He’s A Feline.

Caturday.

Truman’s day is not complete unless he can spend a few moments inspecting the hallway. There’s some sort of rule in our building that all the cats meow at the front door at precisely 8:00 AM. Truman does this and according to our neighbors their cats do it too. Both adjacent to our unit and above our unit.

Truman settles down by 9:00 AM everyday.

Interestingly, the meowing at the front door is only during the week. He spends his weekend mornings meowing at our bedroom door. A few weeks ago we swapped out the door handle so he couldn’t pull down on it anymore.

He’s such a cat.

Truman has me trained well: clean out the litter box, put it into a small garbage bag, take it to the trash chute, and let him walk the hallways while I’m walking back and forth to finish my human duties.

I wouldn’t have him any other way.

Innocence.

Truman has been a bit wild today. During my lunch break he decided to completely rearrange the cushions on the couch and make himself a nice little fort. He then proceeded to pull pillows out of the cushions.

By the way, my grandmother had a different name for the couch or sofa. She called it “the Davenport”. It always sounded so regal to me.

I think Truman was sensing the changes in barometric pressure as the latest storm system moved in. I poked fun at meteorologists on Twitter this morning because they’ve been screeching and hooting and hollering about the incoming snow storm but one change of so many inches and the predicted foot of snow becomes an inch of snow.

Let’s face it, Mother Nature will do what she wants to do and that’s all there is to it.

And Truman will do the same.

Attentive.

Over the past couple of weeks I’ve noticed the television has captured Truman’s attention while he is resting on the couch. He particular likes watching golf; his eyes widen and dart around as the ball moves around.

Apparently he also enjoys watching an XFL game with his Papa and Daddy Bears.

Annual.

Truman hasn’t quite got the concept of a selfie yet. You’ll notice my husband’s hand near the camera; he was snapping his fingers trying to get our feline family member to face the camera as I snapped a selfie of the three of us. Truman wanted to sniff my ear.

Then he wanted to look at my husband’s ear.

We were trying to take a selfie with Truman today because it was one year ago today that this guy joined our home. Technically, 3/4 of him joined our home because he is a bit bigger than he was a year ago. The vet didn’t scold us but she did suggest Truman might want to cut back on the treats a bit, as he’s a solid 16.25 lbs of pure feline. In reality, the entire family could probably stand to cut back on the treats a bit. It’s a theme throughout the house, the years, and the decades. Welcome to the club.

I mentioned to Earl that it feels like Truman found his real rhythm just before the holidays. He adapted quickly but he didn’t really find his groove, or perhaps we didn’t really understand his groove, until last fall.

Today the purrs are loud and the meows demand attention. He’s apparently, we’re apparently happy, and all is good with our happy little feline family member.

We skipped the celebration cake due to calories.

Chill.

Truman was mostly chilled out at the vet today. It was his annual checkup and shots and he did just fine. He’s gained some weight and we have to watch the kitty calories (don’t we all!) but otherwise he’s in good shape and a healthy three year old.

He’s asked me not discuss the numbers from the scale. Just keep the kibble coming. And treats.

Upside Down.

Truman really enjoys looking at me from an upside down vantage point. I’m not sure if he finds me more compelling this way or what but whenever he has the chance he likes to look at me upside down.

Cautious.

Truman is adjusting to the relocation of his cat tree to accommodate one of three Christmas trees in our home this year. He has batted at the bottom row of branches and has climbed up as far as the second from the bottom row of branches. So far he has not bothered any of the ornaments. The styrofoam and other less fragile ornaments are along the bottom of the tree.

Since this is Truman’s first holiday season living with us we’re not sure how he’s going to be around all the extra merriment. We have a couple of long weekends away coming up, so the big Christmas tree won’t go up for another two weeks. The smaller trees will help us gauge how he’s going to react.

It’s good to ease him into the change. Actually, it’s good to ease us into the change. We all know he runs the roost.

Boop.

Truman isn’t a particularly cuddly cat. He has his own way of ritualizing his expressions of appreciation: every morning when I come out of the bedroom to great him he stands on his back paws and leans his front paws against my waist, without claws, but as if I was a scratching post. When I walk from my home office to the kitchen he jumps out from behind something and plants both paws against my leg and then runs, as if to say, “c’mon Dad, let’s play!”

Once in a while he’ll have his moments where he’ll give me a boop or a nudge to let me know he cares.

But pick him up? Nah, that’ll be four treats for five seconds, please.

Routines.

I think Truman is starting to get used to the concept of the weekend. During the work week he’s usually stationed outside the bedroom door, ready to stretch against my waist and then demanding a couple of treats before I go for a walk. On the weekend he makes a bit of a ruckus for a few moments around the same time and then settles down; he starts to complain about the schedule change around 8:00 a.m. As long as he gets his treats, he’s fine.

I know most of my feline friends over the years have enjoyed a predictable schedule, but Truman is the closest adherent to the clock I’ve met thus far.

His automatic feeder gives him a light midnight snack at 10:00 p.m. He stations himself next to the feeder at 9:30 p.m. every night. On the dot.

I wonder what he would have been like with the audible sounds of the old school clock system we had in the old house. Earl says he’s just tuned like Pavlov’s dog, but I’m thinking he’s just a wise cat.

Caturday.

Truman has settled in nicely over the past 6 1/2 months. He has a routine and he’s gotten used to the fact that weekends are not the same as weekdays. He’s not a super cuddler, he prefers to be near you rather than on you. He’s also the first cat I’ve known to show a complete disregard for the human between point A and point Z; for example, while traversing from a spot on the floor to the spot on the couch, he’ll use me or Earl as a stepping stone just as if we were a cat tree, a coffee table, or a chair. He doesn’t care if we’re napping on the couch. I’ve been startled more than once by him jumping from the floor directly onto my stomach while making his way to a his favorite spot on the couch. This is startling. I’ve learned not to drop a string of curse words at him. He doesn’t care about curse words anyway.

I am slightly concerned about his weight and we do our best to keep the treats and feedings under control. His feeder measures his food in “paddles” and we reduced his feedings by one paddle per meal. He has gained 1 1/2 pounds since moving in with us. We have a lot of playtime to keep him active.

He can be feisty.