12:24am December 26, 2011

Feline Standard Time meets arm weakness

I think cats have a very different sense of time than most humans. Which I can relate to. And different thought processes. But sometimes there’s this problem.

An illustration. When Fey gets up on the bed, she likes to decide between snuggling with me near my face and crawling under the blankets. She does this by standing there a really long time. Sometimes peering back and forth. Sometimes giving me a clue by nudging the blankets upward with my head. Usually by walking partway under the blankets, walking out, turning a couple times as if to lay down, standing up, walking under the blankets… you get the idea. And if I try to rush her too obviously she’ll whip her head around and bite me as often as not.

The problem is she wants me to hold up the blankets while she’s deciding. My arms are not strong. And they weaken rapidly with exertion. And I’ve just scanned a painting, which at times requires a lot of arm strength. (Don’t laugh. Okay laugh if you want. But I’m poor and the scanner was a gift and it gets… finicky. Also keep in mind it’s a small flatbed and requires about 10 scans to a painting.)

So I’m trying to hold these damn blankets up while she peers under there and finally I go fuck it and drop them. Thankfully not on her head, that invites being whapped by a paw.

(We communicate cat style in this house which involves a certain… physicality at times. We’re both careful not to hurt each other – the most I do is put my teeth on an ear… her limit is worse but I let her because she’s got less power and sometimes I need a wake-up bite in the ass – but we get a point across.)

And now she’s resting peacefully and I’m worn out just from typing this on the iPod. I hope she realizes when I drop my arm it’s because it literally won’t hold three blankets above my head anymore, not because I’m impatient for no reason. My friend has a parrot who takes it personally when I literally cannot hold up a bowl of koshary for her to eat any longer.

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