No Cats on the Table? What, This Table?

We have a very, very strict rule in the Ruffing household: No cats on the dining room table. Ever.

Of course, I should mention that these three cats are spoiled. They are allowed to sit on the couch and lounge on the ottoman and sleep in the bed, even wander around the bathtub whenever the mood strikes them. So these cats are not living a life encumbered by a whole lot of rules.

Just recently, I decorated the house for Thanksgiving. I spread my special Thanksgiving tablecloth out on the table and set out my floating candle centerpiece. Nice.

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Nurse Kitties

This blog is usually posted on Fridays. But last Friday, I couldn't post, because I was home sick in bed.

But I'm better now, because I had two of the best nurses ever: Sal and Dean.

Well, no, they couldn't take my temperature or bring me chicken soup...but they did provide me with a prescription that eased my flu-like symptoms: kitty-love!

The two of them took turns in two different positions on my bed as I slept off the illness.

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Playful Banter

There’s nothing like being greeted at the door with a big meow from my cat, Guinness, or the other attention-getting tactics he has perfected over the years. My cat’s soothing affection is one of many characteristics that I love about him. He also has the ability to make me laugh.  

Nearly every night around 8 o’clock my husband and I witness the chaotic rush of noise as my Tabby cat terrorizes our 50-lb. Husky. That’s right—my cat loves to bully my dog who is five times his size!

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Cats Need Reassurance Too!
 
Lubya is a very sociable cat. He'll greet guests at the door, waiting for—no, expecting—them to pet and massage him. But he's also very independent—at least when we're at home in New York.
 

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Bad Kitty!

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Jessica Bloustein
Sal and Dean

Morning Distractions

Sometimes, I'll admit, I come in to work a little late. Who doesn't? And there are many reasons for it: trains running late; traffic; long lines at Dunkin' Donuts...

I'd be lying if I tried to use any of those excuses.

At the risk of getting in trouble with my bosses, I'm going to explain why, on some mornings, I am late to work.

This is why: 

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Purrfect Cats

Lubya, my male cat, purrs when there’s food served to him. He purrs readily if you stroke or massage him. He purrs when he’s kneading the throw on the couch. He’s a purr-fect cat.

Mimi’s a harder nut to crack. She’s skittish and a little more tightly wound. But there’s one thing that will always get to her: rubbing her rump. 

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Penny
Penny

Please, Ma, Can We Keep Her?

Growing up Catholic, I was fascinated by St. Francis of Assisi. A guy who could talk to animals? That was my kind of saint!

When I was a kid, my family had numerous pets. Three dogs. A gerbil. Roughly 174 goldfish won at county fairs. Petey the parakeet. Not to mention the butterflies, lizards, hermit crabs, toads and tadpoles we raised over the years. Once we even hatched a preying mantis cocoon. (Cool!)

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Dean, Comfort Cat

Every night as I lay down to go to sleep, my tuxedo cat Dean and I play out a little ritual. 

It is expected that I lay perfectly still (yes, purr-fectly) on my back, with my arms out to each side.

That's Dean's cue to jump up on the bed, pace the length of my prostrated form, and choose a place to nestle.

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What to Do?

I found out recently that Lubya has a heart murmur. Seems as if the condition is not uncommon in male cats; it tends to show up in them between the ages of 3 and 5 years old. Lubya is almost 6 now.

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