Monday started early when a cat woke TPP to tell him that a thunderstorm was approaching, a fact he would find out himself in another 10 to 15 minutes. She's got good hearing and is a little afraid of thunder. The morning news confirmed that here in Lincolnland politics particularly the state's gerrymandered election districts were not going change because a political hired gun of a legal persuasion managed to convince a judge that the half a million signatures, more than twice the total needed, were invalid so the voter initiative would not be on the ballot. Democracy in action. Yeah, sure. BTW you only need 5000 signatures to become a candidate for governor. And then SCOTUS amazes us with the contorted legal logic they use to empower corporations at the expense of individuals. This after the most buffered branch of the government decides that women entering clinics don't need any spatial protection from the friendly counselors attempting to harass and intimidate them. SCOTUS needs a good dose of their own medicine. Actually some of the justices just need to get out every year or so and see how people actually live and behave. On the good news front, more rain fell and Costa Rica won at the world cup. Ole mis amigos. Maybe the cat has the right idea; find a quiet place safe from thunder boomers and go back to sleep.
Here's a link to a blog about the genetic relatedness of tigers and domestic house cats from a recent publication. This is actually no big surprise, except to the blog author (PZ Myers) who's never had a cat. Anyone who's had a cat knows that your pet is just a small purring tiger. And some of them aren't so small; the F1 has a 26 pound beast who looks very impressive, but isn't all that fierce except if you get between him and his kibble. It's always funny to read about first-timer's impressions of cats. Every couple of weeks, all the cat toys get rounded up and placed in a small basket in the family room near their scatching post/climbing tree. Then the kitty girls begin rummaging around for favorites that begin to get distributed around the house again, often one to a room, just like a tiger.
Mrs. Phactor related this cat factoid to me last night: 73% of cat owners let their cat sleep on their bed. This is simply not true, not factually accurate. First, even assuming that their data is correct, the statement is simple wrong. Stated correctly this factoid should read: 73% of cats decide to sleep on their owners' beds. What makes people think it was their decision? Duh! Second, our data, albeit a smaller sample size, suggests at least 84% of cats want to sleep on your bed, but rarely two at one time. In all cases the younger of the pair prevails in occupying the bed space even when there is room for two with considerable spatial separation. Exceptions are usually siblings. Our number 2 cat having been dispossessed of bed space keeps a careful watch on the guest bed, and should you visit be assured that you too can have a cat sleep with you. It's a service the cats provide. You're welcome, and if you do not own a cat and don't actually like cats that much, it virtually assures attentive service. During our waking hours though, the not-the-bed cat has become the adoring lap cat. Third, almost all cat owners know that when you are not around, all cats sleep on the bed, all, especially it you are one of the 27% of cat-owning fools who think you can keep them off the bed. They'll also sleep on the dining room table, on the kitchen chairs, in the laundry basket, on top of book shelves, on the living room furniture, on the dog, in you closet, in the clothes dryer, and indeed, anywhere they can access. We have considered a cat cam, but why confirm what you already know especially if it's going to bother you? About 24% of our cats haven't actually slept on the bed, but rather they slept on you while you were in bed. One hefty lunk used to drape himself across my ankles using them rather like a chaise lounge and leaving TPP lame until the circulation was restored in the morning. One used to wrap around Mrs. Phactors head and purr, and another use to snuggly occupy the curvature made by the backside of her legs. This was a big cat so guess who would get pushed out of bed? Oh, and he snored, or breathed heavily at any rate, and she loved him dearly. And how is all this behavior explained? The basic cat philosophy is simple to understand: all this is mine.
One trouble with lots of snow cover, it encourages the bunnies to turn to bark and twigs for food. Now even though a couple of miles of rabbit fencing protects many trees and shrubs, there's always something that either isn't protected, something we forgot to fence, or a convenient snow drift that provides access to winter fodder within. A meander around the estate suggests that oak-leafed hydrangeas are bunny favorites. Neither a red spirea nor a flowering quince will need any pruning some spring; they've been quite neatly cut back. That's twice now for the quince; you'd think we'd learn. Although hardly an effective counter measure, our long-haired kitten whose breed hails from nothern latitudes wanted out for a walk, and this snow is sort of weird stuff, but let's go look in shrubbery for rabbits anyways. Who can argue with that? At least it tries to earn its keep. And a free-loading squirrel got quite a surprise because this predator climbs trees! What fun to be a young cat, even if harnessed to a long leash.