I'm going to call it a win

I fixed a hair doo-dad and got super glue on only three, maybe four, of my fingers.

WINNING!

And, here is a cat picture, to make up for the brevity of this post:

I'm in a rut

A writing rut.  Which can be a good thing . . . meaning that nothing of much importance or exciting is happening around me right now. And, gees, that's a nice break.

I started this blog 10 years ago because I needed a place to vent.  Well, as with most of life, the cause of my need for venting has disappeared. (YAY) And, then other dramas, mostly of various humans' making cropped up into my idyllic little monkey life.

I nearly allowed someone to take this blog away from me.  Fortunately, I came to my senses.

But, now that I'm in this rut, I find myself wondering what to do about the blog.  Shift focus?  Drum up drama?  Wait for the election cycle to get me all revved up over injustices?

Or, post all cat photos, all the time?

Coming back

I had to be out of town this week on business.  I have long since outgrown being excited over business trips. And, it didn't help that ESK left me, and back in the day, trips with her were always a blast.  We'd make time to do something fun and bonding.  We'd eat adventurous food. It is tremendously difficult to find good traveling companions.

But, apparently, the one who really suffered was The Pirate Jean Lafitte.  Phenom tells me that he would run into the bedroom and look for me, that he'd look for me around the house and cry when he couldn't find me.

When I got home, there was much cooing and cuddling and not letting me too far out of his reach. Plus, there was this:

I suspect he will not be pleased to learn there are three (at least) more excursions, on which he isn't invited, planned this summer.

Bait and Switch

Ah the age old scam.  We fell for it.  We arrived to look at one model, were shown a smaller, sleeker model . . . but then some how ended up with something spastic.  I'm speaking, of course, of the Humane Society.

Many years ago, long before social media existed, we read a tale of woe in our local paper about a dog at the humane society shelter.  We had already spoken of getting a dog, since we'd moved into a home with a fenced in back yard.  We went to inquire, and were told that the dog we were interested was no longer available but were shown a cute puppy who fetched the ball and gave kisses and was adorable.  Paper work was completed, we went home to see if we passed their background check, and two days later, we picked up Chester.  We got him home and released him into the yard, only to watch him go completely nuts.  He ran like his tail was on fire and was generally hyper.  After watching this for a couple of minutes, the Phenom and I both said, at the same time, "you know, I thought he was smaller."  To this day, although it turns out that Chester was the perfect pick of a dog for us, we still aren't entirely sure we weren't baited, baited, and switched.

Well, it's happened again.  This time to a friend.  

A friend reposted pictures of a super pretty, fluffy kitty at the humane society.  One picture in particular was so breathtaking that she decided to give the kitty a home.  She went to inquire and was told that this particular kitty had a sibling that was very shy and needed to be adopted with the one they'd posted.  She was caught in a moment of weakness and agreed.  She took both kitties.  They are both beautiful, but the second one is needing much more care to acclimate to her home.

Then, this morning, the humane society posted that the pretty kitty had gone to his new "furever" home with his NEW brother.  NEW  . .  as in not actually siblings.  HA!  Suckers!

Well, that sucked

This is the Pirate Jean Lafitte.  Well, his full title is "The Pirate Jean Lafitte, Buccaneer, Privateer, Cutthroat, Mercenary of the Seven Seas, Scourge of the Caribbean, and Bandit of the Bayou."

He is a tremendously active little kitten.  We thought he was the only survivor of a litter of 5 his mother had this summer.  His mother, 'Possum, is a pretty terrible mother cat.  She will simply stop tending to her kittens when they are a couple weeks old.  They pretty much have to pursue her if they are going to survive.  Generally, she has them completely weaned by 5 weeks old.  In a moment of weakness, I scooped this one up and brought him in.  He has not made himself popular with the other cats.  And, frankly, with the human/monkey, there are times it's a good thing he's damn cute.

Last night, we were settled into bed.  He was curled up on my shoulder, and we were just about asleep when we heard something we couldn't quite identify.  He popped his head up . . . I opened my eyes.  It sounded like a struggle outside.  I flipped on the light in time to hear a dog bark.  I went flying outside to find two dogs attacking Possum.  She was dead.  I chased the dogs off.  And, at 2am this morning, I was dealing with a body.

