I posted this series of photos on this day in 2011; it’s a sweet memory of one of Cookie’s most endearing habits—climbing into just about anything she could fit into, having a bath and a nap to try it out. I loved her natural curiosity and eagerness to explore the unknown and her simple happiness at fitting herself into a new thing whatever unconventional cat container that might be, especially in the kitchen. And Cookie had good sense because for all that I get out the pots and pans and bowls and I cook and can food and make large batches of soup and so on, she never even came close to being hurt in any way as some would worry. Another cat I would have discouraged. Cookie could get away with anything.
Just to prove that Cookie doesn’t have to spend her entire day as my nursemaid, I wanted to show you the other things she does to pass the dull time between emergencies.
Yes, she’s sleeping in the salad bowl. Judging by the other things she’s chosen to curl up and nap inside, she seems to like round things; perhaps it’s because Cookie has always been a little round thing herself most of her life. That’s what you get for choosing the name “Cookie” (she really did, read Cookie and Me, Our 18th Anniversary!)
There were no salad greens in the bowl; under Cookie’s supervision I had begun making a salad from the last of them and washed and rinsed the bowl, dropping a little dishcloth in the bottom to soak up the last of the water, then the phone rang. I set down the bowl and answered, coming back a few minutes later to continue my salad, looked around the room and wondered where Cookie was since she’s nearly always on the cabinet where she also eats.
Then I looked a little more closely at the scene and discovered Cookie Dough in the salad bowl. You have to know that Cookie Dough was one of the first nicknames I found for the the roly poly little speckled kitty, especially for her propensity to curl up in round things and look like a lump of cookie dough, chocolate chips and all (her first name was Chocolate Chip Cookie).
Because I was out of salad greens and didn’t want to disturb her, I left her there. Every time I went to put the bowl away until I went to the market, Cookie was in it, so, of course, I continued taking photos!
And from the back she really looked like Cookie Dough, or perhaps a nice dark bread dough, rising in the bowl. This reminds me of the cartoon by B. Kliban entitled “How to tell a cat from a meatloaf” (check for ears and tail).
Cookie is always patient with me and my camera and sketch pad and other such things, but sometimes she just wishes she could get in a good nap.
But the truest test of any container in which Cookie might fit herself is whether or not it’s good for a bath. Not quite like the Renoir “The Bather”, but round and soft-looking nonetheless. Love the little pink paw pads.
Just to note, I don’t actually let my cats hang out where I prepare food. The last thing I want is a cat jumping up into my workspace when I’m setting down a hot pan from the stove, or heading for the sink with boiling water to pour off the vegetables I’m blanching, plus there’s the matter of cat hair and other things I might not want in my food, but they need to watch what I’m doing when I’m cooking. The little stool I have by the sink isn’t enough when they all want to get into the act and Cookie can’t get up there, so I allow them to observe from the cabinet in the center of the room and the table. My seniors have always had their meals on the cabinet since I can guard the edges from starving juveniles trying to get at tasty senior food. I don’t mix uses for the cabinet by also using it to prepare my own food so that I don’t confuse them or me, although I do prepare their food there on occasion.
Yes, you’ve seen this photo plenty of times before. I do eat at my table, but since I’ve had as many as ten cats at one time I’ve tried to set down a limit that they are not permitted there while I’m eating, and if I ever feed them any of my own food, I never, ever feed them while I’m eating; usually they eat before me anyway! But ten cats descending on my plate does not seem like a good idea—trust me, it’s happened. Of course, Cookie gets away with a lot, as you would expect, in part because she uses a footstool, my chair and the table as her series of steps to get up onto the cabinet. I am also careful to wash any food-bearing containers she has chosen for a nap.
Last year at this time Cookie was happily acting up in the kitchen as various vegetables came in and cooking and serving vessels were set on the table. There are more to come, in the meantime, here are other posts featuring Cookie’s kitchen escapades: In the Kitchen With Cookie
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