Ranger the Cat on a Laminate Floor

Date: November 28, 2005 (San Diego)

      Ranger on a laminate floor can be a wild source of entertainment - for hours and hours.

      First of all, Ranger, the big orange tabby fluff ball that passes for a cat, is prone to wild running sessions, the length and height of the house as it were. He is unused to a tri-level, and unused to floors without wall to wall carpets. He has them now. Laminate floors. Scatter rugs. And three levels of mayhem.
      First, he tries to start running. The feet move, but they do not grip. Sort of like a wind up car you are just holding above the ground. The hips flail, and he lowers his front end, and --- he goes nowhere.
      After a moment or two, in which I fall over laughing, he manages to get traction (claws do not work), and launches.
      He runs in a wild leap and pounce manner, tail up, leaping from throw rug to throw rug. The larger ones he skates about the room, requiring me to straighten them or fall downstairs. The smaller ones he scrunches up. It looks like a hurricane went down the hallway.
      He does this through all three levels of the house, back and forth, winding up on the sofa, panting, in my spot. This requires that I immediately sit on him.
      He protests, and eventually I let him escape.
      He then sticks his leg in the air and proceeds to wash, turning his butt in my direction. A cut direct from a cat.
      The only basic problem with this house, and cats that are allowed INSIDE, is the fact the Ranger still persists in the idea that he must be first - down the hall, down the stairs, whatever.
      This means I must step on or over the cat at the top of the stairway, where he will flop down to block my forward motion. I have succumbed to the temptation to skate his furry backside over the laminate floor, which he rolls all over anyway, and use him as a dust mop.
      Little Bit, who has not recovered from the indignity of being captured, chooses to sit in the kitchen sink garden window, or on the sideboard, or the edge of the sink, and complain loudly. I fed her, her own plate, put out clean water, but this was not enough. She sat on the kitchen floor and loudly meowed at me until I fetched the second litter pan and used up my litter. She likes her pan clean. Ranger has never learned to bury anything and could care less. (Well, he does reach an annoyed point and leaves me a momento if I am not quick off the mark.)
      I thought that Little Bit was sick at first, but seeing her leap up and down off the kitchen counter - no, just THIN from being outside for 13 months!!!!
    She has allowed me to PET HER!!!! Miracle of miracles. So I pat her head, rub her with my feet (feet are OK - just not usually hands), and lately, I got to pat her all over. She rolls around on Ranger and I suspect some companionship there. Sometimes. She has made it into the cat tree.
    She looks to be about 1/2 Ranger's size.
   Just so I am not lonely, both cats hang around my bedroom door all night (dog sleeps in the room). Both cats try to trip me down the stairs first thing in the morning. The dog (Trim, the border collie), runs in confused directions, still trying to figure out the house. She can climb the stairs, but fails to look up if you are not on her level.
    She has escaped three times from the yard, three times - in spite of fences, stumps blocking gates, and other precautions. Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle. She thinks of this as a game.
    Ranger has made it into the garage (twice), and once made it out the back door for 30 seconds. Open a door, Ranger, head bouncing up and down, is right there. Full of curiosity is Ranger. Silly beast.
    I do not hear coyotes howling like they used to when I first lived here. I wonder------