Thisbe comes out of the closet

As everyone knows, Friday is Cat Blog Day

And Thisbe is out from under the bed, too. After years and years, Thisbe has finally accepted our young houseguest who appears three times a year for various vacations. Usually Thisbe spends these weeks sulking under the bed or in a closet, wherever there is darkness and privacy and one can't (Thisbe hopes) be seen or detected.

Annie is the Tabby. Thisbe is the tortoise. She has a cross on her chest, and she hopes that the Pope might visit someday, as she knows he likes cats. But I digress.

When discovered under the bed, Thisbe used to hiss, "Get outta here. My space."

While we were in Europe, we shut the bedroom doors so that Thisbe's caretaker could give her the twice daily insulin she requires. After a few days Thisbe warmed up to the caretaker and didn't hide when the front door opened and the unfamiliar tread was heard in the house.

So on this occasion of our small guest's visit, we shut the bedroom doors again. Thisbe could "hide" behind the sofa in the home office or under my computer desk or in the cedar closet. She made several appearances and let the small guest pet her, a milestone. Then, three nights ago, Thisbe approached the small guest and said, in cat, "I would like to be petted." And it was accomplished. So Thisbe has been hanging out in the home office with the rest of us. The doll house is set up here and the small guest is busy night and day rearranging dolls and furniture.

Thisbe's old terror has abated. Of course sometimes a cat still likes her privacy and a trip to the furnace room or behind the couch or especially the cedar closet is still required.

Annie is always tranquil but has been heard once this week to offer up five mad meows. Don't know what that was about. She also escaped, opening the sliding door with her paw and exclaiming, (in cat) "spring is here; free at last!"

A household with cats is a complicated one, with brooding and sulking and periods of extreme lovingness. Cats are crazy. They fit right in.

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Old Farts at Wal-Mart

Ye gods, Wal-Mart has become super busy lately, and I guess that tells you something about the economy. We buy their kitty litter, which they are usually out of, but that's a different story.

After finding n0 litter, we popped into Dunkin' Donuts for, natch, a donut and coffee, and would you believe everyone in there was a senior and some of the folks, were senior-seniors. Looked like we had stumbled into a rest home cafeteria. Except for the guy (no spring chicken, either) who yakked to his lawyer on his cell phone the whole time, saying some pretty interesting stuff about lawsuits, his son, his money, yada yada. There is no vignette so small that it wouldn't interest a writer.

So found a tiny table amidst the wheel chairs and walkers and tired looking white-haired shoppers. Maybe Wal-mart has half-price perscriptions on Fridays. We bought Shout and Mouthwash and a bottle of Cranberry Juice.

Last time I was at Wal-Mart was on a Saturday. They place was mobbed, and people were dragging up multiple shopping carts. Looked like the world was going to end and everyone just had to buy a bunch of stuff first. Or something.

We bought one box of litter and two Polly Pockets dolls.

Thisbe (I missed cat blog day this week), has been extra pensive of late, and looks a bit out of sorts. I told her about the pope who visited Boston liking cats a lot. Thisbe has a white cross on her chest, and maybe she thinks she missed a special blessing or something. I don't know.

I'm leaving for Northern Nevada (nice alliteration, huh?) on Tuesday and trying to get out of town is always such a hassle. Idea for mystery novel set in a tiny town in the desert. I tell myself I won't write anymore mysteries, but if a plot comes, a writer answers.

So there.

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