Stokely and His Favorite Lump

My apartment is painted white. Ev-er-y-thing is painted white. The walls. The doorknobs. The outlets. Everything. My theory is that every single time someone moves out (they have 6-month leases and month-to-month after that, so I think there's high turnover) they just douse the whole place in another coat of white paint.

Which is why my walls are lumpy. Have you heard of cottage cheese ceilings? That's what my walls are like. There's one lump in particular on the west wall, about three feet high, that drives Stokely absolutely bonkers. Just about every day he launches himself at it repeatedly -- making contact with it for just a fraction of a second before gravity sucks him back down -- until he tires himself out. It's absolutely ridiculous!

One day after watching him do this a few times I picked him up and held him in front of the lump on the wall, trying to give him the opportunity to connect with it the way he seemed to be so desperate to do. He couldn't have cared less! It was like he didn't even recognize the object of his own fixation.

He still jumps at it daily. I don't understand. It's one of hundreds of lumps. But it's his favorite.

Stokely and the New Friend

After too long of staring at my computer screen without being interrupted by Stokely's antics, I got up to go search for him. The apartment is tiny, so there aren't that many hiding places. At first, however, I couldn't find him! Before I could get too worried, I saw him in the kitchen window. But he wasn't alone...

Stokely's new friend

Stokely sat silently fascinated as the squirrel outside chattered away. He didn't sound particularly agressive, so I wondered if he recognized Stokely as a natural enemy or a potential friend. I was surprised Stokely didn't do his trademark "gurgle" (you know that sound cats make when you wake them up by petting them? Stokes does that ALL THE TIME!!!) or meow or otherwise try to communicate. We just watched as the squirrel carried on the conversation for a while longer before continuing up the side of the building.

Up and away he goes!

We sat there for another minute or so, in case the new friend returned. It seemed he had places to go and people to see, however. Perhaps he'll stop by for a visit another day.

Stokely and the Noisy Night

On Wednesday I spent my first full day on campus, soon to be a biweekly occurrence. When I came home, Stokely was beside himself with joy to see me, and was his usual I'm-happy-to-see-you, snuggly self. I, on the other hand, was exhausted and didn't take long to to get ready and crawl into bed.

Not long after the lights went out, it started. The paper bag he likes to hide in rustled. The scratching post that arrived in box from home the day earlier was knocked over, it's rattle ball jingling on the way down. The light thump of a cat jumping onto a forbidden counter top came from the kitchen. Sharp little teeth nibbled on my fingertips. Padded paws ran across my back.

The poor kitten had been home alone all day, napping and dozing and eating and napping some more. He wanted to play! I wanted to sleep. Despite my fatigue, it took about an hour for me to fall into a sleep deep enough to ignore my neglected cat.

Thursday morning, since I didn't have class, I made sure to spend some quality play time with Stokely. I can tell Mondays and Wednesdays are going to be rough for him though! :(

Stokely and the New Litter Box

In my house on the Cape, there was a little closet in the living room that perfectly fit Stokely’s litter box. In Denver, I knew I was moving into a tiny studio apartment. Given Stokely’s messy litter-scattering habits, I had to go for something with steeper sides to have any hope of keeping our new home clean.

What I bought was an obnoxiously large dog-house style litter box. Stokely knew right away that what it was intended for and he used it without hesitation. He then decided to multi-task while he was in there and laid down for a nap. Yes – he snuggled into the litter, put his head on his paws, and closed his eyes. I couldn’t believe it! Part of me was flabbergasted, part of me thought it was adorable, and part of me really didn’t want my cat to constantly be coated with his own poo.

Fortunately, after a few uses it became less appealing for him to doze in, and he has since found plenty more fitting spaces to sleep.

Stokely and the Step Stool

I bought a step stool for the kitchen because my shelves are too high to reach flat-footed on the floor.

I was doubly grateful for the step stool when I discovered that it could be used to block the lower cabinet that Stokely had figured out how to open.

I am happier still because I get to watch Stokely nap under it, hide under it, and attack me from under it. He has always liked small spaces, and with four openings for him to stick his appendages from, what’s not to love?

Isn't he a cutie pie?

Stokely and the Ceiling Fan

The day I moved in, the first thing I did was turn on the ceiling fan so that the apartment could get as cool as possible as fast as possible. The cord clicked when I pulled it, and the blades whirred as they made their rapid revolutions. Stokely heard nothing of this.

After being in the room for perhaps twenty or thirty minutes Stokely must have turned on his back or otherwise looked upwards, because he bolted into the kitchen as if he were escaping the talons of some monstrous creature. From around the slight corner, he sat and simply stared at the ceiling fan – while I doubled over in laughter. Sometimes I think we give cats too much credit for their keen senses…

Stokely and the Toilet Paper

This summer on the Cape, my roommate Paige and I quickly developed a list of reasons to keep the door to the bathroom door closed at all times. Left to his own devices, Stokely could frequently be found drenched from jumping into a yet-to-have-drained bathtub or from falling haphazardly into the toilet. Paige once even caught him peeing in the sink.

The last straw, however, was when I caught him running around with what I thought was a dirty tissue from the bathroom garbage. It turned out to be (clean) toilet paper, which I realized once I noticed that the entire roll had been unwound and dragged out of the bathroom, out of the house, and onto the porch. Not having an unlimited budget to spend on toilet paper at the whim of a kitten, we had a new house rule: keep the bathroom door CLOSED!

I had to spend my first night in Denver in a hotel, since I couldn’t move into the apartment until September 1st. It was a nice room, but it had a weird bathroom door that slid into the wall, so I didn’t think to close it right away. Sure enough, Stokely soon gave me reason to, as evidenced by this photo:

I can only imagine what the hotel’s housekeeping staff thought when they saw half of the toilet paper unrolled on the floor.