I think the Pirate knew.  He seemed freaked out the rest of the night.  The other cats have been weird today too.

Thing is.  Once we brought the Pirate in the house, a small, all-black kitten showed up.  I think he's from the same litter of the Pirate's . . . only the momma cat stashed him somewhere else.  The little black cat is much more standoffish than the Pirate ever was.  But, he likes tormenting Chester and lately has taken to sitting in our kitchen window and hanging out with the other cats.  (We find it curious that a stranger kitty is more welcome than the Pirate.)  I suspect The Phenom is tempted to bring the little black kitten in. . . but that would just be chaos .  .   . right?

I kinda asked for this.

This is the Pirate Jean Lafitte.  He is the only surviving kitten from a litter a stray dropped under one of our azalea bushes.  The Phenom has a thing for black and white cats.  When this one survived, I thought Phenom would have real difficulty not bringing it indoors.  As it turns out, I'm the weak link.  Saturday morning, as I was giving him his morning scritch, I decided I didn't want this little dude to end up like some of the other male cats that occasionally come to our back door for food . . . fights, injuries, etc.  So, to the vet we went.

I've named him the Pirate Jean Lafitte.  And, when you name a kitten after a pirate, you kinda get what you are asking for.  This little dude has some serious cat crazies.  He LOVES attacking my fingers as I type on the computer.  He thinks the computer mouse is his mortal enemy, and he must smack at the images on the computer screen.

He likes running at top speed around the bathroom/bedroom (he's in temporary isolation from the other cats).  He and Phenom play "hide and pounce."  He has a most impressive crab walk while playing with the Phenom.

While I was sick, I often thought it would be nice to have a kitten to keep me company/amused during those weeks in bed.  Now that I'm better, I've brought in a kitten.  Good thing, it would have been too much to have this crazy little critter around the wound vac or the other various tubes/pouches/medications.

A friend, who also loves black and white kitties, has expressed an interest in him.  On one hand, I'm happy to think he might end up in a really excellent household with just two other kitties . . . but already, Phenom is showing signs of deep attachment.

Shifting

We go on vacation tomorrow.  It will be interesting because we are joining two other couples on our usual June NOLA trip.  One couple, we've traveled with before and know we do well together, but the other couple we've never traveled WITH.  We've traveled to see them.  They've traveled to see us.  And, one member this couple has met one member of the other couple, but it was a very long time ago in a totally different context.  Everyone else knows us or are strangers.

But, it's NOLA!  How bad could it be?

I am a planner.  I normally like to have a rough outline of what restaurants/bars we plan to visit, but nothing else is planned out on NOLA trips.  But, since I'm the common denominator with all the couples, I felt that some structure was needed.  We were more specific in our restaurant planning . . . and there will be a side excursion that all or any can attend.

But, that isn't what this post is about.  THIS post is about how funny the behavior of our household shifts with little changes.  In preparation of our travels, half the critters have been taken for boarding.  The Old one, the one that pees if she doesn't get a fresh box every day, the one who bullies the other cats, and the one on a special diet are all unhappily at the vet's tonight.  This means the remaining cats are on one hand worried it's a matter of time before they get boxed up too, but on the other hand are enjoying less competition of our hands.  Also, since the one who pees isn't here, I can open the door to the bedroom.  (This winter, the one who pees claimed TWO pairs of my suede boots . . . little troll.)  Right now, as I write, two cats are on the bed and there might be one under the bed too.  (The last cat is hiding under the kitchen table, hoping that if more cats are boxed up, we will forget about her.)

Oscar the Bold (well, he was bold as a kitten, he's kinda a weenie now) is next to me on the bed.  He is waiting for any sort of gesture from me that might be more petting.  Pretty much, this is the happiest he's ever been.  ON THE BED!!! WITH THE MAMA!!!  TWO HAND AFFECTION!!!

Poor Oscar.  Maybe he could still be bold if he got this level of attention and loving everyday.  Or not.

