Noah looking out the window from his kitty bed, after having tucked himself in.
Noah became very spoiled very quickly. As a part of Noah going on trips, he learned to wear a harness and leash. He never would walk on it and go where I wanted him to. He would go where he wanted, and not play "dead cat" and refuse to move.
A few months after Noah entered my life, Amon wandered in. He and Noah eventually became buddies and playmates, Noah needed another cat to play with. Amon, who was no youngster when he entered my life, needed to play just as much. At the time Tom and I lived in a 2 story townhouse apartment, so one of the cats' favorite games was "herd of stampeeding wildebeests". This involved running hell-for-leather, up the stairs, in the bedroom, across the bed, out the bedroom, back down the stairs, through the living room/dining room, back up the stairs...usually at 3am.
Besides being a very sweet companion, who is always more than ready to cuddle, Noah has a mischevious streak. This is not helped by the fact he knows what thumbs are, he sees myself and Tom using ours for all sorts of neat things, and desperately wants a pair himself. He knows how to use doorknobs, but can't get enough of a grip on them to open doors. Unless he is really hungry, he picks up his food with his paw, brings it up to his mouth, and eats it piece by piece. He has also demonstrated he knows that if he is on one side of a door he has to puch it open, and if he's on the other, he has to pull it open. I'm not claiming that Noah is any smarter than the average cat; most just don't show off so they can get their human to do what they want. He would be truly dangerous with a pair of thumbs.
Noah in his stacking crate cubbyhole. His cubbyhole was about 4 feet above the floor; he would climb up the fromt of the crates like a ladder.
From and early age, Noah also took an interest in my art supplies. He was constantly fascinated by the little sticks I held in my hand that would make all sorts of strange marks on paper. For some reason, his mommy got very upset with him whenever he tried to "help" and make some marks of his own. Every onec in a while, I would get careless with a project, and end up turning in a drawing with a few paw prints that I didn't intend. I had to be careful when I worked in ink, Noah decided for some reason that he liked black India ink. Liked, as in liked the taste. He would dip his paw in the jar of water I used to rinse my brushes in, and lick his paw dry, since he couldn't reach the water with his mouth. He would repeat this as long as I would let him. I didn't get upset, since I purposely bought non-t0xic ink. It was just too funny, to this day I joke he was trying to make himself completly black. (He has about 10 white hairs on his chest) Now that he is older, and some of the kittenish mischief is gone, he is content to sit on my work table, or nap by my chair. Even when I work in oils, Noah is right there, watching or napping. For those who are not familiar with oil paints, the fumes are very strong, so with cats' very acute sense of smell, I'm suprised the fumes don't bother him.
There are 7 years worth of tales I could tell, which will be the subject of future, short posts. This ends my introduction of Noah. I hope you enjoyed it.
Looking out the window from the couch.
Be sure to check out the Friday Ark at The Modulator.
Also, Sunday's Carnival of the Cats is at Cathcoll.net.
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