Counting Issues
Typically we count 3 times a day: There is the waking up in the morning count, the going to work count, and the coming home from work (or other) count... Usually it's the coming home count that is the easiest - there are the passive participants, who just happen to be in the living room already, and the active participants, who energetically arrive in the time it takes the human to move through the vestible. Tonight, we were seriously short of cats and kittens! Cyrrie was there, in the window, while the human was still on the porch. Eventually she (the human) spotted Banshee - back of the couch - and Lucy - dining room table top... But that was only - how many? Then Toonya showed up in the kitchen, and the human got down on her knees, and there was Buddy under the Morris chair, but where was Cloud?? And then, ! Cloud was there, popping in so suddenly from that alternative universe she didn't even try to hide her metaphysical tracks... (All's well.)
posted by Lizzy at 8:15 PM
1 Comments:
Counting cats is never a problem for me. These three all have convenient patterns...
Kai, well...Kai, if he's not at the door when I come in from work (or from the internship or class or errand-running or plain ole gallivanting), he'll come sliding and scuffling around the nearest corner at top speed. He'll slow down as he approaches the door & the Great Beyond beyond. He'll make his initial greeting and get a "Hey there, sweetpea," in return. Then he'll wander off toward another room as if there was something he had to do, but he can't remember exactly what (...something to do with...food? fuzzyyellow mouse? hmmm....wander, wander.)
Meera will never be within sight when I open the door. But I just sit down in the hallway, and start talking to the air. Within seconds she'll poke her tiny head around the kitchen door, or around the end of the hallway to scope out the scene, and then she'll come trotting over for some serious pettage. (And this Little Girl can't get enough. She and Kai give me love-nips if my petting hand slows down. "Lady, you leave us alone for this long, you owe us.")
Now Brat, my erstwhile door-greeter before Little Boy arrived on the scene, he's got a different m.o. altogether. He'll always be in one of three places: (1) the couch cushion farthest from the door, nearest to the giant windows; (2) the southwest corner of my bed, one paw dangling over the edge; or (3) (if it's been a long, hard day and he's pure kitten'd-out) inside his cat carrier, in a dark corner of my bedroom.
But if I had 922 cats (and kittens), I can see how the Daily Count(s) might pose an occasional problem...
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