So we babysat a kitten today. Meg and Chris’ little dude – Winston. I won’t lie – it was a bit of shake-up to the little cat-ocracy evident in this little Auchenflower cottage. Sasha didn’t really know how to handle it when they came face-to-face or maybe I should say — whisker-to-whisker. Ultimately Sasha was about 25% bigger than Winston, but he was doing all the posturing and hissing. So she was just silent, attentive, but uneasy — which was just a bit unsettling to me too.
And so the meaning of all this was a 12 hour sojourn to hide Winston from the evil, evil forces of the real estate inspection — itself a terrible invasion upon those in society that choose, or have it chosen upon them, to live in rented accommodation.
So Winston arrived at 7:30am and our cat was around but kinda didn’t seem to notice. So she was locked OUT and Winston was locked IN.
I played with this little blonde bad-boy for a bit until it became apparent he was being noticed. From the front deck, outside the window, Sasha looked on. Not very impressed.
They both then had this stare-off until we put poor Winston inside his little room at the back of the house and I trundled off to work. Meanwhile Sasha was forbidden by closed doors from getting further into the house other than the main bedroom.
So then I spent those hours at work a bit conscious of what drama might be occurring at home. And eventually I came back to find Sasha being so sooky and sleeping in the bedroom – the only part of the house she was privy to. It was like she thought she was in trouble and that was why we had brought a new cat into the house. After some cuddles, food and reassurance she went out again seemingly oblivious Winston was in that tiny computer room out the back. So then I started playing some games with Winston. He had, after all, been stuck in that tiny room for 8 hours.
So we played the game where I tied a bit of string to the tail of my Totoro mite.
Then he ripped the shit out of my wrist and hand in scratchy fighting games. He’s a good fighter but needs to work on his rabbit-kicks.
But then when we were doing another round of the Totoro game – outside I saw Sasha watching through the window in absolute horror. It was like she had caught me cheating.
So I put Winston back in his tiny room and did my best to console Sash. “I didn’t mean it…he means nothing to me. Oh god, take me back!”
And then Megan and Chris were picking up Winston (above) and the cat did a bit of lap-sitting and a lot of purring and a lot of looking like she was sorry for all the bad stuff she had ever, ever done. And she had a lot to atone for, which took up about only 1 hour of looking seriously penitent. Now she is back to be a normal puss, sometimes naughty, perpetually fractious but always horribly feline.
OTHER PHOTZ FROM THIS WEEK:
Tonight’s edition of Channel 9’s “luke-warm-seat-you-have-to-share-a-bit-too-much”
I went to Muzza Crit Track (Murrarie) for the first time ever on that wet Saturday just passed.
It’s actually a lot more dramatic and interesting than Nundah. Apart from a bunch of deadshits who chose to walk, run, skateboard, and sleep all over it without much concern – it was actually nice.
But then I had forgotten how shit my life was and was reminded so when I got a flat on the way home. UGH!
Last look as we went off to see “The Dictator” at the Blue Room on Sunday. GOOD MOOFIE!
The cat has been impossibly chummy ever since. I can’t help thinking this just might be a good thing.
Oh and just one more time, in EXTREME CLOSE UP: