Just before going off to internship one afternoon, Smee came up and curled up around my head as I sat on the couch. I had the camera with me so I took some pictures of us. Do you see the familial resemblance? Smee and I both have blue eyes, those his are much bluer and prettier than mine.
Last night Pooky and I were eating some accumulated leftovers for our respective dinners. I went with the cheesy bites pizza from Pizza Hut and he was enjoying the teriyaki from our favorite teriyaki restaurant. Now, being I am a dedicated feline maintenance worker, Mr. Doo typically either lays on the table next to me or he perches himself like a vulture and looms over my meal plate. Last night was no exception. He was staring at my pizza and edging his nose onto my plate if I didn't keep up a high guard.
Finally, toward the end of eating I picked off a piece of the ham (he loves ham by the way—he will abdicate his little feline soul for ham) and gave it to him. I often will share little bits of my food with him because he patiently waits for it. He doesn't exactly steal my food but he is nonetheless a snark.
Everything was as it should be. Mr. Doo took his ham and ate it, then all of a sudden he made a "yak" sound (he seldom yaks) and up he threw the ham piece back onto my dinner plate along with a chunk of cat fur! Yuck! Yuck! Yuck! Yuck! Mr. Doo seldom has furballs so I was both surprised by the regurgitation of one and his incredible aim of landing it right on my plate! Thankfully none of my food was on the plate!
I'm not the faint of heart type of person; with all of my bowel issues I've seen, smelled, and tasted some bodily fluids that most people don't have the 'pleasure' of knowing, but seeing that furball on my plate where food had been was enough. Dinner ended abruptly.
As for Mr. Doo. He was all right. He then joined us as we attempted to slaughter each other playing Scrabble using Scrabble dictionairies. There was no further incident of yaking.
Queen of the Lizard People
Take me to your leader
Space Alien Ming
I'm not a germ, I'm not a bug
I came upon Miss Ming sleeping upon some pink blankets and I snuck a few pictures of her while she basked in her Inner Sanctum. Miss Ming was not fond of the disturbance and chirped and mewed at me to leave her alone! She is quite the talkative gal! I'm certain she is the type of princess who could feel the pea under 100 mattresses. She struts through the house with such presence and authority that even I feel that I should genuflect as she passes me by.
Gladly do I give up my role as Lady of the House and transfer all authority to Madam Ming. (Not that I ever had the role as Lady of the House. I tend to think that role was Mr. Doo's but even he has been usurped!)
All who read this post, bow down very low to Madam Ming! You are not worthy! Be humble in her mighty presence! Bask in her glory and wisdom! Give all tuna to her!
Happy Birthday, Mr. Doo!
While Mr. Doo's exact birthday is unknown, I figure that this day is just as good as any for my evil beast to have his special day remembering the anniversary of his evil presence coming into the world! It has been genetically proven that Mr. Doo possesses the Evil Gene, thereby making him Evil.
I have done my part of singing "Happy Birthday" to him and giving him his morning can of tuna. He also received a new toy mouse which he prompted showed no interest in.
In order to recruit you into joining in on the celebration of Mr. Doo's life, take a moment and complete this quiz to find out if you are "Mr. Doo Approved"!
When I realized that within less than a week I'll be away from Smee, my heart sank and I began to miss my Ami in a fierce kind of way. I think he has sensed with his magic feline ESP that I will be away for awhile and yesterday he pasted himself to me, requiring more love than usual. He has come to sleep on me and he embeds himself into the blankets around my chest. I tell Smee that I wish I could stow him away and he could go with me, but Smee's nerves are on the outside—he wouldn't travel well.
Therefore, I've asked Pooky to keep a log of Smee's suffering. It's a simple daily scale of 1-10, with 10 being the worst kind of suffering possible. Smee probably won't reach a rating of 10 because in the evenings, Smee lays on Pooky's lap and he accepts the love from Pooky. But, Pooky won't allow the signature Smee nose licking. Smee is a cleaner and I indulge his need to do a little maintainenance on my nose and ear lobes. (I do hold my breath because he does eat tuna.)
