WINNIE SNIPPETS
The Day the Earth Moved
It was a beautiful late spring morning when my friend Judy and I set out for a coffee and chat alongside the canal. We caught up on our lives, reminisced, planned our retirement years, straightened out the world at large...that kind of thing. As we chatted, a woman on a bike stopped to ask if we heard about the earthquake in Toronto an hour ago. Well, no we hadn't and she didn't have any further news about it, so we continued on with our chat. A couple hours later, Judy dropped me off at home. Upstairs I found my neighbour Carol, who had come up to use my computer, shaken and barely able to get her words out. She was holding tightly onto Winnie, who jumped down and came running to me. Wow...a welcoming committee! Seems that Carol had been hard at work on the computer, when all of a sudden she heard the scurrying of four little paws, then Winnie streaked from the bedroom (where she had probably been snoozing under the bed) into the office. Carol said Winnie just stared at her, eyes as big as saucers and she looked SCARED. As Carol leaned forward to pick her up, the chair in which she was sitting started sliding across the room. She's trying to stand up and get to Winnie but can't quite get out of the moving chair. Winnie came to her instead -- in a single bound, she jumped into Carol's lap, who held onto her for dear life. She said by this time, she could feel their heartbeats and she couldn't tell whose was beating the hardest. The whole shaking thing lasted only seconds, but she wasn't letting go of Winnie. She asked if we had felt anything and I said, no we hadn't, but a lady had told us Toronto had an earthquake. We turned on the news to discover that there had been a 5.0 earthquake in Quebec and the tremors were felt throughout Southern Ontario, Quebec and parts of the States. I felt so sorry for both of them...having felt earth tremors twice myself, I can attest to how scary it is in those first few seconds when the earth starts moving and you don't know where the epicentre is! I was thankful that they were safe and that Carol had been upstairs with Winnie and it was the impetus I needed to get my own disaster plan in place. Perhaps the safest place to be, however, would be at that canal...Judy and I hadn't felt a thing!
In the Boss's Chair
I had just brought home a new office chair (well, gently used, but new to me) -- comfy, well padded, fully adjustable. Of course, it had to pass Winnie's sniff test, as did everything that came into our apartment. Over the course of a few days, I broke the chair in to my satisfaction -- Winnie, as usual would jump onto my lap as I worked and sniff around the arms and back of the chair. On this particular day, I had been hard at work on my computer most of the day -- trying to finish up a project by day's end. I got up for a short, much-needed stretch - went to the fridge for something and when I came back to my office, there was Winnie laying in my chair. She was all stretched out over the width of the chair -- looked like she had hunkered down for the day. Well, no -- I have work to do. I tried to shoo her down but she wasn't movin', so I picked her up and set her on the floor. She gave her little sounds of displeasure and just stood there looking at me. When I pointedly ignored her, she turned around and stalked down the hallway to the livingroom. Hours later, I needed another break. I went into the kitchen and when I turned on the tap, I heard Winnie jump down from whatever perch she had been on down the hall. I no sooner heard the thump of her paws hitting the floor when she streaked by me, hell-bent-for-leather. I wondered what was happening that made her run so fast. As I turned off the tap, the pitter patter of little paws stopped - just inside the office. At that point, I had a sneaking suspicion and a peek into the office confirmed that suspicion. There, ensconced like a queen on her throne, in MY chair, was Winnie. I was incredulous that she had waited a couple hours to hear me move from my chair and leave the room long enough for her to commandeer that chair. She layed there staring at me as if to say "whatcha gonna do about it?". Well, just WATCH and see what I'm going to do about it little missy! I went back to the kitchen, grabbed a hard wooden folding chair, brought it back to the office. Slid the office chair away from my computer, set the wooden chair up in front of my computer - sat on it and got back to work. Determination that strong should be rewarded and for the next few days, when she jumped into the office chair, I'd set up my little folding chair and we'd sit side by side -- me working away, she soaking up the pleasure of once again being the BOSS. She eventually went on to bigger and better lounging places and now just occasionally sleeps in the the big boss chair -- just enough to remind me of who the boss really is in our home!
