Moose the Multiloquent / Moose el Multilocuente

La versión español está después de la versión inglés.

YESTERDAY WAS ALL about Dudo. So it’s only fair that today be all about Moose. While Dudo is pretty much a narcissist (a sweet narcissist), Moose is all about the team. Unless he’s asleep, Moose needs to know where we are before he’ll settle. If he hears activity, he gets up (from a catnap or a sound sleep) and searches it out. If he’s hungry (as is often the case) he herds one of us (usually me and never Dudo) into the kitchen to kneel on the floor and pet him while he eats. If San Geraldo and I are at opposite ends of the apartment, Moose will often position himself midway and “talk” incessantly — expecting responses from us both. When he’s ready for a nap, he harasses San Geraldo until he joins him. When we wake up in the morning he chatters away, running alongside in excitement. If one of us is up and the other is not, he whines until “the other” gets up, too. I’ve tried to catch his chatter on video, but he shuts up every time. When he’s not talking, following or leading us around the house, or stalking birds with his brother, he can usually be found on his back with his legs in the air. And he didn’t learn that from me!

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AYER FUE TODO sobre Dudo. Así que es justo que hoy sea todo sobre Moose. Aunque Dudo es un narcisista (un narcisista dulce), Moose es un jugador de equipo. A menos que esté dormido, Moose necesita saber dónde estamos antes de que se resuelva. Si oye una actividad, se levanta (de una siesta o de un sueño profundo) y la busca. Si tiene hambre (como suele ser el caso) lleva a uno de nosotros (generalmente yo y nunca a Dudo) a la cocina para arrodillarse en el suelo y acariciarlo mientras come. Si San Geraldo y yo estamos en los extremos opuestos del apartamento, Moose a menudo se colocará en la mitad del camino y “hablará” incesantemente, y esperará las respuestas de ambos. Cuando está listo para una siesta, acosa a San Geraldo hasta que se une a él. Cuando nos despertamos por la mañana él charla lejos, corriendo al lado con emoción. Si uno de nosotros está arriba y el otro no, gime hasta que “el otro” también se levanta. He intentado capturar su conversación en el video, pero él se calla cada vez. Cuando él no está hablando, siguiéndonos o guiándonos por la casa, o acechando pájaros con su hermano, generalmente se lo puede encontrar boca arriba con las piernas en el aire. ¡Y él no aprendió eso de mí!

Please, Sir, I Want Some More / Por Favor, Señor, Quiero Algo Más

La versión español está después de la versión inglés.

EARLY EACH MORNING, whenever the cats decide it’s time, San Geraldo gets out of bed, dishes up fresh dry food, and gives them a wet treat. Husky Moose gets less than 1/4 of the packet and slender Dudo gets the rest. Later, SG and I go out for coffee and when we return, around 1:00, they’re waiting at the door for me. I give them another packet of wet food. Same proportions. All this to keep Dudo’s weight up (because he can get too skinny). Most evenings, I give them a “stick treat.” Moose gets one or two little sections, Dudo gets the remaining 10 or more.

This morning, San Geraldo used the last packet of wet food. He headed back out after coffee to buy more. I figured, “No problem. I’ll just give them their stick treats early instead.” They were elated.

But then both cats stared at me, followed me around the house, and badgered me for their regularly scheduled treats. So, when San Geraldo returned, they got those, too.

And if they think they’re getting another round of stick treats this evening, they’ve got another think coming!

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A PRIMERA HORA de la mañana, cuando los gatos deciden que es hora, San Geraldo se levanta de la cama, sirve comida fresca y seca, y les da un aperetivo mojado. Fornido Moose recibe menos de 1/4 del paquete y el delgado Dudo recibe el resto. Más tarde, SG y yo salimos a tomar un café y cuando regresamos, alrededor de las 13:00, me están esperando en la puerta. Les doy otro paquete de aperetivo mojado. Mismas proporciones. Todo esto para mantener el peso de Dudo (que puede ser demasiado flaco). La mayoría de las noches, les doy una “barrita”. Moose recibe una o dos pequeñas secciones, Dudo recibe las 10 restantes, o más.

Esta mañana, San Geraldo usó el último paquete de aperetivo mojado. Él salió después del café para comprar más. Pensé, “No hay problema. Solo les daré sus barritas y daré el otro aperetivo mucho más tarde en lugar”. Estaban exaltados.

Pero luego los dos gatos me miraron, me siguieron por la casa, y me acosaron para sus aperetivos regularmente programadas. Entonces, cuando San Geraldo regresó, también recibieron esos.

Y si ellos tienen la idea que van a recibir otra ronda de aperetivos esta noche, ¡tienen otra cosa pendiente!

Sweet Thing

I read the news today (oh boy) and then wondered what I would blog about that had nothing to do with that. Before heading out for a brief walk after morning coffee, I sat down on the terrace in the warm sun. Our glass curtains have turned the terrace into a glorious sunroom in winter. Moose saw me from his terrace treehouse and came running over to give and get some love. He hadn’t even shaken the sleep out of his head. He put everything into perspective. Or maybe out of perspective — but he made me smile.


(Click the images to get as close a look as Moose and I got.)

“And I will never grow so old again…”

Dowager Duchess’s Dog

My Mother The Dowager Duchess was not an animal lover. Not by any stretch of the imagination. When she was a little girl, her mother got a cat to fend off any rat/mouse problem in their tenement apartment. My mother told me that one day, when she was around 9 years old, the cat jumped onto her lap and she sat and petted it for a while.

I said, “Wow. I can’t imagine you doing that.”

She said. “It was disgusting. I finally felt so sick that I pushed the thing off.”

My mother couldn’t understand how we allowed our California cats, Dobie and Maynard, to sit on the furniture. They weren’t allowed on tables or counters, but my mother found it just as bad that they were allowed on sofas and chairs.

Once, when my mother was visiting us in Santa Barbara, our long-haired, gentle, friendly cat, Dobie, walked by her chair. She reached down and stroked him absently before lifting her hand away in disgust.

I said, “How can you be like that? He feels like a fur coat! You love fur coats.”

“Well,” she said, “Fur coats don’t breathe!”

DD’s Dog
The Dowager Duchess did have her own “pet dog” for more than 25 years.

She had created him from yarn, felt, buttons, and cardboard. She gave him a red leather collar with a gold buckle. Even he had to sit on the floor.

So, while we were cleaning out the apartment, I allowed the old boy to sit wherever he wanted.

MY MOTHER LOVED THIS COAT SO MUCH SHE KEPT IT FOR 68 YEARS.
(BUT I NEVER ONCE SAW IT ON THE SOFA).