Wednesday, August 31, 2011
The Fat Tuxedo Kissi-Cat
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Chewing the Fat of a Cat
The thankfulness upon the fact that I have no readers make the feel of guilt of not writing anything in a year a little lesser. Should I tell what I have been doing all this time or do they know that the people inactive in the Internet are active in the real life? That I have dozens of unfinished stuff that I won't publish here? Why do people put pictures of unfinished stuff on the Web anyway? To feel to have accomplished at least something and but irritate readers by publishing a picture of circular needles, a ball of yarn or two, and something knitted by the name 'socks'? If had readers I would tell them to tell the other bloggers to not to do that. At least those pictures should be tagged with 'wip'.
And I? I traveled 400 kilometers to have a place to stay inside of, to hear a fat cat snoring upside down while listening to Alice Cooper and have a continuously breaking Internet connection. What did I have before?
Yes, my cat listens to Alice Cooper. 'Poison' is her favorite. And yes, she did snore lying on her back on my sofa in the old place too. I promised myself not to bore people with the endless tales of my big fat snoring tuxedo cat. That was before I understood that if I ever get something to write about that will be about the cat, because I don't bother to take bad photos in bad light of crappy knitting. And before I understood that no one is reading this. There's something in the Finnish weather! Whenever I have time to document my works the light goes hiding somewhere. If ever the good light would make my work look better.
But the cat! Oh yes, the cat is a fat monochromatic beast in yellow light, gray light, darkness, shadow, forever. She's easy to describe. Only two non-colors on her round, hairy body. And if you think cats are slender this one looks like Jabba the Hut in a smocking. She has a short tail that makes a bump before reaching upwards as if the tail was not made of cat bones but wire and hairy play-doh. She has a lot of flab under the belly and a round face that looks even rounder because she has a black cat mask on her white face and a double chin. She looks a bit like Garfield. The eyes are perfectly round and her facial expressions are perfected to beg more food with those perfectly round eyes that get a sad, teary glow when I show her the pet food bowl filled with dry food. And she goes meow-eh in a sad tone and looks at me with even sadder and rounder eyes telling me that her overfed body does not cope with dry feed but needs something in gravy or jelly or sauce. And I tell her to either eat it or leave it. Her sad meowing and me pointing at the bowl continues a while until she either eats some or goes to lie down. When I had two cats, which is only a month ago, I had to leave food for the old and skinny cat by the consequence that the fat one stole her food.
The fatty kitty even stole ham from a package by opening the lid when my flat mate had left some night snack materials next to her while sleeping on the floor in our cooler living room during the summer heat period. And the next morning her big, sad, round eyes told us that she was totally forced to it because the cat food was either finished or of poorer quality. And she was so sure no one would ever feed her again. She had been fed every morning before and after work for thirteen years. How could she not know that we had not abandoned her now? Meow-eh.
And I? I traveled 400 kilometers to have a place to stay inside of, to hear a fat cat snoring upside down while listening to Alice Cooper and have a continuously breaking Internet connection. What did I have before?
Yes, my cat listens to Alice Cooper. 'Poison' is her favorite. And yes, she did snore lying on her back on my sofa in the old place too. I promised myself not to bore people with the endless tales of my big fat snoring tuxedo cat. That was before I understood that if I ever get something to write about that will be about the cat, because I don't bother to take bad photos in bad light of crappy knitting. And before I understood that no one is reading this. There's something in the Finnish weather! Whenever I have time to document my works the light goes hiding somewhere. If ever the good light would make my work look better.
But the cat! Oh yes, the cat is a fat monochromatic beast in yellow light, gray light, darkness, shadow, forever. She's easy to describe. Only two non-colors on her round, hairy body. And if you think cats are slender this one looks like Jabba the Hut in a smocking. She has a short tail that makes a bump before reaching upwards as if the tail was not made of cat bones but wire and hairy play-doh. She has a lot of flab under the belly and a round face that looks even rounder because she has a black cat mask on her white face and a double chin. She looks a bit like Garfield. The eyes are perfectly round and her facial expressions are perfected to beg more food with those perfectly round eyes that get a sad, teary glow when I show her the pet food bowl filled with dry food. And she goes meow-eh in a sad tone and looks at me with even sadder and rounder eyes telling me that her overfed body does not cope with dry feed but needs something in gravy or jelly or sauce. And I tell her to either eat it or leave it. Her sad meowing and me pointing at the bowl continues a while until she either eats some or goes to lie down. When I had two cats, which is only a month ago, I had to leave food for the old and skinny cat by the consequence that the fat one stole her food.
The fatty kitty even stole ham from a package by opening the lid when my flat mate had left some night snack materials next to her while sleeping on the floor in our cooler living room during the summer heat period. And the next morning her big, sad, round eyes told us that she was totally forced to it because the cat food was either finished or of poorer quality. And she was so sure no one would ever feed her again. She had been fed every morning before and after work for thirteen years. How could she not know that we had not abandoned her now? Meow-eh.
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