Tom and the Lavatory soap

Of course, your cat wants to do everything you do.  So it is with,Tom, the resident cat with Barbara
Thomas (writing as Barbara Lockett).  As I make myself presentable in the morning Tom likes to join me, hopping up on the counter in the bathroom.  He opens the cabinet and would like to venture in, but there is no room for him.  The cabinet is full, so he pads across the counter to examine the soap dish.  He sniffs it and almost applies the tip of his tongue to it.  Satisfied, he loses interest and gets out of the way for me to apply makeup under bright lighting.  I know he will check out the soap again.  Evidently, he likes the smell of clean soap.

Business Unusual!

I arose this morning to notice much activity going on next door.  Steam issued from a 24" diameter hole next to the driveway of the house next door.  As a result the concrete driveway was scooped up to the mud underneath and cement poured on for a new surface.  Workers are still there working dirt into the sides of the drive. 


Still unseasonably cold here.  I am losing time to be outside on the ground pulling a backyard full of weeds out.  The weeds are the pretty little purple flowered stems jutting up, filling the back yard like a carpet over the ground.  The heck of it is it is too cold to work outside, and the weather shows no sign of improving.  I have tried to be out and clear away the weeds, but am allergic to the cold.  Runny nose and shivering frame, I don't survive the cold along with the wind.  I will try again today.  I may clear a little more ground.  However, there is a lot of it.  I have a big backyard.

Tom and the Soapdish

Tom shares the bathroom in the mornings as I prepare for the day.  He investigates the items on the counter by the lavatory.  The soap fascinates him.  Apparently, he likes the scent.  But it doesn't stop there.  He even tests it with his tongue, lightly of course.  Yes, cats are curious .

Helper Tom

Today, Tom is adamant about his input for this posting.  He is pawing on the side of my chair with his claws out.  Except for the Captain's Chair I'm sitting in, he would be in my lap and up on the computer desk.  However, the chair has spindles under the side arms.  I have to say, he has now given up gracefully and retired away from the room.

Tom, Sensitive to My Illness

I can't call nosebleed an illness, but it does confine one to a reclining position for a time.  Tom, ever ready to help me by lying down beside me when I rest always senses when I am down.  I can often count to ten, and he is with me before I get to ten.  I am now past the last one.

Tom's Comfort Zone

I apologize for not keeping up with my blogs due to physical treatments now over.  To resume, Tom's comfort zone is on my bed.  If I am not there, it is on my pillow -- bed made up and neat.  Otherwise, Tom is often upstairs on one of the twin beds with white lace spreads.  His dusty fur leaves a  dusty, dingy darkened spot.  However, the longer I live the more I tolerate small error to keep my days as simple and easy on me as possible.

Noble Cat Tom's Winter Antics

Severe cold, snow and icy streets and roads outside affects our behavior.  So our pets also react.
The big, strong Tom in my house has been able to go out in the evening for about four hours, but
the below freezing temps at night I do not impose on him.  He comes in when I turn out the lights.


Suddenly, for no reason he began racing through the rooms.  At first, I thought, as usual he had seen a bird or a squirrel move around the house and had run to watch from another window.  Not this time.
He did not stop but raced through the rooms several times.  He must have concluded,  "I need to exercise more." 


Another new thing happened one morning as I was going through my morning ablutions.  He sat upon the counter next to the lavatory and watched the drops fall from the dripping faucet.  Call the plumber again after the last time?  No.  He watched for a few moments, and then put out his paw trying to catch each drop.  Not satisfied with this failure, he tried to bite the drops.  I expected he would then lick the faucet for the water, but not so.  It wasn't water to him, but a game.  I wonder
how he would tell the story.


Yet another game, not so new, but a bit different.  He jumped to the edge of the bathtub between the shower curtain and the plastic sheet next to the shower and delighted himself lashing his tail against the plastic.  A cat's got to beat up something, even with his tail, to show his prowess as a fighter.