In case you’re wondering, the word, grimalkin, means cat. When I read this word in the online thesaurus and then in the dictionary, I latched on to it. It’s a word from the 16th century. I’m wondering why someone hasn’t snatched it for a pet product of some sort.
It’s been about a year since I’ve discussed my cats here at my blog. I’ve thought about mentioning them several times but have always ended up leaving them out of the post for one reason or another. I haven’t taken any recent pictures of my brood either. I just haven’t been interested in the camera.
I’m starting to diverge. Sorry about that.
The picture above is from about two year ago. Clarisse is a little bigger now and had her first litter of kittens late last spring. She’s become a bossy and selfish little thing. She wants to eat first, and she doesn’t want any of the other felines eating when she does. Yes, a true brat cat.
Her brother, Charley, with his half tail, is still around. Usually he isn’t on the deck except for the evening feeding. This doesn’t mean he isn’t on the property though. He’s dubbed himself ‘The Protector’ even though Jake is still here as the alpha male. Because Clarisse is so full of herself and doesn’t pay proper attention to her young, it’s Charlie who defends them when the stupid orange tom cat comes looking for someone to pick on.
As I stated, Jake is still here. He’s getting old but isn’t really what I’d call a senior yet. He’s still the all-white Manx (no tail) although much bigger because he’s been fixed. He’s usually lazy, laying on the glider or on the perch, but when the tom cat is in the year he gets ready to pounce on him along with his son (Charley). The moronic orange cat doesn’t have a chance when both of my outside males go after him. He runs for the woods just beyond the property line for the backyard.
Clarisse had three dinky kittens. The one and only that looked like her wandered too far away. Husband saw him/her in the parking lot of the Dollar General store a few blocks away. Being the normal cat, husband couldn’t catch him/her. Still, there are the other two that are pure gray. Their names are Wilber and Wilma.
These two half-grown kittens have decided they should be inside cats. Of course, because this house already had three grimalkins inside, there isn’t any way that these two are going to be allowed in. When the dishes are filled with cat food for the morning and evening meals, both are right at the sliding door wanting to be petted before they start munching.
What got me stirred up to write this piece was a post Laura write for her blog, Riddle in the Middle, not long back. She was questioning the intelligence of her dogs. I don’t know for sure how smart my cats are, but I’m sure I don’t give them enough credit in that department. One thing is for sure. Each pet has his/her own personality, and if you pay attention, you’ll see this come out in them.
Now then, I have three cats inside too, but their charisma and shenanigans will have to wait for another post. Hopefully I’ll feel like taking some updated pictures of them too.
Cats exercise… a magic influence upon highly developed men of intellect. This is why these long-tailed Graces of the animal kingdom, these adorable, scintillating electric batteries have been the favorite animal of a Mohammed, Cardinal Richlieu, Crebillon, Rousseau, Wieland. –Leopold Von Sacher-Masoch