The Oak Court pride has 3 regular members: Missey, Precious the Predator and The Big Guy.  For the summer, we’ll be hosting 2 kitties for a friend.  Oh, the kitties,  just short of their 2nd birthday, are brother and sister.

They were introduced to the regular residents over the weekend and, aside from some staring and the occasional hiss, things have been quiet.  Missey wasn’t too pleased to see the vacationing couple come int he door with their luggage (cat food, litter box and toys).  The Oak Court gang is used to the occasional visit from a stray (strays have no luggage and don’t stay more than a day).  Missey is more concerned that they will like the place and want to spend a few months here.

Precious carefully moves through the house, looking for the visitors; she’s a little intimidated as the visitors are much larger than she (OK, they’re Maine Coons and are twice her size).  She spends her days on top of cabinets, dressers and other high places.  And Big Guy, also a big cat, isn’t sure what to make of them yet.  He doesn’t get close to them, preferring to hang out on the dining room table where he can see their comings and goings.

We haven’t seen any swatting or smacking yet; the pride seems to have accepted the presence of the vacationers.  As long as there is food in the bowls, water in the dish and clean litter in the pan, things will work out.

Nite

The weather improved today, while still cool (mid 60s) it was sunny.  The Oak Court Cats were on the back steps this morning, warming themselves.  Missey prefers to take a nap in the morning sun stretched out on my desk.  today, she ventured out to take advantage of the sun’s warmth on the concrete steps.

They had been there for a half an hour when the first visitor came up the walk.  The squirrels.

Missey was asleep and didn’t notice the gray squirrel that walked right by her and up the steps.   The big cat, sitting in the old planter by the door just watched and the predator was more interested in a dragon fly than the squirrel.

The picture is a little blurry, I was at the other end of the house when I noticed the squirrel looking around the kitchen.  They know the peanuts are in a special container (I keep them in an old Folgers plastic coffee can).  She was looking for the can.

Sneaky Squirrel

We may have brought this on  ourselves; the squirrels come by in the morning for a few peanuts.  At first they’d approach the house slowly, wary of the cats.  Now, however, they come up to door and beyond.  It would seem the cats have figured out the gray furballs are no threat and and because they people feed them, they must be ok and are not to be attacked.

So they walk right by the cats.

I’ve seen other cats putting up with them; our first cat, a mellow Manx, was born in a house that had a squirrel in residence and he must have thought they were part of the pride.  When Missey was much younger, she used to chase them from the yard; now, however, she only chases the other cats away from her nap spot.

We have a dozen furry visitors now, the oldest being a chubby female (the alpha from the way she acts) all the way down to 2 small young ones (who haven’t figured out the cats yet). There is an old guy, looks like he’s been through a few fights (torn ear, right foreleg looks like it was damaged and didn’t heal right).  While most are California gray squirrels, there are a few brown and one who is almost black.  A diverse group who make their homes in the trees just outside of the yard.

The cats have accepted the visitors, probably until one of them touches the cat food.  Things could change then.

Nite.

It’s been a week since Peanut passed away and the cats have begun to move on.

The Queen continues to walk through the house looking for the tabby.  She assumed the role of  ‘alpha’ a few years ago and keeps an eye on the rest of the pride.  In the mornings she comes into the kitchen for first feeding and looks around then sits, looking at me.  The tabby would usually be sitting up on the kitchen stool, waiting patiently for breakfast.  Missey looks at the stool then back at me.  Yes Missey, I know, Peanut isn’t here today.

The big cat is a little lost as well.  He enters the living room looking for Peanut; the 2 of them would roll around the floor in mock combat then head to the kitchen for a quick snack before resuming the battle.  Now he comes in the room and looks around.  Mr Big has taken to sleeping on my bed at night; he used to bunk with Peanut on the couch.

The biggest change of all has been with the tonkinese, the predator.  She doesn’t go out as much as before and is becoming a lap cat.  She even puts up with the big cat’s attention now.

It’ll take a few weeks or maybe a few months before they’ve all adjusted to the smaller pride.  Missey will continue to watch over the 2 younger ones.

The humans have also began to move on.  I still pause when I go through the kitchen, expecting to see Peanut on the stool, looking for a snack.  He had developed a habit of reaching out with his paw and tapping me on the arm when he wanted to get my attention.  I miss that.

Later.

It’s quiet on the court tonight.    The cats are settled down early tonight; it’s been a rough few days here.

Mr. Peanut, the tabby, didn’t come in on Sunday evening.  We looked around the neighborhood but he didn’t come back to the house.  We know that occasionally a cat will find something that they find interesting and they loose track of time.  We  humans have learned to expect this behavior.

Monday morning came and he didn’t come in.  We were worried and started to canvass the neighborhood again.  Calls to animal control and the Humane Society were made; no sign of the golden tabby.

