See her Amazing Healing Powers! (I did say it was worse than it looked.)
Really, cayenne and immediate ten minutes of pressure make a difference. Good night's sleep, too. Down to steri-strip, and elaborate non-bumping rituals.
We both woke up too early, and attempts to go back to bed for more sleep didn't quite work. Moby had already taken his late morning spot on the bed, where D's feet would be. So we just gave up, and watched him, and the tv. Catching up on The Daily Show, and a couple of Animal Cops episodes.
He really is a wonderful cat. I love that he is SO black, aside from a few white strands, the small bare spot on his back- where the fur is growing in whitish, and the brownish undercoat, only visible on his belly, in strong light, when he's stretched out on his back. He doesn't bite or scratch, gives plenty of signals when he's not in the mood to be bothered, his affectionate trust has to be earned, but he is also very tolerant. He's not over friendly, but is politely sociable. Very much the strong, silent type. He has taken to rubbing his face against my big toe while I put on my socks in the morning, when I got ahead of him once, he ran over, and looked rather disappointed, until I put my foot back up for his benediction.
D says he is a cat with gravitas. Even when extended full length on his back, top of his head on the blanket, one eye open, paws crossed, watching us.
He also seems to like finding dark colored cloth. If we can't find him immediately, if not in his Fortress of Solitude, he is likely on the sofa on a black wool skirt, or the navy polartec blanket. After years of photographing him, lighter color cats are almost too easy. Nothing is exactly easy about Moby, but he is utterly worth the time it took to get to know him and earn his respect.
But then, I've always preferred people who don't just give away their regard too readily. I like the cranky and the demanding, if they also want to be pleased - just a little underneath. The ones who trust that they are worth some effort to get to know. I distrust surface beauty and facile charm, along with gushing friendliness, always strikes me as pushy salesmanship, to hide a second rate product. Real stuff doesn't care if you want it, best to wait for someone who can appreciate it.
Going out for art and brunch. We've needed a date, and with rain, and more breathable air, today is the day. That and I'm not doing much cleaning up at the moment. Too much screaming when I inevitably hit the damnthumb.