Fame! Power! Influence! Fortune!

And, most importantly, applause.

The Phenom pegged me years ago . . . I cook for the humans because I love the applause.  (A tap dancing monkey isn't that special for long.)  I think I've reached a whole new low/high (? who knows) on my "culinary skills."

Our cat, Louie, has had "pee pee" issues.  He's had two surgeries in the last 6 months and spent two months living with out old vet.  Our old vet retired, moved away, then started treating animals part time because retirement bored her to tears.  She lives about 4 hours away, but for the really serious stuff, it's worth going to her.  Although, she thought Louie was such an excellent cat, she didn't want to give him back.  (Louie rehabbed in our vet's home rather than in a cage in the clinic.)

Since his surgery, Louie has been on a special, expensive, diet.  Our vet advised us to mix some water into the food to encourage him to get more fluid intake, and thus keep peeing.

Twice, last week, The Phenom has informed me that Louie not only refused to eat what the Phenom fixed, but actually growled at it.  I've had no such issues with Louie.  Again, today, when I came in from work, The Phenom informed me that Louie had not eaten.

I saw that Phenom had just poured water in Louie's food dish, rather than mixing it up.  I took the food bowl, poured off some of the water, mixed it well, and put it down for Louie . . . and he ate every bit.

Poor critter doesn't realize that now, he'll always have to wait until I get home for his mid-day meal.  Little dork.

Vet Shamed

Sunday afternoon, we realized one of the cats was struggling . . . litter box issues.  It took us until the early hours of Monday to determine which one of the little fuzzbuckets was getting a free trip to the Vet.

It was Louie.  He has a wee uti.  The vet called me and said that there weren't crystals, so she thinks it was brought on by stress.  Yeah.  Stress, in this household?  Not for the cats.

He's on an anti-biotic and pain meds.  And we got several pages about reducing his anxiety and stress while creating a more stimulating environment for him.  She wants us to invest in videos of birds and fish that we can leave playing on the television when we leave the house.  I wanted to ask if she were aware that cats sleep 20 hours a day?

She also suggested a water fountain for the cats.  Which I bought.  Which they are terrified of . . . and which gives me a headache.

But, the best part of the conversation was her being shocked and disappointed that one of us doesn't stay home each day to keep the cats company.  When I explained that I was at work, she suggested Louie stay overnight a few nights so he could be watched.  Then, a couple days later, she called and wanted to know if perhaps my schedule had cleared up so I could be home with Louie, now?  I explained that we BOTH are out of the house from approximately 7:30am until around 5:00pm each day.  This seemed to worry her.  She seems to think that if one of isn't home during the day, it is something akin to forcing our cats into the risky world of being latch-key cats.

Because our cats want us to watch them sleep all day.

This is where I run, screaming, out the back door.

It has been a day.  Trust me on that.  I can't go into specifics, because it involves deals that aren't done yet.  But, I will surely deserve a frosty, adult beverage come 5pm Friday.  Speaking of frosty, adult beverages . . .  in this month's Beer of the Month shipment, there were "Applehead Ale" beers.  Seriously, and in a totally pleasant sort of way, it was beer that tasted of apple pie.  Not apple cider . . . APPLE PIE.  Sadly, I've already consumed those delights.  Perhaps just swigging bourbon from the bottle will be more in order by then.

I'm starting to get itchy for our annual June trip to NOLA.  I've already found our "new place."  I probably go to their menu and drink menu on their web site way too often to be healthy.  Phenom wishes we could take the pooch with us for the "yappy hour" menu for dogs.  We both intend to come back with a worm t-shirt.  We ate worms last summer at the insectarium for free.

Because we have discovered that drinking is even more fun when there is a game, we have decided that next trip we are going to "drink the rainbow."  Each day, we will pick a color and all drinks must be in that color family.  Purple is going to be hard . . . but I can't wait to try several grasshoppers on Green.

Lastly, I think the smell of nail polish makes cats insane.

Too Much Drama

Never did get our date today.  Random drama got in the way.

