Tuesday, October 21st8.8°C
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Old as dirt. Twice as gritty.

It's Sunny inside

 
First up: As you can see, I have returned like the proverbial bad penny. For those who wondered where in hell I was, all I can say: alien abduction. For those who didn’t actually notice me gone, all I can say is: Pfffft. 
 
Never mind, though, this column is about the Sunny side of life. There is a new occupant next door, she lives with daughter Heather and grandson Andrew. The new occupant is ‘Sunny’ (a name that does not remotely describe this particular whirlwind of energy, claws, teeth and general brain-rattling insanity). She is neither sunny in nature nor sunny in appearance, but it is still a good name, since a proper descriptive name like ‘Crazed Wandering-eyed Spotted Nut-job’ would take too long to say, especially if the creature in question is on a mid-air collision course with you.
 
“HEY!!!!!!! Crazed Wandering-eyed Spotted Nut-job, stop that!”
 
And for all that extra effort of a long name, she would ignore you anyway. So, Sunny it is.
 
Sunny’s default setting is ‘serial killer’. You cannot walk or sit anywhere, at any time, without being stalked, then savagely attacked. You have to walk slowly and carefully, because she appears from nowhere, leaps at you, then races off to reconnoiter. Because you are walking slowly in order to avoid stepping on her by accident, you make for a nice slow-moving target. I think she knows this.
 
With all those Siamese spots, Sunny is effectively dressed in camo, and she takes this natural disguise very seriously. When she is hiding in plain view, she knows you cannot see her. You know when you are not supposed to see her by looking at her one-eye-wandering psychotic eyeballs (the one eye has not decided which way to look, but I’m guessing it will eventually be looking pretty much directly at the other eye). It is only when she randomly leaps three feet straight up at you that you are allowed to discover her incredible stealth-presence.
 
Heather, who had been enjoying the joys of reasonable morning wake-up times now that Andrew has grown past the 5 AM ‘let’s GO!!’ wake-ups, is once again awake at 5 AM because that is when Sunny would like to be awake. Sunny’s previous 3 AM ‘feeding’ (read: playtime) has mostly been abandoned now, which is nice, this way Heather gets enough sleep to at least stay awake at work, but not getting up at 3 AM means a playtime emergency at 5 AM.
 
Sunny never cried when she needed her 3 AM playtime, mind you. She found that it was more efficient to simply jump on Heather’s face and bat at her eyeballs (not using claws, which is probably a good thing). Now that she is older, her methods are improving. For the 5 AM playtime/get-the-hell-up time, she snuggles in the crook of Heather’s shoulder, which is pretty nice for Heather, except for the new bite-the-nose part. When ‘nice’ doesn’t translate into wakefulness, she moves in to lie directly on top of Heather’s throat, the idea being that Heather is either going to get up or she is going to die. You just cannot argue with the high efficiency methods of this cat. 
 
Jim and I visit Sunny each day, because she is still young and, being a classic people cat, as Siamese are wont to be, gets a bit lonely when Heather is at work. Also, she provides us with a free midday laugh. She comes over to our house for visits quite often, because when we try to leave her house, she sits prettily by the door waiting to go with us. When she is here, she helps with home improvement, for example by discovering a hole in the wall where the dryer vent runs from the second floor to the main floor and out. It was either patch the hole or eventually tear down the entire house searching for a cat within the walls. The patch seemed easier. By ‘patch’, I mean ‘towel shoved in hole’. She may be into home improvement, but she is just a kitten. She isn’t aware yet of quality home improvement vs our method.
 
Jo Slade
 
So, the forecast is now always Sunny. And sure, it includes occasional rain (she is obsessed with water, hangs around in the sink to savagely attack tap drips) and deadly lightning strikes (as she leaps at her unsuspecting human prey), but that’s really just the Sunnyshine tax one pays to live in this best of all Sunny worlds. 
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About the Author

This bio was written by Jo Slade. As you can see she has written about herself in the third person. What normal person would do that? They just wouldn't. Who knows how many other persons might be involved in this thing, a second person? Another third? I worry about it. I - she - we - can't even keep it straight, this paragraph is a damn mess, there are persons all over the place. Round 'em up and shoot 'em. That's what I'd do, and by golly I think that's what Jo Slade would do as well.

Biographic nutshell: Jo has been messing around with words for a long time. Sometimes she'll just say words instead of writing them, it saves on paper.

This column: The columns that will appear here are of a highly serious and scholarly nature, therefore it is advised that you keep a dictionary and ponderous thoughts nearby.

If, after reading the column, you find yourself tossing and turning at night, burning with the need to email me, just do it. I answer to [email protected]




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The views expressed are strictly those of the author and not necessarily those of Castanet. Castanet presents its columns "as is" and does not warrant the contents.

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