#oneaday Day 40: The Cat’s Routine

One of our cats, Patti, is very set in her ways, to a degree that I don’t think I’ve seen in any other cat. She has Her Routine, and we must adhere to Her Routine, otherwise she gets very shouty at us.

The Routine begins anywhere between 5am and 8am with her telling me (not my wife) to wake up. This is accomplished through a combination of standing on me, yelling at me and tapping me with her paw, inevitably with just enough claw extended to make it slightly painful, and inevitably somewhere that you really don’t want a claw, such as my eyelid or lip.

Once I am up, she will continue to yell at me until I go downstairs and put some biscuits in her bowl, which she may or may not deign to eat. Around this time, I must also provide Oliver, the other cat, with some wet food, because he likes wet food and is a growing boy. (Patti should not have wet food, because she tends to throw it up almost immediately. She often ends up eating Oliver’s leftovers, which is usually fine for her apparently delicate digestion to cope with.)

After this breakfast routine is done with, she will almost certainly disappear somewhere in the house for a significant portion of the day. It might be on the windowsill in our bedroom, it might be behind my desk in my study, it might be under my chair in my study, it might be on “her” stool in the spare bedroom. We do not know what she is up to during these hours, but we have determined that if she does not wish to be found, she will not be found. On more than one occasion this has caused a mild panic.

At some point during the day, she will emerge from wherever she was hiding and start hassling me at my desk. This usually takes the form of sitting between my legs and occasionally clawing my knees and thighs. To date, I have not determined what, if anything, she actually wants when this part of The Routine is unfolding. Sometimes she wants a refill of her glass of water — oh yes, both cats refuse to drink out of their water bowls and instead prefer to have a glass left for them: one in the living room, one on the upstairs landing — and sometimes she wants attention. Sometimes I swear she’s just doing it to be annoying.

At some point between 10pm and 11pm, she will decide that it is time for bed. If we are in the hallway, she will attempt to lead us up the stairs. If we are not making any movements that look like they might conclude in the bedroom, she will hassle me (not my wife) repeatedly until I comply with The Routine.

Once in the bedroom, she will sit in Patti Spot on the corner of the bed, usually getting slightly in the way but not enough for me to want to move her, and sleep there for most of the night. Sometimes she will disappear for a while during the night — often to go and eat — but she is usually there in the morning, ready for The Routine to begin anew.

As set in her ways as she is, I could probably learn something from her. And, given that she’s in the “yelling at me to go to bed” stage, that’s probably what I should go and do.


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#oneaday Day 24: I Love My Cats

As probably already very apparent from numerous previous posts, I love my cats. Having cats is one of the greatest pleasures of my adult life. Yes, even when they do this. Of course, it is always heartbreaking when you have to say goodbye, particularly when that parting comes far too soon, but that heartbreak is a sign of all the wonderful times you shared together.

So today I am going to share my cats, because why the hell not.

This is Patti:

And this is Oliver:

Both of them have very strong personalities. We’ve not known Oliver for that long in the grand scheme of things, since we got him a little while after Meg left us, but he’s already settled in very well and is extremely comfortable here.

Patti, meanwhile, has always been a very nervous cat and I suspect she always will be, but she’s very happy when she can spend time with just us. She doesn’t like strangers and she doesn’t like changes to the routine; she likes life to be normal, straightforward and free of surprises. I can relate.

Patti, we suspect, didn’t have the best start to life. All we knew when we got her from a local rescue was that she had been “abandoned” by her previous owner, but we didn’t know the circumstances surrounding that. Surprisingly, she took very well to us almost immediately, but it was also very apparent that she hadn’t really had anyone to teach her how to “cat” properly. There were certain things she’d do that were just a little bit “off” from how most cats do things — she didn’t struggle with anything, as such, but she just behaved like she’d never really been able to quite finish her initial socialisation process.

And given her background, that was understandable. When we got her, she was a tiny little thing. We suspect she was younger than the shelter thought she was, because she’s grown a lot since those days. And while she occasionally plays up a bit due to lingering stress (or possibly even trauma) she is the most lovely thing, and a delight to have around.

Oliver, meanwhile, came to us in a somewhat different way. After Meg passed, we gave it a little while to see how Patti coped, but it felt like she wanted some company, and we both missed the company of having two cats around the house. Unfortunately, post-COVID it had become very difficult to add an additional cat to an existing household in our circumstances; whereas pre-2020 you could go in to the shelter, meet the various cats who were there and talk with the people who ran the place, post-COVID you had to submit a written application and you couldn’t just show up and negotiate or explain your personal circumstances.

As such, my wife Andie decided to look for private sales. We saw a few possibilities, but got slightly bad vibes from one, so we politely excused ourselves from that situation. Then a suitable-looking candidate came up, but by the time Andie enquired, he had already been sold to someone. We were becoming a little frustrated by the situation, but we kept looking.

Two weeks later, Andie saw a familiar-looking cat listed. He had a different name, but he definitely looked familiar. We enquired about him, and indeed it seemed like the present owner had only bought him two weeks previously; unfortunately, she had discovered in that time that she was allergic to cats, so regretfully had to let him go. This time around, we were able to secure him and bring him home.

For the first couple of weeks, he was a pain. Constantly yowling from the other room, being a little aggressively dominant towards Patti, and worst of all, pissing on everything. We knew he hadn’t been neutered before picking him up, but we didn’t realise quite what a problem that could be, particularly with another cat in the house. As a priority, we made arrangements for him to have the snip and just stuck things out until then. We also made sure Patti got plenty of love and attention during this time.

Thankfully, after he was “done”, Oliver became a thoroughly lovely cat. He’s very friendly — though he hasn’t quite graduated to Patti’s level of “bed cuddles” yet — and extremely curious. He’s also a cheeky little bugger; on more than one occasion we’ve caught him fishing food packets out of the bin, and he stole and ripped open a bag of treats on one occasion, too. He likes to eat.

Patti very much wasn’t sure about him at first. She’d keep her distance, hiss and growl at him. But over time, her reaction to him softened somewhat. She’d allow him to approach a little more before hissing, and the growling stopped. Eventually, the hissing stopped, too (unless he does something to really piss her off) and now the two seem to be actual friends, which is wonderfully heartwarming to see.

Patti and Meg got along, but Meg was always a grumpy cat — she even had a note on her vet’s file that she was uncooperative and angry — and as such, despite clearly liking Patti (she’d come looking for her if she didn’t know where she was) she’d keep her a bit at arm’s length. Patti and Oliver are, I think, becoming quite close; there’s still a bit of mistrust on Patti’s part for entirely understandable reasons, but Oliver has always wanted to be her friend, and that hasn’t changed even with his horny bits being removed.

I love them both very much, just as I still love Meg, Ruby and my childhood cats Kitty and Penny. The cats I have known will forever be a precious part of my family, and those who are no longer with us will always have a place in my heart.


Want to read my thoughts on various video games, visual novels and other popular culture things? Stop by MoeGamer.net, my site for all things fun where I am generally a lot more cheerful. And if you fancy watching some vids on classic games, drop by my YouTube channel.