Wednesday, December 5, 2007

8-Ball's Cabin Fever

What’s on your pet's reading list this Christmas? Let me know your feline and canine fictional favorites.

Just as I was beginning to really groove on the idea of having a moat around the ol’ castle, the waters receded and we are once again able to venture out into the yard—that is, if we don’t mind sinking an inch or six. With this newfound freedom after five long days of being first snow- and then monsoon-bound, 8-ball—whom you may remember from my previous post as our resident Boston Terrier-in-cat’s-clothing—immediately ventured forth in spite of a lifelong fear of alligators, bog critters, unfamiliar noises, and people he doesn’t know, only to return posthaste to leave muddy cat-prints all over the hall, dining room, bedroom, kitchen, and foyer. Ah, the joys of pet "ownership."

8-ball’s speedy retreat to the comforts of hearth and home belies a tortuous five days of feline cabin fever, spent first gazing in rapt fascination at snowflakes the size of golf balls, later shifting his stare accusingly from the sheeting rain to the ineffectual human denizens of the household who proved inexplicably errant in halting the deluge, and finally scampering hurriedly to the nearest lap at the first sound of knees creaking into a seated posture. During this time, 8-ball ventured out only once, and then only to determine once and for all that snow is (a) wet, (b) cold, and (c) kinda scary.


The bulk of his weather-bound captivity (when not staring pointedly at the catnip box, jumping on the kitchen counter for attention, or biting his brother Magic's neck—also for attention—and hanging on like a very determined rat terrier with a really juicy rat*) was spent rolling playfully, all four legs akimbo, on whatever either my husband or I happened to be reading/doing at the time. (It should be noted that in spite of a considerable amount of time spent strolling across computer keyboards, 8-ball has proven completely incapable of randomly producing Hamlet.) With so much time spent around books, newspapers, and computers, though, it’s only natural that 8-ball picked up a few favorites:

Three Stories to Read to Your Cat and Three Stories to Read to Your Dog. The beauty of these wonderful little volumes by Sara Swan Miller is their inherent cattiness and dogginess. If cats and dogs could write stories, this is what they’d write. (8-ball’s rating: 5 stars for subject matter that appeals to cats.)

Walter, the Farting Dog. OK, it’s not exactly Finnegan’s Wake, but James Joyce might well approve of William Kotzwinkle’s tale of a gas-plagued pooch (not to mention its numerous scatological sequels) with surreal illustrations by Audrey Coleman, focusing largely on the gust of wind from Walter’s backside. Rest assured anyone under the age of five will be laughing out loud. (8-ball’s rating: 5 stars for accurate depiction of people’s extreme over-reaction to dropping a harmless biscuit or two. Constance's rating: Er...
)

Magic Thinks Big, by Elisha Cooper. A testament to the power of imagination, solid and contemplative tabby Magic debates whether to go outside or stay indoors in this charmingly illustrated tale of the meditative power of cats. (8-ball’s rating: 4 stars for providing a potentially viable wishlist of “42 Things [8-ball] Might Want to Do This Year.” Minus 1 star for naming the cat Magic, instead of 8-ball. See earlier comments on Magic.)

Desser, the Best Ever Cat, by Maggie Smith. OK, maybe it’s not 8-ball’s favorite, but it is mine. An invitingly-illustrated tribute to the lifelong friendships between people and pets, Smith’s tale recounts the joy of growing up with a beloved pet. On a more solemn note, it also provides a thoughtful handling of the grief that accompanies that pet’s loss in old age. A thoughtful and reassuring story for children (or adults) coping with grief, Desser serves as a wonderful reminder of the unconditional love and companionship pets bring us throughout our lives. (8-ball’s rating: 5 stars because Desser looks like 8-ball and is the center of attention, which is as it should be. Constance’s rating: Desser, the Best EVER Cat Book.) .


The essense of cat nature: Illustration page from Desser, the Best Ever Cat

*Magic, being larger, solider, and more lethargic, generally ignores such vampire-inspired tactics, preferring instead to wait with Gandhi-like patientce for someone to come pry 8-ball off. Many are the mornings I emerge from the shower to find 8-Ball and Magic locked in tableaux.


7 comments:

westie_servant said...

8-Ball is one of the cutest cats I've ever seen. Is he really as serious as he looks?? I just love his markings.
We are reading McDuff's Christmas of course. And Tasha Tudor's the Night before Christmas that has a Corgi dancing with Santa while a cat plays the fiddle.
You really should put a hold on it it's so adorable. And of course mhy daughter's favorite, T.S. Eliot's Old Possom's book of practical cats!!!!
Great blog!

Constance said...

Thanks! I've put a hold on Tasha Tudor; can't go wrong there if it's even half as wonderful as Corgiville Fair. Love the McDuff picture on your posting, too. Rosemary Wells is great.

Yeah, 8-Ball LOOKS serious, but mostly he's kind of a goofball, with some scaredy-cat mixed in, and a healthy dose of most lovable therapy cat EVER when you feel down. He's on my lap right now. Should I read him some T.S. Eliot? Yeah, he's earned it. I'll let him know you think he's cute. ;)

Anonymous said...

I love all your cat stories. It reminds me of when we had Bill William and Agripina; two very different but totally compatible felines we owned 20+ years ago. Miss their satellite dish ears and fetching. Sigh. Really decent and mannerly cats.

Oh well. Now I have Mercedez Benz and Lokee and thems are great pet friends too! Miss M has been a bit worried about me for the past few days, especially the last two, since I have been under the weather . I am on the mend though, so she's sort of relaxing; not pacing and whimpering if I don't come out from underneath the covers for a long time. She's fed, watered and taken out for wee in a timely manner, but she worries even if she's refreshed and relieved. Kind of precious. Lokee just keeps singing Ode To Joy and giving me the wolf whistle when I pass, even with unwashed hair!

Snap Shots are not at all intrusive on your blog...nicely done! Glad you all survived the 1st big winter storm!

Constance said...

hannahgrams, hope you are feeling better. Amazing how our animals look after us when we're not feeling well. My old cat Stanzy who died at age 20 a few years ago she especially great for that. Very protective.

My cockatiel Gryphon used to sing his version of Eine Kleine Nachtmusik, which he learned from my neighbor, a music major in college. I found Gryphon an excellent new home when I moved here from New York, but that's another story.

Westie Servant, you're quite right about the Tasha Tudor! My hold came in today, and it's adorable.

Constance said...

Oops, sorry about all the typos in that last comment.... really must become a better proofreader one of these days. Maybe a New Year's resolution?

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