Molly the Cat

May 27th, 2002 at 8:38 am ]

It’s weird that I dreamed about playing with the cats, instead of actually waking up to play with them. I’ll do so now, though.

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May 14th, 2002 at 11:03 am ]

Underneath my apartment building we have a large shared garage. This is where I park my car. Drivers must take care to avoid the calcium-enriched drippings from the ceiling which have created stalactites and stalagmites over the years; certain of the parking places are deemed offlimits because of the danger these drippings could pose to a car’s paint. Last night I was hanging out in the garage. I’d not spent any quality time there before, but judging by the cat footprints I sometimes find on my windshield in the mornings, I suspected that a little friend or two might be living down there. Yesterday my suspicions were confirmed when I heard a plaintive “meow, meow, meow” coming from a back corner of the garage. I tiptoed over to investigate. It appeared there was a cat inside a midsize boat that is covered in dust and dirt, and has obviously not been used in many a year. When I walked up to it the entire boat began to shake slightly, and I heard thumps and scuffling noises coming from underneath the boat’s cover. It was kind of an unusual sight to see. The cat stopped talking, though. I wasn’t sure what I’d find if I lifted up the cover… a family of kittens?… a boat-sized litter box?… the Oogie Boogie Man? So I just went away. Maybe I’ll investigate another time.

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May 11th, 2002 at 10:18 pm ]

My experience suggests that every cat in the world likes to chase a laser pointer. Molly is definitely not an exception to that rule. Being attached to a small keychain, my laser toy makes a distinctive sound that Molly’s keen ears can detect from anywhere in the apartment. She comes running when she hears it, and stands in the center of the living room to scan the floor for that quivering little red dot.

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May 7th, 2002 at 6:40 pm ]

Molly learned a lesson the hard way.

Whenever I’m pottering around in the kitchen — an activity which includes opening and closing the refrigerator — Molly likes to stick her head in the fridge and sniff at all the perishable foods. That got tiresome and, frankly, disruptive to my cooking. My cooking is already distressingly pathetic. An overcurious cat made it that much worse.

The opportunity to quickly train Molly presented itself recently, and I took it. She had climbed entirely into the fridge and was stepping on my pita bread. She thought it was a great place to be. Then I allowed the door to close. Yep, I shut my kitten in the fridge. Well, Molly thought that sucked, and she let me know vocally. After about five seconds I let her out…

That was a week ago. Molly has stayed very far away from the refrigerator ever since.

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May 6th, 2002 at 8:56 pm ]

I took off my sweaty socks. Twinkie is sitting on them now. She loves them.

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May 5th, 2002 at 8:38 pm ]

Molly went outside! This was her first time. Specifically, we sat on my little stoop and looked out into the courtyard. Twinkie was exploring. She was sniffing around and munching on blades of grass, as usual. When Twinkie is outside, Molly tends to watch her through the window making little meows, but this time I decided that she was allowed to come outside and sit on my lap for a while. It was quite an experience for the kitty; indeed, it was something of a sensory overload. Birds and butterflies flitted overhead, and Molly twitched as each new movement caught her eye. The smells that she sampled from the wind were so exciting. And for once, she was able to sit still on my lap. I think she wanted to run and frolic, but couldn’t quite decide which direction to head first. I took her back into the apartment before she could figure it out.

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May 2nd, 2002 at 10:11 am ]

The kitten seems to derive pleasure from viciously attacking me when I’m in bed. Each time I adjust the position of a limb, or roll over, or sometimes even when I breathe, Molly pounces on the comforter where she sees movement. It would be painful were the comforter not an inch thick.

After a recent lapse of interest in this activity, for some reason she has now become more gung-ho about attacking the bedclothes than ever. In fact, this morning before the alarm went off she jumped onto my back from what I could swear was some great height. It really was an amazingly forceful landing, and I had to make an “oof” sound as I woke up in alarm. But I cannot explain how it was achieved since I was sleeping at the time. From where did she leap? I cannot say. If only I could have witnessed Molly’s gymnastics…

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