The other beasties will be missed as well, but I am confident that their levels of suffering will not be as great. Theodore Montague has recently taken to coming to my lap for petting, Stash still waits to come to my lap just at the moment I bring out my crocheting, and Little Ming pays her zinging respects in a hurry. Messrs Doo & B don't come to the lap for love—it's not their style, but they do look to me to use my opposable thumbs and open the tuna cans.
Yes, I have to confess I'll miss the beasties slightly more than Pooky. The reason being is that I can call and talk to Pooky. I can ask him if he is suffering, coo at him, and he'll know that I am coming back. I cannot do the same with Smee and the others.
I do hope that Pooky isn't suffocated by having a cat pile of all six of them on the bed when he sleeps. There's a total of 81 pounds of cat to be reckoned with. I wonder what it would sound like if all 6 were to purr loudly at the same time?
Pooky took Little Ming into the vet this morning for her spaying, and the vet gave her a quick exam. The vet says that Little Ming is about 5 months old! Which I find hard to believe because she is so tiny! The vet is basing this age claim on her teeth. Her baby teeth have come out and she's getting her adult teeth.
Which means she's going to be a small cat compared to the boys, but since she is now getting tuna (which is like a feline steroid) she may grow a little larger. One thing that a cat needs to grow is good nutrition. She won't suffer for a good meal here as I buy the expensive kibble at the pet store and make sure the food dishes are refilled every other day.
At the vet she'll be giving the full service. She'll get her shots, spayed, and will be micro-chipped to let it be known she belongs to someone. I wonder a little about her previous home, if the original owners were ever looking for her?
Now that she is at the vet's, the boys don't know what to do with themselves, so they are all laying on the floor staring blankly. Little Ming would zoom around and get them to move and play. There was almost a mutiny this morning because we had to remove all food and water for preparation for Little Ming's surgery. It was scary to wake-up to 6 hungry, demanding cats all looking sinister at us!
She is Queen
After searching for kitten's original owners and not receiving any phone calls, we have decided that the little seedling will be ours. Of course this means she needs a name, thus, I have decided that she'll be Miss Chatelaine Ming, or since Pooky said that he'll never remember "chatelaine" she'll simply be called Ming.Since she is ruler of the house, Miss Chatelaine really fits her personality. I've always wanted to name a cat Ming, thinking it would be a great name for a Siamese cat. Well, though she isn't Siamese, Ming seems to fit her.
Tomorrow Little Ming goes in to be spayed. She'll be micro-chipped and sexual organs clipped. I have a feeling that the boys will be looking for her. When Pooky took her over to the vet's briefly to see if she was chipped, Stash and Teddy were looking for her.
All cats now are getting along famously. There are moments of rough playing, but Little Ming holds her own. I caught her and Smee snuggly sleeping together upstairs. Smee cleans her and is definitely taking on the role of big brother. I'm proud of Smee!
I've uploaded more pictures of Miss Ming at her own photo album. There's a picture or two of Stash, too!
Last night Kitten made her way onto the bed and slept next to me for most of the night. This caused Smee to not join me and I was upset about that because I miss my Ecru Wonder coming to hatch my head. Kitten knew exactly how to snuggle up to me and give a loud, alluring purr. She may not appreciate the boys, but she does know how to charm humans!
This morning she wasted no time racing downstairs with the usual parade of stampeding cats going to the Tuna Plate. She created a stir when she sidled up to the plate to eat her share. Mr. Doo, Mr. B, and Stash all growled in alarm at her audacity to eat from the plate, but she growled right back! She stood her ground and the boys left the plate allowing her to eat until she almost finished off all that remained.
Today she has tried to warm up to the boys, but her previous hissing and growling behaviors has made the boys afraid of her. It's a slow and cautious testing between both Kitten and Boys to see if an agreement will be made about being friendly to each other. She wants to play and be loving now, and this confuses the boys. I'm sure eventually it will be figured out that she is a frisky kitten that wants to join in, and she won't be bullied.
