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ladyspriteAs rotten as my life can get, as unpleasant as things can be (and they're nowhere near that extreme, at this point), I really ought to remember that having office cats always makes things better.
Right now, I have the delightful entertainment of watching one of the veteran clinic cats teach the new cat how to Be Bad. M has been living in the clinic for years, and has managed to learn how to create a maximum amount of trouble for minimum effort, while S spent most of his life living with an elderly couple, being spoiled rotten, and never engaging in any behavior more catastrophic than occasionally swatting a toy under the sofa.
Over the past week, I have watched with mingled amusement and concern as S. has learned to jump on X-rays, hover near the door to the exam rooms in the hopes of escape, and hide in the cabinet behind the eyedrops when it's time to take his medicine. Today's lesson was apparently in shoulder-perching, as I spent most of my time between appointments desperately trying to dodge not one but two furry bullets of affection. Unfortunately, while M. is a veteran shoulder-surfer, S. has yet to actually develop any sort of talent, and tends in fact to slowly slide down one's back, whining quietly and steadfastly refusing to surrender a shred of dignity as he staggers around your spine.
On the other hand, while these are probably not the best behaviors for him to pick up long term, it did work wonders on the horrible mood I had at the start of the day. It's incredibly difficult to stay morose and cranky and sullen while two cats are dancing circles around your ankles and another firmly pushes you into a chair and jumps onto your lap. There are so many unwritten perks to my job....
Right now, I have the delightful entertainment of watching one of the veteran clinic cats teach the new cat how to Be Bad. M has been living in the clinic for years, and has managed to learn how to create a maximum amount of trouble for minimum effort, while S spent most of his life living with an elderly couple, being spoiled rotten, and never engaging in any behavior more catastrophic than occasionally swatting a toy under the sofa.
Over the past week, I have watched with mingled amusement and concern as S. has learned to jump on X-rays, hover near the door to the exam rooms in the hopes of escape, and hide in the cabinet behind the eyedrops when it's time to take his medicine. Today's lesson was apparently in shoulder-perching, as I spent most of my time between appointments desperately trying to dodge not one but two furry bullets of affection. Unfortunately, while M. is a veteran shoulder-surfer, S. has yet to actually develop any sort of talent, and tends in fact to slowly slide down one's back, whining quietly and steadfastly refusing to surrender a shred of dignity as he staggers around your spine.
On the other hand, while these are probably not the best behaviors for him to pick up long term, it did work wonders on the horrible mood I had at the start of the day. It's incredibly difficult to stay morose and cranky and sullen while two cats are dancing circles around your ankles and another firmly pushes you into a chair and jumps onto your lap. There are so many unwritten perks to my job....
