Tag Archives: stalking

The Jeff Channel: Now with Smell-O-Vision!

I volunteered to work the Sunday shift at work today and all I can say is this: are you planning to go in the southern gate of Yellowstone? Because it doesn’t open until May 13. Would you like to talk about alternate routes?

I feel that right away I should tell you that, to the best of my knowledge, Jeff is not particularly stinky or potently scented in any way. That is NOT what I meant by the title of today’s post. What Jeff is, though, is a guy who likes to be outside. And his out is conveniently located just outside the window by our couch.

This weekend featured the first nice weather we’ve had since the first time I posted about Smell-0-vision about forty two hundred years ago. At last, we were able to open windows. And four happier mammals would have been harder to find. Zensai, basking under his 110 degree heat lamp, was indifferent.

For a long while, Obi channel surfed. Oliver spent as much of yesterday as he could laying on my chest and telling how much he missed me while I was gone and could I please never ever ever get off the couch again? But when I was standing, he would check out some OutTV.

At one point Oli, Obi, The Boy and I were all standing perfectly still, watching a squirrel on the front porch. She got her peanut from the feeder. She sat on the rail to eat it. She stopped. Looked around. And, with this eery feeling that eight eyes were upon her, she decided she’d rather eat her nut in the tree on the other side of the yard.

This morning I opened the window upstairs in the reading nook. This particular OutTV comes with an all-day sunbeam and a fleece blanket. I didn’t see Oliver again until I went upstairs at 8 o’clock to call my mother. I found one happy grey kitten stretched on the floor, suffering from over happy.

Obi watched The Jeff Channel all day. Jeff was weeding. And watering. Have I mentioned that Jeff, with whom – luckily – we were already friends, says he is getting really good at doing things with feline supervision? I’m trying to decide if having a cat stare at your backside while you’re weeding is better than having him stare in your window while you do dishes.

It’s late now, and dark. So Kitten Thunder is sharing the blanket upstairs where smell-o-vision has programming of a breeze through the trees and the gentle coo of some nearby doves. It’s been a hard day.

"This blanket has cute kittens all over it. Maybe The Girl needs an intervention."

Cling On, Cats. Not to be confused with Klingon Cats.

I’m pretty sure this is one of only a few funny parts of HOP:
     Easter Bunny: The EGG of DESTINY can only be wielded by a bunny.
     Evil Chick: Look, I’m wielding it. I’m wielding it AGAIN!

The Boy wielded the magic toy making stick this evening and produced two flat leopard skin mousies, the teddy bear mouse, a milk ring, and $3 toy designed to act like a milk rink, a squeaky ball…and enough cat hair to knit ourselves a kitten. Obi was very excited. Then he was overstimulated. He ended up piling them all together so he could just lay on them.

Then The Boy threw them all over the living room. Obi went back to playing with the tiny fuzzy that has been out all week. It’s about the size of a dime but don’t underestimate it. That fuzzy is wily. It requires vertical pounces of at least a foot and a half (while fluttering your feet like a ballerina, for some reason).

"Any minute, a tuna will come by and I will pounce. What does a tuna look like, anyway?"

The world of Facebook confirms that cats from everywhere have been especially clingy this week. Kitten Thunder was no exception. When I sat, someone sat with me. On me. By my head on the back of the couch. With their wet nose in my ear. Or up against my nose for some EYE CONTACT.

When I went down to my work bench there was Thunder. But small scale Thunder that never went where they couldn’t see me. For a while, they were gone. Then I glanced into the spare room and saw the reflection of eyes watching from the bed. At one point Oliver came walking purposefully to where I sat in the banana chair, climbed into my lap and about broke my nose with the hug-headbutt he delivered. The Boy came down shortly after to make sure I’d been found – Oli had been upstairs wailing because I was lost.

For the past few nights, shortly after lights out, Oliver has started the “where did everyone go? Why am I alone?” cry on the main floor. I usually break down and call him. And remind him we’re where we are EVERY night. The ecstatic purr I get when he finds me just adds to how ridiculous this is.

Last night there was no yowling. Because Obi and Oli followed me upstairs to read.

And now? I left two cats on the love seat in the living room when I came in to blog. Obi is in the condo. He’s looking the other way, but I can feel him watching me with his flipped around ears. And Oli has moved four feet so he can see me by putting his head on the armrest of the couch.

I guess I should be grateful for the attention. I’ll miss it some day when Kitten Thunder doesn’t need their mama.

**A side note: Did you know the world’s largest bar made of solid jade is in Medicine Bow, Wyoming? SO smelling a road trip this weekend!

**A second side note: Since I said the word “Klingon” in my title I really wanted to say “Obi hates zebra cows” in that language. Why? Well, because it would be funny. And because Obi kept throwing a little plastic cow – don’t ask ME why he has stripes – off The Boy’s workbench this weekend. No translator will tell me how to say “Obi hates zebra cows.” So instead, I give you what he said to me when I paused in my metal working to tell him to get off The Boy’s bench: “mupwI’ yI’uchtaH!”

Spell check? Thinks I misspelled that.