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December 3, 2018
A Few More Cat Adventures
Sgt. Pepper is an old cat. 13 years old, with arthritis and a blip in his brain that makes him circle clockwise at least twice before he moves forward. We cannot step over the circling to get past him; he will yowl and bang into our ankles if we try.
I have become a cat pedestal upon which Sarge poses: his front paws on my lap and back paws anywhere from shoulder to my breasts. The cat bum of legend stays cleanly in my line of sight.
Sarge has finally begun to share his gas. Up until recently, he shared his SBDs only with me. Of late, however, he has decided my husband deserves the honor as well.
He does not knead us, or “make biscuits” as my daughter says, as much as he used to; it is a privilege he reserves for my breasts and my husband’s lower belly. We are grateful for the lack of frequency.
Sarge has pills to take. If you have ever had the chore of giving a cat a pill, you know the routine: hold the cat’s head firmly, pry open the jaw the cat wishes to keep clamped shut, and pop the pill as far back in the cat’s mouth as you can without choking the cat. Sarge always prepares by curling his tongue to flick the intrusion out of his mouth and somewhere into the carpet. This can be a ten-minute process if we don’t pop the pill in correctly. And no matter what the vet says the pill is flavored with, if Sarge chews the pill, we get the hooded “stink-eye” for a full fifteen minutes afterward.
He prefers his water warm. Warm or cold – and it’s getting to the time of year when it’s hard to keep anything off his self-heating mat warm – he serenades us with throaty yodels after every sip. The concert can go on until we yowl back. Seems to satisfy him that we have understood his art.
Each morning begins with the question, “Did he make in the box?” Eight times out of ten, he still does. However, we ‘walk the perimeter’ of his previous dump sites, with sanitizing wipes and held breath just in case.
Sarge despises wearing the sweaters we bought for him for cold winter days. He gets his “revenge,” however, by sleeping on me for 1-2 hours. Talk about sweet revenge!