Remember my cat?

The one who tried to poison herself by licking the dog?

The one I frantically raced to the vet at 11pm at night?...





the one who has taken to SLEEPING in the dishrack?


Yeah, that one.

Two Lumps

Mar. 9th, 2007 09:44 pm
Mais Oui!
To the Feline DemiGods of the Household:

Yes. The dog has a ball. It's not a very interesting ball, but she apparently loves it as she has never loved any other toy--since the last one. This is why she hovers her nose over it and grumbles at you if you get too close. Take note, she does this to me too. She.is.a.dog. This is what they do.

She does not want you to touch her new ball. She does not want me to touch her new ball. She wants us to some how magically throw it so she can chase it without any of us touching it. Again, I repeat, She.is.a.dog. This is how they think.

She will get over it. In the meantime, quit antagonizing her. You may enjoy hearing her growl and whine. I do not. If she snaps at you I am going to giggle and point; not come to your rescue. Fair warning.

Signed,

The gift giver of toys, cat weed and gooshy food.
Dear Snuggle Bunnies:

Sammykins,

My dear, dear Buddha kitty. I really love it when you crawl under the covers and curl up next to my tummy and nap with me. I feel warm and safe and very much loved. You are the best kind of nap companion. Even if you do drool on my arm while you're there.


Frankie,

Pink nose princess, I'm so glad you climb down off your imperial throne once in a while and take pity on your poor mama. Especially when I'm kneeling in the bathroom and 'talking to Ralph on the big white phone.' Curling up on my bare feet to keep them warm while I'm tossing my cookies is very helpful. Just remember...Mama's ticklish, so no toe licking please. It messes with my aim when I'm trying to drown myself.

Love, Mom the bearer of all canned food.

What is It?

May. 7th, 2006 09:11 am
About velour blankets that seems to inspire love from aged kitty cats?
Frankie & Sammy,

I know you don't like it when I grab you and love on you and give you gushy kisses and THEN I hold you by the ruff of the neck and squirt that cold icky, smelly liquid flea stuff on the back of your neck.

I agree, it's quite evil of me to trick you like that. I'll live with consequences of my actions if you live with yours.

The reason I go to such elaborate trouble to hold you and squeeze this icky, cold, smelly stuff up on the back of your neck where you can't get to it is because you really, really, really, REALLY do not want to lick this stuff off.

1. It tastes terrible

2. If you lick it off it won't work as well and you'll be scratching like hell inside of a month

3. It makes you foam at the mouth

4. Did I mention it tastes terrible?

Frankie you do not earn extra points for encouraging your little brother to lick yours off for you. Nor do you earn extra points by sitting there and licking your paw, looking unconcerned as he runs circles in the kitchen, foaming at the mouth, and trying to get the taste of YOUR flea medication off his tongue.

BAD SISTER no gushy food for you tonight!
Dear Sammykins...


STOP!! KLEENEX THIEF!

I know mummy has a cold but you digging her dirty kleenex out of the bin to chew and shred them really grosses her out. Knock it off!
Dear Confused Feline:

Frankie kitty,

The rubber door stop does not yearn for you. It does not read feline inspired bodice ripping romance novels. I does not wait with heaving bosom for you to throw yourself on top of it, grab it lovingly between your paws and passionately kiss it and lick it to death.

Neither does the latex backed doormat.

Do you have any idea how amusing you look acting upon your weird little kitty fetishes? You get more action than I do.

Love,

The jealous she-thing who provides you objects d'fetish
I'm awake at 7 something. I actually don't need to be awake this soon but I am. What woke me up was this very unusual and nearly forgotten object:
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SUNSHINE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Not only that, it looks like we might keep most of it through this weekend. It figures at the tail-end of [livejournal.com profile] quirkypandacub's visit we FINALLY get a break in the weather.

I read last night that we have 390" of snow in Donner Pass right now. Our water tables are at 100% and the Snow Pac we've received just since 1 March will give us enough water for two years now.

Blah de blah blah de blah blah...you say. people forget: that 3/4ths of this state is desert, really. The entire central valley is cultivated because of an elaborate water system and irrigation. Rain stops May 31st and we don't see it again until October 31st. As much as I love to bitch about soggy weather, when we don't have it, we're in trouble.

