Cats are Weird by Poppet Hatcher

poppet2011.jpg Hello, from SW Idaho, where it's officially winter but there is still no snow on the ground. Bogus Basin Ski Resort, which we can see from the valley, isn't open yet. Humans who like to ski are very sad. Me, not so much. I don't like having to "do my business" when the ground is white and cold.

Anyway, I'm Poppet, an eight-year-old Papillon (the "butterfly dog"), and I try to keep everything in order in the Hatcher household, primarily by barking lots, licking lots, and loving lots.

Robin didn't have anything to say today on her blog, so I decided to fill in for her. I usually post little comments and jokes and photos and such on my Facebook Page (you're welcome to join me there anytime), but I've never tried to write a blog post before. So it seemed to me that I should start with the topic that is most often on my mind––the weirdness of cats. In particular, the weirdness of Robin's cat, Pinky, a one-year-old feline of questionable parentage who now outweighs me by a good three pounds or more. A few questions on my mind would be…

pinky.jpg

  • Why doesn't she have the good sense to sleep at night? There are times it sounds like she's destroying the living room while humans and I are trying to sleep. Bam! Crash! Thump! It's quite disturbing.
  • How is it, even without claws on her front paws, she can find a teeny-tiny-little hole in the sheer living room curtains and proceed to make it a big-huge-long rip? Or maybe the question should not be "how" but "why"? (Curtain salesman due here later this morning to give a bid on new window coverings that won't tear.)
  • There's nothing I love so much as a snuggle and a rub behind the ears. But Pinky doesn't want to be touched unless it's her idea. She'll crawl up on Robin's chest on the sofa and purr and knead her spot until she lies down. But no one should even think of trying to love on her at any other time. How dumb! Why is she like that?
  • What makes her want to get up to the highest spots in the house? Was one of her parents a circus tightrope walker or something? She loves to leave her nose prints on the high windows in different rooms of our domain. Robin doesn't love it all that much. (We won't mention my nose prints on the lower window by the front door; Robin doesn't love those so much either.)

Feel free to provide me with insightful answers if you choose. And thanks to Robin (who loves me to distraction despite my barking habit) for letting me guest blog.

~poppet