Today’s post comes from Anna.
We recently adopted a cat. Or at least we took her into our house and are feeding her and attempting to keep her entertained. She has adopted our daughter, but is not at all sure about the dog and thinks the guinea pig should either be food or a toy (but she can’t get to him, so is frustrated). She will demand affection from the other two humans as well, but Daughter is the clear favorite. Like many kitties, our little tuxedo cat is full of sass. She is as likely to chew on your feet as curl up next to you purring and will chase a laser pointer in circles and up the wall until your finger cramps from holding the pointer.
She is also an escape artist. Young, not-yet-spayed cat + spring time = cat who really wants to be outside. The first time she got out we didn’t even see it happen – we thought we had heard her indoors, but she showed up a couple days later, strolling in from the back yard with the dog as if it were expected that the cat would be outside at 5:30 am. She recently got out again, but this time I saw her mad dash – in fact, I was anticipating the mad dash and still couldn’t prevent it.
Our dog, bless him, is old and blind, so it can take a bit for him to navigate up the back steps and into the house. I knew not to open the door until the last possible moment to let him back in (this sometimes means he runs into the partially open door before figuring out where the opening is) to minimize the cat escape opportunities. Cat had been lying in wait, occasionally going to the door and meowing plaintively, clearly feeling it was unfair that the abhorred canine got to go outside but she did not. As soon as the door opened, even with me attempting to block her route, out she zoomed to freedom. She led me on a fine game of tag around the perimeter of the house and then made off for parts west (across the street) where I lost sight of her. After an overnight in the wilds of South Minneapolis, she is back in the house acting as though it is our fault she is hungry and a bit dirty.
Prior to her walkabouts outside, she had mastered the fine art of hiding in the most out-of-the-way spots in the basement. She also thought that hiding between the dining room curtains and the windows was a fine bit of camouflage, but it was much easier to spot her silhouette there and she always seemed indignant that I had uncovered her coveted lair-on-the-window-ledge.
In fairness, she was a stray before we took her in; a friend-of-a-friend found her hanging around their hobby farm and brought her in from the cold. A move to the big city is not going to immediately tame that touch of wildness, nor dampen her desire to return to the great outdoors (if only temporarily). I can only hope that once we have her spayed that this instinct is at least reduced. (See above comment regarding hawks. And possibly a fox.)
It’s a pity that a Go Pro camera would weigh as much or more than she does – it would be an interesting exercise to strap one on her and see where she goes.
Where do you go when you want to escape daily life?
Trail Baboon 
I lead a quiet life…and for the most part escape by awakening early to have coffee in my favorite room facing the little cove-windowed around the three lake walls. Husband is a late sleeper.
My other escape where no one ever bothers me is my studio just down a wooded walkway.
I am fortunate to have escape so nearby…’tho daily life always comes, welcome or not, as my escape is here at home.
Tomorrow we go to daughters in KC…that will be a true escape.
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What kind of studio do you have, slilyss? Sounds divine.
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I’ve a little log cabin-guest cabin ’til I took over. Recently had husband put the log bunk bed back inside-reconstruct. Haven’t figured out just how to use my “new” space so doing a lot of avoidance…but nice weather is upon us and that will bring renewed energy to tackle and purge! I’ll post a pic…if I can figure out how….
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The best I could do was change my “pic”…so you will need to tap it to see a larger size…
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That’s what I would call a creative solution to posting a photo on the blog, slilyss. That looks like one sweet little spot to retreat to. Good for you.
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Nice picture: hostas, cat, cabin. Looks like a good place to hang out.
The secret to posting pictures is to offer a link to a site where the picture lives on the internet. If a photo is not on the net, you can’t link to it. But if you use a photo sharing site (smugmug, Shutterfly, flickr) you can link to a photo you put there.
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Ahem, that looks like a little dog to me.
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Steve…Jane is correct…Bandit is my rescue mutt…one of those “I rescued him & he rescued me-times” pet.
Hostas were transplant gifts from my dear neighbor across the lake. I’d never had and liked the way they filled in shaded area…didn’t know they would take over and be such obstinate inhabitants…won’t move, seperate or leave.
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Don’t count too much on surgery to cutb her wanderlust.
