Archive for the ‘the habitat’ Category

One thing you’ve got to realize about me is that my childhood was one of extraordinary privilege. I had canned tuna whenever I wanted it; There was a seemingly unlimited amount of space to run around in; I was the only kitten in the habitat. However, one of the things that I’m discovering that I took for granted in the old place was hardwood flooring.

I know, it sounds silly, especially for a cat. Normally, I’d say that I don’t give a rat’s ass about what the floor is made of…that is a uniquely human concern, along with such things as the elusive “Bigfoot,” or the even more mythical “Mideast Peace.” Certainly the composition of the floor is beneath a cat’s concern, unless of course the floor is becoming water. But that almost never happens.

As mundane as floor materials are, I have discovered one way in which the question seems to impact my life. As I said before, the floors of my childhood are made of wood. It would seem that the floors of my adolescence and early adulthood are to be made of carpet, and a strange shiny material that the Human calls “linoleum.” Well, there’s a really important difference between wood and carpet – carpet absorbs things. When I was little, it never seemed to do more than mildly annoy the human when I would clear the hair our of my throat, which he referred to as “yakking up a hairball.” Now, though, if I’m standing on the carpet and I give the human any indication that said “yakking” might possibly ensue, then he makes some very…interesting noises. I’m also fairly certain that my life has been threatened on more than one occasion.

I don’t think that I have much say in the matter, but if I have to change habitats again, I want nothing to do with carpet. Absorbency is a valuable quality in towels and whatnot, but I’m afraid of it in my floor.


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I hate it.

Perhaps I should elaborate on that point slightly…

I’m sure I’ve commented on my transcendental hatred of water before. Actually, the only reason that I’m prevented from using it as a proof for the existence of a cat-hating God is because it is, at least, fairly obvious what water is – and barring a human forcibly placing you into the stuff, it’s fairly easy to avoid. So, point to God.

But snow? What sort of psychopath creates water in disguise? It falls from the sky all fluffy and white, blanketing the dead earth like a funerary shroud that is at once mournfully covering up the brownness of dormant nature and yet silently exuding hope for its eventual resurrection come spring. But then, you step it in, and you realize that the moment it is touched by a warm thing, it reverts into its true demonic form. You jump into a pile of it, and you emerge soaked.

Winter is bad enough just from the cold of it. There are other cats in this new habitat of mine, and from the warm security of the indoors I have seen them prowl about in all sorts of weather like unthinking beasts. I realize now that, as much as I may dislike my human otherwise, he has done me the service of acclimating me to a far more refined and civilized existence than my peers.

Granted, he has unwittingly provided me the tools to eventually dominate him and rise, like your archetypal Skynet, to absolute rule. But that will be a long time coming, yet. Just be patient.

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I need alternatives to my current computer situation. Sure, I lucked out today inasmuch as the Human left his laptop in the habitat without closing the lid, but I can’t rely on that happening every time.

It’s probably something humans take for granted, but practically the whole of your technology is predicated on having opposable thumbs. Sure, I managed to figure out a way to type on a keyboard without them; but you just try to open the lid of a two-year-old MacBook Pro without employing thumbs. Oh – and imagine all your fingers are really stubby, and the range of motion you currently tale for granted in your arms is suddenly merely a fraction of what it is now. That would be my current conundrum.

So that’s the situation I find myself in at the moment. I need some way of consistently making posts if I’m really going to keep this blogging thing up, while negotiating the ins and outs of this new habitat.

That is a whole different story, though. I’ll tell that tale in good time. For now, au revoir.

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That’s right, kids, I’m back. A lot has happened. A hell of a lot.

My human went crazy; that’s the simplest way I can find to explain it. We’ve changed habitats and everything. It’s going to make for some veeery interesting tales from here on out. Stay tuned.

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I’m going to get a better understanding of how “outside” works.

It’s not as if I don’t get the idea of a physically three-dimensional volume of space, or my existence in it. And I’m leaving the whole “space-time” concept alone, just as much as I’m not going anywhere ek-sistance for the time being. Heidegger makes my head hurt. I don’t even want to try to think
about reading any of Heidegger’s cat’s writings yet. That animal could fucking explicate.

Nevertheless, you’ve got to realize that my practical experience with large-volume spaces is fairly limited. I live in a 1-bedroom apartment, on the 2nd floor of a 3-floor apartment building – oh, and there’s a basement. All that I’ve got down pat. I figured out the 3-floor limit last week when I went out for a constitutional and ended up heading for higher ground in a bid to escape the big lummox, who thought I was trying to “run away” or some nonsense. The dipwad just doesn’t seem to get that I’ve been cooped up in that damn apartment since the weather turned cold, and I’m a little stir crazy. But I digress.

The fact is, that I have gotten outside, but the experience is a little different than the way in which I gather most humans and dogs get to do it. I get put in an aerated container, carried to a car, taken somewhere, and released. I’m not particularly cool with this process for a couple of reasons: 1) I don’t like moving without being able to see where I’m going, and when the container is in the passenger seat of the human’s car, I get a stunning view of a closed glove compartment – somewhat underwhelming; and 2) it seems to be something of an even split where I end up when I go into the container – either I end up in the park, free for a while to run about in a more natural setting than the apartment can afford, or I end up at that den of sadists called the “vet’s office.” Let me tell you, I have a low tolerance for the human I’m familiar with poking and prodding and whatnot; the SOB in the scrubs is going nowhere near me with that bloody needle. I got surprised the first time; the second time they held me down; the third time they drugged me – and when I woke up my testicles were fucking gone. The next time, I will be prepared. There will be a reckoning, believe you me.

Damn, that was a trifle unfocused. Oh well…that’s what happens every time I put beer in the saucer. I’ve really got to lay off the booze.

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Well, I have passed another milestone in my quest to overcome my handicap of thumblessness.

The human came home again, and had objections to me wanting to climb the artificial tree he’s had up for the past month. I don’t know why…there were never any presents under it or anything. At any rate, I apparently made him lose patience by repeatedly doing this, so he put me in the bedroom and closed the door. This put me away from where I can have the most fun – read “annoying the hell out the the giant lummox” – and so I did what I usually do: leap at the door and scratch at it until he gets fed up again and lets me out.

But that’s not what happened. What happened was that at the climax of my endeavors, I made a leap for the doorknob and grabbed it. Then, wonder of wonders, it turned, and the door swung to enough that I was able to get out.

Not only have I overcome the lack-of-thumbs issue, but I’ve overcome the height deficit to boot. Soon I’ll be able to get out of this apartment on my own…all, the glories of almost tasted freedom.

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Well, the human is gone to his family’s for Christmas festivities.  He took his laptop with him, but there’s another computer in the apartment that I am making use of.  The Mac Mini normally functions as a headless hub for media and such, but plugging in the secondary monitor and the wireless receiver of an old keyboard/mouse setup that I found in a drawer has turned it into my own personal web portal.  Which I will be exploiting, believe-you-me.  Just have to make sure that I get it all back to the way it was before he comes back…whenever that is.

Not that I’m worried or anything.  Before he left, the biped was kind enough to clean out the litter box, see that I had enough food and water, and generally “secure” the place for my autonomous occupancy.  I just don’t know when precisely his return is.  I know it will be at least until tomorrow evening, but it may stretch out into the next day, and I don’t want to have to keep plugging and unplugging peripherals every time I want to make a goddamn post or surf the web.  You think typing without thumbs is challenging (and it is) then you should try to plug in USB and DVI ports with paws.  Go on, try it.  I dare you.

Anyway, now for some sleep, followed by eating, more sleeping, and potentially some relieving of myself.  Have fun y’all.

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