Granny Pam

Granny Tells You What's Going On

Catty

I remember Aunt Jane used to say, “meow”, if she or I, or anyone in earshot said something a little catty about someone who wasn’t present. Nice, Huh? I’m not sure why I thought about that, but it may have been the cats.

I don’t own a cat, but two seem to own me.

Choe and Squeeky

These cats arrived here courtesy of D1, who rescued them from the animal shelter. The cat on the left of your screen is Squeaky. Her name at the shelter was the same as one of our granddaughters, D1 changed the cat’s name to Lucy. After 2 weeks of hearing the little thing meow in a tiny squeak, I started calling her Squeaky, and have ever since. D1 calls Squeaky Lucifer. After all, I’m told, she knocks things over, especially water glasses, stirs up a lot of trouble; and doesn’t always play nice. She is the cat that wakes me up at night. She sits near my left shoulder and tries to get under the covers. I lift them up to let her in, and then she comes back out. She also steals cough drops, she seems to like them a lot. She has strange markings, including some areas that look like patches of an orange tiger cat. But most of her short dark hair is visible on white and light things, like the couch, my chair, sheets and so on. This is the cat that likes water. We had a very hard time with the water dishes when we got these cats. Squeeky actually puts her paw into the water and “dog paddles” it out onto the floor, splashing happily. She likes to sit on the edge of the bathtub, assuming there is a bather with nice warm water in there, and dog paddle in there. After wiping the floor up millions of times, trying a towel under the dish, a cookie sheet, and other methods I realized that wherever the water dish was, there would be water all around it. We now keep the cat’s water dish in the bathtub. The cats go there for drinks, and splashes are never noticed.

The cat on the right of your screen is Chloe. She was Chloe and the shelter, and I call her Chloe here. D1 calls her something else, but I can’t remember exactly what it is. Chloe is very afraid of being stepped on, afraid of noises, afraid of quick motions, generally afraid of everything and everybody. She has fluffy medium length hair, and the white portion is always on my jeans, my dark blankets, everywhere. You really can’t find her skin, she has underfur that is thick. Her fur balls up in the vacuum with the dust and gives it real volume and body. This cat really likes the plastic bobbins my sewing machine uses, they make a nice noise on the wood floor, and roll around nicely. She often can be found on my sewing machine trying to steal one.

The cats are mine, even though they aren’t mine. They look to me for food, fun, and cuddling. They can be jealous if one is on my lap, since there really isn’t room for both. But they are cute, and fun.


About The Author

Granny lives in the suburbs of Detroit, Michigan. I like genealogical research, gardening, cool weather, spending time with my family, and bluegrass music.

Comments

Leave a Reply

CommentLuv badge