The deliquents both zip out the door any chance they get, but are domesticated enough to come in if I ding the supper dish with a spoon or sing the “suppertime for kitties” song. (Pro-tip, this only works because they know there will ALWAYS be food as a result, they’re not stupid).
I do let them out when I’m out or sometimes for a little while before breakfast, just so the house can remain standing.
I cannot remember the last actual trip I took (obligatory drives to Iowa do not count), but feel very blessed to live in a major metro area with a lot of little nooks and crannies of “wild” space: Crosby Farm, Hidden Falls (which must be well hidden as I have never seen them), Minnehaha…..
Need to get back in shape so I can bike over to Irvine Park, but please don’t tell anyone…
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My secret word for getting them home from any distance is “TREAT”
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OT – Update on Krista’s situation.
Still no closing, she’s hoping for Friday. However, here’s an update on the rest of it, in Krista’s own words: “I got really pushy and demanding yesterday and told my realtor that if I wasn’t allowed to access the new home i would go in anyway. She got the seller’s agent to write up a move-in agreement. My brother and my friend helped me get the furniture off the truck last evening and we returned the truck. We also got one large load out of the storage unit. So, I’m sitting in my recliner in my new home this a.m. I slept great last night.”
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Thank goodness!
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I have only a downer answer for this. Sorry to not contribute to this excellent post.
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I tend to go out to the barn and hang out with the beasties…or, escape into a Netflix mystery. Sometimes going to town is a nice escape from duties I don’t want to do at home….lunch (or “fika”) with friends also is a welcome escape.
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Great post, Anna. So glad she came back, and who knows, perhaps she’ll be turning you into a kitty grandma in the not too distant future. 🙂 If she does, do not be lulled into the misconception that you’re now safe from another pregnancy in the immediate future. Many years ago we had a cat who got pregnant before we could have her spayed, and within a month of giving birth to four lovely kittens, she was pregnant again.Taught us a valuable lesson.
My need for escaping daily life has greatly diminished these last few years. Because there are only two of us in this household, we can move about pretty independently, and we do. Hans is a social butterfly and has a much greater need to visit with friends on a daily basis than I do. So while he’s taking care of that need, I can putter around by myself and do whatever I feel like doing. I’m not a recluse by any means, but I do enjoy my solitude. I have no need for constant activity and noise.
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She goes under the knife later today. Vet has assured me that if ahe did manage to meet a feline Romeo during her wanderings, she can still have the surgery (phew). I may be telling Daughter a few white lies about new kitten possibilities…
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Funny that you should say that, Anna. Just last night, Hans and I were talking about our misconceptions, when we were younger, about sex and how women become pregnant. He told me that he had heard the expression “hun kom galt afsted,” a somewhat dated (I hope?) Danish term that was used to describe someone who had gotten pregnant out of wedlock. Literally translated “she had an accident.” We both admitted that considering all the rigmarole involved in having intercourse, taking off your clothes – at least some of them – and all the rest of it, both of us had reached the conclusion that there had to be another way that they weren’t telling us about. I remember my first French kiss – at the age of sixteen – and thinking, that’s it, that’s the way they’re not telling us about. I brushed my teeth extra thoroughly day night, and gargled with anticeptic, and I still was worried until I got my period that I had become pregnant. At sixteen! Sheesh.
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My mother called it “an accident.”
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so brushing your teeth works?
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We adopted a cat and had to wait for the surgery, which included removal of three fetuses. It turned into a sex ed moment with our kids.
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I hope the patient is recovering well.
She looks a bit like my Sammy, but he has a black nose and white chin. He also has the asymmetrical white around the nose, but slanting to the opposite side. I have a credit card with a picture of a cat that looks very much like him. Store clerks always ask me about it. “Ohhhh…is this your cat?”
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I always found my imagination an excellent escape, especially when stimulated by a good book. I spent as much time in Middle-Earth, Earthsea, and similar locales as I did in reality as a kid, perhaps more. I’m not sure how often I get entirely out of my own head, even now.
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I’m very blessed to have a 25-year old lake swing on which I gently swing while sipping a glass (or two) of cheap box wine.
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if yo can get into the wine stores in civilazation the black box which used to be 25 a box is on sale in the haskels and the wine big box for 15.99. good wine too.
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I’ll make one OT comment: a piece of string is partly buried in the ground outside my window. Three different robins have worked very hard at pulling it out. Nest-building season!
