It’s been a frustrating couple of months. I agreed to allow that calico beast to share my domicile, eat my food, and drink out of my water fountains. [Management bought a second water fountain, so now I have two. Slight bonus there.] The last couple of weeks have seen real improvement in the beast’s general mood. I can walk by without getting my nose bopped — most of the time. And I only hiss and bop her back when she bops me first. Seriously, enough with the nose-bopping! <rolled eyes> For the most part, we’re co-existing well. The other day I even managed to sneak up on her while she was catnapping in the window seat. I sat there quietly until she rolled over and opened her eyes. At that point she came up on her claws and was too startled to hiss. Okay, so maybe I’m a bit of a pest. It is MY house, after all. She can just get over herself.
Eek! There’s a beast in my crow’s nest! Get it out! Get it out! Get it out! — Oh, for the love of catnip. Now it’s eating my food and drinking from my water fountain. What’s next, pooping in my litter box? Wait, there’s a second litter box. Hisss!!! I will not have it, I tell you! Make it stop! — I fuzzed my tail when you brought in that beast. I laid back my ears. I growled like a wolverine crossed with a grizzly bear. It was an awesome noise, even if I do say so myself. I’ve given full warning of my displeasure, and yet a week later that beast is still in my house, hogging my living room crow’s nest, eating my food, drinking my water, and she had the audacity to poop in my litter box this morning instead of hers. Okay, so maybe that was a protest on her part, because I’ve been laying poop-bombs in the middle of her dainty litter box. Just showing my displeasure. It’s my house. I have that right. Now the little minx is doing the same to me. On top of everything else, management has the gall to tell me to behave? I will not have such disrespect! — Wait, what do you mean she’s homeless? As in no place to live? Well, fiddlesticks. Now you’re playing on my sympathies. That’s not fair. <sigh> Okay, I’ll try to work this out, if you’ll make her stop bopping me on the nose every time I try to get close enough for a sniff. Come on, people. Work with me here. I’ll try, if she will. — And just for the record, I’m the beauty. She’s beast. <grrrrrr>
Here’s wishing everyone a safe and happy holiday season. Here I am on my new afghan. Nice bright colors, right? Well, it’s warm, too. Good thing, because the temperature in central Oklahoma got down to 5-degrees (F) the other night. Of course, that was outside and I’m cozy inside with the heater vents blowing on my favorite napping spots. Still, there was ice on the inside of the window sills a couple of mornings. Yep, I stuck my nose on the ice and got a big surprise. Jumped back and looked over my shoulder at Management, who had the gall to laugh at me. Seriously, that was cold on my nose. Well, at least I look handsome sitting on my new blanket. Don’t you agree?
What in the name of the Headless Horseman is that? Who put a blinking LED light in my pumpkin toy? Halloween 2016 is my fifth birthday, so lose the tricks and let me list the treats! First, I got a snazzy new stainless steel water fountain a few weeks back, because my old one gave up the ghost. I circled the new one for a few days and watched it from afar, just to make sure it didn’t do anything funny. After it passed the smell test, I graciously drank from it and found it to my liking. Kudos on the fountain. Scooter approved. There’s a colorful caterpillar plush toy now stretched across the bottom of the bookcase where I play, so my small toys no longer will roll beneath the shelf where I cannot reach to dig them out. Plus I have a new soft pet blanket for playing, lounging, and emergency cat-comfort during earthquakes. All in all, a pretty good fifth birthday. Happy Halloween!
It’s a cat thing. We leap onto a table or shelf, grabbing with sharp claws but too often winding up on the floor in a heap of fur and fabric. Leap! Skid! Crash! Cat in the floor! Call for TLC! Sound familiar? When management recently brought in this family heirloom, a small wood chest over a hundred years old and affectionately known as “Grandma’s button box,” I immediately claimed the top as my favorite new perch. It has a perfect Scooter-sized surface, and I can look around the corner to see what’s coming down the hallway. It was perfect, except for one thing. I would leap up on the chest and more than half the time slip back onto the floor wrapped in the little table runner. Solution? Management bought this weird rubbery backing that goes on the bottom of rugs to keep them from sliding on tile floors. Turns out it also works great for keeping coverings from sliding off tables and chests and shelves. Now can I leap onto the button box without fear of tumbling back onto the floor. Okay, that’s one problem solved. Next I have to figure out how to open those old wooden drawers. The wood knobs so far are proving cat-resistant, but I’m working on it….
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Look what management found hiding in a tote bag: my first mouse toy! Back in 2011 when I was just a few weeks old, I was dumped on a farm porch. Mema and Papa took me in, along with their cat Nancy Drew. They didn’t have any kitten toys on hand at the time, so Mema took this small piece of white rabbit fur and sewed it to look like a tiny mouse. My first mouse! I threw that thing all over the house, around furniture and across people’s laps. I chased it under chairs and behind couches. Then I went to live in my new place with Dave and Terri — or as I call them, maintenance and management. Somewhere in the move my little white mouse was lost. Then tonight, like a miracle, it fell out of a tote bag. Mouse is so tiny, just three inches long. When I was a kitten, it looked so much bigger. But I remembered Mouse. We had a good romp today. I tossed it and chased it. Then fell asleep with it. Management put Mouse in the desk drawer for safe keeping, until I need another good romp with it.
It’s Christmas Eve. Moose and I are waiting patiently for Santa. Here’s wishing all other cats out there a wonderful and safe holiday. Don’t climb the Christmas tree. Don’t eat the tinsel. Stay off the table and out of the pies. Be good, and maybe Santa will bring cat toys and tasty treats.
Here I am belly up on my Halloween birthday (that’s when we celebrate) present for 2015: a deep pile sherpa blanket. There’s a pretty giraffe pattern on the back, but that’s the slick side. I only care about the soft side. I would get up to show you more of the blanket, but honestly I’m just too comfy to bother. Take my word for it. It’s a warm, snuggly blanket and here just in time for the cooler days of fall. Now, shoo! You’re interrupting my nap.
I’ll sleep wherever I catwell choose. I’m not moving. Don’t ask again. You got up to get more of that nasty coffee stuff, so I claimed this nice warm seat. I’m a big boy, and this nice office chair with the backrest pillow and soft beach towel (nice touch on the beach towel) are super comfy. So, nope. Not moving. Go get that wooden chair by the piano. This seat is mine for the afternoon.