Qatteri Cat’s Babies
Last night, we had just gotten to sleep, when we could hear the Qatteri Cat crying. We know that cry. It’s his “rounding up the babies” cry. He got a new baby yesterday, a small white bear, and now he is responsible for four babies. This is what we found on our bed this morning:
He has had a very busy week, helping me with my projects, and keeping track of all the goings-ons in the neighborhood.
Totally Weird Dream
I was looking out the (window?) of my building on the ice flow (it’s a dream, it doesn’t have to make sense) and I saw huge snakes roiling in the freezing water. I stepped outside to look, and could see it was hundreds of large squid/octopus in a boiling fury of activity. I heard a yowl of terror, and saw a gold cat actually on top of one, screeching, and I knew at the same time he was a goner and I couldn’t save him. I also knew I probably was in the wrong place, that I needed to be back inside, so I slowly turned back toward the door. I felt something cold on my hand. I turned back to see what it was, and it was a polar bear; the cold was his nose. All I could think was “unless I get a miracle, I am s**t-out-of-luck” and then I told myself to “breathe.” That’s always my cue to wake up. The dream was over.
Some of it makes sense. There was a report of huge long squids recently in the news, bigger than anyone dreamed existed. I have a gold cat, and I love gold cats. And I am terrified of bear. I grew up in Alaska, and was taught early on to watch out for bear. You can’t outrun a bear. And a bear will eat you just because he’s hungry. He won’t necessarily kill you first. It’s not a good way to go. There are many people in Alaska with ugly claw marks, they are a badge of honor.
They are the lucky ones. They survived.
Liberation Tower at Night and Qatteri Cat
We love going to Souk Mubarakia. Took this recently on a cool, clear night from the souks
The Qatteri Cat has not lost interest in the tree, but no longer seems interested in pulling it over. The blanket is Masai, from Tanzania. Great Christmas colors!
Qatteri Cat in the Dog House
Last night, Qatteri Cat had what we call the cat-crazies. I think he misses my husband, who chases him around, throws his ball, tosses him on his back and rubs his tummy. We hang out together, but I’m not so much FUN as Adventure Man.
So last night, just minutes after I had turned out my light, I heard a great !!!CRASH!!! I knew what it was, as I could hear crunchings, tinglings and things falling even as I “rushed to the scene” (and a tip of the hat to the Kuwait Times who use that phrase endlessly).
Here is what it looked like before:
It was late at night. I couldn’t deal with it. I found a large sheet and covered the mess and went back to bed. Qatteri Cat was too embarrassed, he hid until he thought I was asleep, and then came in – he was cold – to sleep snuggled up next to me.
This morning, I faced this:
The cross at the top of the tree is broken, but I think me and Mr. Elmer can fix it:
Of course, any of you who have cats and understand their little pea-sized brains, will know that this morning the Qatteri Cat is totally mystified as to how this carnage happened.
That’s him, skulking back behind the newly upraised tree, still a little embarrassed and hoping I don’t remember he did it.
Qatteri Cat
We were flying back to Qatar after visiting our son. It was December, and we would not see him at Christmas; he was in his first real-life grown-up job and couldn’t get the time off for the long trip to Qatar and back. We were desolate.
I turned to my husband and said “I need a cat.” I expected a fight. “You work all the time, and I need a cat to keep me company.”
He said “I need a cat, too.” His eyes were kind of teary.
When we came to Qatar, we came with a 14 year old diabetic cat. When I arrived at the airport, without the right papers, the customs guy told me he would have to hold her overnight while I got the right papers from the Department of Agriculture. I started digging out all the hypodermic needles, and her insulin, and telling him she needed her shot at exactly seven in the morning and seven at night and he looked at me in shock and said “take her! take her!” and I scampered out of there as fast as I could, before he could change his mind.
When she died, the Gulf War was starting. In the middle of an important meeting, my husband came home because I kept thinking maybe she wasn’t really dead. It was heartbreaking. She was like a member of our family. My husband said “No more cats; I can’t go through this again.”
So it was only 9 months later when he agreed we could get another cat.
I went straight to the vet, who said he had just the cat for me. He was the longest, skinniest cat I had ever seen, with a great big fluffy tail like a fox. I adored him.
When he got home, he wouldn’t have anything to do with me. Every time I came near him, he cringed, and ran and hid. But the minute my husband walked in the door – it was love at first sight. Later on, we met his original owners, and one of the women said “is he still such a naughty cat?” and we said NO! that he was a good cat! The truth was that when he got scared, he would forget and use his claws and teeth. I still have the scars to prove it. It took a long time to teach him to trust again, but now, he is the sweetest and most loving cat you could meet. It just took time.
It took time for him to trust me. Now, he hangs out with me all day, and he loves to curl up with me. I don’t kid myself that this is love – he just loves my warm body and he loves that I feed him.
True love is when my husband comes home. Qatteri Cat can hear him coming long before he opens the door. He will leap from wherever he is sleeping and run for the door, and sit there waiting like a dog until my husband comes in the door. His body quivers with anticipation. He leaps for joy, and runs like a crazy cat around the house, scraping all the carpets into piles as he tries to get a grip on the marble tile floors.
When my husband showers or bathes, the Qatteri cat is there. When he works at his computer, the Qatteri cat is on his desk, or at his feet. He is content just to look at my husband with utter adoration.
And then, in the morning, when my husband leaves, the Qatteri cat cries. His cries would break your heart. He sits by the door and asks why my husband has abandoned him, once again. And then he goes and gets his babies, one by one, and puts them by the door. Who knows what this cat is thinking?
Recent Comments
ExpatAlien on What Country am I Living … intlxpatr on Yellowstone: Old Faithful to C… Michelle on Yellowstone: Old Faithful to C… Cathy on No Grown-Ups in Charge intlxpatr on Waiting for Snow Wikipedia Donate Button
Amazina
Early Voting in Florida
Here There and Everywhere 