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A cocktail of cat's tales
Oct. 25th, 2010 12:10 pmRecently, my coworker Sharon and I have been looking for new housing, so that we can keep our horses at home. Boarding here is generally either unavailable or extremely expensive in the winter -- most people seem to send their horses to pasture about an hour south to not have to deal at all with horsekeeping in heavy snow -- but neither Sharon nor I were particularly happy with that. Here in horse country, we figured we wouldn't have much of a problem finding a horse property to rent, and in thinking that we were, of course, embracing some sort of optimism-related insanity.
The process has been... well, I don't really have a word for what it's been. I feel like I should see a psychotherapist to start recovering from the trauma. Finding anything in a small town is less about how thoroughly and repeatedly you scour the newspapers and more about who you know, how much they like you, and whether they'd rather see you happy or see you sleeping in the gutter. It just complicates things to be searching with another person, who will inevitably bring their own priorities, preferences and demands to the table.
I won't go into all of the ways in which this process has felt a bit like being repeatedly bludgeoned with a heavy object... I think it's sufficient to say that, after months of searching and undoubtedly the development of some hard-core ulcers, we've finally got a place to live. It's a deeply terrific, just barely on the attainable side of affordable, and has a terrific set-up for horses. There's a hay loft and a garage and a fireplace and just a ridiculous excess of awesome things (can anybody say "bathtub with freaking power jets"? I thought you could). Somewhat ludicrously, one of the things I'm looking forward to most is the barn cat who comes with the property. I don't know what his name was to begin with (it was Smokey or Sooty or something along those lines), but I call him Awesome. And he totally lives up to his name. I would go so far as to say that he is made of 100% pure awesome.
Though I own a dog -- more specifically, a dog who would like to eat cats -- I'm mostly an animal person in general, so the idea of living with cats again is pretty exciting to me. (This is in spite of the fact that my last living-with-a-cat experience was pretty much like this.) Sharon will be bringing with her an indoor cat, in addition to Awesome the barn cat, so I'm sure I'll have my hands full just with preventing Trudeau from eating any of the other animals who will soon be his housemates, but I'm not letting my dog's dickishness dent my optimism.
In honor of the good news, I thought I'd do a little cats photo post today... a retrospective, if you will, on the felines who have deigned to tolerate my presence... these are barn cats and pet cats both. I love barn cats in particular, though, because they tend to be a bit rough around the edges, unpampered and self-possessed... and sometimes just possessed, period.
( Oh ye felines we have known... )
I like to think that all people are cat people at heart. (And if they aren't, then the cats somehow know and will attach themselves to those people purely out of spite. So really, it pays to be a cat person.) Care to share a few photos of yours? I promise to ooh and aah over them. It's sort of a knee-jerk reaction anyway.
(And if like me you're enjoying a nice rainy day and would like a little animated cat noir, try the short animated film The Cat Piano, narrated by Nick Cave. Great animation, great filmmaking, and incredible artistry.)
The process has been... well, I don't really have a word for what it's been. I feel like I should see a psychotherapist to start recovering from the trauma. Finding anything in a small town is less about how thoroughly and repeatedly you scour the newspapers and more about who you know, how much they like you, and whether they'd rather see you happy or see you sleeping in the gutter. It just complicates things to be searching with another person, who will inevitably bring their own priorities, preferences and demands to the table.
I won't go into all of the ways in which this process has felt a bit like being repeatedly bludgeoned with a heavy object... I think it's sufficient to say that, after months of searching and undoubtedly the development of some hard-core ulcers, we've finally got a place to live. It's a deeply terrific, just barely on the attainable side of affordable, and has a terrific set-up for horses. There's a hay loft and a garage and a fireplace and just a ridiculous excess of awesome things (can anybody say "bathtub with freaking power jets"? I thought you could). Somewhat ludicrously, one of the things I'm looking forward to most is the barn cat who comes with the property. I don't know what his name was to begin with (it was Smokey or Sooty or something along those lines), but I call him Awesome. And he totally lives up to his name. I would go so far as to say that he is made of 100% pure awesome.
Though I own a dog -- more specifically, a dog who would like to eat cats -- I'm mostly an animal person in general, so the idea of living with cats again is pretty exciting to me. (This is in spite of the fact that my last living-with-a-cat experience was pretty much like this.) Sharon will be bringing with her an indoor cat, in addition to Awesome the barn cat, so I'm sure I'll have my hands full just with preventing Trudeau from eating any of the other animals who will soon be his housemates, but I'm not letting my dog's dickishness dent my optimism.
In honor of the good news, I thought I'd do a little cats photo post today... a retrospective, if you will, on the felines who have deigned to tolerate my presence... these are barn cats and pet cats both. I love barn cats in particular, though, because they tend to be a bit rough around the edges, unpampered and self-possessed... and sometimes just possessed, period.
( Oh ye felines we have known... )
I like to think that all people are cat people at heart. (And if they aren't, then the cats somehow know and will attach themselves to those people purely out of spite. So really, it pays to be a cat person.) Care to share a few photos of yours? I promise to ooh and aah over them. It's sort of a knee-jerk reaction anyway.
(And if like me you're enjoying a nice rainy day and would like a little animated cat noir, try the short animated film The Cat Piano, narrated by Nick Cave. Great animation, great filmmaking, and incredible artistry.)