Thursday, November 21, 2013

3800 Jasper and the calendar

Thursday, November 21, 2013

Jasper gets dry cat food all week.  I try to buy food for him that's urinary tract friendly.  I don't especially like the idea of feeding him dry food, but I think it's better for his teeth.  Of course mice, chipmunks, and birds would be better for him all around, crunching the bones is the best thing for his teeth, but he has to kill them himself or he doesn't recognize it as food.

That's weird - that he does recognize unmoving kibbles in a bowl as food, but does not recognize a dead bird (a raw chicken wing, for example) as food.  Especially weird since he was living on his own, feral, when I caught him.  On the other hand, his "hunting" back then consisted of being cute in the parking lot of a long-term hotel, his prey being luncheon meat and cheese caged from lonely businessmen.

He gets canned food on Sunday mornings.  Sunday treat.  The little Fancy Feast fish flavors.

What amazes me is that he always knows when it's Sunday.

Back when I was working and had to be up by a certain time every day, my cat companion would always wake me at that time.  Very handy if I'd forgotten to set the alarm or something.  I haven't been working since long before I got Jasper, so he doesn't wake me.  When I finally do get up, he follows me around until I go downstairs, then he politely reminds me that it's time to feed him, and doesn't mind waiting a bit, because there are always crumbs left in the bowl anyway.

Except on Sundays.  On Sunday mornings when we get downstairs he wraps himself around my legs, and yells loudly NOW! NOW! NOW! (his meows sound just like that) and frantically leads and pushes me to the cabinet, cutting off my attempts to escape, until there's Fancy Feast in the bowl.

How does he know it's Sunday?  There are no churches near here, no bells.  No neighbors loading up the car to go to church.  I'm normally up by 7 or 8 am, so I'd notice. There's nothing different from Saturday.

Ahah!  I thought two weeks ago that I had figured it out.  I watch "Sunday Morning" on CBS at 9 am, so on Sunday I turn the TV on as soon as I go downstairs.  Sunday is the only day I turn the TV on in the morning.  That's his clue!

Last Sunday I slept in. I've been sleeping late a lot lately, since my doctor put me on a powerful decongestant for my sinuses.  Sunday, I didn't wake until after 10, and then only because he was jumping on my legs and yelling NOW! NOW! NOW!  I thought the freakin' house was on fire!

He never wakes me.  How did he know it was Sunday?

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