The Continuing Adventures of Harry

  Aaah feet!  Well, you humans call them feet.  I like the more cat-like name of paws!  After all at 3 o'clock in the morning, would you rather have my smelly feet rubbing your nose or my nice warm furry paws touching you? OK, I admit I made that comparison rather easy.  But, let's face facts.  I look at my human's feet and what is so special about them?  I mean dad walks around bare foot all the time and I'm sorry but his feet are nothing to drool over. Even mum won't mention his feet, but she gets down right giddy when she looks at mine.  I have to admit they are rather kind of cute and my toenails... er... claws never come out, except for that three in the morning nose scratch! The one thing I didn't like at first was when mum would give me manicure... or is it a pedicure?  Who knows, I just know I didn't like it it.  She'd grab my paw and made my poor defenseless claws come out and she'd wack off the end!  The very sharp end tha...

There are some things that I truly love having as a house cat.  I'm not sure which one would be on top of the list, but my scratching post would certainly be right up there. Nothing brings me such simple joy as that post.  When I'm hungry but my parents won't feed me for another hour, I'll go to that post and scratch and scratch, it takes away my anxiety and my hunger pains. Other times, I'll run to it and climb it as mom or dad enter the room, it is guaranteed, they'll walk over and pet me on both sides from my shoulders down to my hind quarters - a full body massage. This is my second post.  My first one was used so much that there wasn't much left to it, so my humans got rid of it.  I had no idea what was going on but my post was gone!  I thought I did something wrong.  I'd run into the living room and go to where it was and had nothing to scratch!  Two.  Whole.  Days.  With no post!  I was confused and yes angry! On the third da...

 Alright,, you're here because you have a minor problem which is found deep in your subconscious.  I can help you with that. Just sit down and relax.  Look into my eyes.  As my voice begins to disappear, you'll become more relaxed.  That's it just look into my eyes. When humans do this exercise they are told to follow the watch.  To watch the watch as it slowly goes back and forth.  Well, I don't own a watch and time is irrelevant to us. So instead, listen to the purrs.  One light purr... then a deep long purrr....  Now you, let's purr together.  One light purr.... a deep long purr.  Good, keep purring with me and as you look into my eyes, we'll go into your subconscious together. Aaaah....I see what is troubling you.  Yes, it's coming into view.  More tuna!  That's right... purr... purr... purr.  Yes, that's right, I need more tuna... I mean we need more tuna.  Purr... purr... purr.  Good.  Now ke...

 This idea of giving gifts, I'll never understand it.  Dad got Mom some really neat gifts and what does mom do?  She throws them on the floor. Beautiful, sturdy, brand new boxes, laid on the ground!  Shame on you mommy!  Bright shiny paper and gift wrap, also just laid on the floor!  Shame, shame, shame! That's actually not the confusing part.  What I really struggle to understand is dad's reaction.  He's smiling and happy.  I mean, to me, it is obvious mom ain't happy with the gifts since she just slid them on the floor and has been ignoring them ever since.   Yet, instead of being sad and disappointed with the gifts he got, dad seems content and pleased. I really don't understand these humans and their gift giving ideas. Oh well, I guess as long as they are happy, than so am I.  After all I've got brand new paper to tear up and new boxes to sleep in!  I wonder if their gift giving is actually just a way to give me gifts?...

I'm waiting!  That's right I'm waiting.  I'm so excited to show my mum what I've been up to.  Soon she'll walk through that door, walk upstairs, and I'll surprise her by singing Happy Birthday. Though at times, I think dad was losing patience with me.  I mean it's quite easy to confuse the words Happy Birthday with Happy Furday! Either way it's her birthday and I'll sing it the way these humans do it.  But if it was up to me, I'd be shouting from the roof tops, Happy Furday Mummy!!! All I can say is Purr, thank you Mum for loving me. Thank you for the food you bring, and for my squeaky things. Thank you for your friendly talks, and when you change my litter box. Thank you for the naps we share, and putting up with all the hair. Thank you for the things you do, Thank you Momma, I love you.  

 When I lived on the streets for my own safety I usually slept with one eye opened.  I never really had a peaceful, restful sleep.  Between the rain, wind, snow, and humans chasing me away, I never could enjoy a truly peaceful sleep. When I was caught by Cats Protection,  I began sleeping a little better, yet still not totally a restful sleep.  I mean on one side, I had a younger lad who constantly walked on his shelves all night.  I'd start to go to sleep and he'd jump to a lower shelf and on and on it went. I finally decided to fight fire with fire.  I'd wait till he finally settled down about 3:30 in the morning, so I started playing.  I threw all my toys around, even my litter box!  Every morning, my human caretakers would come in and wonder what I did all night.  They'd go about reorganizing my little shelter and by morning I'd have it torn up again. I will say that it has gotten me into a good habit of waking up every morning at 3:...

