After being rubbed down by me yesterday, Henry decided today without my urging that a good clean was necessary. He looked kind of embarrassed but also defiant.
Tag: kitten
naughty corner
Henry came home smelling … well, not of roses. As he showed no intention to clean himself in a hurry, I dragged him into the bathroom, took a damp wash rag and pretended to be a cat mommy and mopped him down. I only have a few scratches to show for it but also a much sweeter smelling Henry.
I didn’t send him in the naughty corner, he went all by himself.
can i have just one more bite?
I’m trying to eat.
And don’t tell me we are starving him. He has been eating like a hors… well, like a little pony the last couple of days.
expanding horizons
Yesterday it was live theatre, today it is TV – Henry is watching a South African animal documentary about servals with baited breath (and pricked up ears). He sits in a shoe carton and enjoys the show. Lothar is missing his crime show.
baby, it’s cold outside
I think Henry is maturing. (höhö!) But he seems to have accepted the fact that when it is white outside (be it snow, be it hoarfrost) it means it is FREEZING.
He still goes outside but much more reluctantly than when the temperatures where above zero and he doesn’t fight me for the control of the door anymore (at least at the moment).
Maturity comes with experience, not age.
nine rich men
We have a magnificent wall hanging which we brought from South Africa and which has had pride of place in all our living rooms ever since. Henry likes it, too. He likes it so much that every now and again he tries to claw his way up.
I haven’t been able to take a picture of him doing it because I am too busy sprinting over to the wall, shouting “Noooooo!” and getting him down without his claws either ripping the tapestry or the tapestry (or me) declawing him.
Incidentally, the tapestry is called “Nine rich men”.
push-over: I am but I can’t
Not that I needed more reasons to procrastinate but every now and again (like every night) Henry decides to go to sleep across my forearms while I am typing. I could shift him but then he does this incredibly cute little sound like a soft baby sigh, and I just melt. I am such a sucker!
Henry and boxes, full of paradoxes
Henry loves boxes. He tries – and often succeeds – to open them and put his curious little nose in them. We all know that curiosity killed the cat so I cleared one of his favourite cartons, put stuff he likes inside, and put it inconspicuously in a corner. Henry hasn’t been interested ever since.
lethal weapon
You know that you are a seasoned cat owner when you discover blood on your hands and arms after petting and playing with him – and you never noticed that he even scratched you.
three strikes
As I settled with Lothar in front of the tv, and get on with some crocheting, Henry decided to NOT let me get on with it. I kept fighting him for the balls of yarn until I managed to push over my wine glass and had red wine all over the doffee table and floor. My fault – I should have organised this better. I didn’t blame Henry. I cleaned up the mess.
Henry was clamouring to get out so I thought it might not be a bad idea if he got rid some of his energy outside. I left the bedroom door ajar and went back to Lothar, the tv and the wine. Soon after Henry came back, and settled between us. All of sudden he was on hyper alert. I followed his gaze only to find Johnny, the neighbouring tom cat, hunched over Henry’s food bowl. – A major cat fight in our living room was prevented when Johnny saw me coming, panicked, tripped over the water bowl and fled through the bedroom. My fault – I should have closed the door earlier. I didn’t blame Henry. I cleaned up the mess.
I felt like more wine so I went to the kitchen counter and poured some. Henry watched me from the dining room table, decided he wanted to join me, and took a flying leap to the counter. He misjudged, landed and kept going, falling off on the other side, taking the full glass of red wine and the bottle with him. I managed to save the bottle. The glass lay in pieces on the kitchen tiles, in a red puddle, with a nervous cat peering at me from around corner. Not my fault. This time I did blame Henry. Then I cleaned up the mess.
Vera: I am beginning to see what I am missing by having a dog. My wine is safe. No dashing wine rescue needed. Wine glasses are completely ignored. Leo’s foes stay outside. What a boring life I’m living. Except when Leo and his foe meet on the road and then I get to go to the vet…
Vivien: Das Ende der Langeweile: hol Dir Katzen ins Haus. Wir haben seitdem keinen Fernseher mehr 🙂
Henry 