Alex Antics

Alex is outside-again! He's been out playing since about 7:00 a.m. I suppose that being out is one way to deal with the cabin fever we both developed during the time the temperatures were in the single digits and teens. The problem for me will begin when the cat who owns me comes back inside. Alex remains as demanding as he was during our cabin fever period: I have the scratches and scars from his claws on my right leg to prove it. (At least he seldom attacks my genitals as he once did to get my attention).

Yesterday Alex found one of his cat toys. It is a clear plastic ball with a feather inside and it lights up and chirps like a bird when it rolls. I don't know where Alex found that toy; I had not seen it in a long time and I believe it was probably hidden under some piece of furniture where the furball had batted it. I suppose that, while he was tearing around the house yesterday like a bat out of hell, he found the ball. Of course, he continued tearing around the house like that proverbial bat, now batting that ball. The damned chirping from the ball came close to having me lose what sanity I still have. After about half an hour of the chirping, it suddenly stopped. I suppose Mr. Alex again batted the damned ball beneath another piece of furniture which will give me a bit of peace until he again finds it.

Losing the cat toy did not calm Alex. He then turned his cat-attention back to his human toy: me! I have mentioned how, during one of his leaps when we were in the cabin fever period, he knocked my DSL modem off its table and disconnected it. (It took me an hour and a telephone call to Bell South support to regain my Internet connection) Yesterday his leaping was less damaging (I think):

I had some papers on top on my combination copier/printer. That was a mistake on my part. Alex did a double leap (floor to table, table to the top of the printer). When he hit the papers on the printer, they slid from beneath his paws and papers and cat all tumbled to the floor. Alex, of course, landed on four paws and wasn't hurt.

Alex was evidently surprised by the fall and responded by again pretending he was that bat and tore off through the house. He was headed directly toward the front door, (which was closed) when he evidently realized he had to slow down. He put out his claws, which acted like ice skates on the polished floor, and hit the door at full speed. Of course, being a cat, his impact with the door didn't hurt him-except, perhaps, his pride. He sat by the door for a moment, stretched, then looked up at me with an air of saying "I meant to do that." He then meandered into the living room as if nothing had happened.

During my supper last night (Alex was constantly eating all day) he decided he wanted to sample my pepper loaf sandwich. Thus, I spent my meal holding the sandwich above my head (and out of the cat's reach) with one hand while protecting my bowl of tomato soup with the other. My words, "This is not your table. Get off it.", had no impact on the feline. It was one of the most difficult meals I have ever tried to consume.

Later, when I sat a my desk trying to reorganize the papers that Alex had sent to the floor from the top of my copier/printer, my cat's inquisitiveness brought a leap to my desk. I gently picked up the nosey feline and set him on the table next to the desk that holds my combination telephone/answering machine/fax. That was another mistake. The table also held a glass of water that I was drinking. The glass was an arm's length away from my notebook computer. (I learned my lesson last fall when, as you may remember, I had a bottle of Dr. Pepper next to my computer and Alex knocked it over on my keyboard, frying the innards of that notebook). I didn't realize that this glass of water was in jeopardy until I heard a lapping sound and looked over to see Alex not only drinking my water but also exploring it with a paw that had recently stood in his litter box. So much for the water.

About 11:00 p.m. Alex clawed my leg while I was reading a book by Mike Dixon-Kennedy entitled Native American Myth & Legend. His demand was simple: outside (again). So I let my master out and returned to my book. Now my (possible) dementia comes into play. About midnight, after my yawning informed me that I was too tired to continue reading, I decided that it was time for Alex and I to retire for the night. I opened the front door and called his name. No response. I went to the back door and called his name. No cat. I looked at my watch, decided that I may as well perform my going to bed ritual and then again call Alex in from his catting around. I was in the large bathroom, brushing my teeth, when I heard a sound from behind me. I turned (this house is haunted, you know) and there, on top of the wicker clothes hamper, was Alex. Somehow I must have let him back in the house, but I really have no recollection of so doing.

As I end this post, I realize that Alex is still outside. At least, I believe that he is.