Just minutes before I was due to leave for our date, Phenom called.  He was panicked.  I assumed one of the cats was dead.  He kept repeating "she got tangled up" and I wondered which cat had strangled herself.  I could picture how horrible it must have been for Phenom to see it and be helpless.

No one died.

Our sweet, tiny, delicate siamese, Fleur di lis was playing and got tangled up in a cord.  When she realized she was stuck, she freaked out.  She went running through the house, Phenom trying to catch her, which probably freaked her out more.  Next thing he knew, she was crashing into a window.  She broke both a pane and the storm window.  Fortunately, the screen held.  Being stunned by the impact allowed Phenom to grab and free her.

As Phenom went to get the items needed to clean up the glass, he saw a trail of blood through the kitchen, into the laundry room, and over the dryer.  He called me.

We determined it wasn't Fleur who was hurt.  We found Louie limping and realized it was him.  He had gashed a paw.  I took him to the vet and they said they would need to sedate him to clean out any bits of glass and stitch up the "flap" (yes, they said FLAP) of skin that was opened up.

It took several hours for us to find all the cats.  They still seemed traumatized.  Phenom most of all.

Hopefully tomorrow, the glass people who didn't show up today will come fix the window.  How much longer before we get some holiday cheer?  This year has sucked.

Puddin' Head

This is one of the kittens born under our laundry room back in August.  I've started calling him Puddin' Head.    He's kinda thug.  He is very selfish with the food plate; often smacking at the other cats to keep them at bay as he scarfs food down as fast as he can.

I posted this picture of him on facebook the other night.  Within 15 minutes, he'd found a home.  This evening, I've brought him in so that he can become accustomed to being a pet, and learn what a litter box is. He would squall pitifully when we'd leave him in the bathroom, so he has spent much of the evening sleeping on us and purring like a well tuned mower.

The only hard thing is, by the time I leave Saturday morning to deliver him to his new home, Phenom will have become attached and will insist that this is the perfect cat, and accuse me of giving away the perfect cat.  Which is silly, since we all know Louie is the perfect cat.

Faithful companion

I appreciate loyalty.  I find that loyalty is often more abundant in the animal world than with humans.

This is Mr Peepers.  We named him Mr Peepers because he likes to sit in our windows and watch us.  He hangs out with Chester in the evenings.  I've "left the door open" a few times, and he shows no interest in being owned . . . even when it would mean soft places to sleep.

The Nursery

The root of the issue is that Phenom loves little furry things.  This is how we arrived at a household full of little furry things that grew up into fat, lazy, furry things.

Two years ago, a furry thing showed up on our back porch that was so skinny that Phenom thought it was a baby opossum.  It turned into a cat.  Then, that cat, about a year ago, had a litter of five kittens directly under a drain pipe, the day before a tropical storm hit.  She was ill equipped to be a mother, and ended up abandoning 4 of the 5 little furry things.  The one that survived, we found a loving home for the moment it could be taken from its mother.

Then, last spring, she had a litter of 3 little furry things.  She had them in the bushes just beyond the fence.  Each day, we could check on them but the fence was reassuring to the mother.  She did a good job with these furry things.  But, we still found a home for them.  They now are catching mice in the barns of a local farm.  (In fact, I have eggs in my fridge right now from the farm.)

Yesterday, I noticed that "'Possum" was skinny again.  When I came home from the office, Phenom told me to go stand in the laundry room.  Sure enough, I could hear little furry things squalling.  'Possum has made the space below the laundry room her nursery.

I don't mind.  When they squall, we know they are safe and when they quickly stop squalling, we know she's tending to them.  I just hope laundry day doesn't freak them out.  And, Phenom is hoping that they are as playful and friendly as the last ones.

Surrounded by addicts

We have a wee addiction problem running through our household.  And, I admit, I got them started and hooked.

Louie and Oscar have it the worst.  I didn't have the heart to tell Oscar he was trying to huff the wrong end of the tube.

Sad, really.

