Is that cat depressed - is it evident in his eyes? (no, but behold the eyes of the cat!)
The windows at this cat's domain have been closed for three, probably four, solid months now. There is no open screen to the outside world and no neighborly critter or creatures that come visit or snoop around the outer window sills.
As we enter the house, of the cat, we close the door from the cold as soon as possible, leaving not a gap for him to gander out and test the air for sniff or sound of any smaller game. Rarely, lately, does he even try to catch a glimpse out - he has probably entered some contemplative state of meditation. A mind over matter approach to get beyond the stale inside air, the same old same old is probably getting old – his naps seem longer, curled on his cushion near the radiator.
The windows at this cat's domain have been closed for three, probably four, solid months now. There is no open screen to the outside world and no neighborly critter or creatures that come visit or snoop around the outer window sills.
As we enter the house, of the cat, we close the door from the cold as soon as possible, leaving not a gap for him to gander out and test the air for sniff or sound of any smaller game. Rarely, lately, does he even try to catch a glimpse out - he has probably entered some contemplative state of meditation. A mind over matter approach to get beyond the stale inside air, the same old same old is probably getting old – his naps seem longer, curled on his cushion near the radiator.
As he ages, and let us admit it, he is probably a bit beyond his prime now, he looks a little pudgy. Though sometimes through the
night he can be heard down on the main floor below doing some sort of sprinting. We are pretty sure it’s
a shuttle run, back and forth he goes, through the chair legs and over the toys
strewn across the floor, his own offseason American Gladiator/Ninja Warrior training. His nocturnal instinct takes control, his yoga, his
continued conditioning toward a state of meditative bliss.
The matrix moves and leaps of this cat are still possible, but a little less frequent now at his stage in life. The quick bursts of speed seem to be meant to escape the static-cling, born from dry air that engrosses and defies gravity leaving particles on his grey fur - that he licks off, with his dry tongue and eventually comes back up.... ah, but we digress.
He seems to overly appreciate those times that he gets a highly rationed treat. What a good cat, a friend, a good juju kind of fellow. He protects the house when we are home and away and should get random tokens of appreciation. Maybe a little glass of milk left on the table overnight would suffice and make his life a little more interesting, especially through this winter monotony.
Perhaps a bird feeder outside a window could generate interest or muse as well.
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| Luka, the cat |
He seems to overly appreciate those times that he gets a highly rationed treat. What a good cat, a friend, a good juju kind of fellow. He protects the house when we are home and away and should get random tokens of appreciation. Maybe a little glass of milk left on the table overnight would suffice and make his life a little more interesting, especially through this winter monotony.
Perhaps a bird feeder outside a window could generate interest or muse as well.
[Somebody get out the yarn, somebody throw the catnip,
somebody pay me some mind because I’m overprotected and stuck in this lame inner-house
party; a nature-sucking vacuum - funded, fueled and propelled by wave after wave of polar palpitation with arctic proportions and reality distortions.]