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Now they are fighting over it.
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I saw a cute video yesterday of a sparrow picking off hair from a sleeping dog.
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In Spring Wind Greg Brown says, “I know I say that all the time/like everything else I say.” Which is my little apology for repeating myself.
I mostly feel no need to escape. Like Crow Girl, when I do escape it is into my head. Specifically, when I need to travel I open one of the vault doors of memory and take a stroll through the past.
It is cheaper than other forms of travel, and the walking’s easier. Which I say all the time, like everything else I say.
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Sandy’s escape is to sleep many hours a day.
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There aren’t many escapes that are as healthy as that.
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Morning all. My studio is a great escape for me. When I’m making cards or working on some other project, it is very relaxing. Part of my brain goes to the crafting but the rest just lays down and relaxes. I also have a swing in the back corner of my yard, in the shade. In the summer that’s my go-to place with a glass of lemonade and a book!
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My back yard (I am REALLY going to miss this yard), or a bookstore. More later.
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I take to my bed with mystery novels and good things to eat.
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Anna, I’m so glad the kitty came back at any rate.
I have been known to escape into a glass of wine or two, on occasion. I try to be careful not to do it too often.
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When I was around 24, I drank too much at a party. The room was spinning and the nausea made me throw up. Since I have a phobia about ever throwing up, even with food poisoning, I made a decision that next day that I’d never ever drink enough to have such an awful result. I decided to allow myself two glasses of wine at 4PM daily (not 3:55 and no more than two). To this day, I’ve followed this rule. I never drink when I’m out dancing, so many have asked; “Don’t you drink?”. My answer is; “Yes, but only at home alone”.
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I gotta run. We’re having a Derby Day party at my company – hoping to score a nice cool mint julep! Everyone in my department made hats for the occasion – maybe I could get a blog out of it!
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Saw your group photo on Facebook; some very fine hats and outfits. Looks like a fun party.
We go to a Derby party on Saturday, complete with fancy outfits and hats, lots of good food, but no mint juleps. We do have a wonderfully creative, home-made trophy for whoever wins the the prize. We each fill out a sheet for ranking the order in which the horses will finish, and whoever scores the highest wins the pot (about thirty bucks) and gets the trophy. The tabulation of the winner has proven somewhat tricky, especially after the tabulators have had a beer or a couple of glasses of wine. Good times.
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I am the queen of cat ladies! I declaw the front and collar them with two bells along with their name tags. Believe it or not, I’ve seen several of mine charge up a tree if a dog comes by – their back claws are enough – and they rarely catch critters. Except for chipmunks who are really dumb and really slow.
I’m down from 4-5 to only a 5-year old and a 13-year old. The sad thing for me is realizing that getting a new one wouldn’t be fair because it’d likely outlive me.
Many years ago, I adopted “catlady” for my user name. I sent out many emails and never got a response. Feeling hurt, I eventually called the recipients to ask why they didn’t respond. It was because “catlady” sounded like porn to them. I then changed it to crystalbay since I live in a cottage on Crystal Bay
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I thought you were “dancing grandma.” Also, there are plenty of older cats to adopt in various shelters.
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I’m only the dancing grandma in the western burbs, not on email
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A walk in the woods would be a top choice for escaping from the world for me. A short term escape is sudoku.
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I go to bed. Lately I’ve had the best dreams. The ones where I’m floating above the craziness.
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My wife had surgery in two weeks. My daughter has surgery two days later.
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in my prayers
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Will be thinking of you, Sandy and your daughter. Hope both have smooth surgeries and speedy recoveries.
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my current escape is the hot tub.
used to be at the health club the executive triathelon … whirl pool, sauna and steam room
i can reax most anwhere but my version of relaxing is not for everyone. i like to cook to do art to surf the internet to play guitar and piano and sing by myself or with others. i can curl up with a movie anytime. or a book . a canvas and a box of paints or more simply a box of crayons sitting on the new patio off the bedroom overlooking the little pond out back is gonna be good.
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A little pond is a nice thing to have. For those of us without natural water features close at hand, a birdbath is an option.
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OT – For Twin Cities baboons with some free time these next few days, I highly recommend seeing Penumbra Theater’s production of Sunset Baby. It’s excellent. A powerful play, and three wonderful actors. I believe the run in just four more shows.
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