Captain Me-Ow

Captain Me-Ow is the name a friend gave to this photo of the late Louie the ginger cat, cat super hero. “Captain” because many super heroes have rank. “Me” for “it’s all about me” and “Ow” because that’s what happens to you if you don’t pay attention to “Me”! It is a favorite photo of that beloved cat.

Louie as super hero copy

The original photo wasn’t much. Just an under-exposed snapshot of my cat Louie sleeping on my computer chair. The cute super hero uniform is the work of a New Zealand friend with a delightful quirky sense of humor!

Some time after Louie died on August 1, 2011, I decided I wanted to hang an enlarged photo of him in my home. This was a natural. Aside from showing his magnificence, it shows him in a humorous way: Louie, if nothing, was a funny cat!

The person who custom framed things retired, so I tried to find a ready-made frame big enough to display the photo of Captain Me-Ow and failed. It has odd proportions. I ended up buying a poster frame that was way bigger than the photo. Friction and static electricity held the photo in place until wee Andrew started tugging on the bottom part of the frame, pulling it off.

Louie framed picture_edited-1

I re-attached the piece; Andy pulled it back off. Finally, I took the photo down till I found a solution, which was a smaller poster frame that still is bigger than the photo. Positioning the photo in the smaller frame, I let friction and static electricity hold it in place again. No problem there. AND it hanged higher than the other frame because it was smaller, of course, and I used the same nail. Andy, I figured, couldn’t reach high enough to bother this one!

Of course he did, pulling off the bottom piece of the frame again.

No cat will defeat me, I declared, and taped the thing together. Andy tried to repeat his naughtiness, but was defeated.

Or was he? He managed to break the hold of friction and static electricity on the photo, and gravity finished the process of creating what you see above: A cat-altered piece of cat memorabilia. The whole thing is taped tightly, would be a mess to straighten out.

The more I looked at it, the more I started to see the sense of it. A household with cats always is a bit askew. Louie couldn’t have done better! Ahem! “Captain Me-Ow”, rather.

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O Canada! Would you like two cats?

Face it. There are times cats just aren’t fun. Like when Andy and Dougy were babies and had diarrhea from an intestinal amoebic parasite. First they’d poop outside the litter box. (Little kitten legs couldn’t carry them there fast enough – I forgave them that!) Then I’d have to give them “poop baths”, as I called them, to put a joke on top of a crappy situation. Ever bathe a cat!? Two cats!? More than once or twice or three times a week!? I shudder to recall it!

Or, they aren’t much fun when you have to catch not one, but two cats to take them anywhere. They learn from each other’s mistakes, so you can’t let one see how you trapped the other or you will be late for your veterinarian or groomer appointment. Oh yes! Even if one don’t see you catch the other, there is an art to cat trapping. Maybe I’ll write about that some day. I’ve a fair amount of experience.

Or, you pick one cat up and he’s happy for five seconds of loving before he wants down again, so you pick up the other and find out he’s not only not in the mood for five seconds of loving, he’s having a hissy because you interrupted something he really, really wanted to do instead. You know, like nothing! Claws time.

Then there’s the fun side of cats, the “most of the time” side, where they purr when they see you. Or bump a tiny nose to your extended finger in a cat greeting. Or when you blinky-eye them your love, and they blinky-eye you back, forgiving you all those baths and other intrusions in their otherwise perfect existence.

Or waking up in the middle of the night because one of your cats is kneading bread all over your body in a little love fest of kitty massage. Oooh! It feels good, though I make sure all skin is covered because kneaded bare skin is not fun. My boys have their claws!

Or there’s cat play, a manifestation of pure joy we all should emulate before we turn into cranky old coots.

But enough of this! Tomorrow, Andy and Dougy will be the Big 2. Coincidentally, our great next door neighbor to the north, Canada, will be the Big 146! I’m a day early – I’m too excited! – but Happy Birthday, Andy, Dougy, and Canada! You all are the cat’s meow, purrfect, pussycats, and the cat’s pajamas! You all make me feel warm and fuzzy!