No, YOU'RE the one with a drinking problem!
Meet Maokai:
He's the one on the left.
No. Further left. The cat's name is Polaris. And he's being really, really bad.
Maokai is the bamboo plant. Two of you may know him Vine.
First, let me explain this picture. I received Maokai as a gift a couple of years ago. Complete with name, lucky penny in his gravel, and a little Christmas ornament attached.
I used to keep him on my nightstand, next to my alarm clock. At least until I discovered the cats were drinking from his water. Not because they had to, mind you. They receive a fresh bowl several times a day. Sometimes I even leave the sink on for a minute because they seem to find it fascinating. But for whatever reason bamboo was superior to all other waters. So they'd drink from the plant and then start uprooting him and digging through the gravel to get at even more water.
My solution was simple:
"Ha-haa!" I thought in clever piraty jest. "Surely there's no way my cats can possibly reach the bamboo plant now!"
And the plant thrived at the top of my movie collection for quite some time. A collection I've had to sell about half in the past year. What can I say, I was overzealous with the concept of blu rays and HD movies in recent years. I always have been really. When my older brother and I reached our teens, he started collecting CDs and I started collecting VHS tapes. I love movies. I'm passionate about film. Why I don't post more movie reviews and discussions in this blog I have no idea. But I've always been an avid collector. To the point that it's been discussed in therapy and traced back to my early childhood. When I was a kid, my aunt and uncle had a movie collection my brother's and I would frequently gawk at. They owned, seriously, every movie ever freaking made. And they were arranged in what seemed like its own wall around the stereo cabinet. Each one in a special plastic case, properly labelled and possibly alphabetized (I was pretty young so the alphabet was still something of a mystery).
As a young tyke, this was how I gauged success. "Aunt Nancy and Uncle Jim have more Muppet Capers than I even knew existed! It's like they have their very own video store. Inside. Their. House!"
When DVDs first came out, one of the most exciting features for me was the boxes. "Think of how many movies I can fit on a shelf NOW!"
Then blu-rays happened with somehow even slimmer boxes. To say I was excited to build rebuild my collection with a better format is an understatement. To say I once fell into a blu ray bargain bin while shifting around for a discounted copy of Hero, more accurate.
So Maokai was placed at the tippy tip of my blu ray collection. At the peak. With swords. Which by the way, no, I have no idea how to properly use the katana. A couple of years ago my little brother, Josh, approached me and said, "Hey, my friend is moving to The Philippines or one of those places and he gave me some of his swords. But I really don't know what to do with them. Do you want them?"
Well, how often is a man offered a free set of swords? Especially in this day and age.
"I don't have to -like- slay a dragon or duel some shadow warrior or nothing? I can just have a set of swords? Like- straight up katanas and shit for free?"
So the little fairy tale I've constructed is that Maokai is the guardian bamboo watching over my blu ray empire. He's heavily armed at its peak and the local villagers are to bring him fresh water. Hence the wood carved village person. In exchange for supporting his sacred duties, he doesn't butcher the lot of them. And standing tall over everything, he is invincible.
At least until we got a kitten. The result as you know is:
I couldn't have anticipated this. My cats are older. Fatter. One of them decides against hopping on the couch as its far too much effort. Polaris however -and you can see it in his smug little kitten face- is leaner, faster, and willing to climb any surface. We say to him, "No! You can't do that!" And in response he meows, "Ha-haa! Nobody tells me what I can't do!"
So for months I was at war with this kitten. I moved the movie shelf further from the other furniture so it was a more difficult jump. I placed little knickknacks and such around the shelf to barricade his path. Every time I caught him approaching the shelf I'd spray him with water.
It got to the point where he'd looked at the shelf, at that precious bamboo water, and I'd just reach for the water bottle. He'd freeze, waiting for me to pick it up. I'd freeze, waiting for him to make a move. We'd stare each other down for a minute. Inevitably he'd turn around saunter out of the room. Probably off to stare at faucet water or drink from the fresh bowl in the kitchen.
