Usurped by Grammy

or might Etude Unplugged... be a better title?

by Grammy, the woolly headed scribe.

Good morning, friends.  For once I thought I'd write a blog and not be the butt of the topic.  Now as you know there are five feisty felines living in this abode... and they rule.  Don't let them kid you... hard done by, they are not.  In control of food, they are but only to a degree!  The boys will tell you that I dole out food infrequently and in miniscule portions.  Well, this may be so, but they do get these miniscule portions at least 5 times a day.  YES, FIVE TIMES A DAY! so they aren't deprived by any means.

If I didn't make the effort to portion their food the Holstein vacuums would have the day's allotment devoured before my coffee was brewing. 

We have a routine around here.  Wake up, strip bed on washday, otherwise, make the bed immediately.  Cover neatly made bed with a bunny blanket to protect it from upchucking by Whiskers (a story for another time).   Now, there's a title for another blog.  'Upchucking by Whiskers'  has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?

Well, back to the routine.  Feed the girls - and they get a substantial portion of their daily allotment in their dishes so they can graze all day.  Refresh the water dish and scoop the litterbox.  Then, leave the bedroom closing the door while ensuring the boys are not in said bedroom.  

Head toward kitchen and try not to trip over two hefty, hungry hippos... dole out their daily allotment into small containers kept securely in the cupboard.  This ensures they won't scam me into an extra portion each.  Take their early morning scoopful from there and put it into their dishes.

Once they begin to chow down I can focus on making coffee for me. Truth be told, I would prefer to have my morning coffee before having to go through these gyrations but I've learned!  I do not need galumphing gorillas underfoot while I'm preparing coffee and my breakfast.  No siree.  It isn't worth it.  I prefer my bones in one piece each and a 6th concussion just isn't an option.... So I sacrifice myself for the sake of legs, arms, head AND sanity... though sanity might be in question.

As you've probably noted in the previous dialogue I keep the door to the bedroom closed during the day opening it only at bedtime.  Why?  To keep the boys out, of course while the girls being tiny, lithe little beings are free to come and go at their pleasure.  A cat door was installed a few years ago... to accommodate Mouse's need to have a safe haven from the bullies, to keep these bullies out and to allow the underweight Mousie opportunities to eat at will.

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Now, you must wonder that the boys don't try to go through the cat door.  Well!  Etude did!  ONCE... 

A little background here.  Etude would watch as the girls used the door slipping through with ease... Mousie with her little arcing leap not touching the frame as she flew through the gap.  Whiskers stopping to eye the opening, pondering her method of approach, then springboarding through dragging her hind toes slightly.  The old dear is a bit stodgy and short in the leg... and the door was not made for her leg length but she's a game old thing.  Sweetie approaches the door each time backing up, moving forward, repeat this a couple of times  back and forth, back and forth before finally, like an arrow shot from a bow she darts through the opening.  As you can tell, the door was made for Mousie, not Whiskers short legs and not for Sweetie's long coltish ones but they manage it nicely.

Now Etude, having studied the girls' methods decided one day to visit the delicious bowl of food in the bedroom.  How difficult can it be to go through this contraption? If they can do it, why not me?  So he sucked in his belly, sized up the opening, took a flying leap and...  Oomph!  his girth much bigger than the gap he jiggled and half in, half out, legs dangling either side was not able to get a purchase on anything.  He reminded me of Winnie the Pooh when he was stucked in Rabbit's front door.

Where was I during all this commotion, Etude caterwauling and Rondo commiserating (and girls giggling)?  Well, once I stopped laughing - and that took a while - I supported the tubby's hind feet with one hand and with the other eased his excess girth through to the bedroom. With all his squirming and such it was no easy task, let me tell you.   Was that the end of it?  A resounding YES from Etude and,
Rondo, smart fellow that he is has decided to never attempt such a feat... and just as well.  He's taller, longer in the body and may fit but is more likely to bonk his head on the top frame.  Instead, he sits at the opening, head peering through in hopes one of those food dishes might just fly through the opening to him.

Just like a poet, living in a dream world, Rondo.  

Well, friends, that's all for this week.

​Comments are welcome, friends.  ​

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