Still Life: We Put the Fur in Furniture

There is no reason that a tasteful charcoal grey cat condominium cannot be considered furniture. It is tasteful, modern; a suitable size to fill that empty space below a window, next to a chair. It could be a footstool. Or a small table.

It makes more sense in a living room than, say, a tree.

And consequently, makes a good deal more sense than a tree that serves as a source of multi-colored illumination.

And, besides, under the right conditions, it positively sparkles with life:




At moments like that, you just have to draw back and take in the bigger picture, see how it all comes together in what we decorator types like to think of as organic space--people, trees, felines, furniture, art--all one fluid assemblage of mutual entanglements.

That Time of Waiting

Have you been naughty?

Have you been nice?

Do you deserves presents?

Do you deserve mice?

These are the questions we ask this time of year. It is an annual celebration of the joy that is to come. Of the promise of presents, if only you were good enough . . .

We reflect on our temptations, those we resisted and those we succumbed to. I tried to be good . . . but she hissed at me. And then ran away . . . how could I not chase her?

'Twas the night before Christmas
And all through the house,
Not a Shiva was stirring,
He was stalking a mouse.

The garbage was sacked
In the cupboard down there;
Shiva watched and he waited
To catch a mouse unaware.

Surviving the Seasonal Harmony

The month between Thanksgiving and Christmas has two special meanings in this country. It is first and foremost, a season of harmony, a time of getting along, setting aside difference, and sharing in mutual joy and common celebration. And, of course, it is also a time when the cheer that is brought out annually late every November with the lights and decorations begins to taste less and less savory, as it served up in well-worn jingling carols like auditory leftovers; by late December, you can hear people muttering about surviving the season.

I suppose, in some ways, it's a dry run for winter, whose real chill is still before us and which will be met with excitement that soon gives way to exhaustion.

But it is also its own event.

I looked out the window this morning where just before hunting season, I saw half a dozen deer nibbling the last leaves of autumn. Today, there was only one, and he was moving at a right good clip, so that it was hard to squeeze off a shot before he ducked behind a tree.

It is not clear to me if he were moving quickly because the last month has told him that that is how one survives hunting season, or simply as a foraging tactic because instinct tells him that rapid grazing is a better strategy for surviving the cold days before us.

Either way, he prompted me to reflect on surviving the season.

And those reflections were soon joined to another reminder about the value of harmony in this time, and how it helps us all to survive.

I heard the thumping sound of an animal landing on furniture, followed immediately by the recognizable hiss of Remedios when she becomes a cobra cornered by Shiva.

Undetected by anyone (neither myself nor Remedios, slumbering happy in her hibernation box), Shiva had entered the room like a mist. He likes to sneak up on her while she sleeps and sit beneath the dresser looking up at where she lies. Usually I detect this and go over and gently dissuade him from leaping up and scaring her to death. But today, I never noticed. And the next thing I knew . . .

. . . the eagle had landed right next to her. And she did not wake up happy.

As they froze in their standoff positions, Remedios hissing defiantly, I walked over to try and encourage detente. Gently petting each simultaneously got Remedios to silence her vocalizations and Shiva to begin to purr. After a minute or two, when I thought I might record this proximity for posterity, I went for my camera.

Shiva, having made his point that perhaps a peaceable interaction was possible, descended just as I snapped the photo.

Maybe, just maybe, in this season of harmony as we learn to survive, we will give peace a chance.

More Holiday Decorations

The snow sits lightly on the landscape, only frosting the leaves and branches, trimming the edges of the wet-slicked roadways.

Indoors, the furnace keeps us warm as I grade and cats doze in blankets and boxes and chairs.

All through the day, the snow will sit like powdered sugar, with here and there a single flake floating leisurely from branch to ground.

Occasionally, almost imperceptibly, a bit will melt and dissolve into the moisture beneath it. But the temperature will hold it solid, the air cooling what the ground dissolves.

Until, at last, the sun that spends all day sleeping behind the slate-grey clouds, will set without ever having shown his face. Then darkness will fall again, and with it the temperatures, preserving the whiteness we will no longer see.



The furnace will rouse itself again, as the cold enters the house and stirs us to movement. Cats will come to life and I will light the tree, it's bright lights giving warmth.



But the greatest warmth will come from those living decorations.

Caffeine?

It is not at all clear to Paxil why caffeine is NOT prescribed for his intake.

Nor is it clear to him why we are interested in relocating a tree indoors when there are already so many outdoors.

Nonetheless, he is happy to explore the internal colonization of space by external life, even as he seeks to comprehend the logic by which trees are relocated inside walls.

Generally, he thinks trees do not require cats or ornaments.

More Druid Ritual

I was excited by the opportunity to take photographs of cats doing something other than sleep in one of six frequently repeated positions, so I took many photos of Shiva an Paxil exhibiting various degrees of curiosity and bemused indifference to the practice of bringing trees into the house and then concealing them under electric lights and bits of shimmering glass and miniature shapes.

What can I say?

'Tis the season.

It's begining to feel a lot like . . .

Today was tree-trimming day.

That happy (almost-) annual ritual of buying the Christmas tree, buying a stand because you can't find the old one, buying new lights because you can't find the old ones, and then putting all the old ornaments you can on the sweet pine air-freshener you have just brought inside.

This is a time guaranteed to bring joy to the hearts of all.

Especially the acrobatic ones who can roll over on their backs and dream of grabbing low-hanging ornaments and maybe pulling an entire tree down on top of themselves.

And even to those who look nonchalantly out windows, as though much more interested by the prospect that a cardinal might fly too close and become a lunchtime target.

Upon Further Reflection

There is no snow.

Well, at least none currently visible. It still looks cold out there, but the sun seems to have melted away all the remaining snow.

I suppose, at some point, I will have to venture outside and discover for myself just how warm it has become. Just like at some point I will need to try and clean that mirror that looked so clean until I tried taking a photograph with it in the background.

But for now it is probably enough to consider that here inside, in December, it is warm and one can sleep wrapped up in warm blankets.

In fact, upon further reflection, perhaps one can just place a finger over the flashbulb and the mirror won't look so dirty. And if that's the case, maybe one doesn't need to go outside after all.

On the Other Side of the Room

While there is definitely something to be said for the sweetness of companionship and closeness, it must be admitted that there is also something not altogether unpleasant about the pleasures of solitude and self-contained contentment.

While Paxil and Shiva share one papasan, that eye you may have noticed that Shiva kept open was looking across the room to where Remedios almost dozed on top of the sofa.

Can't We All Get Along?

First, I guess apologies are in order for taking so long between posts. If you promise daily paxil, you really need to provide it more often than just weekly.

I got a little lax in my feline photography.

And I guess when it comes right down to it, my models have gotten a bit repetitive in their poses. After weeks of careful study, I am coming to the conclusion that they only do about four things, three of which involve sleeping in familiar locations.

While they may repeat the same behavior in the same locations, at least from time to time, they adjust their configuration. Last night, for instance, Paxil decided that I was an uncomfortable person to sleep on while I was grading papers, so he decided that he would join Shiva in his papasan.

Perhaps one day we will get Remedios to come by from her perch on the other side of the room and squeeze into the chair.