The queen celebrates another birthday
It’s a special time around our house this week as the queen of our household celebrates yet another birthday.
This queen has the run of the house day and night and really doesn’t have to do anything or report to anyone. She quite often gets a little temperamental and thinks she owns the place. She doesn’t have the time of day for anyone unless it’s on her terms. What a life, I’m constantly reminded.
In the mornings, she hangs outside the bedroom craving attention, but of course, I’m no fool. I know exactly what she wants. She wants to be fed. Once that happens, she’s back to her sneaky old ways dodging everyone in sight.
You may think I’m talking about my teenage daughter who just turned teen years a month ago, but I’m referring to the other queen of the house. It’s our dear Ginger, a sly old cat who turned 16 years old on Tuesday. In human years, I believe that makes her the ripe old age of 77.
The commonly held belief that every “cat year” is worth seven “human years” is not entirely accurate. In reality, a 1-year-old cat is physiologically similar to a 16-year-old human, and a 2-year-old cat is like a person of 21. For every year thereafter, each cat year is worth about four human years.
What amazes me about our Ginger is that she is as sleek and thin as she was as a young kitty. Age seems to have no effect on her. I wish humans could make the same claim.
Ever since she was a young kitty when we adopted her, Ginger has bounced around the house as if she owns the thing. I keep reminding her that she needs to get a job to help pay for the mortgage, but not surprising, it falls on deaf ears. She continues strut- ting around the house like there’s no tomorrow.
Really the only love and affection one can gain from Ginger is sneaking up behind her or catching her when she’s asleep. Start scratching her and her motor takes off. I swear the house begins to rattle and shake when that happens. I’ll never understand why she plays cat and mouse with the one who delivers her a feast every morning and doesn’t starve for more attention.
Second thought, why should she? She has it made in the shade. She gets to prowl around the house when nobody is around,
gets fed when she wants and ignores everyone when she feels like it, which is pretty much all the time.
Speaking of mice, yes we have had a few in the house over the years. And Ginger acts like they are some sort of toy. She really doesn’t take care of business. One time there was a mouse right in front of her and she just looked at it like “yeah, so what!” At least she could earn her keep by keeping the mouse population under control.
So the queen gets another year, or four human years, older. I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I’ll just keep supporting the queen and her ways.
I hear the uncontrollable whining for her morning feast, again. It’s time to go in hot pursuit of catering to the queen of the house.