On Tuesday evening, on a hunch I went out into the yard again, looking places I had looked earlier. I found my tabby.

I remember how he was on Sunday.  We had rain in the morning followed by a gradual clearing and warmup during the day.    Mr. Peanut spent the morning sitting on the table next to me as I read the paper.  I would read the comics and editorials to him; he would look at my face as I droned on about rising gas  prices and unemployment rates.

Some time in the early evening Mr. P snacked on some crunchie munchies then went out to the back yard.  He’d usually follow the walk around the yard, behind the shed, along the fence and back to the steps.  I was busy and didn’t see where he went.  Late,r when I called him to come in, he never showed.

Tonight, for no real reason, I walked to the back of the property and looked around .  There I saw him.  He was laying down, as if asleep.  Peaceful.

Mr. Peanut had gone back there to be alone, laid down, as if to take a nap.

So tonight the cats came in early, they seemed to know we were sad and their mood was subdued.  I’ll miss him, his funny meow that sounded like he was saying “hel – low”.

Nite.

The Oak Court Cats are considerate, sort of.  The back corners of the living room sofa have been shredded by the daily stretch and scratch routine.  They are considerate in that they decided to use the back corners.  Unfortunately the sofa is not against the  wall; it sits in the away from the wall where all who pass through the house see it…

Shredded Sofa

I’ve tried all the tricks to stop their scratching.  One person suggested using a strip of clear packing tape; the tabby figured how to pull it off.  At the pet store they suggested this spray.  Well, it slowed them down a bit but did not stop them.  A third suggestion was also useless; I attached a piece of denim material to the corner and, once again, the tabby pulled the material off.

So I went out and bought a scratching post, a cat tower with carpeting.  It seems that the Oak Court Pride likes the sofa more than the $200 cat tower for scratching.  The tower is a great place to play or sleep but not for scratching.

Another suggestion was to buy those door knob hangers that are essentially carpet with a loop for hanging.  You’re supposed to “season” them with cat nip. Nope.  The tabby “marked” it….

Not a lot of success in the battle; the pride decided that the sofa was the best place for claw cleaning and it wasn’t open to negotiation.

So I tried one last thing.  In the cat store I found these corrugated cardboard blocks.  Like the door hangers, they are “seasoned” with cat nip and tossed on the floor (cats will not be interested in anything that is purchase for their use).

Cardboard Scratch Blocks

These cardboard blocks cost around $5 and last about 6 months.  The cats (well, most of the cats) love them and shred layers of  on a daily basis.  I toss a handful of cat nip on them every few days and clean the area up with the vacuum a few times a week (they tend to get messy).  Precious the Predator rolls around the floor, tosses them into the air and, in general, trashes the area by the time she’s done.  The Tabby and the Big Guy spend a few minutes on the blocks, usually just after I’ve freshened up the catnip.

So, while the sofa gets torn up more every daily, they tease me by shredding card board and rolling around in catnip.    I’m going to live with shredded furniture for a while longer and, in the mean time I’ll keep buying cardboard and catnip.

Time to vacuuum things again, later.

John

The Oak Court Cats are early risers; usually awake long before I get out of bed around 6 in the morning.  I don’t even know if they sleep throughout the night.  With their strange sleeping patterns (cats average 16 hours sleep within a 23 hour day), these guys are up and down all night.

Regardless of the fact they are not on the same sleep cycle as the human inhabitants here, they expect to be fed when the first human wakes up in the morning.   It’s as if they assume the human gets out of bed just to feed them.  If they don’t get fed, they take it upon themselves to make noise, create havoc and wake someone up.

This morning was no different.  I worked late last night and decided to sleep in.  I didn’t set the alarm clock.  Never gave it a second thought.

They did.

At 6:05 Missey hopped up onto the pillow.  a few minutes later the Predator, who was sleeping on my bureau, jumped off and onto my legs. The tabby followed a few minutes later, chased in by the big guy.  At 6:15 I gave up, put the glasses on and got out of bed.  The four of them followed me out to the kitchen and waited patiently as I cleaned the bowls and filled them with  wet food.

It’s the daily routine; doesn’t change at all, day in and day out.  It’s been the routine for over 18 years now.   I don’t know what happens when I’m not here;  not sure who they wake up.

Now, just in case you might think that the switch to daylight savings can put them off their schedule, you’re wrong.  I need to find out which of them can read the clock.  A few weeks ago, on the morning of the time change, they were just fine, waiting for me at the appointed hour.  Scary, isn’t it.

So, when I go to bed tonight, I’ll not set the alarm.  I know the feline alarm clocks will wake up up for breakfast.  Now, if I could only teach them how to make the coffee….

