The Mute Herald

I could fly

those birds would be toast.

Detailed experiments conducted by yours truly on the subject of shortened period sleep, or power napping, reveal that the brain does in fact reinvigorate enough to allow continued functionality beyond a period of time disproportionally larger than the period of sleep.   There are of course limits as to how often one can delay taking full rest in favor of power naps.

Certain other factors can also mitigate the beneficial effect of the power nap, chiefly:

• one or more felines participating in mutual or self cleaning exercises on the body of the subject attempting to sleep;
• one or more felines engaging in high velocity runs or chases on / around / through the subject’s bed;
• one or more felines making extended use of vocal capabilities

It is recommended that power napping is conducted in a controlled environment

The main defining factor of the power nap is, of course, the fact that it is cut short after the desired period of time.  Failure to stop the power nap would increase the risk of the subject going into deep sleep, thus shooting past any deadlines or target times that were set before the sleep period.  The mobile phone alarm is the principal instrument to aid in the termination (hence definition) of the power nap.  There are however conflicting forces at work in the operation of the mobile phone alarm:

On one hand the mobile phones have to be kept close enough so that the emitted sound has the desired effect of waking the subject and terminating the power nap.

On the other hand, one of the aforementioned felines has a habit of being independent and creating his own unique resting space.  Too often this involves pushing all items off from the surface of the bedside table, which under normal circumstances would include the all important mobile phones.  This cannot be risked because the mobile units either (a) cost significantly, or (b) are not the direct property of the subject.

A compromise is reached by placing the mobile phones inside the top drawer of the bedside table.  There is however another addition to the risk matrix, that the sound emanating from the mobile phone alarms do not reach the required levels to wake the subject from the power nap.  In one documented instance the alarm rang for a full 47 minutes and 23 seconds before the subject fully came to.  This risk factor can be mitigated by placing the less valuable of the two mobile units (the one not belonging to the subject) on the floor next to the bed, so that the sound waves are unimpeded.

In closing it is recommended that whenever power naps are planned, the subject should ensure that a significant other (or paid collaborator) calls in on the telephone land line to ensure full consciousness at the end of the nap.

The cats have learned to live under the same roof with each other pretty quickly.  From the accounts I was hearing I believe we were pretty lucky in this respect.  Other owners have had to keep their cats in separate rooms for weeks, getting them used to each other very slowly.

Over the past month two extreme behaviours have been displayed: tender loving grooming, and wild play fighting.  They seem to exhibit more of the latter than the former.  Enjoy:

It’s funny how the camera loses focus of Pebble because of this dark colour and lack of sharp edges.  He’s a fuzzy blur.  A stealth cat.

Yesterday evening we picked up our second feline dependent.  It is just under two months old, and if the first night is any indication we will not be getting much sleep in the days to come.  After the naming ceremony (it’s Pebble), we settled him in the bathroom, but between him whining to come out, and the resident cat meowing to get to him, we couldn’t string together a whole two hours of sleep.

Today after work we decided to let them mingle, and the above video is the result.  One of them anyway.

Warning: for the foreseeable future this blog will have a higher cat content.

Day 432

Peace, not just for the subject

One would think that by now, the cat, Paua, would have settled in.  Yet she surprises us with wildly shifting behaviours in a very short time.

From hovering at the brink of sleep at the foot of our bed one moment, to meowing mournfully, nose touching the front door, the next. Shortly thereafter playfully tossing around a tatter of cloth or bag, followed by a heightened sense of fear of everything that moves. That would be us. She’d dash from one room to the next, climbing on the furniture and fittings, or cower in a corner, back arched, tail huge.  As if nothing was amiss, she would then drop on the floor belly up, inviting attention.  All the above in the space of a few minutes, but of all the activities, the meowing would last the longest.  I fear for her mental health.

And ours.

The malevolent eyes are a bit of a giveaway.