The cats are zooming about the apartment in the sunshine this morning. They really like the change in the weather. The dork dog and I went for a nice long walkie this morning, 7 or 8 blocks. It felt good to get out in the sun.

Now we sit, me with coffee, the cats catching sunbeams on the floor, the dork dog chewing on her foot at the end of the bed. A peaceful tableau.

For a few hours at least. Until I have to corral the cats into the bathroom again :) and sequester me and the dork dog up in the comfy chair again.

Thank god all this floor mess is almost over!

LOL Sammy has the small rectangular pumice stone that came off my foot brush on the tiles in the hallway and he's batting it around like a hockey puck!

I know, only I would find that cute.
Dear Sammykins,

Mommy missed you too, no really I did! I love your headbutting and snogs and how you show your appreciation and how much you missed me while I was gone, but really, after 3 hours...I need you to quit. It's 3am and we both need to sleep before I kill you. You can love on me again in a few hours, really. I promise, I'm not going anywhere until I have to go to work--which is why I may have to kill you now.

Dear Frankenkitty,

Mommy missed you too honey. We've been through this now for 10 years. Occasionally I'm gone. I always make sure you have people to care for you and love on you in my absence. Seriously, do you think they just happen to show up and then just happen to provide you food and scritches, fresh water and a clean litter box? Oh wait--you probably do.

Still, I really don't enjoy your standard greeting when I come home. You insist on following me from room to room so that you can sit in an obvious spot with your back to me and ignore me in a very obvious way. Ooooh yes, bad mommy; put me in my place. That whole scene might be more effective if you didn't forget you're mad at me at 3am when I get up to go to the bathroom and you come dashing in to flop down on my feet and meow for a belly rub like you always do. Though I admit, when you realize your mistake the look on your furry face is priceless. By the time I'm back in bed, you're back to sitting in the middle of the room with your back to me.

Consider me suitably contrite. When I get home tonight you shall have the holy grail: soft cat food.

Love, Mommy
One night we heard screeching, and Archie came back with a cut on his ear. We admonished him, as though admonishing a cat ever did any good. Perfectly reasonable people say complete English sentences to cats, and then look at them sharply to make sure they've understood. People who own pets: largely nuts.
Ick...Ouch...Ug!

Dear Samster,

Honey, I'm glad you're feeling more settled in your new house now. We all are. I love when you want to snog on mommy, really I do, but the next time you want to give me kisses and loving could you try NOT smearing your wet nose ALL over the lenses of my glasses?!

Oh and kneading is fine...but not on my nose. And stop playing with that kleenex, I'm trying to stop the bleeding.

As you launch yourself off my lap--all 22lbs of you, I realize you need to go on a diet. No, seriously honey. You're the Paul Prudenhome of cats. I either put you on a diet or I buy you a go-kart.

Love,

She who bleeds blindly for you. Also known as 'the convenient launch pad'.
Frankie,

Gravity may be your friend, but my chest has a maximum weight limit for just how much cat hair can accumulate on it. I know you're stressed out because mommy's packing and you realize you're going to have to leave your little cottage, but seriously...attaching yourself to my chest and increasing your weight through some weird secret science, is NOT going to stop the process. I'd throw you off RIGHT NOW, ceptin, it's 35 fricken degrees and I'm cold.

Just wait until tomorrow.

Bruuuahhaha.

Mommy

P.S. Don't listen to your brother--we both know he was (shesssh) ADOPTED!
Dear Lardbutt,

Yeah you...22 lb lazy bum. You cry and hiss and generally pull a mule on every time the dork dog goes near your crunchies. So I clear a space, place your food up where you can reach it and she can't. I even give you PERMISSION to get up on that section of the kitchen counter to eat and what do you do?

You crouch down on the floor and hoover through HER crunchies. Then you get mad when she comes over and noses you away without so much as a growl.

It's not HER fault you don't like gravity and hate to launch your fat ass up off the floor to the counter top. You can do it and on first try too--I've seen you! You're just too lazy.

Know what, I'm putting all the food back on the floor again. You can fight your own fight. Maybe it'll trim you up a bit. Welcome to Darwin's world my Sammykins!

Love,

Your fed up nutritional substance dealer
aka MOM

Two Lumps

Feb. 4th, 2006 09:17 pm
I need to take Cheeses into my heart

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