Pet Adjustments
They're not very big, and they have no words to tell us what they want, but we make all sorts of adjustments for our furry little friends. Why? Because we love them, and maybe a little bit because they'll get us if we don't.
A few months ago I chronicled the search for the perfect napping place for Old Cat. She wants to be with me as I work, but her preferred place was between me and the keyboard, which didn't work well for my writing. We compromised on a second chair at the desk, where she's sleeping as I write this. Still, it took two pillows and a couple of different blankets before she attained the desired effect.
Downstairs, Old Cat has her own section of the couch (protected by her own blanket--note the strings from her kitty claw push-ups) where she spends her afternoons in pretty much the same position as she spent the morning.
Evenings are spent either in my husband's lap (she goes to the side of his chair and taps on his elbow with her paw until he raises it so she can jump up) or on the footrest of my recliner (she jumps onto the chair arm and waits until I raise the rest for her then takes precisely half of the space, always the left side). His lap; my footrest. There isn't any reason we know of. It's just how she wants it.
Old Cat has trouble jumping onto the bed these days (she's 21, after all), so we found a small set of steps she can use to get up to where we are and disrupt our sleep all night. She either chooses to rest between my feet or up against my husband's back, making it hard for whoever is the Chosen One to roll over.
She's also fond of sleeping on the stairs, we think because it lets her keep an eye on what each of us is doing. This is dangerous early in the morning, because there's no light there and we might trip, causing bad results for cat and cat-lover.
Well, there wasn't a light. We recently tucked a small lamp in the corner of the middle step so we can avoid our favorite stumbling block.
I'm sure you have your own list of adjustments. You find yourselves discussing what she wants to eat, how she wants the house set up, and why she's meowing this time.
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| Before: "Not yet happy w/arrangement" |
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| After: "This works for me" |
Downstairs, Old Cat has her own section of the couch (protected by her own blanket--note the strings from her kitty claw push-ups) where she spends her afternoons in pretty much the same position as she spent the morning.
Old Cat has trouble jumping onto the bed these days (she's 21, after all), so we found a small set of steps she can use to get up to where we are and disrupt our sleep all night. She either chooses to rest between my feet or up against my husband's back, making it hard for whoever is the Chosen One to roll over.
She's also fond of sleeping on the stairs, we think because it lets her keep an eye on what each of us is doing. This is dangerous early in the morning, because there's no light there and we might trip, causing bad results for cat and cat-lover.
Well, there wasn't a light. We recently tucked a small lamp in the corner of the middle step so we can avoid our favorite stumbling block.
I'm sure you have your own list of adjustments. You find yourselves discussing what she wants to eat, how she wants the house set up, and why she's meowing this time.
Communication is imperfect, but somehow our pets
let us know exactly what they want. And we bend over backwards to provide it.
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