Oct. 1st, 2014 07:30 pm
sparkindarkness: (Default)
 So I am cat sitting sibling kitty and she and my old mog are doing their usual posturing and duelling. The worst thing is getting used to the old mog’s habits and finding they don’t work with the bundle of (aging but vibrant) energy from the sibling kitty.


For example, Old Mog likes to be petted – she shows this by laying next to you and staring at you. When you stroke her she melts into a puddle of contentment and you occasionally stop so she raises her head in outrage and you can confirm she’s not actually dead and you’re not actually petting a corpse. Because that would be creepy.


Now Sibling Kitty screams and begs for attention until you finally pet her at which point she has a near seizure of joy because ZOMG HUMAN TOUCHED HER AND IT’S AWESOME! All four limbs flailing as she twists around and probably does herself an injury. The worst part is she kneads with all four claws – the air, the sofa, cushions, fleshy bits of human – just flexing away little razor blades in every direction. She also demands attention because while the Old Mog will just puddle, Sibling Kitty will not only flail around with razors but every now and then will suddenly decide “KILL THE HUMAN!” and you need to pull your hand back quickly or be flensed to the bone. Doubtless this is to ensure human reflexes are kept at peak efficiency.


Old Mog is tolerating Sibling Kitty’s presence. She still hisses, but it’s more a “I would like to formally announce that your presence in this house is unwelcome and I disapprove most strongly” hiss, rather than a “I will kill you and wear your skin on weekends and high holidays” hiss.


However, she has developed a “you have betrayed all that is good and pure in the world, there is now a desolate wasteland where hope once resided and barren void where kindness once lay” glare every time she sees me or Beloved with Sibling Kitty. It’s a very eloquent glare.


Feeding time is… vexing. Both kitties will appear at exactly the same time and demand food. At which point both kitties are convinced that a) I have put the sublime ambrosia that the gods would kill for in the bowl of the other cat while simultaneously dumping goat excrement in their bowls; and b) that their bowl must be protected at all cost, under no account must the other cat come within a yard of their bowl or Death Must Follow.


This is more complicated by Old Mog needing medication for her super-scabby skin which now has to be hand given to her (oh dear gods cats and pills) because there's no guarantee who will eat the food


The most annoying habit of Sibling Kitty is her yowling. Now Old Mog yowls. Old Mog yowls a lot – but she’s adept at communicating what she wants with those yowls. If she yowls near her food bowl, she wants you to fill it (that doesn’t mean she’s hungry and she will, inevitably, walk away from said food. She just wants to test her human’s obedience). If she stands near a door and yowls she wants you to open it (again, not necessarily to go through it, she just wants it open). If she yowls near a chair she wants you to sit down and pet/comb her.



Sibling Kitty will sit in the middle of the floor and just yowl. She can keep it up for hours while you play a guessing game as to what this silly creature actually wants. I suspect she likes to hear her own voice.

sparkindarkness: (Default)


Yesterday brought the cat’s annual check up with the vet.

 On the plus side, she was easy to load up (being a somewhat elderly kitty she spends 19 hours in every 24 asleep – the rest of her time being devoted to eating, randomly vomiting and sitting somewhere and yowling for no apparent reason), even if she did make her disapproval of the situation abundantly clear to everyone within ear shot.

 She may be ancient, but she’s healthy – and even the vomiting is less to do with health reasons and more to do with hairballs/pure spite. And she got her claws trimmed – not declawed, but since she spends all her time asleep now she’s not wearing her claws down at all and they’re getting long. She also has trouble retracting her claws – the vet suggested some kind of arthritis in her pads. The bad side is that we no longer get to see her walk across beds/sofas/carpets and suddenly fall over because she’s accidentally nailed one foot to the floor. Then she does her “I totally meant to stick my claws in the carpet!” look. Which is followed, inevitably, by the “someone unhook me, damn it!” yowl. Then she sulks because we have Witnessed Her Shame.

 Of course, she now hates everything. With the fiery passion a thousand hateful suns. When I left this morning she was practicing her “I will make the whole world burn” glare. And refusing to eat in a distinct “food?! You think I would take FOOD from YOU, you hateful betrayer of all things good and right in this world?!” fashion. Then she waits until you’re not looking to eat it all and suggest “me? I didn’t eat that! It was the fish!”. She also refused to be bribed with tuna (she ATE it, again, when no-one’s looking, but she refused to be bribed by it).

 Thankfully, fiery, world destroying hatred is tiring to maintain and she needs frequent naps, so the world gets a reprieve. For now.




sparkindarkness: (STD)

On the good: SP #3 has not shceduled me to be on call this week (barring the kafluffle on Monday) except this coming Saturday and possibly Sunday – and he gave me advance notice for them

On the bad: If I’m not on call Sp#3 you should really NOT be calling me between the hours of 9:00pm and 3:00am. No, you should not. Because I’m not on call. And if I don’t answer my mobile, it’s because I am ignoring you. It’s not an invitation to use the landline – yes we do have a phone by the bed, no it doesn’t have it’s ringer turned off (except weekend m0rnings) because if someone rings us at 2:00am it’s usually because it’s a desperate, raging emergency and we’re fine to be woken in these conditions. And yes, we, because the phone by the side of the bed woke Beloved as well. Why wouldn’t it? Wait, don’t aswer that I’m already pissed enough

This? Was not an emergency. You’re lucky I picked up the phone before Beloved (and he tried, swearing copiously, but it’s at my side of the bed)

Also, if it were an emergency, it would be YOUR emergency, not mine. It can be my emergency when I’m paid as much as you, ‘kay thanks.

