Fluff-man is one of my current three fur children. We adopted the others out (we HAD eleven) when we decided to move country from Morocco to Panama, but these three got to make the trip, for which I am still unsure of they are grateful. His name is Fluff-man because Fluffy sounded too feminine even for a fluffy, soft-and-silky-furred lover boy.
Fluff, like most other living creatures, has a few quirks. One of them is his INSISTENCE on swimming before he drinks water. I think this is a hold-over from Morocco, where he was born. The water in that part of Morocco is mineral water and FULL of minerals, at that. It makes a skim of minerals on the top of water if you let a bowl of it sit. Sugar Daddy, another lover boy, used to stick his paw in the water to break the skim of minerals before he would drink, but Fluff trumped him. When Fluff approaches a bowl of water, he vigorously makes swimming, pawing motions outside the water bowl, sometimes for quite some time – and THEN he drinks. He has not disturbed the water, but he’s energetically cleaned the floor around the bowl. Meh.
Fluff also wants to come during the night and get mommy loving. See, I try not to use the air conditioning here in Panama. Usually, in the evening, there is a nice breeze off our mountain, flowing over the house out to sea. So, I prefer to leave the door open to my bedroom so the breeze passes through, nicely cooling things off. And here comes Fluff for a petting session. He jumps up on the bed, tromps across my abdomen- OOFF!! – and settles on my chest, putting his wet nose right under my chin, and then he energetically begins making bread on my neck/adam’s apple. Depending on how well I/he is sleeping, this can happen three or four times a night. Mommy has to work, so I end up closing the door.
Mommy is newly arrived in Panama, and has not purchased an alarm clock. I don’t need one, since I have an alarm function on my cellular phone which works just fine – until phone meets Fluff-man. Sometimes when Fluff comes to get his loving, the mosquito net is situated just so, such that he can’t figure out where the opening is in order to get inside it and to me – dispenser of cuddles. So, he sits on my nightstand, and amuses himself inspecting, and playing with, whatever I have put there prior to retiring. Like the cell phone. He nearly always knocks it off the table at JUST the right angle so that when it hits the floor, the back pops off and the battery pops out. This means I have to GET UP, FIND MY GLASSES IN THE DARK, and go to the bathroom where I can consult the wall clock to reassemble the phone with the battery, start it up and re-program the time and date to that the alarm will go off in a few hours to get me up in time to catch my ride to work.
The cat can be grateful that I love him. Especially after the fourth time this week. He’d actually make a pretty nice little RUG………