Thursday, April 24, 2014

My Pets Think I Control the Weather

Puckett appears to have gotten over her nasty mood of the last few weeks.  This week has become "LOVE ME" week and she will stop at nothing to get her way.  I'm beginning to think the animals just naturally assume I am in charge of the weather.  When the weather is bad, they all act like I have committed some mortal sin and set out to teach  me a lesson by destroying the house and annoying each other.  When the weather is good they flock around me all purrs and mushy looks as if I am to be rewarded for giving them a sunshiney day.

They aren't even outdoor pets, save for the dog.

I know when Puckett absolutely  has had it with everyone and everything, me and the weather included, but the other day she took it to a higher level than I've ever witnessed.  I walked into the kitchen to find her sitting on top of the box in the corner that has been her throne for quite some time, facing the wall.  Not only was she facing the wall, however, she had her face smashed into it, the forehead wedged tightly against the white solidness, eyes shut, ears back.  Her bulk balanced precariously on the box that I have had to set upright in order to keep her from scratching the wooden railings behind it.  It didn't look comfortable at all.  Balancing on a surface that barely contains one's mass is awkward enough, but to ram one's face into the wall for good measure, now to me that just seemed like she was trying to make me feel guilty for something.  I asked her what was wrong.  She turned her head to look at me for a moment, eyes narrowed, then mashed her face back into the wall and resumed the position.

The last couple of days - which have been sunny and in the sixties - my sweet girl has magically returned.  I have awakened each morning to twenty pounds of love jumping onto the bed, purring and rubbing happily against me and the Cowboy.  When we get up, Puckett remains on the bed.  That's when the fun begins.  Usually this is Percy's trick, but for some reason Puckett has decided this week that she needs to hinder the bedmaking routine.  So I snap the sheet in the air and let it settle over bed and cat.  Puckett slips out from under the sheet and settles on top of it, purring.  I straighten and smooth the sheet, then drop the blanket on top of the bed.  There is now a cat shaped lump in the middle of the blanket.  Puckett immediately wriggles out and then follows me from side to corner to side of the bed as I pull the blanket smooth and tuck it in.  She chirps as she does this, like she's chasing a bird or an insect or something.  Finally I drop the comforter on top of her.  She shakes it off, eases on top of it, and finally settles down and licks a paw.  As I finish arranging the comforter nicely, she curls up and goes to sleep.  And there she remains until I get home at five o'clock, and I am quite certain she never moves from that spot.

It's doubly nice for her if I leave the backdoor open and let the air into the bedroom.  Tess sits on the porch outside the door, basking in the sunshine, and Puckett sleeps on the bed.  Even though they are not in the room together, they appear to enjoy the lovely day as one, bringing further evidence that these two just might be soul sisters.


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