In related news – cat you are not helping matters. In the bedroom or OUT please. Constant scrabbling to come in and then scrabbling to go out is annoying. Of course we can leave the door ajar so you can get in or out -but you want it OPEN. So will PUSH it until it is large enough to fit a herd of hippopotamuses. Muses? Hippopotami? Whatever, hippos. Big ones.  And this is annoying, yes yes it is. Who can sleep with wide open doors?

Also, the hours between 1:00am and 5:00am are not the time for hugs, no furball, they are not. No face nuzzling, poking or whining while I’m sleeping – especially since waking up to find a fanged maw within an inch of my face is not a good thing. No no it isn’t. Also, enough of the nocturnal vomiting. Do you know how vexing it is to hear a cat being sick in a dark house and know you have to find it – but that there’s a lot of carpet to walk over between you and the lightswitch?

Beloved – should said furball nuzzle you for the huggings, you do not pick up furball and drop her on me. Especially not my head. She’s your cat too. Yes, even when we’re trying to sleep.

Also, Beloved, are you break dancing or fighting a legion of ninjas in your sleep? I’m trying to figure it out based on the sheets strangling me, the duvet turned by 90 degrees, the pillows scattered throughout the neighbourhood, let alone the bed and the fact if you don’t lie still for 5 minutes I am going to suffocate you while you sleep. How did you manage to get UNDER the bottom sheet? Couldn’t you snore or something? I could deal with snoring. It depresses me that there’s so much movement going on in our bed for so little purpose, yes yes it does.

sparkindarkness: (Default)
As I have said, my brother is still staying with us until the burnt out shell of his former home is returned to a vaguely habitable state. And yes, it is taking waaaay too much time (update on that later)

What is less apparent is that my bother's cat is also staying here. Yes, Mia, the ultra-cute Snow Bengal kitten. Well, not so much kitten any more. She's freaking HUUUGE, but apparently not full grown.

My current cat, Socks, is a much much older dignified, reticent grand-dame crotchety old moggy who is NOT happy with this young pile of energy playing onnher lawn. She alternates between condescending terribly to Mia and trying to eat her eyeballs.

Today's incident is brought to you by Beloved and his horrible Tuna N Sweetcorn (the 'n' is imporant. Just ask Dinner Ladies) sandwich filler. I have never understood his fondness for this muck. You can pay a ridiculous price for what is APPARENTLY Tuna N sweetcorn filler (which tastes nothing like either, but does have a remarkable resemblance in look, smell, and, one would assume, taste to cat vomit) OR you can open a nice, cheap tin of tuna, throw in some sweetcorn, mix with mayonnaise and voila, perfectly acceptable sandwich filling of divine yumminess. His decision to add cheese slices to the mix (the kind of cheese that looks like it has never seen milk and has instead been extruded from a single sheet of polyvinylchloride) does not improve matters.

Beloved: *chews disgusting excuse for a sandwich, really how can he defile bread with that filth?*
Mia: FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD! Oh my god he has foooooooood! *leaps on seat next to him* FOOD FOOD FOOD!
Socks: You are a disgrace to all things feline. *stares hard at Beloved* I demand tribute.
Mia: FOOOOOOOOD! *leaps to back of chair and tries to climb down Beloved's shoulder* FOOD FOOD! Oh my gods I'm STARVING! FEEEEED ME!
Mia: FOOOD! Why can't you see me?! *leaps to other side, leaps to floor, runs round Socks (is swatted), runs back to original side* Food! Oh please food food food food food!
Socks: Resistance is futile *STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARE!*
Mia: FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD!! *JUMPS up onto Beloved trying to land on plate*
Beloved: *desperately tries to juggle lap full of plate, handfull of sandwich and hyperactive cat*

Beloved: Argh, ok, have some! *gives in and launches gobbets of sandiwch spread at cats*
Mia: FOOOOOOOOOOOD! *gobble gobble gobble scatter*
Socks: *sniffs* What is this shit? You do not expect me to believe you are actually eating this. Give me the real food, human, I am not so easily fooled *STARE*
Mia: MOOORE food! *attack plate*
Beloved: *desperately scatters more alleged Tuna*
Mia: *runs all over gobbling, missing huge chunks* MORE?!
Beloved: Look, you've missed a bit. You're not having more until you eat that *points*
Mia: *looks at finger* There is no food on that finger? Where's the food?
Beloved: LOOOK you stupid cat! *picks up Mia and plonks her down with her head nearly in scattered piece of tuna paste*
Mia: *sniffs* I don't want this bit. I want another bit. Yes, yes I do. *tries to attack plate again*
Socks: *STARE, bloody STARE damn it*
Beloved: Look, you eat Socks'. She doesn't like it *pokes Mia towards Socks*
Socks: HELL NO BIATCH! *swat, hiss, growl, spit* It's MINE!
Beloved: But you don't like it!
Socks: And this matters, why? It's mine. She may not have it.
Beloved: AHA! I've finished the sandwich *drops plate* no more left girls.
Mia: *leaps on plate* CRUMBS! oh my god crumbs! SOOOOOOOOO GOOOOD! CRUMBS CRUMBS CRUMBS!
Socks: DO not lie to me human, you are going to the real food now *stalks Beloved for the next hour*


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