Samedi des Chats

No, I’m not going to go off on a rant, not this morning, not today, about what’s going on in Paris or how our homegrown, utterly fucked up, maggot brained, gun humping ammosexuals are responding. No, I am not.

I'm stunned. Angry and wickedly sad too. There's a spot of floating, vague, obscure fear in there too.

Instead, for now, I give you good news (or mews? sorry, couldn’t resist) from Cat Central. I’d thought that our Rocco was suffering from a bit of the SAD—Seasonal Affective Disorder. And maybe he was or maybe I was just projecting.

I announced this after dinner to which Oni responded //snort// How can you tell? Yes, yez, Rocco is not the most cheery, social beastie (‘cept with me and he will allow TAB to pat him on occasion). As long as just me, TAB and Coco are inna house, he’s practically buoyant. His version of it anyway. Rocco enjoys sitting in our bedroom window, vigilantly spying on the birdies and evil squirrels  as they zoom and caper. Like Chauncey Gardner, he likes to watch.

In the thick wet, murky gloom of Thursday (the 5,000,000,000,000th day in a row of that shit. Swear to Bast!) our boy was back to his old habits. He was hiding/lurking way in the far back corner of our closet. He wouldn’t even come out to say hello. Normally, when I enter the boudoir, he dashes to my side, full of purrs, demanding that I pat him, pat him, pat him. Now more. Yes. Rilly!

I tried to give him his space. I refrained (sort of) from hovering at the closet door, speaking soft, inviting, gentle invitations to emerge. I’m not a real talent at that space-giving thing though. I placed some treats nearby. I put a little catnip in his food bowl. I placed an extra blanket (with treats on top!) in front of the window.

Nothin’. No response. Until about 1 AM and then again at 3 AM and 4. Yup, Rocco’d shaken off the gloom and needed his pats and chin scritches. He got them. Of course.

Then on Friday, with the brill sun being all brill and shit, the wind in the trees, loads of wildlife and falling leaves to watch, Rocco was back to abby-normal. Phew.

Coco? She's her usual bouncy, placid self. Rainy days and Mondays never get her down. (Apologies if this has earwormed you. Sort of. I like company in my internal aural suffering, don'cha know.)