Grendel


Domestic Shorthair
Picture of Grendel, a male Domestic Shorthair

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Home:Lynnwood, WA  [I have a diary!]  
Age: 10 Years   Sex: Male   Weight: 21 lbs.

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   Leave a treat for Grendel

Nicknames:
Cow-cat, fur-person, Masked Man, Weirdling, Big Boy, Big Kitty, Fat Hobbit

Kitty Complexion:
 Activeness 
sleepyvery active
 
 Intelligence 
sillygenius
 
 Curiosity 
not curiousvery curious
 
 Friendliness 
timidaffectionate
 
 Vocal 
not vocalvery vocal
 

Quick Bio:
-mixed breed-pound cat

Coloration:
Black and White

Likes:
Being scratched, rubbed, petted, and paid much attention.

Pet-Peeves:
Being confined, the cat that keeps staring back at him from the other side of the glass doors on the fireplace, not being the center of attention, Me sleeping in past 5:00 A.M. Getting squirted when he tries to eat the plants.

Favorite Toy:
Despite many expensive cat toys, the one that always gets him going is an old leather shoelace.

Favorite Nap Spot:
Wherever I am. He follows me around like a puppy and always plops down for a rest where I happen to be.

Favorite Food:
Wellness canned and kibble. He goes crazy for cheese of any kind. Oatmeal (go figure)

Skills:
He has the psychic ability to predict exactly where I will step next and interpose himself--he is especially adept at this when we are going downstairs. He has also shown a remarkable ability to catch his own tail.

Dwells:
indoors

Arrival Story:
Grendel was serendipity for me. I had been thinking about getting a pair of kittens, but wasn't in any hurry. One day while shopping in the Greenwood neighborhood of Seattle, I came across the PAWS Cat City adoption center just as they were closing. That got me thinking more actively about the kittens. I went to PAWS the next day to look at kittens and found Grendel, a 2 year old, mewling piteously in his cage. When I went up to him, he stuck his paw outside the cage and looked at me with big yellow eyes and I figured I just had to bring him home. He survived the trip home in the "hell box"--meowing all the way. Once home, he settled right in as if he owned the place.

Bio:
Grendel came to his original bipeds as a kitten given away at a store. They couldn't afford to keep him after two years, so they gave him to PAWS. He wasn't happy with all the other cats around and he needed someone to give him his own place with a compliant staff--that's when he got me.

Lives Remaining:
9 of 9

Forums Motto:
Cow cats rule!

The Last Forum I Posted In:
How did your cat choose you?

Eye color:
Yellow

I've Been On Catster Since:
July 17th 2006 More than 8 years!

Rosette, Star and Special Gift History

Catster Id:
348909


Meet my family
RhiannonMaebh

Meet my Feline Friends
See all my Feline Friends
See all my Feline Friends
 

Ruminations of a Cow Cat


It's official: I have a harem!

March 24th 2007 6:52 pm
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Thank the cat gods that I have a feeble-minded human who is susceptible to the effects of my mental powers. True, he is still reluctant to get up and feed me when I want, but I attribute this failure to the extent of its sluggardly nature being too difficult to overcome, despite my mental prowess.

For some time, since the disappointing outcome of my romance with the fair Rhiannon, I have been working on the human's psyche to get it to bring me another female. At last, just two weeks ago, he dutifully appeared with a new object for my affections: The fair Maebh. What a beauty! She's a slim, athletic torbie Manx with wide eyes and a kittenish demeanor--and an even smaller tail than Ree's.

Her arrival brought great joy. Unlike my first meeting with Rhiannon, Maebh seemed delighted to see me and has been friendly from the first. Rhiannon, of course, is quite upset over having a rival for my affections. It's been a bit bumpy as the women fight over me. Fortunately, the ape is on hand to separate them when they clash and prevent either from harming the other.

Maebh, although slightly older than me, but much younger than Rhiannon, is somewhat juvenile and overenthusiastic in her attentions. Of course it's great to be the object of her fanatical attention, but I like my women to come only when wanted. Too often, I'll be resting comfortably only to be disturbed by Maebh wanting a little something. I gently warn her away by swishing my handsome tail, but she doesn't get it and tries playing with my tail. That kitty needs to learn to chill.

The effect on Ree has been to draw her closer to me, naturally. Fearing the loss of her man to a newcomer, she's been more affectionate than in the past. If I were cold hearted, I would tell she's lost her chance, but being the lover I am, I am delighted that she's come to her senses. Even this morning, Ree and I had a lay-down together on the back of the sofa. She came and snuggled with me so tenderly. Later, I went upstairs for a little time with Maebh and we snuggled for some time on the office loveseat--what a wonderful name for this piece of furniture.

My harem is complete. I'd like to see the ape call me Pepe le Peu now. Next, I need to redouble my efforts to get the monkey to obey my mental commands to get up at 3:00 AM and feed me--and my brides.

 

To build a peeple fence

December 17th 2006 9:53 am
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It's been some time since my last entry. The days get so busy with all the sleeping, playing, and eating that I find hardly a moment to write. Even now I am sacrificing precious nap time to put down these few thoughts.

The first concern I have these days is for a peeple fence that will restrict the ape to the lower floors of the house. Ree and I like to lounge about the main floor (where the kitchen is!) but the monkey climbs around all over the place. It's too much effort following him around to make sure he stays out of trouble. I often wake from a peaceful nap to see that he's scampered off somewhere and I have to go through the house calling out to him and, when I find him--usually tapping away at that clacky thing upstairs in the den--to plant myself nearby to keep him from mischief. Life would be so much easier if the peeple were restricted to a central location in the house. Or, perhaps a bell around his neck...