Kitten of Mass Destruction
I knew that dogs (well, at least my dog) were hard on home decor, but I wasn't prepared for a little bitty kitten wreaking havoc on our apartment. I woke up one morning to strange noises and, peering through sleepy eyes, saw Winnie standing on two legs atop my 7 foot armoire. She was stretching up as far as she could reach -- far enough obviously, to reach the beautiful wallpaper border at ceiling level. She had already torn down a large area above her and was in the process of finishing up the job. When I spoke sternly to her, she jumped, looked at me and proceeded to lay down and chew up the pieces that had fallen on the armoire. Well, that was the end of my snooze! I called her down and gave her a lecture thinking that might do the trick but every time I turned my back that day, she was up there again. Finally, I got out my ladder and stretching precariously across to the wall, took down the border on that wall. Well, I've yet to get to the paper backing that's left up. You know the drill -- soak and scrape, soak and scrape. A job for a later day.
Passing by the bedroom another day, I spotted Winnie on top of the armoire, stretched out towards the light fixture. She was trying to get at a fly buzzing about the light. Now, this fixture hangs a bit from the ceiling and is attached to the plate with 3 small chains -- sturdy enough for everyday use, but it was NOT made for a 10-lb cat to swing from. I yelled at her, which I never do - hoping to scare her enough so she wouldn't try it while I was away. Seems to have done the trick, 'cause I haven't caught her at it again, although that could be due to the fact that I moved the heavy armoire further down the floor and put a much smaller dresser in its place. Glad I don't have chandeliers around for her to swing from!
Then, there are her toys -- my goodness! Cat nip balls? Uh uh ... chews them to shreds; fishing pole teasers - same thing. She has a fling-a-ma-thing, which I wrote about earlier and which I've just started using again. I've had it up for a few days now and the string has been shredded and, but for my eagle eye, would be eaten by now. Anything small that drops on the floor is up for grabs -- and to be eaten. I learned with my dog not to take any medication out of the bathroom and to open the bottle over the sink; I continue this with Winnie. I can spend hours looking for a coin I've dropped -- be it a dime or a loonie because as soon as Win hears anything drop, she's right there, searching with me. If I drop anything edible (except for her treats), she doesn't go near it -- that's no fun. Oh, yes - her treats. As I mentioned, I now bake her treats from her canned cat food. She sure does love those treats. I (used to) set them on top of the stove to cool when they're baked, covered with a paper towel. One day, I walked into the kitchen to put them away and discovered a paper towel with tiny little bite marks running along the edges. A quarter of the baking pan had been cleared of treats. Now, of course, she knows she's absolutely not allowed on the stove but did that deter her? These days, her treats cool on top of the fridge but I'm sure it's just a matter of time before she moves aside the laundry basket that sits on top of the dryer, impeding her access to the fridge top.
You've heard the saying "..can't fight his way out of a wet paper bag"? Well, Winnie can chew her way out of a heavy gauge paper bag. I got us a huge yard waste paper bag to play and hide in. The first one, she chewed up and, fortunately, spit out. Threw that one away and got out another one. She soon learned that this was a fun toy to hide in and jump out at me, swatting me with her paw as I pass by, so we've managed to keep this one intact for quite a while. I really haven't found a toy I can leave her alone with when I'm at work, but I'm open to suggestions. Motorized mice? She's not interested 'cause they're too hard to chew on.
Window screens are her favourite and I've occasionally come out to the livingroom to see her clinging for dear life to a window screen, trying to get at a squirrel or flock of birds. Have to leave the windows open just a crack when I'm home, except for the room I happen to be in. When I'm out, windows have to be closed completely...I just don't trust that she won't push aside a sliding window or squeeze under a pull-up window.
I set out to organize my photographs one day. In preparation for the day, I bought eight new photo albums; my current ones were old and falling apart. Took several days to organize them into family units, take them out of the old albums, insert into new albums. Finally, they were all lined up nicely on my bookshelf -- pretty, new, organized -- a job well done! Weeks later, I went to get a photo to download and my eyes fell upon a perfectly-aligned row of white spots on the first half of the albums. Picking one up, I saw ... guess what... little TEETH marks! Little, crescent-shaped bite marks taken out of my brand new, lovely photo albums. Well, kinda late for a lecture at this point. I took the darned photo albums and piled them in a closed-in storage unit. At least they're still organized!
