greenbottletree











{23/01/2012}   A day in the life of Izzy the Cat

 

About 6am she will sit outside my door (I am asleep at this point) and meowl until she’s let in.  I succumb and she’s on the bed curled up in my arm and is soon snoring.  I am uncomfortable and don’t sleep again.  Izzy has her usual killing/hunting dreams and twitches furiously.  Then, as if she’s just remembered something she should be doing, she leaps up and is gone.  I adjust myself in anticipation of a bit more sleep.  Within five minutes, Shaun the Sheep is next to my pillow and Izzy is by the bed awaiting sheep throwing action.  For about fifteen minutes, I throw Shaun across the room, she pelts after him, rolls on the floor, grabs  him and bunny kicks him (tenderising her kill, I can only assume).  He then gets either thrown back at me or deposited next to me if I’m a little slow responding.

I get up, Izzy wanders around, occasionally returning to the killing fields.  I go into the kitchen, she stands by a drawer where her favourite treats are (a tube of 100% freeze dried chicken) and does the odd meowl.  She will meowl quite a lot.  I feed her, she’s not interested.  She reminds me that she knows what’s in the cupboard.  I ignore her.  It’s more fun to get the treats out and shake them when she’s far away because she will always come running, no matter how deep asleep she is.

While I am moving around, she will gravitate to the nearest rug, flop onto it and put her head under her arm pit, as in this photo.  I think this is her I-am-adorable-so-stroke-me pose.  It usually works.  She will then shed her blond fur over everything I’m wearing.  If she’s really lucky she’ll get groomed with her dog slicker brush.  She goes crazy over this.

She will then, seemingly at random, select one of her many sleeping areas in which to take a rest.  Right now she is curled up in a duvet.  She also sleeps in a cardboard box, a huge plastic bag with an old pillow in it, and any duvets she can crawl under.

The rest of the day will proceed as above unless I cook (for me) chicken or lamb.  These are the only food things that I cook that she loves.  She will also show an interest in porridge or yoghurt if she happens to be passing while they’re being consumed.  By about 9pm, she’s up and about. There is more Shaun throwing, a lot of racing about, a fair bit of meowling and attention seeking and the odd lap-sit.

By the time I am ready to go to bed and shut her out, she is wide awake.  I will close my bedroom door and see her forlorn face as she sits outside my door.  I will soon hear the sound of Shaun’s plastic eyes hitting the wall or floor as she vigorously throws him about, the odd Scooby Doo scrabble of claws on laminate flooring … and then 6 o’clock will come round …

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