Zelda Lee
Zelda doesn't like to leave the kitchen, at least while I'm paying attention. I suspect that she wanders the house in the night, while I'm sleeping. I've found her sleeping in the living room; as soon as I walk in and see her, she runs to the kitchen. She was adopted, and she's had quite a few homes, so I'm not sure how old she is, exactly, but I just thought that she was getting older, more sedentary.
When it's warm, she lays in the kitchen window, soaking up sunshine. When it's cold, she likes to be on the heat vent. Or she'll be under the kitchen table, on one of the chairs, wrapped up in the tablecloth. When I try to coax her out of the kitchen, or when I grab her and bring her into the living room or the family room with me, she politely puts up with me for about a minute, and then she runs back to the kitchen. She likes the kitchen. We call her the kitchen cat.
I noticed that she was a bit more active at my mom's house in the summer, but I figured that she was just excited to be in a new place, with a giant dog, and different beds to sleep in, different people to awaken with her LOUD, LOUD PURRING. And she was still very much herself, lazing around unless there was cat food involved.
Well, the cats and I just got back from 5 days at my mom's, and Zelda was a fucking maniac the whole time! She tried to get into the garbage repeatedly. She tried to dart into the refrigerator and get at the turkey carcass whenever anyone opened the door. She jumped up ON the fridge (pretty spry for an older cat). She got yelled at left and right, and she did not care a whit.
On the other hand, she visited us in the living room, which she didn't really do before. She wanted to cuddle, which she doesn't ever want to do. She slept with my mom every night, when she wasn't trying to get into the garbage. She was a completely different cat.
But, we're back in Buffalo, and she's back in the kitchen. Resting up for Christmas, I guess.
When it's warm, she lays in the kitchen window, soaking up sunshine. When it's cold, she likes to be on the heat vent. Or she'll be under the kitchen table, on one of the chairs, wrapped up in the tablecloth. When I try to coax her out of the kitchen, or when I grab her and bring her into the living room or the family room with me, she politely puts up with me for about a minute, and then she runs back to the kitchen. She likes the kitchen. We call her the kitchen cat.
I noticed that she was a bit more active at my mom's house in the summer, but I figured that she was just excited to be in a new place, with a giant dog, and different beds to sleep in, different people to awaken with her LOUD, LOUD PURRING. And she was still very much herself, lazing around unless there was cat food involved.
Well, the cats and I just got back from 5 days at my mom's, and Zelda was a fucking maniac the whole time! She tried to get into the garbage repeatedly. She tried to dart into the refrigerator and get at the turkey carcass whenever anyone opened the door. She jumped up ON the fridge (pretty spry for an older cat). She got yelled at left and right, and she did not care a whit.
On the other hand, she visited us in the living room, which she didn't really do before. She wanted to cuddle, which she doesn't ever want to do. She slept with my mom every night, when she wasn't trying to get into the garbage. She was a completely different cat.
But, we're back in Buffalo, and she's back in the kitchen. Resting up for Christmas, I guess.
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| Mom's bed, in the process of being made, with a Zelda accent pillow |
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