What is there to say? I'm not very interesting. I'm not a good writer. I don't even dress well. If you insist on knowing something about me just wander through the archives. It's all there.

Sunday, May 29, 2005

On the cat and the dishwasher

There is a cat who has occupied our house since she was a small kitten. Like all cats she is well behaved and affectionate only when it serves her ends. Being a mix of Abyssinian and Siamese, she is a small, but striking lady with a beautiful striped fur coat. The Siamese part of her heritage has also given her one of the loudest, most obnoxious voices you have ever heard. I, actually, wanted to name her, Yow Ling, but was overruled by other members of the family. She can generate a loud sustained whining screech that brings tears to your eyes and causes the wallpaper to curl. It seems impossible that such a small body could generate such a heart-rending cry at such ear shattering volumes.

For reasons beyond our understanding, she will begin yowling whenever you unload the dishwasher. Note, that I specified unloading. She is not bothered at all by the loading of the dishwasher. You can open and close the dishwasher door for hours. She will do what all house cats do so well; ignore you. You can clatter through the cupboard or the silverware drawer and she will treat you like less than nothing, far beneath her notice. But if you start unloading clean dishes from the dishwasher even many hours after the cycle has completed, then all the windows in a three-block area will be cracked by her dissonant calls.

We have always wondered about this. It doesn't seem to be related to feeding her, since she acts like what we are doing is pure torture for her. None of us can ever remember her having had any bad experiences with the dishwasher. She will sit quietly nearby when it is running and even on the door of it when you are loading the dishes. I had a theory that maybe the clinking of the glassware and silverware were hurting her ears, but a number of clinking, clanking, and oops, breaking experiments have ruled this theory out. What aspect of clean dishes could possibly trigger such piteous mournful cries?

I am one of those people who subscribe to the theory that house cats are actually transplanted aliens from another galaxy. They simply act too weird to be from this planet. Perhaps, in that distant place the sound of clean dishes portends some ominous fate. Perhaps, their civilization was kidnapped and brought here in a flying saucer. Oh.


Blogger Alterior said...

I used to have a cat like that. Her dad was a Birman and her mum a Siamese and her voice was indeed loud as well. In addition to that, her fur was a bit too long and thin so whenever you cuddled her you would end up with loads of hairs on your clothes. Her name was 'Pussy' as that was (embarassingly perhaps) the only name she wished to respond to. To add insult to injury, she would decide to scratch and bite really hard the person who was stroking her, once she had had enough of it and she was so picky with her food that she would only eat Whiskas rabbit or shrimp packets (never tins - she poo-pooed those...).

By the way, really like your blog. You do write well.



29/5/05 4:27 AM  
Blogger HCaldwell said...

Thank you.
Actually, she is fairly easy to live with except for a mischievous streak (probably from the Abby side of the family) and her unfortunate dishwasher disorder.

29/5/05 7:38 AM  
Anonymous markus said...

...and brought here in a flying saucer.
or a flying (clean) dishwasher ;)

i found your blog via magictony's.
you're funny, dude!

7/6/05 3:58 AM  

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