eepinho's photostream

Here he is, once more: 18 years old and, quite to our surprise, totally deaf. Shout at him as we will, we get absolutely no reaction. At first, we put this down to the obstinacy of old age but gradually what was really going on became apparent. Then it was a case of "When did this happen?". Looking back, we recalled examples of his having finally taken notice not of the increasingly deranged noises made by humans desirous of attracting his attention on specific matters but the sight of same irked humans so incandescent with fury as to be in vertical oscillation mode.

A sign language is in development. To us, a raised finger, being gestured at him, means "Shut up, you stupid moggy, it's four o'clock in the morning; you'll wake the whole building.", as he now exercises little control over the sound level he uses to communicate his requirements to us. To him, it is unclear what is meant by this but the expression on his face does indicate that some meaning, albeit not of the volume decreasing variety, is being interpreted. This may take some time.

As tribute, Ori is entitled to receive first lick at any butter wrapper that may emerge from the kitchen. Now that he is known to be insusceptible to the lure of the crinkle of silver paper, said paper must be waved under his nose so that he may be awakened by the odour. He will then push this paper with his tongue, as he laps at the butter, until it disappears under the sofa, television stand or other non-cat head admitting item of furniture. He will then wail his loudest wail and continue to so do until the problem has been remedied by whichever human has the least immunity to such activation retrieving the paper from under the offending furniture and replacing it on the mat in front of him.

The last time this happened, I, as the least immune human then available, decided to give him a clue and held the paper down with my finger while he licked. To my surprise, when I removed this finger, he replaced it with his paw and proceeded to clean the paper of all butter traces. It's not the first time he has proved himself to be remarkably quick on the uptake but would he remember?

The next block of butter was not unwrapped for a week or so but, when the paper was placed before him, he proceeded disappointingly to chase it over the living room mat again. So I dropped him another hint which he, at first, took but then he removed his paw from the paper and chased it towards the nearest bean bag, where it lodged. The look on his face, as he enjoyed the last bits, put me quite in my place and he gave things a final twist by carefully and deliberately placing his paw on the now cleaned paper as he turned to resume his interrupted snooze on the sofa.

From left to right:
Ground Cloves in Portuguese,
Crushed Cinnamon Bark in a language that used to have us in hysterics at the dinner table,
Cinnamon in Portuguese,
Oregano in a jar from the 1960s that once held Maxwell House Coffee,
Ground Cumin in a Casa de Mateus jam jar,
Langdale's Lemon Essence.

Despite the date on the "Cinnemon" label, the contents are fresh.

Never the world's most energetic cat, she cultivated an air of royalty, which sat very well on her. I can still hear the commanding hoot she used to give when she wanted a bit of fuss.

As you can see, she was not a fan of grooming. Eventually, I gave up the wrestling matches and, every so often, had the knots taken out by a professional, armed with clippers.

I don't have any kind of head for heights so you'll have to imagine the drop on the other side of that wall!

When the humans in your life are being this stupid that they don't know any better than to refuse to give lots of CREAM to their poor starving masters, there's only one thing to do: take a deep breath and make lots more noise!

additional texture by pareeerica.thank you