There he is, my little orange puff pastry, fuming at the gills because I dunked him in the bathtub a few times to get off the outermost layer of engine grease that he acquired during The Adventure last week. He is such a funny guy: clearly, having a bath was not a ride up pleasure mountain for him, but instead of the claws-out fangs-bared no-mercy struggle I was bracing for, he just sat miserably in the inch or so of water I had prepared, and surrendered himself to the ordeal. Now and then he made a pathetic little mewling noise and licked my wrist as I scrubbed. It was a good technique, I'll give him that! I got him in and out as fast as I could because he just seemed so gosh-darned
sad. Then he sat on the floor exactly as pictured above and looked dejectedly up at me while I fussed and took pictures. Little buddy! Thus ends the final chapter of his Great Escape. I have since taken him out on his leash, and he seems no different, except that the heat has dramatically reduced his bird-catching abilities. These abilities were quite scant to begin with, and generally involved a half-hearted lunge and an I'll-get-you-next-time glare, but lately he doesn't even bother to arrange himself into stalking mode. I guess it's just too darned hot. All he wants to do is lie in the shade under the stoop, within batting distance of a patch of weeds. Still, he complains loudly when I gather him up to go inside. I feel for the little poopster. These are hot days for a guy who has to wear a fur coat 24/7 and who is afraid of fans.
The truth is, I don't think Tycho would escape again, even if he had the opportunity. He hardly has enough energy to wake me up his usual three times a night.
This is what summer looks like for some cats:
Adventure! Hunting! Stealth! Exploration! Intrigue!
This is what summer looks like for T:
Too hot to roll over. He just opens his mouth and lets me drop kibbles in, and the odd gulp of ice water. And I oblige!
Every now and then someone or something reminds me that people actually DO faithfully check this blog, and such a reminder came my way today, so I'm feeling encouraged. Thanks!
Back in Montreal now after a brief Ontario run-around, and in a week I'm off again for more. This is fun for me, but bad news for T-bone, who stays alone in this hot apartment with only daily check-ins from my kind friends to keep him company. I feel pretty awful about that. I hope it's true that animals can't tell if you've been gone five minutes or five days, but I have a feeling that's a lie made up by people who want other people to stop worrying out loud about their pets while on vacation.
Wow! This post was all about Tycho (again)! Why stop now?
TYCHO vs. FLYKapow! Sometimes I call him the Terminator. Other times, like on garbage night when certain little sandy boxes are cleaned out, he is the Turdinator. I think he's proud of both names.
Anyone want to be a live-in sitter for Tycho in a couple of weeks while I'm off? Did I make a good sell?
I would like to conclude this brief post with a shout out out out to Jen & Mark, currently still tromping around Europe on their own great adventure, but somehow still taking the time to send some postcards out which makes me so happy! Go gnome, go! Cross that ocean!
xo