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Caturday Pootie Diary: Summer Hibernation [1]
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Date: 2023-05-20
The backdoor was open letting in a nice spring breeze. Birds were chirping and lizards were sunning themselves on the back wall. It was a lovely day, though a little on the warm side.
“Shoot!” I muttered, and walked into the living room.
Freddie was curled up on the couch, asleep and ignoring my every entreaty.
“It’s not summer yet!” I said, pointing at him.
Freddie is unique among all the cats with whom I’ve ever shared a space, in that he retreats as soon as the temperature goes up. Hibernates like a bear. Well, a bear who still expects regular meals, anyway. He spends his time during the warm weather sleeping on the couch in the living room. We’ve even covered it with a sheet to keep his hair from becoming permanently embedded in the cushions.
During that period he wants no petting, no cuddles, no baby talk. He will hear no silly songs about his fur or whiskers, and he will not drape himself across my lap and legs. He will accept treats, but goes back to his summer location as soon as I stop dispensing them.
But it wasn’t summer yet!
I touched him on his sweet little furry head, and he startled awake with a little chirp.
“It’s not summer yet,” I said again.
He yawned and stretched in place, his limbs shaking with his effort. “I don’t know what that means,” he said finally.
“You can’t sleep in here yet!”
He closed his eyes and lowered his head to his paws.
I picked him up.
Freddie squawked in displeasure, but didn’t fight me as I carried him to my spot in the family room. I set him down on the couch next to me and kept a hand on him while I reclined the seat.
I patted my thigh. “Come sit with me,” I implored.
He considered it.
“I think I’d rather sleep in the other room,” he said.
“Why?”
He shrugged, then twisted to urgently groom the middle of his spine. He turned back to me. “What were we talking about?”
“You were getting on my lap for a nap,” I said, slyly.
“Oh, okay,” he said, and climbed on me.
I knew I couldn’t move. He’d leave if I did.
My left foot was asleep. I needed the restroom. I was a little thirsty, and my bottle was empty. I could feel sweat at my hairline.
It really was too hot for this.
I didn’t mind the discomfort too much, however. It’s always worth it to get a little Freddie time.
But my left foot was starting to hurt.
I just needed to bend my knee, just a little, to relieve it.
With the caution of a master thief navigating laser alarms, I slowly, ever so slowly, bent my knee toward my body. The relief in my foot was instant.
As was Freddie, waking up and jumping to the ground.
I swore.
I stood over him, hands on my hips. Freddie was asleep in his summer spot, a small, contented feline smile on his face.
I felt no guilt about disturbing that contentment.
Once again, I scooped him up. He allowed it, but the second I set him down again, he took off, running away from me at top speed.
“Come back!” I begged.
“No!” he shot back over his shoulder.
“It’s not summer yet!”
“I don’t know why you keep saying that!”
This time instead of the couch where he hibernates, Freddie ran to the top of his kitty condo. His weight caused it to shift and slam into the wall as he hit the top of it. “You’re going to go through the wall one day,” I said, as I always did.
He rolled into a ball, and twisted himself into a half-summersault. I tried to pet him, but got scratched for my efforts.
I picked up his favorite catnip toy that I had tied to a ribbon so we could play without drawing blood. “It’s still Spring,” I told him. “So we can play.”
“Give it to me,” he demanded, eyeing the cheerful quilted and stuffed heart.
I danced the toy in front of his face and let him bat at it for a while. He quickly got bored and curled up in the bed, ready for a nap.
“Come back and sleep next to me,” I said.
“It’s too hot for that,” he said, closing his eyes.
“It’s not summer yet!”
At some point, Freddie left the condo and went back to his spot on the couch in front of the cold fireplace. I knew this because I found myself, once again, standing over him considering whether or not to move him. “It’s not summer,” I murmured, sadly.
I gently stroked his head, delighting in his happy response. He opened his eyes and blinked deliberately up at me. “Come hang out with me,” I said for the third or fourth time that afternoon.
“Maybe later,” he said, closing his eyes again.
I plucked my phone from my pocket and opened the weather app. “It looks like it’s going to cool off next week,” I announced.
He snored softly.
“See you next week,” I whispered.
Happy Caturday, Peeps! This one is probably just a quirk of Freddie’s and not so much general cat behavior. When the weather warms, Freddie seeks out his solitude. It feels like it’s come earlier this year.
[END]
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