John

It’s  springtime and the Oak Court Cats are not happy.  With warmer temperatures and longer days at hand, the cats begin the annual process of shedding the winter fur.  The Oak Court Cats started a few weeks ago and have been leaving little piles of fur scattered around the house.  When I get home after work I can usually tell where they’ve spent the day by the amount of fur in any given spot.

Missey’s favorite nap spot is on the corner of my bed, where she sleeps in the sun most of the day and has left quite a handfull of gray and black fur.  Precious, the predator, tends to spend the days sleeping on my bureau and it is covered by strands of mottled brown fur.  Tabby fur covers the dining room table and the big guy has left a small mountain of his hair on the sofa.  Before I can start dinner I need to go through the house with the vacuum cleaner.

They each have their own way of dealing with the scratching.  Missey will wake up from a nap, scratch furiously for 5 minutes then go back to sleep till the next attack.  The tabby prefers the dining room table while the big guy is happiest rolling around on the carpet where he can leave a pile of hair on the  floor.  Precious doesn’t do a good job of preening herself; she prefers to be brushed and will demand a good brushing usually while I am trying to eat.

To help then through this process I brush them nightly (that yields another pile of cat hair) and wipe them down with those cat cleaning clothes.  Missey doesn’t allow me to brush her, she prefers my son’s brushing.  Precious puts up with some brushing while the tabby will stay still for long periods of time as i brush.  The big guy doesn’t’ care who, just brush him.  While brushing, we look for telltale signs of fleas.

Anyone who has been around cats in the spring understands what I’m talking about.  Shedding is rough enough by itself; add the fleas and you have 4 miserable cats.

So, the cats get a dose of some goo between their shoulder blades and the carpets get sprayed with some other flea-killing chemical and then we wait.  In the mean time the cats scratch, whine, growl and are no longer pleasant to be around.

A few days after the flea treatments we start brushing again and, in a month, repeat the process again.   Usually takes 3 cycles to eliminate both the shedding and the fleas.

It’s late and Precious reminds me she’d like a brushing. Nite.

This is the tale of Missey, The queen of the Oak Court Cats.  Missey is a “weegie” a Norwegian Forest Longhair, born in the summer of 98 in the backyard of a older house on the other side of town.  My daughter’s friend found her in the corner of the yard, called my daughter and we brought her home.  Seems she was about 7 weeks old and orphaned; her mother didn’t survive an encounter with a dog.

The first few days we tried to keep her sequestered in my daughter’s bedroom.  The vet advised us that we should let her get near the other cat for a few days.  At the time the resident feline was Mr. Worf, a rather large Manx, 5 years her senior.  For the first day she sat in the corner and meowed piteously, stopping only long enough to eat, drink and sleep.  Seems that Mr. Worf was concerned about Missey; he knew how to rattle the doorknob  while leaning on the door, opening it up.  I was reading the paper and noticed that the house grew quiet. I was surprised to see the room opened and Worf sitting on the bed, Missey sound asleep leaning against his side.  We didn’t have anything to

Roomates

worry about;  from that day on they were a team.

While Missey was an active kitty, she was by no means as graceful or athletic as Word or any of the neighborhood cats.  Jumping up on a chair was difficult and a leap to a table top? Nope, not going to happen; she just didn’t get the altitude required and would frequently miss.

To this day she will leap to a high spot only if she can stand up on her hind legs and check things out first.  Reminds me of a meerkat  the way she’ll stand up and carefully look around.

These days Missey likes to sleep, a lot.  Something like 19 hours a day.  If she were human, she’d be around 68 years old now so I guess she can sleep if she wants to. Her favorite spots are on my bed or on the sofa.  On cold mornings she’ll look for a sunny window sill or doorway.

Missey, Queen of the Oak Court Cats

She is the queen here, the senior member of the herd of cats and let’s the others know their place.  I’ve seen her swat the big cat (the maine coon) and stare down the neighbor’s dog and growl at the mailman when they disturbed her slumber.  She chased one of the cats through the house and into the ba

ck yard when they tried to push her out of the way at the water bowl.  She can get cranky when she needs to.

So tonight she is sleeping on my bed; I’ll have to put my pillow case into the wash tomorrow as she found it to be ‘just right’ for her bed tonight.  She’s sleeping soundly tonight, just a hint of a cat snore.  The other cats slowly drift into the room and take up their places on bureaus, chairs and on the bottom of the bed.  It’ll be hard f or me to stay awake much longer;  something about the sound of 4 cats snoring that makes me sleepy.

Nite.

It’s starting to get warm so I decided to work in the yard today.  It’s been a long winter and the trees are starting to show buds, the daffodils are blooming and bees are starting to buzz around the yard.

