New moon
It was a new moon last night.
Cats are very sensitive to moon cycles, or so I have been told. My parents dog (and their neighbours cats and dog) are too.
Full moon sends them a little more loopy than normal. More running around at night, more miaowing, more fighting between the boys.
Charlie took ham from my hand last night. It turns out that he likes ham as much as the others, so there were four cats underfoot fighting for it. Of course, being a good cat slave, I am aware that they like the most expensive ham on the deli (well, they are cats!) and I buy it for them once a week. They get more if it is reduced, but too often I find myself in a tug of war with a little old lady for it and I lose. Lucky for me the ladies on the counter know that it is for the cats and they sometimes save it at the counter for me so I don't get involved in any punch ups.
(I once saw a punch up in the supermarket. One woman clipped the ankle of another with her trolley, and didn't see fit to apologise. After much shouting and swearing the injured woman threw a tub of pimiento stuffed olives at the other. When bad mannered woman finished removing olives from her coiffure, she leapt on the injured woman and punched her nose. Both got carted away by store security. Seems sad that a shopping trip can end in a bruised ankle, a broken nose and a banning from the store for one, and olive smelling hair and a banning for another).
Anyway, I digress.
Charlie, after taking the ham from me, stationed himself at my feet for the rest of the evening. I didn't touch him (too scared) but I talked to him. That drove the Baron up the wall but Charlie stayed with me and listened.
It must have worked because he slept on my feet all last night, even when the others paid their nocturnal visits. When the Baron's alarm went off because the stupid arse forgot to turn it off last night, Charlie started crying.
I called him, and he came and snuggled against me. I got brave and stroked his head (that head cries out to be stroked, it is so soft and furry) and he closed his eyes.
He actually stayed for 17 fantastic minutes (odd coincidence, because Frankie never used to come for cuddles until recently and that was the length of his first snuggle). He didn't purr but his ears didn't flatten and he shut his eyes. 17 minutes of four cats on the bed. One was evil eyeing Charlie (clue: slightly demented white tabby boy), but no fights, hisses, growls or swipes. Just peaceful togetherness.
I eventually got up to feed them (Frankie only cuddles if he wants something, and that something is normally food). At that point, it has become Charlie's habit to go back under the sofa, not emerging again until the evening.
The moon must have affected him more than I suspected, because he sat in the middle of the floor calling for food. I gave him some ham - gratefully yummed up - and ignored the growling. I understand that after three months on the street, he doesn't want to share his food.
He won't eat from the same place as the other cats as evil Harvey bopped him a couple of nights ago when he ventured out. But the boys were out terrorising the neighbourhood, as is their wont, and Ellie still hisses at him before running away.
So I thought he cound be persuaded. Because he still thought I might try to take his ham crumbs away, he growled as I approached. Ignoring him, I showed him where the food was, and realised I was backed into a corner. I tried to step over him, but he hissed and ran. Mistake.
However, in keeping with today's newfound braveness he was back out from under the sofa in thirty seconds, and this time I managed to get him to the food and myself up the stairs. Result! One fed cat. The crowning glory? He has followed me up and is sat with me by my feet. He really does talk a lot, and Ellie seems to talk back now (in between the odd hiss). I am so happy - my cat seems to trust me now!
So things are looking really good. And I am now off to go and look at bass guitars.
posted by DMouse007 @ 2/21/2004 08:56:00 AM
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