Saturday, January 23, 2010

The Ginger Diaries: A four legged's pal's mission to thwart my Irish Dance stardom!

Hello again everyone. Happy 2010!

Now I’d like to introduce you to a very special member of my household..

Meet Oliver

*holds a few seconds for a collective “awww”: 5, 4, 3, 2…*

Ok,now that you have that out of your system…

Oliver is the "family" cat that lives at my parents’ house. I certainly wouldn’t want to claim sole ownership of the cute yet incorrigible little fuzzball.

I travel to and stay my parents house to attend dance class on the weekends, as I live an hour away from one of my school’s locations. Oliver only has to tolerate me on the weekends.

Oliver is not a people person. He’s not a mean or outwardly vicious cat; he’s just a cat with a fierce independence streak. Oliver doesn't sit in laps, nor does he really like to be pet or loved by people (The only person he really adores in the family is one of my brothers, the middle child). He’s quite content to find a hiding place in the house or claim ownership to any bed he fancies, much like Goldilocks. He then will give you annoyed look if you try, to say sleep in your own bed, when he’s occupying it, much like this:

Oliver and I are like oil and vinegar. I tend to “love him up” a tad too much. An extra hug here or there really ruffles his feathers. He only goes into my room for my bed, since I’m not there most of the time, or to look out the window to dream of being a free cat in the great outdoors.

"Please, someone... anyone.. let me outta here!!!!"

For the most part, he avoids me like the plague and trots very quickly away from me if I’m in his general direction (thanks to my affinity for forehead kisses).. except in one special situation ;)

The basement in the house is his domain. It houses all of his basic needs (food, restroom, toys) plus oodles of hiding spaces. The only place he really wants to “play” is in the basement, which unfortunately for me, is the only place I can practice when I’m here on the weekend.

The fact that I’m occupying his basement whilst practicing makes Oliver think that I’m there to cater to his every whim; I can’t very well shut him out of his “room”, so practicing becomes somewhat of a challenge, as I’d like to illustrate below.

Picture this: It’s a cold January evening and a fire has been set at the hearth.

Hmm, does anyone see Oliver basking in the glow of the flames?!?

Well… maybe he’s enjoying the peace and solitude of his personal kitty bed in the kitchen?

Nope! He must be on the move, maybe hiding under a bed or near a heat register… I guess I’m in the clear to practice!

I did have my camera running during a few test trebles. Usually this gets him running into the basement from wherever he may be lurking. Unfortunately, like most animals, they don't do something when you want to catch them in the act.

However, just a mere 10 seconds later, a certain someone appeared, trying to lure me into playing by showing some affection, instead of practicing my hornpipe drills!

Please excuse the nasally Northern voice. (Anyone want to hazard a guess at where exactly I'm from based on my accent?) You never really know how horrible you sound till you get it on camera! *mucho embarrassing*

So, being a dedicated dancer, I continued my quest to get some work done by ignoring my practicing "buddy"...

As you will see below, Oliver stalks in the background during my practice sessions, usually looking pathetically at his favorite little orange ball and then glancing longingly at me, hoping against hope that I will stop my work and play a little game of fetch. He is also fascinated with the mirror that I have in front of my singular floorboard to practice. He has come dangerously close to knocking the whole thing over.

Anytime I stop to: think about what I want to work on next, have a sip of water, or change music from my hornpipe to my set, he will come up and rub against my legs to attract my attention. Yes, this is the same feline that runs away from me at any other opportunity.

In the clip below, he also manages to knock over the camera…he’s lucky it just fell back on the chair:

I really hope my TC's don't find this.. sorry about the arms and hand, it was for demo purposes only ;) :-x *nervous giggle*

So in the end, I really do think that deep down, Oliver has a secret evil plan to make sure I can never get a good practice session done when I’m at home. Thanks to my little fuzzy friend, it’s a pretty safe bet I’ll never be the next Michael Flatley ;)

Maybe he’d be a little nicer to me if I didn’t do things like THIS:

Don't you wish your pets had thought bubbles? I'm not sure I'd like to know what he's thinking anyway ;)

Until next time, keep jiggin'!


Read Colleen's February post here! Or check out her intro here!