Monday, February 13, 2006

Big Mack Attack

I have been up since 3 am and it is now 6 am. For some spring-feverish reason, Mackie decided that last night was Play Date Bonanza, and he started pestering me to play with him starting at about midnight. I fended him off until 3 but after that I was unable to go back to sleep. What is UP with that? I've had him since he was 4 weeks old, rescued from a flea market by friends of mine. He is a tabby cat bar sinister in an otherwise all pure-bred Seal Point Siamese litter. The despicable breeders plucked him from his mummy so they didn't have to claim she had whelped a back alley bastarde! So I have had him for ten-plus happy years and although he has always been a terroristic cat, he's never kept me up all night long, before.

He yowled, he pounced, he loudly galloped across the floor like a herd of hairy mammoths upon frozen tundra, he licked my fingers stealthfully which always scares the beejees out of me, besides being a decidedly unpleasant way to be roused out of sleep, and generally badgered me umercifully until I had no option but to get up and cater to his every whim.

And then he was soooo happy! He purred, he rubbed my legs, he cavorted in glee. I glumpishly filled his food and water dishes, brushed his little furry body, carted him around like a baby playing his favorite game of "What is that object?"*

Normally he just goes outside and hangs out with his hoodlum friends but he would have no part of it this morning. I opened the door for him at least 5 times and he'd sniff to his hearts content but would not budge. I simply could not figure out what got into him. He's not even that much of a night owl, preferring to sleep butted up against me or between my legs so that I am pinned and trapped in one position all night long. I honestly think he just thought I needed a treat. You know, like he was entertaining me as a Valentine's Day present.

*This is where I toss him over my shoulders like a sack of potatoes and tote him from room to room and let him sniff at high-up objects he can't normally reach, like the curtain rods, the upper shelves in the linen closet, the many plates mounted on the walls, etc.

Speaking of Valentine's presents, does anybody know what kind of plant this is, and more importantly, how do I care for it? It is not a geranium nor is it a carnation, but it looks like some kind of hybrid of those two.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Azalea...I have killed every one I ever met!!

Queen Q

Miss Pink Ponsonby said...

Oh, Thank you! An Azalea will die just like any other plant around me, so there is no reason to treat it any differently, is my way of thinking. I suppose I shall drown it or fry it in the window or starve it. Unintentionally, but perhaps subconsciously?

elsnako said...

Are the men in your life as successful as your cat in getting what they want by endless pursuit ?

:-))