Still, he knew I wasn't home all the time.
On occasion I'd get home to discover gravel and bamboo stalks scattered around my bedroom. Sometimes with a drying waterfall still dripping down my blu ray collection. Once Polaris was even in the middle of this, lying on his back, purring and scratching himself with all the scattered stones. At least until I spray bottled his belly. And there are two notes about this. First, I'd have to spend the next little while gathering up Maokai and placing him in a damp washcloth while I gathered up all the gravel, cleaned it off, and replanted him with just a little gravel at a time. You really have to make sure the roots are spread out and anchored at various depths. At least, that's what I tell myself. I really have no idea but the plant is still alive after multiple uprootings so I think I"m doing something right. Second, I bet my blu ray collection would look even cooler if it had a waterfall pouring over it.
Anyway, the war over the bamboo plant lasted for around a year. As long as we're discussing it as the guardian of blu ray temple, let's go ahead and describe it as "a period of war" in the history of my bamboo plant.
In the end, I found my victory by relocating to a larger bedroom. The furniture is pushed far enough to make Polaris's jump impossible. There is a nearby windowsill, but I discovered that if I keep the blinds closed with the spray bottle on the sill, angling the blinds out, it makes it appear as though the terrain is impossible.
Also note the assorted figurines blocking the sides. The bamboo plant is guarded by the likes of Batman, Cloud Strife, the crew of Serenity, gargoyles, wooden birds, and Nathan Drake. All of them, clearly an intimidating force. Too much for any one kitten to handle. And I'm proud to say that in the months since I've arranged this set up, I've not once had a problem with Polaris. Maokai is safe, protected, and able to do as plants will. Sit there and grow. Drink. And photosynthesize.
I guess those really are all the things plants are into these days.
I have noticed one peculiarity about Maokai though. He drinks more lately. Like a lot more. At first I thought Polaris had figured out a way to the shelf. But none of the hallmark signs of a cat attack are present. Maokai hasn't been uprooted. There isn't gravel anywhere but the put. The water level just drops quicker now than it used to. I'm uncertain if the green walls slightly different lighting is having some impact. Or maybe it's just winter. But I have to refill his water a day or two sooner than I used to.
To the point where I say things like, "Slow down, bamboo! There are only four oceans, you know."
Of course this means I put too much thought into it. Some people say plants have feelings and can hear your words. What if all those uprootings left some sort of emotional scarring or something? Like he's experienced life without water and is now hording it and desperate. He's constantly afraid of another cat attack or drought, so he's drinking more and more.
What if my bamboo plant has a drinking problem?
I don't know how to intervention that! I could gather all his loved ones, which I suppose would be myself, the wooden figure on his shelf, and the cat. We could all take turns sharing our thoughts which I suppose would consist of me saying, "You're drinking too much! We're all worried you'll become super saturated." All while trying to keep the cat away from his gravel.
But they say people with a drinking problem won't listen until they hit bottom. I doubt he'd even try to turn things around and address the cat's drinking problem.
"Polaris tried to kill me because of a drinking problem!"
And the cat would meow something like, "I know it seems impossible, but I too once overcame a drinking problem. It took time. A lot of barriers had to be established and erected. But I can honestly say that now I can't murder you. I still want to. The demons will always be there. But I can't. You're too high up and I can't make the jump."
So the whole time we're talking to the bamboo I'm sure he'll just keep on standing there, drinking. And drinking. And drinking. And I don't know, maybe looking as though he's trying to flip us the bird with his bamboo leaf.
And he's right. What can I do? Not hydrate him? Let him die? If I even try the drinking will only get worse. My only option is to keep watering him. To keep enabling him. To let the cycle continue where he keeps drinking, keeps growing, and keeps standing over everything else in the bedroom. High on his mighty tower of blu rays, looking down on us all.
