I just got this page all set up, and knew exactly what I was going to write about, until this page actually appeared. Georgie’s in the room, so let’s talk about him instead.
Georgie is one of my cats. He’s about 10. Mostly black, with a white belly, white feet, and white nose except for one oddly-place black spot. He got his name rather randomly. After I discarded Oreo, because, in my mind, that’s a girl’s name, I just started throwing names at the cat. Fred, Ralph, Mike, George… Hmmmm…. Let’s try that one. If I remember it tomorrow, that’ll be his name. It stuck, and here he is. (By the way, his brother is Bailey, and “It’s A Wonderful Life” had nothing to do with this combination.)
Georgie’s nickname is “What???” I’m always saying that, because he’s a meow-er. He has about 5 different vocal "expressions," and, although I can distinguish them all, I don’t speak cat, so I’m forever saying “What??” I like to think I've figured some of them out, but he won't confirm or deny it. Here are my guesses:
1) “Put crunchies in the dish so I can see that YOU fed me. Even if the bowl is full and you put five crunchies in it, it’s the principal of the thing.”
2) “Get some water in that dish, it’s not all the way up to the top. However, I will drink it, so I’m not just trying to make a point. THIS time.”
3)”Clean out the damn litter box! There are five of us sharing these things, and MINE is dirty.” (He believes no one else should use “his,” so when it needs cleaning, it means someone ELSE went in it, and he gets insulted.)
4) “Pick me up. It may look like I’m struggling to wiggle away, but it’s only a token gesture, in case one of the other cats sees me and calls me a wuss or something. Also, I’m going to lounge on your RIGHT shoulder. I don’t care if you’re typing. Use the other hand and give me my shoulder already.”
There’s another one in there, and that’s where “What??” comes in. No matter how many times I ask, he still won’t explain it to me, or at least show me. It turns into an argument and it bothers me that he always seems to win. And I don’t even know what argument I lost!
There are a total of 5 cats in this house. Georgie and Bailey are mine, and, 3 years ago, the three of us moved into my parents’ house, where there were (are) already 3 cats: Fluffy, Bingo, and Figaro/Fig/Moose. Not everyone gets along all the time, but we manage. I break up fights occasionally, and my mother tells them to stop and be nice to each other. (Yeah, ma, and after they do that, tell them the Red Sea needs parting again.)
This past Sunday, I found a couple more cats I’d love to adopt. One is blind, and I’d have to also take a second “seeing eye cat,” to help the blind one until he got the lay of the land. I told my dad about this, and he agreed with my logic, that he’d see one go by and just wonder which one THAT was. My mother would notice, but as soon as I pointed out the blindness, she’d deal. What’s one more litter box? The amount of Febreze, Lysol, and any number of air fresheners we buy also stimulates the economy. Win-win situation for everyone.
On the other hand, it would be more meows I'd have to interpret. So, maybe not.
PS I love commas.
