Welcome to Street Prophets Sunday Coffee Hour cleverly located at the intersection of religion and politics. I thought today we could talk about cats (pooties) especially black ones. I’ve always had cats but Pixie is my first black cat. She was born along with two black and one smokey grey siblings. Mommy cat split early so Mom got kitten food and fed them. One of the black cats decided to explore inside the house. Mom let her explore, sit on her lap, and eat inside. Then she couldn’t figure out why the cat didn’t want to go back outside. Eventually the other three cats moved on and Pixie became part of the household.
Pixie lives up to her name. My brother and I named her because Mom wanted to call her Snickerdoodles. I informed this first time cat owner that you need a name that is easy to yell when she gets into something she shouldn’t.
I inherited Pixie after Mom passed away. She has turned into one of the biggest Mama’s girl. She loves to be near me. She demands her dinner at 4:00 PM but waits to eat until I’m at the table eating my supper.
Pixie loves to “help” when I am working on my jewelry making. I was making a delicate piece that would have two small delicate chains hanging down. I had fastened the first chain and was ready for the second chain. I looked all over trying to find that chain. I eventually gave up and made a new chain. I found the original chain two days later in Pixie’s food bowl.
To this day Pixie feels that I can’t do jewelry on my own. That I need her help.
Pixie is very vocal. When we moved to this apartment we placed the couch under the window in the living room. Pixie loves to sit on top of the couch on one of her many pootie pads. I was in the kitchen unwrapping dishes and setting the kitchen up. Pixie was on the back of the couch chittering. Suddenly she jumps off the couch and runs into the kitchen and chitters at me and runs back to the back of the couch. She was trying to tell me what she saw. I think she said it was a green elephant with orange stripes. Her accent does get a bit thick sometimes so I have to guess what she is saying.
She loves to help me put clothes away. I’m not sure how pulling the clothes out of the drawer that I just put in is helping however.
Pixie is a Mama’s girl. She tolerates Reid and lets him scratch her. Of course she reaches around and smacks him when she has had enough. One day I came home from grocery shopping and Pixie was sitting in the kitchen waiting for me. She was mad! I asked Reid what the problem was with Pixie and he said he taped her gently on her butt in order to get by her. Pixie’s expression yelled, “He touched my butt. Tell him he can’t touch my butt.”
Pixie is easy to entertain. All you have to do is flush the toilet.
Since my place to paint is the dining room/kitchen Pixie will come and eat her noms while I paint. I did her portrait called Pixie at Night. My brother calls it The Glare and asked to be put up on his wall over the computer.
Reid learned the hard way not to put food on the floor. He was eating some pretzels and put the bag down on the floor next to him. Pixie just helped herself.
The Daily Kos community had a Community Quilt made for me. Of course Pixie feels that the quilt is hers.
This is my little girl. She is very special. My Mom died of a silent heart attack around 3:00 AM. Pixie stayed with the body for 12 hours until Mike came home from work. For the longest time Pixie would wake me up a 3:00 AM to make sure I was okay.