I suppose I should just be thankful he isn't driving.
He's the one on the left.
No. Further left. The cat's name is Polaris. And he's being really, really bad.
Maokai is the bamboo plant. Two of you may know him Vine.
First, let me explain this picture. I received Maokai as a gift a couple of years ago. Complete with name, lucky penny in his gravel, and a little Christmas ornament attached.
I used to keep him on my nightstand, next to my alarm clock. At least until I discovered the cats were drinking from his water. Not because they had to, mind you. They receive a fresh bowl several times a day. Sometimes I even leave the sink on for a minute because they seem to find it fascinating. But for whatever reason bamboo was superior to all other waters. So they'd drink from the plant and then start uprooting him and digging through the gravel to get at even more water.
My solution was simple:
"Ha-haa!" I thought in clever piraty jest. "Surely there's no way my cats can possibly reach the bamboo plant now!"
And the plant thrived at the top of my movie collection for quite some time. A collection I've had to sell about half in the past year. What can I say, I was overzealous with the concept of blu rays and HD movies in recent years. I always have been really. When my older brother and I reached our teens, he started collecting CDs and I started collecting VHS tapes. I love movies. I'm passionate about film. Why I don't post more movie reviews and discussions in this blog I have no idea. But I've always been an avid collector. To the point that it's been discussed in therapy and traced back to my early childhood. When I was a kid, my aunt and uncle had a movie collection my brother's and I would frequently gawk at. They owned, seriously, every movie ever freaking made. And they were arranged in what seemed like its own wall around the stereo cabinet. Each one in a special plastic case, properly labelled and possibly alphabetized (I was pretty young so the alphabet was still something of a mystery).
As a young tyke, this was how I gauged success. "Aunt Nancy and Uncle Jim have more Muppet Capers than I even knew existed! It's like they have their very own video store. Inside. Their. House!"
When DVDs first came out, one of the most exciting features for me was the boxes. "Think of how many movies I can fit on a shelf NOW!"
Then blu-rays happened with somehow even slimmer boxes. To say I was excited to build rebuild my collection with a better format is an understatement. To say I once fell into a blu ray bargain bin while shifting around for a discounted copy of Hero, more accurate.
So Maokai was placed at the tippy tip of my blu ray collection. At the peak. With swords. Which by the way, no, I have no idea how to properly use the katana. A couple of years ago my little brother, Josh, approached me and said, "Hey, my friend is moving to The Philippines or one of those places and he gave me some of his swords. But I really don't know what to do with them. Do you want them?"
Well, how often is a man offered a free set of swords? Especially in this day and age.
"I don't have to -like- slay a dragon or duel some shadow warrior or nothing? I can just have a set of swords? Like- straight up katanas and shit for free?"
So the little fairy tale I've constructed is that Maokai is the guardian bamboo watching over my blu ray empire. He's heavily armed at its peak and the local villagers are to bring him fresh water. Hence the wood carved village person. In exchange for supporting his sacred duties, he doesn't butcher the lot of them. And standing tall over everything, he is invincible.
At least until we got a kitten. The result as you know is:
I couldn't have anticipated this. My cats are older. Fatter. One of them decides against hopping on the couch as its far too much effort. Polaris however -and you can see it in his smug little kitten face- is leaner, faster, and willing to climb any surface. We say to him, "No! You can't do that!" And in response he meows, "Ha-haa! Nobody tells me what I can't do!"
So for months I was at war with this kitten. I moved the movie shelf further from the other furniture so it was a more difficult jump. I placed little knickknacks and such around the shelf to barricade his path. Every time I caught him approaching the shelf I'd spray him with water.
It got to the point where he'd looked at the shelf, at that precious bamboo water, and I'd just reach for the water bottle. He'd freeze, waiting for me to pick it up. I'd freeze, waiting for him to make a move. We'd stare each other down for a minute. Inevitably he'd turn around saunter out of the room. Probably off to stare at faucet water or drink from the fresh bowl in the kitchen.
