Discoveries in the new home...
Coperni-kitty is back with me, and I couldn't be happier. She sleeps her cute, kitten-y little self beside me every day. She greets us at the door when we come in, and howls in protest when we leave. She chases toys about the kitchen while we cook, and sits happily by the windows while we eat. SuperNan has taught her to fear tabletops, and so she has given up sitting beside my plate while I eat and helping herself tot he occasional tidbit. I love her, and I'm so happy to have her back in my life. I extend, once again, my sincerest of thanks to Bigman and SuperNan, for 1) Finding my kitty and 2) Babysitting my kitty while I was in the Depths of Hell.
There is but one problem with my kitty. It's one that has been upsetting my roommate and I endlessly.
Remember that Episode of Friends where Phoebe sings about the smelly cat?
Coperni-kitty has become the smelly cat. She smells awful.
It's not so much her that smells, as it is the odor that she leaves behind every time she uses her facilities.
Her facilities, unfortunately, are located in the same house as Azia and I.
There is really no polite way to discuss this issue, and Lord knows I don't want to go offending the internet with tales of my odiferous cat.
I'll say now that this is not a pleasant thing to be dealing with, and that a solution must be found posthaste.
If not, it's off the balcony she goes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The other issue I'm currently dealing with is the bed that I got courtesy of my grandmother.
It's wonderful to have a bed.
I'm not complaining about the fact that I have a bed.
Please, dear Lord, do not let anybody who has had a hand in my getting a bed take this the wrong way.
The bed is stamped that it is circa 1901. And no, I'm not exagerating, or making it up, or anything. I'm telling you the truth dammit, and the truth is that I'm pretty sure the damn thing has given me nerve dammage because yesterday at work I could hardly stand up straight because of the shooting pain in my spine. I wasn't that concerned until I lost all feeling in my left arm.
Fortunately, it was only a temporary loss of feeling. This too shall pass, I'm sure. Until then, I figure it's a good thing that I'm right handed: I don't use my left hand that often anyways. So we're safe.
For now.
Unlike me, Copernicus loves this bed. She thinks it's great.
I've a feeling that the fact that Copernicus loves the bed has to do with the fact that it has spent the last six months in a barn. Now, fortunately, no livestock have been inhabiting this barn for quite some time. However, there is a certain odor that remains in a barn no matter how long it has been without livestock. It's not a bad odor, per se. It is more like a musty smell of straw and dander, feed dust and chafe. I find the smell very comforting and homey when I walk by the barn on my weekends at the ranch.
However, I have never, at any point in my life, expressed a desire to be immersed in this odor while I sleep. Copernicus, on the other hand, wants nothing more than to rub and purr into the odor of dust, dander, straw, and chafe. She rubs her happy little self into the sheets with a grin of staisfaction on her face. (Yes, my cat can grin, dammit. She is that special).
The other concern that comes with this bed (Circa 1901, having spent the last six months in a barn) is that it may or may not have brought a mouse into the new digs. Every night, my Coperni-kitty and I lay our pretty little heads down to sleep, and Copernicus gets distracted by something that is outside of my hearing range. She makes a little hunting kitty sound, gets up, and proceeds to dig until she can wedge her way into the box spring. (Ever seen a box spring that is circa 1901? It's somewhat different that the luxurious creations of the Sealy Matress company, let me tell you.) Once she has wedged herself in there, the chase begins. She goes up one end and down the other, she runs in circles and shakes the entire bed. It could easily be a giant dustbunny, or a fluffball, or a feather that has left the mattress (I'm pretty sure that the matress is stuffed with feathers rather than actual mattress stuffing materials....) However, having had the experiences with rodents that I've had in my lifetime, it would not surpise me in the least to find that my bed has brought with it a friend.
So, every night, without feeling in my left arm, I am lulled to sleep by the sound of Copernicus chasing what sounds like a mouse beneath the 1901 box spring of my bed, surrounded by the musty smell of straw and chafe.
It's good to be home.
Toonses
There is but one problem with my kitty. It's one that has been upsetting my roommate and I endlessly.
Remember that Episode of Friends where Phoebe sings about the smelly cat?
Coperni-kitty has become the smelly cat. She smells awful.
It's not so much her that smells, as it is the odor that she leaves behind every time she uses her facilities.
Her facilities, unfortunately, are located in the same house as Azia and I.
There is really no polite way to discuss this issue, and Lord knows I don't want to go offending the internet with tales of my odiferous cat.
I'll say now that this is not a pleasant thing to be dealing with, and that a solution must be found posthaste.
If not, it's off the balcony she goes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The other issue I'm currently dealing with is the bed that I got courtesy of my grandmother.
It's wonderful to have a bed.
I'm not complaining about the fact that I have a bed.
Please, dear Lord, do not let anybody who has had a hand in my getting a bed take this the wrong way.
The bed is stamped that it is circa 1901. And no, I'm not exagerating, or making it up, or anything. I'm telling you the truth dammit, and the truth is that I'm pretty sure the damn thing has given me nerve dammage because yesterday at work I could hardly stand up straight because of the shooting pain in my spine. I wasn't that concerned until I lost all feeling in my left arm.
Fortunately, it was only a temporary loss of feeling. This too shall pass, I'm sure. Until then, I figure it's a good thing that I'm right handed: I don't use my left hand that often anyways. So we're safe.
For now.
Unlike me, Copernicus loves this bed. She thinks it's great.
I've a feeling that the fact that Copernicus loves the bed has to do with the fact that it has spent the last six months in a barn. Now, fortunately, no livestock have been inhabiting this barn for quite some time. However, there is a certain odor that remains in a barn no matter how long it has been without livestock. It's not a bad odor, per se. It is more like a musty smell of straw and dander, feed dust and chafe. I find the smell very comforting and homey when I walk by the barn on my weekends at the ranch.
However, I have never, at any point in my life, expressed a desire to be immersed in this odor while I sleep. Copernicus, on the other hand, wants nothing more than to rub and purr into the odor of dust, dander, straw, and chafe. She rubs her happy little self into the sheets with a grin of staisfaction on her face. (Yes, my cat can grin, dammit. She is that special).
The other concern that comes with this bed (Circa 1901, having spent the last six months in a barn) is that it may or may not have brought a mouse into the new digs. Every night, my Coperni-kitty and I lay our pretty little heads down to sleep, and Copernicus gets distracted by something that is outside of my hearing range. She makes a little hunting kitty sound, gets up, and proceeds to dig until she can wedge her way into the box spring. (Ever seen a box spring that is circa 1901? It's somewhat different that the luxurious creations of the Sealy Matress company, let me tell you.) Once she has wedged herself in there, the chase begins. She goes up one end and down the other, she runs in circles and shakes the entire bed. It could easily be a giant dustbunny, or a fluffball, or a feather that has left the mattress (I'm pretty sure that the matress is stuffed with feathers rather than actual mattress stuffing materials....) However, having had the experiences with rodents that I've had in my lifetime, it would not surpise me in the least to find that my bed has brought with it a friend.
So, every night, without feeling in my left arm, I am lulled to sleep by the sound of Copernicus chasing what sounds like a mouse beneath the 1901 box spring of my bed, surrounded by the musty smell of straw and chafe.
It's good to be home.
Toonses
posted by Amanda at 11:11
1 Comments:
The matress is not stuffed with feathers. And the likely hood of a mouse being transported is high. :) And if you would like a newer model frame for your bed, I have a cast iron frame that's pretty nice.
;)
Big Man
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