And this is another anniversary. Another one-year-anniversary. Living with my now 16-year-old cat I adopted last year. March, 17thI picked him up … what an excitement for both of us. Getting used to each other, getting used to our new home together. And it’s been a great year. Working from home definitely has its perks. Especially when it comes to my cat … being spoilt rotten by throwing his toy mouse around whenever he is in a playing mood, loudly meowing, dropping his mouse in front of me. He still ignores his other toys, not that I wouldn’t try introducing him to new stuff … total waste of time (and money). He prefers his one kind of toy mice. Everything else just exists as decoration.
Recently he has also become quite finicky when it comes to his food … I don’t even dare thinking how much I have already thrown out because he absolutely refused to eat it. Even though I try to trick him occasionally by drowning it in his beloved “leberwurst” paste or mixing it with another tasty brand. Clever cat that he is, he often manages to pick out the good stuff, leaving the less liked in his bowl. Well, why would a cat be different from his human companions? After all, I’m doing the same and am quite good at dissecting food if I don’t like it. Like cutting off every morsel of fat when it comes to meat. (Unless it’s the crispy top of a juicy pork roast!)
One cat year. Sometimes I can really hardly believe how quickly the past year went by. And the comfort we gave each other. Just by being each other’s company. Even though he sometimes just wants to be left alone, sleeping in his cuddly fluffy bed in the living room (or his cardboard box I outfitted with a soft blanket). But most of the time he is wherever I am. Sleeping on the couch in my study, when I’m working, joining me on the living room couch when I’m watching TV, sleeping tightly cuddled up next to me in bed. And of course, whenever I enter the kitchen … he is there. To not miss anything. Something edible might land on the floor. He especially gets excited whenever I’m chopping something. The only way to satisfy his curiosity it letting him smell the food, like onions, mushrooms, tomatoes … with him disgustedly wrinkling his nose and leaving the kitchen.
One cat year, one happy cat year, I hope. He certainly seems content and happy. Even though he surely hates me to pieces when I have to stuff him into his transport box for going to the vet … but with some treats afterwards (preferably tuna or chicken) he soon forgets his ordeal and I’m back in his good graces.
Our year together was great and I hope we will have some more, despite his already proud age of 16. Happy anniversary, Spatzi!
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