Hello Fellow Felines,
This is Omiti, your Window Watcher reporting in. Today, I wish to address the singular art of watching the evening fall. I know that this watching forms the central part of your routine, so I feel that it is proper that I begin my blog with proper homage to this important activity.
First, let me begin by conceding that watching the evening fall is an activity we begin before we are conscious of ourselves, before we realise the full potential of our glorious beings. It is something we do before we know that we do it, even as kittens; however, it takes a mature feline to fully appreciate the finesse required for this art.
So let us prepare to watch. For this, it is essential to find a window frame, rooftop, a sturdy branch, or (my favorite) a fence to perch on. Sharing the watching space is taboo to our kind; only one cat may occupy a single frame, a rooftop square, branch, or a fence post. Make sure that your spot affords an adequate view, which includes the sky, the middle, and the floor or the ground. The middle, of course, is the most essential part, since you will fix your eyes on it through most of the process. So you might want to ensure that there is enough free space, with no leaves, branches, walls, poles, or other obstructions; this will help you see all the varying grays that will shift with the changing lights. At the same time, you do not want ONLY blank space, as this might do nothing more than induce heavy somnolence, which will not serve.
Once you find the perfect space, I strongly suggest that you claim it. The best spaces are the ones claimed by someone else (hence vouching for their quality), marked with a piece of paper, an empty plastic bag, or failing that, a cushion (though papers and plastic bags are highly desired). If another being occupies it, that being must be evacuated. There are a few effective ways of achieving this. If it is a canine, it can be evacuated with a few startling yowls, threats, and hisses. If it is human, another methodology must be adapted, as threats and yowls will have no desirable effect and might even cause an unwelcome burst of cold moistness (which must be avoided at all costs). To determine the correct methodology, sniff the spot from all angles; in extreme circumstances, when the kind of the occupant cannot be conclusively determined, slight tasting is allowed. If the occupant is human, you must lie down and spread yourself most vastly. A certain amount of clucking is to be expected. Just stand your ground (puns intended for smarter felines) and the space shall be yours.
Now sit up on your haunches, for better observation. Flex ears and yawn deeply to drawn in all the oxygen in approximately 4 feet radius around you (this might take a couple of yawns, for all you precocious kittens reading this). This will preclude the need for breathing while watching, a most distracting thing. Send a slight tremor down your being, to check all systems and free the tail (programming the tail for an swish every half minute might be required to warn away all who venture near).
Once the posture is assumed, fix your gaze on the lightest shade of gray in front of you, and watch it dance without moving your pupils. This will enable you to watch the evening fall from the sky and the curious effects caused by this on the neighboring houses, rodents, humans, grass blades, bugs, and the rest of lesser beings inhabiting the lower rungs of the evolutionary ladder. Fixing an unwavering gaze will convey your utter indifference to their petty existence, at the same time, establish your unarguable superiority over them.
Maintain this posture until the divine music of an opening can summons.
Next time, then, fellow felines, with more on the life of an urbane sophisticate!
This is Omiti, your Window Watcher reporting in. Today, I wish to address the singular art of watching the evening fall. I know that this watching forms the central part of your routine, so I feel that it is proper that I begin my blog with proper homage to this important activity.
First, let me begin by conceding that watching the evening fall is an activity we begin before we are conscious of ourselves, before we realise the full potential of our glorious beings. It is something we do before we know that we do it, even as kittens; however, it takes a mature feline to fully appreciate the finesse required for this art.
So let us prepare to watch. For this, it is essential to find a window frame, rooftop, a sturdy branch, or (my favorite) a fence to perch on. Sharing the watching space is taboo to our kind; only one cat may occupy a single frame, a rooftop square, branch, or a fence post. Make sure that your spot affords an adequate view, which includes the sky, the middle, and the floor or the ground. The middle, of course, is the most essential part, since you will fix your eyes on it through most of the process. So you might want to ensure that there is enough free space, with no leaves, branches, walls, poles, or other obstructions; this will help you see all the varying grays that will shift with the changing lights. At the same time, you do not want ONLY blank space, as this might do nothing more than induce heavy somnolence, which will not serve.
Once you find the perfect space, I strongly suggest that you claim it. The best spaces are the ones claimed by someone else (hence vouching for their quality), marked with a piece of paper, an empty plastic bag, or failing that, a cushion (though papers and plastic bags are highly desired). If another being occupies it, that being must be evacuated. There are a few effective ways of achieving this. If it is a canine, it can be evacuated with a few startling yowls, threats, and hisses. If it is human, another methodology must be adapted, as threats and yowls will have no desirable effect and might even cause an unwelcome burst of cold moistness (which must be avoided at all costs). To determine the correct methodology, sniff the spot from all angles; in extreme circumstances, when the kind of the occupant cannot be conclusively determined, slight tasting is allowed. If the occupant is human, you must lie down and spread yourself most vastly. A certain amount of clucking is to be expected. Just stand your ground (puns intended for smarter felines) and the space shall be yours.
Now sit up on your haunches, for better observation. Flex ears and yawn deeply to drawn in all the oxygen in approximately 4 feet radius around you (this might take a couple of yawns, for all you precocious kittens reading this). This will preclude the need for breathing while watching, a most distracting thing. Send a slight tremor down your being, to check all systems and free the tail (programming the tail for an swish every half minute might be required to warn away all who venture near).
Once the posture is assumed, fix your gaze on the lightest shade of gray in front of you, and watch it dance without moving your pupils. This will enable you to watch the evening fall from the sky and the curious effects caused by this on the neighboring houses, rodents, humans, grass blades, bugs, and the rest of lesser beings inhabiting the lower rungs of the evolutionary ladder. Fixing an unwavering gaze will convey your utter indifference to their petty existence, at the same time, establish your unarguable superiority over them.
Maintain this posture until the divine music of an opening can summons.
Next time, then, fellow felines, with more on the life of an urbane sophisticate!
