I could give an extremely short dissertation on a day in the life of two gray felines, Gibbs and Ziva. Named after characters in a favorite TV show (NCIS), one may say their life consists of this:
Eat, sleep, play, and poop!
Eat, sleep, play, and poop!
Eat, sleep, play, and poop!
Pet me, pet me!
This is similar to the chorus of a song, requiring verses to give the story depth. Gibbs starts off the day with a 4:00 a.m. song of the hungry.
I’m awake, human,
and you should be too
The sun is almost up,
and that means it’s time for food.
Why do you cover your head,
as I paw at your face?
We need food in the empty bowls,
to stay in our good grace.
Meanwhile, Ziva hangs back, watching her housemate’s antics, not saying a word. She’s a funny little thing – at one moment cute and cuddly with a motor that goes on forever; and then the royal diva, who disdains most belly rubs (blasphemy) and bleats like a mad goat for her kibble.
I have to separate these two at feeding time as Ziva is a kibble thief, running from her dish to that of her housemate to snare the lion’s share of the food. Unfortunately, Gibbs does not stand up for himself, so they have to be separated in order to have their proper share of nourishment. The boy does get even, however, as Ziva also disdains people food. My roommate, Natasha, is like the grandma who comes over to spoil the grandchildren. Gibbs receives the benefit of her grass-fed beef and organic chicken. And then he takes a nap. The gray one sings the song of the sleepy.
It’s time to sleep, human,
so leave us well alone.
No matter the sun is up,
we will sleep and snore and moan.
We don’t need to cover our heads,
with a paw or a white sheet
We’re cats, we sleep the sleep of the dead,
unless you shake the bag of treats.
I would guess that Gibbs sleeps about 16 hours a day, while Ziva is the catnap queen. It’s one of the reasons she’s a little portly…not enough exercise, choosing to sleep her life away. I suppose this is the life of a cat, the whiskered being that was considered a god by the ancient Egyptians. These two choose various spots to check their kitty eyelids for holes. Ziva curls up in the smaller cat tree or the couch, or squirrels between the quilt and blanket on the bed. Gibbs sleeps in either cat tree, but has been hanging out in a
cat trap box top of late.
He curls up in it at night while his human watches TV. Much like the child who has an expensive toy or cardboard box to play with, Gibbs chooses the cardboard. Meanwhile, I can hear Ziva’s snores echoing down the hallway from the bedroom.
Getting back to the chorus of the feline song, Gibbs loves to play when the time is right and he’s not hunting birds from the other side of the glass window. His small catnip mouse is good for a few chases across the living room floor, while anything crinkly drives him mad. Gibbs is obsessed with the crinkle. He wants to chew it until it’s dead. This is why his human has to keep any type of crinkly bag or plastic not meant for cats out of his reach. Gibbs has The Crinkle Pica.
Both Gibbs and Ziva have a large metal container (toy box) filled with a wide assortment of objects to keep them occupied during the day when I’m at work. Unfortunately, they are picky about what they play with and most of the objects stay in the container. Once in a while, I’ll drag a couple of sponge balls out and throw them down the hall for Gibbs…who may or may not chase them.
Ziva doesn’t play much. On occasion, she’ll bat at something that dangles. Most of the time, she sings the song of royal pain.
What do you want, human?
Why don’t you leave me alone?
No matter that my butt is wide,
and that I grunt and groan.
I don’t need to play with you,
bat a ball or a catnip mouse.
I’m a lazy girl, I want to sleep,
and be Diva, Queen of the house.
That she is. Ziva is queen in her little kitty mind and has that attitude tenfold. The apartment is her kingdom, the cat tree is her stately bed and the DSW paper bag is her throne. The only items missing are a tiara and crystal bowl for the kibble.
On the other hand, Gibbs is the court jester. He seems to make everyone laugh and endears himself to all visitors. Gibbs is uber social. This is a feline that, according my friend Natasha, “acts more like a dog than a cat.” He sits up for his treats, nuzzles faces for attention, allows me to hold him like a baby and is very close (maybe) to learning the art of retrieval.
He’s a handsome boy, isn’t he? Unfortunately, Mr. Stinky is not so handsome when it comes to covering his poop. You thought I forgot about that part of the chorus, didn’t you? Oh no, this deserves special recognition of the cat that I swear suffers from depth perception or an aversion to sensibility.
What’s the problem, human?
Do you not like the manly smell?
It landed inside the litterbox,
(this time), which I find pretty swell.
You don’t need to plug your nose
as I scrape to the left and to the right.
Why would you want my paw to touch poop,
whether it be morning, noon or night?
Gibbs (the mountain lion) doesn’t understand that a little covering goes a long way in preventing over-use of air fresheners.
Singing about cat poop calls for an end to the Gibbs and Ziva feline song and a day in the life. It’s getting messy in the kingdom and this post is turning a little stinky. Nevertheless, we can’t leave without offering a bridge, which normally enters into the middle of a song and provides some cohesion. For the purpose of closure, though, it’s being added here.
From the mouths of two gray noses…
No matter what you do, no matter what our kitty lips say,
We are your kids, you are mom, and we wouldn’t want it any other way.
About the Author: I am Mary J, but you can also call me M-J or BikerChick. I have been blogging as Mary J Melange since March of 2013 and have enjoyed every minute of writing, finding new blogs to follow and making friends. MJM began simply as a medium to find a home for the swirling thoughts in my head, but quickly turned into more than that. I am part of a “community” which is supportive and a lot of fun. I hit on various topics on MJM – family, friends, amateur photography, bicycling, and much more. One of the biggest topics, however, centers on my two cats, Gibbs and Ziva, rescued from a shelter in 2010. They are my children, my little furballs. I’ve been a crazy cat lady for over 35 years and these two have a very special place in my fifty-something heart now and forever. Feel free to come on over to Mary J Melange and check out my space. If you click on the menu item “The Furry Kids,” you’ll get Gibbs and Ziva 24/7. Thanks for reading the guest post on Katzenworld and visiting MJM!
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