  I'll say hate!  Mum and Dad laugh and say I'm scared.  That's not true!  Dad picked me up to avoid any conflict.  Look at me!  Do I look scared? Anyway, I'm not scared of anything.  Including spiders!  That's right, I hate spiders.  I am not scared of them - I just hate them. More then once my humans have chased them around the flat.  I was running the other way, just to get out of their way in capturing that critter! I wasn't running away out of fear.  In fact, those spiders are darn lucky I didn't stay and squish them!  Yes, some of them are quite big and I think they'd give me a good fight but I'd win. Though, I'm not scared, I will admit they are scary.  Mum, loves my feet.  My cotton sock feet.  Humans have two feet, I have four.  Do you know how many feet a spider has?  Eight!  Why do they need eight feet?  I mean when they get going they can be really fast.  It is hard getting ou...

In Star Trek: The Next Generation,  the Borg had a comment when conquering other species - resistance is futile! This is my resistance is futile position!  My humans look at me in this position and they start oooing and aaahhing.  They'll get down on their knees and rub my tummy.  Yes, I know, we cats don't like it when our tummy's are rubbed, but I trust my mum and dad so much that they can rub my tummy anytime they want. I can interfere with mum doing paperwork, or folding clothes, or making the bed.  She'll speak sternly to me, Harry!  And I'll roll over on my back, get and oooh and an aaah and then some pets on my tummy. It's a position I never got to enjoy when I was a street cat, and now I do it whenever I can.  It is a very comfortable feeling even if I don't get any pets out of it.  My humans can see me like this and think how innocent I am.  Little do they know!!!  

 Throughout human history, there is a certain sense of royalty when they see a Siamese Cat.  They're nothing special.   I can give that sense of superiority and mystery and pass myself off as a Siamese Cat.   This is my Siamese look, but it always has that look of bewilderment.  Like, when dad grabs a comb!  Why in God's green earth would dad ever need a comb?  It's always my look of sarcasm.  Like when mum wants to clip my toe nails.  Go ahead, just one step closer and I'm out of here. It's also my look of innocence!  I use it when there is a strange smell in the air and I look at dad and say God dad!  Then walk away, knowing full well I am the reason for that smell!!!

On days when dad is home, we do a couple of things that deals with our favorite past time - football.  OK, first let me say that I am an English Cat, so football to me is the sport played around the world. Dad, being an American knows football in another way and calls our sport - soccer.  Well, in his defense he taught me the difference in names, but I have never heard him call it soccer in any conversation.  He has become a proper English person and he calls it - football! Anyway, it is our favorite sport.  When dad moved here he had no idea of the teams, players, or even rivalries.  Before educating himself with the players, he learned about the coaches.  After all, as he would say, it is the coach who represents the team.  And he fell in love with Jurgen Klopp, Liverpool's manager.  Then he learned about the players and he tried to educate me.  I'd listen for a bit, just because I wanted to play ball! We play a miniature version of footbal...

  Dad was adopted into the Cherokee Nation over ten years ago, and he has been teaching me the ways of the Native American Indian. One thing that really got my attention was their belief in power animals and the spirituality they bring into a person's life. It took me just a day on my scratching post to realize that my power animal is the Koala Bear. With the Koala Bear I learned to invite you to relax, to enjoy the moment, and go with the flow of nature.  Koala's are also messengers for physical well-being. Thus Koala meaning often comes to me as a signal to get some much-needed rest. They are known to sleep up to 20 hours a day. When their spirit comes to me, it usually is a sign to catch up on my sleep. Therefore, like my great uncle, the Lion, I need to take a break. Furthermore, I need to find an oasis of calm from the calamity of my daily life. The Koala also invites me to savor my downtime, enjoy my dreams, and revel in relaxation. People with the Koala nee...

 I may not always show it, but I do worry about my mum and dad.  They both work so hard, to not only provide a nice home for them, but also for me. I especially worry about dad.  He goes to work as the sun begins to set and I don't see him until morning. I know from my time on the street that it can be dangerous in the dark.  He doesn't talk that much about his job, probably because he doesn't want me or mum to worry to much. I try to give him a love touch or a good hug before he leaves and most mornings I'll greet him as he enters our flat.  Sometimes, I'm so happy that he is home, that I bring a ping pong ball, so we can play.  Other times I just want to cuddle, so I'll roll on my back and let him rub my tummy. After that, I know he is home and safe and I can go back to sleep.  I can't wait till he retires!!!