Found Friday #30: Gatsby’s New Hobby

Y’all, what have I done?

The other night, relaxing in bed for a bit before I went to sleep, I was watching a video about a talking raven. Now, Gatsby has never, not once in his life, been even remotely interested in what’s on TV. He’s never noticed. He’s never paid any attention at all.

Well, he noticed that talking raven, and stalked down to the edge of the bed, and watched. Intensely. And so I thought, oh, fun, I’ll put on some videos for cats. Maybe he’ll enjoy them for a while. He’s an old cat. I won’t deny him some TV time if he wants it.

Now, he’s a cat obsessed. Whenever we come up to bed, he waits (mostly politely) for his shows to start. He stares at the blank screen and meows at us until we put something on it. He gets as close as he can, like a little kid watching cartoons. He gets invested. He watches TV like a little old lady watching her soap operas. It’s the most focused I’ve seen him in ages.

I think I’ve created a couch potato…

Found Friday #21: Where’s Gatsby?

I had a whole post written and ready to go for today, and it was not about Gatsby (my wonderful Maine Coon, in case you missed the post about him). But then, this afternoon, he disappeared.

Seriously, I went upstairs to brush my teeth and I couldn’t find him anywhere.

Now, Gatsby’s been known to pull the occasional vanishing act. When he was a kitten, his favorite hiding spot was tucked into the box spring under the mattress. Now that he’s older, he favors the little cubbies and crannies in our master closet.

So, I checked all the usual spots. He just wasn’t there.

And then, I heard a meow. Just a quiet one, from the vicinity of the bed.

So, where was Gatsby, then? Well…

And he’s still there. Hasn’t moved. Sleeping and purring away.

For reference, he has, for the very first time in his fifteen years of life, snuggled in under the blanket I drape over the duvet every morning so that it doesn’t get covered in fur.

I guess he got wise to my game. Cats, y’all…

Gatsby the Gentle Giant

Since I’ve written a couple of posts now about Annie, my crazy, wonderful Australian Shepherd, it feels only fair that I should also feature my big, beautiful Maine Coon cat, Gatsby.

Gatsby is almost fifteen years old. I got him when I was a senior in college, and he was just a scruffy little kitten.

Boy did he grow.

I didn’t know when I adopted him that he was a Maine Coon. I just figured he had a little extra fluff, and really, don’t we all? But here we are, all these years later, and he’s grown into a gentle giant with a huge personality.

He has a knack for always finding the sunniest spots.

And the best angles to show off his handsome face.

He and Annie are…not friends…but we’ve managed. Gatsby makes it easy, honestly. His favorite thing to do is nap, so they don’t see much of each other.

At fifteen, I know he’s an old man, but I’m so happy I found him, and I cherish every moment with him. He really is a special animal.