Still, he knew I wasn't home all the time.
On occasion I'd get home to discover gravel and bamboo stalks scattered around my bedroom. Sometimes with a drying waterfall still dripping down my blu ray collection. Once Polaris was even in the middle of this, lying on his back, purring and scratching himself with all the scattered stones. At least until I spray bottled his belly. And there are two notes about this. First, I'd have to spend the next little while gathering up Maokai and placing him in a damp washcloth while I gathered up all the gravel, cleaned it off, and replanted him with just a little gravel at a time. You really have to make sure the roots are spread out and anchored at various depths. At least, that's what I tell myself. I really have no idea but the plant is still alive after multiple uprootings so I think I"m doing something right. Second, I bet my blu ray collection would look even cooler if it had a waterfall pouring over it.
Anyway, the war over the bamboo plant lasted for around a year. As long as we're discussing it as the guardian of blu ray temple, let's go ahead and describe it as "a period of war" in the history of my bamboo plant.
In the end, I found my victory by relocating to a larger bedroom. The furniture is pushed far enough to make Polaris's jump impossible. There is a nearby windowsill, but I discovered that if I keep the blinds closed with the spray bottle on the sill, angling the blinds out, it makes it appear as though the terrain is impossible.
Also note the assorted figurines blocking the sides. The bamboo plant is guarded by the likes of Batman, Cloud Strife, the crew of Serenity, gargoyles, wooden birds, and Nathan Drake. All of them, clearly an intimidating force. Too much for any one kitten to handle. And I'm proud to say that in the months since I've arranged this set up, I've not once had a problem with Polaris. Maokai is safe, protected, and able to do as plants will. Sit there and grow. Drink. And photosynthesize.
I guess those really are all the things plants are into these days.
I have noticed one peculiarity about Maokai though. He drinks more lately. Like a lot more. At first I thought Polaris had figured out a way to the shelf. But none of the hallmark signs of a cat attack are present. Maokai hasn't been uprooted. There isn't gravel anywhere but the put. The water level just drops quicker now than it used to. I'm uncertain if the green walls slightly different lighting is having some impact. Or maybe it's just winter. But I have to refill his water a day or two sooner than I used to.
To the point where I say things like, "Slow down, bamboo! There are only four oceans, you know."
Of course this means I put too much thought into it. Some people say plants have feelings and can hear your words. What if all those uprootings left some sort of emotional scarring or something? Like he's experienced life without water and is now hording it and desperate. He's constantly afraid of another cat attack or drought, so he's drinking more and more.
What if my bamboo plant has a drinking problem?
I don't know how to intervention that! I could gather all his loved ones, which I suppose would be myself, the wooden figure on his shelf, and the cat. We could all take turns sharing our thoughts which I suppose would consist of me saying, "You're drinking too much! We're all worried you'll become super saturated." All while trying to keep the cat away from his gravel.
But they say people with a drinking problem won't listen until they hit bottom. I doubt he'd even try to turn things around and address the cat's drinking problem.
"Polaris tried to kill me because of a drinking problem!"
And the cat would meow something like, "I know it seems impossible, but I too once overcame a drinking problem. It took time. A lot of barriers had to be established and erected. But I can honestly say that now I can't murder you. I still want to. The demons will always be there. But I can't. You're too high up and I can't make the jump."
So the whole time we're talking to the bamboo I'm sure he'll just keep on standing there, drinking. And drinking. And drinking. And I don't know, maybe looking as though he's trying to flip us the bird with his bamboo leaf.
And he's right. What can I do? Not hydrate him? Let him die? If I even try the drinking will only get worse. My only option is to keep watering him. To keep enabling him. To let the cycle continue where he keeps drinking, keeps growing, and keeps standing over everything else in the bedroom. High on his mighty tower of blu rays, looking down on us all.
I suppose I should just be thankful he isn't driving.
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