Winning

Ya'll knew I have a huge competitive streak, right?  I mean, I totally get that I'm the top monkey OF THE PLANET, but I also really, really like winning against humans.  This is why Phenom and I don't play board games or tennis anymore.  When we played tennis, I would end up imagining his head as the ball and send it sailing over the fence.

But, I will tell you how to win facebook.  Probably, if applied appropriately, win the internet.

First, folks on facebook love sappy.  So, post something really sweet about your lover.  Post about how you met or your first date or how you knew they were "the one."  MAD LIKES!!!  Pretty much, you will be the homecoming queen of facebook.

Follow up the sappy with photos of your cat.  Or your neighbor's cat, if you're allergic.  If you can catch the cat doing something uber cute, like sleeping or head tilted slightly while it decides which part of your face it wants to eat first, even better.

Thats it.  All you need . . . sappy posts about the love of your life and cat pictures. 

Spring Time

The pollen has hit us hard.  And, although we've been promised rain for the last several days, all we seem to get is a spitting that just makes the pollen stick even harder.

But, the good news is that the cucumbers, peas, and radishes are already popping up in the crop circle.  Admiring the freshly planted crop circle, last week, I realized that it was perhaps one of the few good things that came from a rather bad time a few years back.  I love planning what I'm going to plant each year, and I'm so proud of the veggies I pick.

Also, spring time brings out the sillies in our critters.  I let Chester have a "soft" toy, and it was all of 10 minutes before he tried to eat its head.

We have a free loader kitty I've taken a liking to.  We call him Mr Peepers because he likes to sit in our windows and watch us.  He thinks the dog is silly and has little to do with him, other than keeping an eye on him. . . . and judging him harshly.

The Drug Habit in my own House

I made a startling realization the other day, one of our cats is a drug addict.  The drug being catnip.

Her name is Booger.  She showed up on our drive way, unweaned and tiny.  We bottle fed her for the first couple of weeks, and I took her to the office with me.  She would spend 30 minutes stretches chasing her own tail on top of my desk.  She has always liked to have small, dark, cramped spaces to hide in, away from everyone.  We call these spaces "Booger places."  Currently, she wedges herself under the wine rack for much of the day.  Booger is affectionate in her own way.  She likes to be petted, but on her own terms.  She lives in fear of being picked up.  If your petting seems too similar to an action that maybe, perhaps, will lead to an attempt to pick her up, she bolts.

One way I like to make toys for the critters is to take smallish stuffed animals, open a seam, restuff it with catnip, and sew it up again.  Even better if the stuffed animal is a gerbil or mouse or bird.

Booger has taken to a duck stuffed with catnip.  She spends a good deal of time curled up with the duck.

Now, with humans who have a drug habit, they become cautionary tales for the rest of the bipeds.  Who hasn't seen the photos of pre and during addiction?  The shiny hair, the clear skin, the youthful expression replaced with splotches, balding spots, green or lost teeth, the dead look in the eyes. 

Not Booger.  Booger's addiction makes her more social.  No more inclined to be picked up, but more willing to socialize or even be seen by guests.  I think I need to make her a few more cat nip toys . . . perhaps shove a couple under the wine rack. 

The Little Things

I placed the order back in November. I've been in touch with the company a couple of times, inquiring about the status of my order. I've gotten rather annoyed. And, finally it arrived yesterday.

As I was unpacking the items that will become parts of Christmas packages for others, and our christmas cards, Stinky was drawn to the box. The box has become her home now. In fact, this morning, rather than follow me to the door and send me off with a bit of sweetness, she stayed in the box. She's in the box now.

So, really, it was more christmas gifts than even I had imagined.

Yo

You know the joke; how do you start a fight on the internet? Post something on the internet. Boom!

The last two weeks, I've been able to watch from the sidelines an full on, interwebs screaming match complete with people citing rules and people huffing and puffing. And what started the feud? An inter-office memo about a sale at Starbucks. (see, all you 99% were right . . . corporate America is evil.)

After hearing about the many, many people who felt their perspective was crucial to add into the mix, I couldn't help but think "first world problems, yo."

Here is the antedote to first world problems. Because, you know, cats have issues too. Especially cats with comfy homes and human faces to sleep on.