Arizona (holds out stud-finder): Can you mark the living room wall for me?
Me (salutes): Will do.
(Arizona and our aged stud-finder--which I 'appropriated' from my mom, who got it lord only knows when--have a love-hate relationship. As in, it loves to mess with him. I, on the other hand, get along with it just fine. Then again, I have already proven I can find the occasional stud. *Wink.*)
Arizona (a few minutes later, surveying my work): Um, sweetie? Could you recheck this?
Me: I checked it three times, got the same answer all three times. So either Mr. Stud-findy is messing with me today, or the builder was eyeballing the whole 'sixteen inches on center' concept of wall building. It was the seventies, you know.
And what do you know? The studs really were set fifteen and a half and seventeen and a bit apart. Why is this relevant to the topic at hand, you might ask? Well, because this exchange happened as part of the latest iteration of the Catification of Chez Jess & Arizona.
Now, mind you, Arizona grew up with a cat named (as boys are wont to name things) Coast Guard, who lived a full and adventurous life. So he wasn't unhappy to acquire Lucy T. Cat along with me. And she, in turn, prefers him to me, because he provides gushy food and doesn't try to cuddle her.
In fact, it was his idea for us to buy our first carpet-covered window perch, on the theory that she was taking up a corner of his desk looking out the window, so we might as well giver her a spot of her own. Which evolved, once Pixel T. Kitten joined us (she's now more of a MegaPixel), to a pair of hammock-style window perches in our living room, held up by pretty metal brackets and adored by the cats, whether it's winter and they're toasting their buns over the baseboard, or summer and they're watching Bird TV through the screen.
More recently, though, in an effort to save The Leviathan (my aged, battered and beloved couch) from being clawed even further, Arizona bought the cats a knee-high scratchy-post-condo deal. When that proved successful, he added a chest-high three-level version that was an immediate hit. Whereupon he decided that since Pix likes heights, she needed another level above that of the cat tree. So, in the wake of the Great Stud Debate, our living room wall now sports a padded and fluff-covered kitty perch on which our four-legged roommates can perch like miniature mountain lions, and stare down at me while I work.
I'm feeling too lazy at the minute to get the camera, and my phone is from roughly the Bronze Age, so take my word for it. It's pretty cute! As is Arizona's complete commitment to Kitty Happiness. The next thing you know, we'll have one of these!