Mnstf and Ninja

[lydy]

So, we had agreed to host a Mnstf meeting last Saturday, well before Lady Jane came to stay with us. What with one thing and another, we decided to go ahead with it, and just warn people that the usual cat-free zone was not, in fact, cat-free. In preparation for this, I opened up the doors between the free zone and the unfree zone, to encourage the fraternization of the prisoners...I mean cats.

So, we're not really very good housekeepers, which means that hosting a meeting means that there's a lot of housecleaning to be done. Ok, then, go. Clean! With cats! Although the plan was to restrict all the cats, including Lady Jane Grey, to the back of the house during the party, in the run up, we were leaving all the doors open, to give everybody space to find their own level. That...went better than it could, although it had its problems. I had no idea that Nuit could be such an asshole. She was just horrible to Lady Jane Grey, in a very Minnesotan sort of, "Hey, I'm just walkin' here" sort of way. Provocatively passive aggressive. Ok, then.

I came home Friday, did a bit of cleaning, and then went to bed, intending to get up and Clean All The Things that hadn't yet been cleaned. While I was asleep, Pamela's mother showed up, based on a scheduling error. Whatever. However, by the time I woke up, it had developed that Ninja was nowhere to be found. After the house had been scoured top to bottom, Pamela was left with the conclusion that somehow, while talking to her mother about the scheduling mix-up, Ninja had managed to sneak past both of them, into the world outside.

Ninja is probably the happiest cat I have ever met. He's funny, cheerful, and friendly. When he was a kitten, he tried to make friends with the upstairs cats by taking them toys. He's sweet, endearing, and has no sense of self-preservation. He's hugely curious, but also completely convinced that the entire universe is one great, big, shiny toy, just for him. Ninja wouldn't think to run away from a dog or a Mack truck. He'd rush towards same, offering to play. No sense of self-preservation.

So, in between trying to clean for the Mnstf meeting, we are, all of us, going outside to see if we can find my funny, idiot cat. Calling his name. Setting out food. Searching the house again, because really, maybe just maybe. Nope. Nope. Nope. Dusting, vacuuming, rearranging furniture, another trip outside, more cleaning, mopping, etc. Most of it in the front rooms. But no Ninja. I go to bed in tears. Pamela doesn't sleep, and has waking nightmares of a life without Ninja.

I woke up early on Saturday, and after dicking around for an hour, I realize there is no way I'm getting back to sleep, so I decide to get dressed, look for Ninja, and then get coffee and breakfast. I have given up hope of finding my cat. I'm thinking of making a bunch of those sad, futile posters that say, "Lost Cat," knowing that they almost never work. Wondering if I'll find him dead by the side of the road, or if he's found new people who will love him, and I'll never know. If he's been eaten by a raccoon, or taken a ride under the hood of a car.

I go into the living room to get my coat. It was fucking cold on Saturday morning. I hear a cat noise. I can't tell where it's coming from. Thinking that, perhaps, Lady Jane and Nuit are at it again, I go into the media room. Nope, no cats there. Go back into the living room. Another cat noise. "Ninja?" I call. Loud cat noises, then a persistent, extremely loud yowering. I look around.

We have three seven foot tall, oak book cases in the living room. They meet at right angles, and there is a square gap at the corner where they meet, about a foot square. This is literally the only place that Ninja can be. And my, but he's loud.

I wake David up from a very sound sleep, and we removed about half the books, which enables David to move the book case. Ninja comes right out. He's still a bit frantic and wild. I move him to the back of the house, where his sister comes up and inspects him. He then promptly tries to get back into the allegedly cat-free zone.

I picked him up, and he was delightfully cuddly for a little bit, bashing my cheek with his head. In general, he was glad to be rescued. The question remains, why on earth hadn't he said anything hours and hours earlier? I suspect it was a combination of embarrassment ("I meant to do that") and the realization that if we found him, we would put him out of the cat-free zone, where he was busy having Adventures.

The Mnstf meeting went off roughly as planned, although things were a bit rough around the edges. And the reaction of allergic people makes it clear that the cat free zone, when it's actually kept cat-free, does help. It's not perfect, but a carefully cleaned cat-free zone does reduce the allergens and increase people's tolerance. Now that Lady Jane is living in the back rooms, we have plans to do a very, very thorough cleaning, probably including some sort of allergen-destroying product, and work hard at keeping the cat-free zone, you know, cat-free.

Comments

[sraun]

Maybe Ninja heard the vacuum cleaner before he was ready to be found, and then decided that keeping quiet so the monster didn't get him was a good idea?

[lydy.livejournal.com]

I would be hugely surprised if Ninja's reaction to a vacuum cleaner was something other than, "Cool, can we play?"

[dreamshark.livejournal.com]

Re cat allergies, thanks so much for all the thought and effort you guys put into accommodating that. The public area seemed nice and clean and cat-free, and I'm sure it was greatly improved by your efforts. Still, my nose very noticeably started to run after about an hour and I had to leave. This surprised me, because I'm not always so sensitive. It's probably the time of year.

FYI, allergies stack with each other (airborne allergies, any way). If it's an allergic time of year because of pollen or leaf mold or whatever it is that sets me off in October, I'm much more sensitive to other allergens and irritants. I know this intellectually, but it still takes me by surprise when I see it in action. This might be useful to know when you are planning meetings. Fall and early spring are bad allergy times for a lot of people. So all things being equal, summer and winter might be better times for hosting. But different people have different allergies, and you can't please everybody.

In any case, just keeping the cats themselves out of the way is a huge help. For someone with cat allergies, there's nothing worse than having a friendly feline jump up on the furniture next to you and swish its tail in your face.

[lydy.livejournal.com]

This last meeting, the room was rather more filled with dander than we would have liked. My accidental cat had been living there for a month, and we really didn't have the time to completely de-cat the area. That, combined with one of the worst falls for allergens, probably contributed to how bad it was for you. When we finally catch our collective breaths, the plan is to do a more thorough cleaning, and probably use some Aller-C or some similar product on the upholstery.

We tend towards spring and fall meetings because we don't have central air, so in the summer it gets fucking hot, and in the winter, there's no place for the smokers. Although, there are a lot less smokers, these days, so maybe a winter meeting is more practical.

[quadong.livejournal.com]

Ah, the Magic Hat Corner, as it is known to former residents of SF house at Carleton. I had never heard of large mammals falling into them before (mostly Magic Hats), but there you go.

[lydy.livejournal.com]

I must hear more stories about the Magic Hat corner. I have a magic hat, but it's never falling in a hidden corner, before. And while I have occasionally been tempted to turn Ninja into a slipper, I've never thought of him being a magic hat.