Necessities of Life

The Professor is, frankly, middle-aged. However, he's still spry and very active, and has a deep and abiding interest in nutrition. This interest drives him always to try new tastes and textures, some of which he enjoys much more than others. Plastics are a particular favourite, and he will spend all day mauling shopping bags or cellophane tape.

In general he's a quiet roommate (in general), preferring to find a high perch whence he can observe the world. The best such perch is in a window, and padded (unfortunately since the photo was taken, that particular perch has been donated to a homeless shelter near you). He has, scattered around the place, several cardboard boxes (some lined with fun crunchy tissue paper, some with soft warm flannel), and a soft bed made just for him. Despite these customised resting-places, at night he prefers to climb into bed with me, where he curls up in the most inconvenient place possible. If I move even one tiny bit, he jams his claws--oh, so quietly--into whatever part of me is closest. Fun!

But I suppose I set myself up for it when I brought the Prof into my life, thirteen years ago.

The Professor on Leisure

The Professor has finally given me my own access to the blog, so I can post on his behalf under my own identity. He says it's because he doesn't like typing in the third person; but he didn't have to give me a unique ID for that. I think it's because he can't be bothered updating as frequently as he wants to (too much work, the thesis you know), but he doesn't want people thinking that my posts are his. What with my intelligence being on a much lower level than his.

On a quirky note, today's topic is leisure time, of which the Prof has little enough. What little he has is spent napping, chasing his tail, bathing eighteen hundred times a day, eating, climbing up the curtains (sorry, "subduing" the curtains), and constantly hovering when I'm at the computer (he's always got to know what I'm doing, and he tries to correct my typing--I hate that!--by simply walking on the correct keys).

He takes his "free" time seriously, and if there's sunshine to be had he'll postpone everything else in his life in order to take advantage of it. Please note in the photo to the right, the newly re-hung stripey curtains, hey? Cotton duck, washable and not prone to holding the Professor's shed fur (I will say nothing remotely similar about the crappy broadloom carpet beneath him).

Life Is Short

The Professor doesn't like to waste time. He's got too many things to do in a day. But he also knows that he's got to be aware of world events--he does plan to take over the world, after all--so he always takes the time to watch the news. Note that he keeps his scratchy-board next to the telly so he can reach over and give his claws a good workout when commercials come on. All efficience, that's the Professor.


And speaking of efficience, the Professor's most recent project involved his being spooked by something unseen, and inadvertently losing his footing on the desk, which caused a loud spillage of objects from the desk to the floor. Our intrepid photographer reached the site only in time to see the Professor returning to examine the damage he'd caused. He did not, for the record, seem particularly displeased.

The Latest Project

The Professor never lets a day go by without doing something of note--work on his thesis, usually, but sometimes he likes to play around with DIY projects around the house. Projects such as the one noted to the right.

The Professor assured his HO that the stripey curtains were "dissing him" and he was in the process of thrashing them when the merlot curtains joined in the fray and he was obliged to climb to the top to cut off their means of support. He's only twelve pounds, but Professor Furpants packs a wallop when he comes up against drywall plugs.

Today his HO ran out to the local hardware shop to locate some Poly Filla and new, stronger drywall screws. With luck the curtains can be up before nightfall, and the HO can resume running around the place in her underpants (so the fellow in the opposite apartment who sits on his balcony and stares, won't have anything to look at. Except curtains.).

For everyone's entertainment, here's a shot of the Professor napping after his morning exertions. Aesthetics don't interest him so much, so he's losing no sleep over the lopsided curtain rod, and he rather enjoys having nothing blocking the sunshine from coming in.

Introduction to Professor Furpants

The Professor was just four weeks old when he was taken from an early foster home, and moved in with the Human Overlord who gave him a "name". At the time the HO had another cat in the house, whose bad temper merely amused the young Professor, who had already set his eyes on world domination. He spent hours chasing her irritably-flicking tail and biting her sensitive paws. In return, she taught him that there is no difference between "play-fighting" and "fighting", a philosophy that the Professor embraces to this day.

There were further upheavals in the Professor's life; he was obliged to make several moves when he was young, as his HO's life was altered by several events outside the Professor's "caring" range. Through it all he continued with his passion--studying Human Overlords and their society--and biting anyone who came within the reach of his teeth, including his mentor-cat.

His HO disrupted his life, and that of his mentor, by daring to leave the country, ostensibly for "work". During the nearly five years she was gone, the Professor's mentor tragically passed away, and the Professor was left alone in the world. It was a dark time for him; he was forced to co-habitate with people and cats he didn't know. His studies faltered and he did no work on his thesis.

The Professor's HO returned home at last, and after a short period during which he (and his HO) continued co-habiting with the two Humans and two cats, he and his HO finally moved into a suitable mountaintop lair. The Professor's studies are back on track and he hopes to complete his thesis by the end of 2009.