Speaking Of Beasts...

...it’s been a while since I posted anything about the cats.  This is Bingley, aka “Bingbat.”  A classic literary name (from Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice) spoiled, but the nickname fits him.  He's slightly over twelve pounds of goofy part-Maine-coon fluff, as far as we can tell.  Yes, both of our current cats are male, but this pink bed originally belonged to our prior female cat, and it makes me very happy to see the boys using it.  Bingley in particular loves this bed, which sits on the desk to the right of the big computer in our office.

Catly bliss

He’s an interesting critter.  Most of his eccentricities stem from the fact that he gets along extremely well with the dog, to the point where we wonder sometimes if he actually understands that he’s a cat. Case in point: he begs for food whenever the dog does, no matter what she’s begging for.  Despite the fact that cats are obligate carnivores, he has been known to eat small pieces of goldfish crackers, chips and bread and he absolutely LOVES marshmallows.  He materializes underfoot every time the marshmallow bag is opened, yowling his fool head off for a treat.  Go figure. Like I said, he’s a weird cat.

Not a great picture but that white thing is a marshmallow.  Now a very ex-marshmallow.

He also serves as the the dog’s alarm system, I kid you not!  There’s a Christmas bell hanging from the doorknob on the inside of the back door, which she gently rings with her nose when she wants to be let out. (No dumb on her...it took her about thirty seconds to learn that trick.) Bingley, from his favorite cat perch near the door, watches this with interest.  When he sees her return to the back door through the glass, he meows persistently and loudly until we let her in.  She doesn’t even need to ‘knock’ anymore.

The perch overlooking the door

Bingley’s buddy Darcy (and supposed littermate, although they look nothing alike) on the other hand, has absolutely no doubt that he’s a cat.  He turns his nose up at everything that isn’t either meat or cat kibble, and peacefully coexists with the dog but that’s about it.  Try giving him a bit of marshmallow and he will give you a look of disdain that could curl your eyelashes!  All he wants is a warm spot in which to sleep, which often results in his full thirteen pounds of weight landing solidly on my chest at about 4AM.

"Who, me...disturb your sleep??"

His new habit is crawling under the quilt on our bed (after he wakes me up) and rolling himself up like a sausage.  

He's lucky he's so cute.

We adopted them together from a shelter when they were about three months old.  They are close to eighteen months old now, so pretty much full-size.  We actually met the shelter volunteer who trapped them in a barn as tiny kittens, and she said she trapped them together on the same day, so maybe they are actually brothers, although for all I know there was more than one litter in the barn at the time.  They have been together all their lives, anyway, and get along very well.  They certainly provide us with hours of entertainment, too!   Lively little critters.

Next up, the dog!!