So I went out to the shed and pulled some of the tools out.  In just a few minutes I had the rakes, tiller, shovel, tree pruning saw and a few other garden tools out and piled up on the walk. Now, this should have taken me under 2 minutes but I spent a good 15 minutes getting things together.  Seems that each tool removed had to be inspected by oneor more cats.  The big guy was interested in the rakes (did he think they would be better than the hair brush for grooming?)  The tabby was trying to figure out the tilling tool while the predator was staring intently at the shovels (could she use one to dig out the ground hogs?).

And so it went.

I started cleaning the vegetable plot.   I was puling the remains of the fall tomato crop  out when the big guy started to help.  He’d wait until I started to dig the roots out then he’d rush in and start pawing at the newly opened hole.  So I’d have to stop and wait until he was sure that nothing was going to crawl out of the hole and attack me.  I’d then move on to the next root and we’d repeat the process again.  10 plants took a half an hour to clean up.  Without his help I could have been done in 10 minutes.

During that process the predator was off investigating something in the neighbor’s yard.  As I was carrying the last load of roots to the green debris box, she ran up and started to talk, going on and on about something.  I’m not sure what she was saying, she sort of whines in long sentences of cat talk, stopping long enough for me to say a few words then she starts with another long sentence.  She can keep this exchange going for 3 or 4 minutes until she has said enough and walks away. I’d like to imagine she’s telling me about what she saw or maybe something she heard.

Cleaning up along the side of the garage was the high point of the day.  The grass and ground cover is thick, the dirt is always damp and the area is home to a few blue-belly lizards.  As I gingerly rake the leaves and peanut shells (that’s another story) out of the area I’d occasionally disturb some of the inhabitants who’d dash out, pursued by one of the herd.  The lizards would usually head out along the walk way for a few feet then dash over to the fence and safety.  The big cat chased after one but quickly gave up (ok, the maine coon is not knows for speed).  The tabby fared better but would pull up short of the fence and stare at the lizards as they slipped through the gaps in the wood fence.  Predator had apparently played this game before. As soon as the lizard started to dash towards the fence,  the cat would spring to the fence and meet the lizard on the other side.  I felt bad for the lizards and took the cat into the house.

As part of the cleanup I decided to put in  a few sun flower and sweet pea seeds on the sunny side of the house.  There is a flower bed that hasn’t been used for some time.  This wasn’t as easy as I thought.  Each time I would cut a trough for the seeds and dro a few in, the big guy would come behind me and dig them out.  I went through 3 packs of seeds before I got a few in the ground.  Did he think it was a game? Not sure.

After a few hours of this they tired, as did I and we put the tools away.  Of course, with cats helping, the shed was inspected first. Then each tool was put away, it too was inspected.  They inspected  the doors, the yard chairs, the trash bag, the recycle bin. They inspected everything.  I’ve brushed their coats now and fed them well, as a reward for their efforts.the big guy is snoring, laying across the desk.  Precious, the tokinese, is curled up on the bed and the tabby is stretched out on the sofa now.

I’d be heading to bed myself but the queen, who slept through all the excitement, is awake now and wants to go out for a walk in the night air.  Can’t refuse the queen’s request, can I?

Nite.

We’ve had a lot of rainy days lately on the court.  While the rest of the country is dealing with snow, we get rain.  The Cats on Oak Court are much like the humans here; they get cabin fever after a couple days of rain.

The day started ealy with the tabby walking around the house at 4:15 in the morning.  I know it was 4:15 because he woke me up by yelling.  Now, the tabby has learned to mimic a few human sounds over the years and will occasionally use one of those sounds when he wants something.  At 4:15 he is either lonely (the rest of the cats are sleeping soundly) or he is hungry and needs a human to wake up and put some fresh food into the bowl.  This morning he was lonely and wanted to go into my grand daughter’s bedroom so he started yelling “her…row”.

I’ve greeted cats with “hello” since I was a youngster; offering my ‘paw’ and saying “hello”. I think the tabby picked up the sound and  uses it with some weird anticipation of a human coming to him, much as it is when i say the work on coming into the room.

Any, I was woken up quite early with the tabby’s “her..row” repeated several times.  So, like any well trained animal, I got up and went out into the living room to see what he wanted. He has learned not to repeat himself once the human is in the room so he sat there on the coffee table and waited for me to offer my paw and give him a scratch between his ears.  Since I was awake I went into the kitchen and filled the crunchie munchie bowl as it was empty.  He has roused me because he was hungry. I didn’t hear from him at all after that.

He knows a few other sounds and uses them at appropriate times.   For example, he has an inquisitive sounding “mr..out” when he’s standing by the door.

Does he know what he’s doing? I’m not sure but I believe he understands that certain actions result in predictable responses. He’s learned, through repetition that that sound will bring a human or the other sound will get the door opened.

Well, the big guy is making a sound now and it is having a predictable response.  He’s snoring and I’m starting to yawm.

Nite.