoo her away before she does
anything, but this is rarely successful. Licky always wakes up from all
the commotion, sees the warning looks from Roxy and decides to get out
of there before getting whacked in the head.

Finally, about six o'clock, he gave up and put himself
to bed on the glider in the sunroom downstairs. When I got up to feed
them at 6:30 he was sulking too hard to come and get his breakfast.

Aww. The poor boy had wounded pride, and probably didn't want to run into
the source of his humiliation.

Joyce

--
A conservative is one who admires radicals centuries after they're dead.
-- Leo Rosten

wrote:

He needs a little coaching from Roxy. If she notices that Licky is in
a place that she considers hers, it doesn't matter if she was happily
dozing in a different spot - *he does not belong there*. So she'll just
walk right up to him and whack him on the head. This seems to take care
of the situation as far as she's concerned.

The funny thing is that he will, from time to time, turf her out of that
room altogether -- not frequently, but often enough to keep her a little
nervous. But for some reason he wouldn't do it with her up on the
shelf. Probably the angles were all wrong or something, but it rather
appeared, from all his yowling and trying to get me up, that he was just
so appalled at the situation that he felt that the lazy human really
should get up and deal with it.
--

Wayne M.