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Posts Tagged ‘Himmie’

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Well, it helped me. There are too many depressing stories on the news just now…

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Colorful standoff

She has the patch of sunlight; he has the crumpled paper and the toy….

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reformedleiaJust look at this lovely puff of fur — finally ready for her close-up and she isn’t even completely freaked about the camera flash.  I am so deeply grateful to whatever it was that got Leia back into civil society.  I’ve gotten off all but one of the fur knots [it’s tricky clipping close to the neck], and she stays visible even when workmen enter the house [unless they enter her room, but that’s just sensible]. It is utterly hysterical when she wakes up abruptly from a nap and announces she wants attention.

How do I know what she wants? She keeps chattering until I come over and pet her. Even if “want!”, “here!” and “more!” are the only items in her little vocabulary, at least I can do something to show her the world is a coherent place — she can make things happen that she likes.  For months I couldn’t figure out if there _was_ anything she wanted, other than for everybody to just go to hell.

Yes, her eyes are bluer than that, but the flash washes them out. Because her eyes are blue, she’s more likely to show red-eye in photos than the other cats, but it does make it easier to tell them apart in the gloaming…

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But here she is anyway:  Leia! 

A few days ago, when we came downstairs to give the cats their evening meal, there she was, very much the Princess, blocking access to the food [it’s in the low cabinet she’s sitting on]. I didn’t dare use a flash; we’re trying to convince her that people are not evil, and that being seen isn’t going to lead to unpleasant consequences.

With luck, there will be better pictures of her in the future. But for now I can at least prove that there is a Himmie in the house.

As I was typing this at my desk, which faces the window, away from the bed beneath which she hides, I heard crunching behind me — she’d come out to eat some kibble.  Then she moved into the doorway, and then out into the hall, to wash. This effectively “traps” me in my office, and my Beloved in the bedroom.  Some of you out there have already realized this means that whether or not we think we are making progress in domesticating this cat, she is finding ways to control the household just fine on her own!

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