I have been in bed with the flu for over a week. I hadn't been that sick in a while and I don't like it! We had to go to town yesterday, as we were right out of groceries, and there were several points where I thought I was gonna pass out. At the end I sat in the truck while Tony loaded the groceries. I hadn't felt that way for so long I had forgotten what it was like. But I got up feeling fine this morning so I think I've finally kicked the flu. I was feeling well enough to make a decent breakfast, start stew for dinner and begin cleaning up the kitchen. I started a load of laundry. The day was progressing well.
That is until the philosophies of cat and hairless monkey collided. As is often the case hairless monkey won but cat got in a few good punches before going down in defeat. To look at him here you'd think he was a quiet, well-mannered and highly considerate animal. Don't let his benign expression fool you. Between those cute little ears lie the nubs of horns.
I'll admit these snowy, cold days are a trial to the Red Chief. His walks are unsatisfactory, as it is wet and too cold to stay out very long. And worse, because I've been ill, this last week Tony has been taking the poor thing for his walks. (I say "poor" because his self-pity is evident.) Don't misunderstand, the walks are just as good, but Red Chief obviously feels as if proper tribute has not been paid if his mama doesn't take him out personally. (Gratitude is apparently not part of the cat's emotional vocabulary.)
As is customary, he wanted to go out the instant a head was lifted from a pillow this morning. Even before. As soon as light begins to creep around the blinds he begins to campaign for walkies. He usually goes out in his "room" two or three times before walk time. In summer he can go in and out through the cat flap, but in winter we have to take him outside and go out and get him again. This works. He runs to the door of his room and waits while you unlatch it, he jumps right in, and when he's ready to comes back inside in he yells, "Come get me!"
This morning he'd been out in his room twice already, but didn't stay long either time cause it's cold and windy. He asked to go out yet again, so I opened the door, let him out and followed. However, instead of going to his room he took off down the path toward the back. I went after him and he climbed a tree. As I got there he jumped down, and as I went to pick him up he shot off like his tail was on fire toward the front and stopped near our truck.
He sat there until I got to him and then he took off again. But I managed to grab him. He's quite a chunk to carry, especially when he's squirming and kicking, trying to find flesh with extended claws. The path is slippery and I had my crocs on so I skidded all over but I managed to shift him into one arm, open the door with my free hand and toss him inside.
I grabbed the handle and started in, he whirled around, pounced me with all his weight and dashed outside again. (He was having a ball, me less so.) He hit me with such force that he knocked me down. Thankfully I was leaning forward and I fell in the door, rather than down the stairs backwards. On the way to the floor I banged my shoulder on the door frame, twisted my back, bunged up my right knee and gave my neck a real jolt. To make it worse I had to get up, saying fine and fiery words which should pass no lady's lips, go outside and haul him back in again. By the time I caught him I was ready to skin him and make a furry orange hat of him.
Tony took him for a walk a few minutes later but it's cold and he (cat) wanted to come back in after five minutes. He has been bouncing off the walls since. I was trying to do dishes and he's getting into the dishwater, crawling all over the counter and trying to push dishes off on the floor. I gather from all this that he is feeling *very* well, which makes me happy, but I wish there was something constructive he could do with all that energy. Massaging my screaming back would be acceptable. But he's not interested in that sort of activity. Hairless monkey is servant of cat, not the other way around.
I have retired to my bed with a heating pad, two pain pills and a muscle relaxant. He is lying on my feet with a very pleased look on his face. As usual monkey wins but cat triumphs.