She Bites

Posy is in the proverbial dog house this morning.  She needs to sit in a corner and think a bit about her recent behaviors, which include biting and late-night caterwauling.  She was cleaning herself on my lap last night and I was petting her, and all of a sudden she sunk her teeth into my palm while staring at me steadily with her light-blue, increasingly serial-killer gaze.  It made me so glad the vet didn’t remove all of her teeth, ahem.  She was literally biting the hand that fed her.

Then she screamed outside my door last night at around 2 a.m. (Sean swears she is screaming MOM?!  MOM?!).  I finally let her in, because I figured she’d make less noise outside then in.  And she did settle right down until 5 when she got up to cough up a fur ball, complete with thorough histrionics.

The vet had said we would notice a difference in behavior after her mouth was cleaned up, and she does seem more playful.  If only that playfulness didn’t come with a side dish of brat on a bed of brat with a brat coulis, etc.

I also think the Feliway pheromone dispensers, which calm Plum, have a kind of adverse affect on the already calm Posy, making her all spazzy.  She’s been doing a lot of running around, and it is always a sight to see, since you can tell she is running as fast as she can go—and thinks she is exhibiting g-forces—yet to our eye it looks like she is running in slow motion.  Girlfriend will not be winning any sprints anytime soon.

Posy thinking, Bitches!  I'm so fast you didn't

even see me run away and come back!

 

Yow Ling

I think Posy must know it is almost time for the Summer Olympics to begin, as she seems to have dusted off her previous Olympics' persona and become Yow Ling.  She's always been a vocal cat, but ever since our first night here -- which she spent very happily in the upstairs hallway, by choice, singing  all her favorite arias -- she seems to spend a portion of each day talking VERY LOUDLY.

That's right, I'm talking to you!

I've said this before, but it bears repeating:  for a very small cat, Posy has a very big voice.

Moi?

The basement and attic are still her favorite spots, and if you visit her there, she will trumpet a welcome.  Often several welcomes.

Here she is watching her father and sister work in the yard.  She is a few seconds away from opening her mouth and bellowing.

I admit it is sometimes tempting to tell her to put a cork in it.

Put a cork in what?!

But on the whole I am pleased that she seems to like her new home, and feels inspired to narrate her joy with many a musical roar.

Sharing

Plum and Posy have been sharing the pillow under the desk lamp more often than they used to.  I think Posy is less inclined to move and more inclined to hold her ground, and Plum knows that if he climbs on top of her to make her move, I will get angry.  So we have all reached a somewhat comfy detente!

Posy feeling bookish:

And this is what Posy really thinks of my detente:

Singing in the Rain

One of us in this household likes to sing in the shower.  Although to say she "sings" is putting it nicely.  Some might call it caterwauling; others, raising an ungodly racket.

I'll be in another room when all of a sudden I hear a loud wailing coming from the bathroom.  A few years ago I would have gone running, but I've learned by now that it is just Miss Posy Fern singing arias in the tub.  Perhaps she likes the resonance of the tiles?  She certainly knows that it is a safe spot--since neither Plum nor Dorothy will follow her into that evil container.

So Posy gets her groove on, while the other family members wince a bit.

Any requests?

Bah Humbug!

And add to that, a Fa la la la laaaaa, la la la pfffft!

In this next picture, I think Posy's tongue is the equivalent of her flipping me the bird:

Posy is a scrooge!

Thus Spoke Zarathustra

Posy is a small cat with a large set of vocal chords and a lot to say.  In other words, she has a big mouth.

She believes in narrating her day, and she believes in narrating her day loudly.  

For example, when she walks down the hall from one room to another, she meows:  I'M WALKING DOWN THE HALL. I'M PEEKING IN THE BATHROOM.  I'M DECIDING WHETHER OR NOT I NEED TO USE THE LITTERBOX.  I NEED TO USE THE LITTERBOX!  I'M DONE USING THE LITTERBOX.  I'M WALKING INTO THE LIVING ROOM.  I'M JUMPING UP ON THE COUCH, brrrrrrupppp!  I'M JUMPING BACK DOWN, oooooooof.  Etc.  

Such constant cat arias can get a wee bit tiresome on occasion.   

Plus, she has a very LOUD voice for such a little cat.  Plum is 14 pounds and stocky like a British Shorthair should be; despite his size, however, he has what my friend, Elisabeth, once described her cat as having--and that is "a girlish meow."  Plum definitely has a girlish meow, except for in the middle of the night when it seems less "girlish" and more shrill.  Posy is about 5.5 pounds, yet she uses two settings when she speaks:  loud and louder.

She will also get even louder if she thinks you aren't paying attention, or if she is carrying her favorite ball around.  If she has her ball in her mouth, she projects her voice in such a way that it sounds like it is being broadcast between your ears.

In short, Posy caterwauls; she rings in all the hours; she is woman, hear her roar.