This is the other thing I’ve done.
Mo has this perch he adores. The EGE got it on sale from The Rat Bastards at Wal-Mart, and we figured it wouldn’t last very long but would maybe provide a few hours of exercise for Moe. ‘Cause, see, exercise is what Moe needs most in the world, never mind that he would argue it’s tuna treats and ham baby food. He would be oh, so wrong. My boy is chubby.
Hell, my boy is Fat. His vet, whom we now avoid like the plague, says he’s “morbidly obese.” This is a lie, so we try not to think about it. But we do play at every opportunity! Yes! Well, one of us does. The other tends to lounge around and bat at things in a leisurely manner, refusing to strain or tire himself with too much unnecessary physical exertion.
That’s not the point, however. The point is that he loves this perch and spends many of his leisure hours ensconced on it. Sadly, it’s cheap. And sadly, he ensconces himself on it by throwing all 20 pounds onto the top tier. Combine that with his hind claws, the ones we don’t trim, and finally the nylon ripped,
and yesterday he was trying to balance himself on the little plastic rods. Think of an elephant on a jungle gym.
No, don’t. That was rude. I’m sorry. Do NOT think of an elephant on a jungle gym!
So I went out and dug around in the FE this morning, trying to find some fabric both sturdy and easy to stitch—I’d thought I could do it by machine, but it seems that, at some point, I used Super Glue on those connections at the top. Silly me.
This fabric
was some my mother made into a dress for me when I was, I think, a senior in high school. Maybe a junior. It was a form-fitting mini dress, right at the time everyone else was wearing long, flared, newly-fashionable midi-skirts. So you can imagine the ridicule—I think they called me “hooker,” taking great offense at my tiny little dresses and refusal to embrace those hideously unflattering skirts.
Anyway, anyway, anyway: this quilted fabric was as close to perfect as I was going to find: it had red and blue and yellow, just like the perch (who thinks of these combinations, anyway? Do they have someone they go to and say, “Hey, Floyd, what are three colors that, put together, are guaranteed to give the consumer product enticement message of ‘Dirt Cheap & Tacky’?”)
Many yards of fuchsia embroidery floss later (it’s kind of laced in place, which I hope will prove to be really sturdy), it’s done.
Lennie approves, but Moe says it’s not technically time for him to have to move yet, so he’ll wait until later to check it out.
And don’t suggest to me that we should try a diet. We try a diet every single day: their food is not left down for them during the day. And someone—someone who works at home and is here with them all day long—has to listen to their complaints and pleas and sorrowful misery about Impending Starvation. It’s pathetic. Truly.
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6 comments:
I read somewhere once that cats can see red and yellow. I buy my cats toys in those colors as often as possible. They seem to like those the best...but they could be humoring me.
You are hysterical!!! I also have a "big-boned" cat who weighs in at 23 lbs, who thinks he is a dainty "little" cat that can go anywhere. He thinks he can fit into a cereal box, when in reality it's just his head in it and he lays there pretending that we can't see him at all! Gotta love 'em!
Wow. That perch is awesome. The fabric fuses 70s motifs with something exotic and wonderful. Wish I could remember. Persian rugs? Kente cloth? Crap. All that LSD I didn't do turned my brain into mush.
I have this theory that life never went anywhere for the people who were jerks back in the day. Too intent on being part of the herd to savor life and have some adventures.
Speaking of which, I'm 45 now. Isn't it high time I tried a few blue streaks in my hair?
warty mammal, beware: 45 was when my life changed. i was perimenopausal and didn't yet know it. i was itchy, irritable, unsatisfied. then i woke up one day and realized i could do anything i wanted: cut my hair, dyed it, got the first tattoo. it was like a whole new life opened up before me, the one that had been buried in there just waiting. it's been fabulous! go for the blue streak!
I love the funky fabric on the perch, well done. We have two males who don't really care for each other but when we ran out of the dry cat food a couple weeks ago and hadn't gotten to the grocery store yet they would cry in harmony. You would have thought that they hadn't eaten for days. They would lay and look at you as if the mere effort was just too much in their weakened state. When we brought in the food they both jumped up on the same barstool and begged in earnest. Like Shayla says Gotta love 'em! Diane
Um... interesting fabric. And having read the comments, at 47 all I can say is go for the streaks Warty Mammal. It'll make you feel better about all the rest. My aunt got blue streaks a few years ago. She was 78.
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