Speaking of the monkey's mischief, you won't believe the following. I've got used to the critter dragging all kinds of things into the house when he returns from "at work" (wherever that is) or, more importantly, from getting food for Ree and me. All sorts of things turn up. Sometimes it's plants, which are a sore point around here. I'm no vegetarian, but what else are plants good for other than eating or chewing? Last week, the monkey drags in a tree! Yes, a WHOLE TREE! I was going to put my paw down on this latest shenanigan of his until I saw how much he doted on it. He put little lights and shiny ornaments all over it and wrapped its base in a fancy blankety thing. You'd think it was a relative. Well, he looked so cute playing with his little shrub that I've let it stay. I've seen this behavior in peeples before. After a while, they tire of it and discard it. I hope he loses his fondness for it soon, it occupies valuable play space, although Ree seems to enjoy sitting under it. Funny, I've never pictured her as the outdoorsy type.

Every Sunday, the monkey disappears for a few hours and comes back smelling of cat--other cats! I'm not sure if he's hiring himself out on the side to new masters or not. Maybe he's been forced into it. I've noticed that he wears a shirt with "PAWS Volunteer" written on it. I recall PAWS as the place I stayed temporarily after dismissing my earlier peeple servants. Perhaps he's been put into servitude there to see to the needs of other fine cats who are temporarily discomfited by a change of lifestyle, as I was earlier this year. At least I have the comfort of knowing he is being of some use to cat-kind and not off being a nuisance to the neighborhood.

What of my beloved, you ask. I am not ashamed to say that we're just good friend now. How silly of me to fall in love, I who have always--and shall always--play the field. We share a servant and a living space and often play together, but the affection goes no deeper than that. She, of course, is crestfallen, but she must bear her sorrows as we all must. The monkey, clueless as he is, jibes that she doesn't like me. I swallow the insult rather than waste energy on rebuke. Besides, as I am a gentleman, I will not discuss my affaires de coeur lightly--and certainly not outside my species.

 

Has the world gone turvy?

August 23rd 2006 4:23 pm
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I'm rather exercised over the events of the past few days and unsure of how to proceed. The human needs disciplining, but I don't want to break its will or upset it. I still rely on its brute strength and forgaing abilities for various services.

The issue at hand is his tendency to expel me from the bedroom when I play with the ridiculous foliage he insists on dragging into the house. His latest folly is a small palm that he put in the room where I let him sleep. I don't see any purpose to it except as a distraction (it has nice dangly bits that are fun to bat at and chew on...). However, when I do with it what seems to be its only purpose, the human moves in to stop me--as if he were the one with authority in the house!

I could humor him in this conceit, as I humor him in many other ways, but this behavior seriously impacts breakfast. My usual effort to get him up at 5:30 AM is a drawn-out affair that requires several attempts interspersed with tactical withdrawals for regrouping. During these lulls, I find things to play with. The palm, serving no other purpose, is an ideal toy. However, though supposedly groggy, the human hears me play and starts that amusing chattering they do: "No" (an inscrutable phoneme whose meaning I have never understood), "Don't do that" (thanks, advice noted), "I'm gonna toss you out" (ha! you and what army, biped?). After a bit more of this burbling, the human gets out of bed and chases me out of the room; sometimes he accomplishes this act by actually PICKING ME UP and putting me down in the hallway. My indignation is palpable. After chasing me out, he closes the door and sleeps until 7:00.

The agony of the hunger pangs Ree and I feel during this period of privation are excrutiating. We make several attempts to break the door down or to reach under it and drag the human out. So far nothing has been successful; the door is too strong and the biped is out of reach. Our lack of opposable thumbs makes a direct attempt at turning the knob infeasible. This situation is growing intolerable and I must find some way to reestablish my authority before I find that the world has gone upside down and I am being treated like a pet or something.

It was caddish of the human to write IN MY DIARY about what transpired between the fair Rhiannon and me. I don't wish to go into it out of respect for Ree (though, I have to say it was FANTASTIC).

I sense that day by day, my lady is weaking in her reslove and will soon be my love slave. Her demeanor around me is much more relaxed, even friendly at times. I knew that my charm would win through (it's the "Zorro effect;" no woman can resist a masked man) and I am glad to see the clouds parting. Many days we will lay close to each other on the furniture. We even play from time to time; however, I am often unsure if she is playing with me or luring me into an ambush, so I tend to be careful about accepting her invitations to play. The only really frustrating situation is that she gets into a bit of a snit when I attempt the perfectly friendly act of sniffing her rear end. That's so odd. I would let her sniff mine. As in other situations, the monkey offers useless, unsolicited advice and "warnings" about what will come of my actions. How can I seriously respect the advice of a species that works for a living and is so primitive that there are several parts of their bodies that they can't reach with their tongues?

In this latter regard, it continues to amaze me that on a daily basis the biped goes into a booth and WETS HIMSELF ALL OVER. I suppose they need to do this because of their general inflexibility and poor tonguing abilities. This morning, as I do many mornings, I stood on the counter opposite the wet booth telling him over and over that this is no way to live. Perhaps if he did yoga he would gain the flexibility to clean himself all over with his tongue as civilized species do. For now, I can only remain perplexed at human behavior.

 
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