Friday, April 15, 2005

Stalking the Wild Siamese

This is one of my friend’s two Siamese cats. She is fifteen years old. I call her the Dowager Duchess. (The light is strong in this picture because the Duchess enjoys lying down under an incandescent lamp for warmth.)

The Dowager Duchess

Hold your mouse over the photographs for additional text. (I learned this trick from Meryl.)

This is the Duchess’s housemate, Her Ladyship. She’s about six and very jealous of any attention the Duchess receives.

Put that clickey thing in my face one more time and you’ll regret it.

Here they are together. (I apologize for the smaller photograph; I unwittingly changed the size settings on my cellphone before I took it.) Notice that Her Ladyship is stalking the Duchess, who was in that spot first.

Her Ladyship stalks the Dowager Duchess

The same thing happens at home. “I believe this was my spot,” says Her Ladyship. “Youth hath its privileges, Duchess. Now move.”

Her Ladyship prepares to muscle in on the Duchess

“Didn’t you hear me? I said: Move!”

What part of ‘move’ didn’t you understand?

The Duchess doesn’t have the patience for these power games. She just wants some peace and quiet, and if she has to give a little ground in order to get them, she will.

All right, here’s some of my spot. Now grow up.

Her Ladyship has a weak spot, though. Like all cats, she enjoys getting into a sheltered spot and peeking out at the world from there. In this case, her sheltered spot happens to be underneath my skirt.

Hiding? Who’s hiding?

My legs ache, Your Ladyship. May I stand up now?

Me? Hiding? Ridiculous. I was just sheltering from the sun.

Back inside, the Dowager Duchess is finally free to rest undisturbed.

Finally, some peace and quiet. Thank goodness.

Skritch early and often. Shabbat shalom!

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