Now, I expect some collateral damage with a cat -- scratching furniture, digging up carpet...you know, cat stuff. That's why I have scratchable furniture -- nothing expensive, just sensible pet furniture. I don't expect the little throw rugs I (used to) put down to be chewed to bits but surprise, surprise -- they were. She has many scratching posts to sharpen her little claws on so she no longer scratches up the baseboards and doors (a relief to my landlady I'm sure, although she refused payment for any damage -- that's what cats do). How blessed I am to have always lived in places with pet-loving owners!
Passing by the bedroom another day, I spotted Winnie on top of the armoire, stretched out towards the light fixture. She was trying to get at a fly buzzing about the light. Now, this fixture hangs a bit from the ceiling and is attached to the plate with 3 small chains -- sturdy enough for everyday use, but it was NOT made for a 10-lb cat to swing from. I yelled at her, which I never do - hoping to scare her enough so she wouldn't try it while I was away. Seems to have done the trick, 'cause I haven't caught her at it again, although that could be due to the fact that I moved the heavy armoire further down the floor and put a much smaller dresser in its place. Glad I don't have chandeliers around for her to swing from!
Then, there are her toys -- my goodness! Cat nip balls? Uh uh ... chews them to shreds; fishing pole teasers - same thing. She has a fling-a-ma-thing, which I wrote about earlier and which I've just started using again. I've had it up for a few days now and the string has been shredded and, but for my eagle eye, would be eaten by now. Anything small that drops on the floor is up for grabs -- and to be eaten. I learned with my dog not to take any medication out of the bathroom and to open the bottle over the sink; I continue this with Winnie. I can spend hours looking for a coin I've dropped -- be it a dime or a loonie because as soon as Win hears anything drop, she's right there, searching with me. If I drop anything edible (except for her treats), she doesn't go near it -- that's no fun. Oh, yes - her treats. As I mentioned, I now bake her treats from her canned cat food. She sure does love those treats. I (used to) set them on top of the stove to cool when they're baked, covered with a paper towel. One day, I walked into the kitchen to put them away and discovered a paper towel with tiny little bite marks running along the edges. A quarter of the baking pan had been cleared of treats. Now, of course, she knows she's absolutely not allowed on the stove but did that deter her? These days, her treats cool on top of the fridge but I'm sure it's just a matter of time before she moves aside the laundry basket that sits on top of the dryer, impeding her access to the fridge top.
You've heard the saying "..can't fight his way out of a wet paper bag"? Well, Winnie can chew her way out of a heavy gauge paper bag. I got us a huge yard waste paper bag to play and hide in. The first one, she chewed up and, fortunately, spit out. Threw that one away and got out another one. She soon learned that this was a fun toy to hide in and jump out at me, swatting me with her paw as I pass by, so we've managed to keep this one intact for quite a while. I really haven't found a toy I can leave her alone with when I'm at work, but I'm open to suggestions. Motorized mice? She's not interested 'cause they're too hard to chew on.
Window screens are her favourite and I've occasionally come out to the livingroom to see her clinging for dear life to a window screen, trying to get at a squirrel or flock of birds. Have to leave the windows open just a crack when I'm home, except for the room I happen to be in. When I'm out, windows have to be closed completely...I just don't trust that she won't push aside a sliding window or squeeze under a pull-up window.
I set out to organize my photographs one day. In preparation for the day, I bought eight new photo albums; my current ones were old and falling apart. Took several days to organize them into family units, take them out of the old albums, insert into new albums. Finally, they were all lined up nicely on my bookshelf -- pretty, new, organized -- a job well done! Weeks later, I went to get a photo to download and my eyes fell upon a perfectly-aligned row of white spots on the first half of the albums. Picking one up, I saw ... guess what... little TEETH marks! Little, crescent-shaped bite marks taken out of my brand new, lovely photo albums. Well, kinda late for a lecture at this point. I took the darned photo albums and piled them in a closed-in storage unit. At least they're still organized!
Now, I expect some collateral damage with a cat -- scratching furniture, digging up carpet...you know, cat stuff. That's why I have scratchable furniture -- nothing expensive, just sensible pet furniture. I don't expect the little throw rugs I (used to) put down to be chewed to bits but surprise, surprise -- they were. She has many scratching posts to sharpen her little claws on so she no longer scratches up the baseboards and doors (a relief to my landlady I'm sure, although she refused payment for any damage -- that's what cats do). How blessed I am to have always lived in places with pet-loving owners!