Lost & Found
I got a call last night at about 5:30 from Pooky saying that a kitten was found in the Home Depot parking lot and could I bring over one of the cat carriers for it? So I went over and there was this kitten who could be the reincarnation of my Matriarch, also known as Majesty, who passed on about a year ago.Kitten has a collar, looks like she belonged to somebody, but how she came to be in the HD parking lot remains unknown. Efforts were made to locate the owner last night, but no one reported a missing kitten. There's Wal-Mart next door to HD, so the kitten could have also wondered over from there. We contacted the local animal shelter to report the kitten and so far no one has reported her missing. We tried to place an ad in the local paper but they are only open on the weekdays, so at the very least it looks like we're providing Kitten with accommodations for the time being.
But let's be real about this. Each day we have her, the chances of her becoming a new edition increase. This morning I said her name should be Griselda since she growls a lot at the other cats making a "grizz"-ing sound.Pooky says not to name her because it means we'll get attached to her. She is fierce and likes to make gutteral noises and isn't afraid to hiss, yet with people she purrs loudly and instantly.
This morning she discovered the Tuna Plate and inhaled the remaining tuna that the boys left. Mr. Doo was displeased at her eating the tuna, but I reassured him that we have two giant stacks of tuna and that he could share a little with her.
It creeps me out how much Kitten looks like my Matriarch. The personality so far is somewhat alike—the Matriarch was loving, but not prone to growling and hissing. I tend to think that Kitten was brought our way because recently Pooky has been having kitten lust and was talking about adopting a kitten. As the saying goes, ask and ye shall receive—kittens that is.
From left to right: Muggins the Second, Foof, Static, and Binny (also known as "Nipper"). Some kitties and doggies were too shy to be photographed, so I shall provide an honorable mention to felines Ellie, and Precious, and the seven additional doggies whose names I forget, but may include Lily, Markus, Bo-Jangles, and others.
All beasties made my visit that much more enjoyable as I was able to have a little kitty love (and puppy love) easing the missing of Smee and gang so that I would not spend the entire trip lamenting about my ecru baby, Prince of Darkness, etc.
Assorted cat pictures taken today.
They all appear to have a guilty or conspiring look; perhaps it is that they didn't care to pose for the camera.
I can't think of a witty caption. If you've got one, share it in the comments!
You are under the spell of my awesome mind powers!
You will become my willing thrall!
Give all tuna to me!
I am slow to find things on the Internet. That's why I have blog friends. Through them I discover way-cool things to waste spend my time with. From Patent Princess I discovered a site that is like MySpace.com for cats called Catster.
I have since spent the afternoon making pages for all five wonder beasties! Stop by and check out their unique pages!
Mr. Doo was caught hanging out in the fridge. It may seem that he was inside of it to keep cool, but actually he went in with a different plan. He was after the lettuce!
When Smee is overwhelmed with love and affection, his eyes get heavy and he will dip his head down to the side. He'll dip a few times before totally falling over for a blissful tummy rub. Here he is starting to dip with love. I think the love gets so strong it knocks him over.
My Smee-Ami
To celebrate the anniversary of discovering the kittens and rescuing them from certain death, let's have a fun-filled quiz to test your knowledge of each respective beastie! Note: You can answer via e-mail or by using the comments.
1. What is Smee's first name?
a. Luck Dragon
b. Mister
c. He is just Smee
2. What is Smee's nickname?
a. Smee-Baby-Smee
b. The Ami
c. both a and b
3. What is "Stash" short for?
a. Stash-Attack
b. Moustache
c. Stash-a-magee
4. How long is Stash's tail?
a. half-length
b. full-length
c. crooked
5. What is Theodore Montague's favorite snack?
a. tuna crunchies
b. potato chips
c. salmon snacks
6. Often Theodore thinks he is a:
a. sea otter
b. teddy bear
c. prairie dog
7. Who weighed the least as a kitten?
a. Teddy
b. Smee
c. Stash
8. Who weighs the most now?
a. Teddy
b. Smee
c. Stash
9. Which of the three is most like Mister Doo?
a. Smee
b. Stash
c. Theodore Montague
10. Who is most likely to pass gas while being loved?
a. Teddy
b. Smee
c. Stash
Mister Doo has been a member of Postcrossing long enough now to realize that it is really the national pasttime of Finland. Other than that, he's received a rather positve response from fellow global citizens, and the species barrier has been harmoniously crossed to the mutual pleasure of both. People like sending him a card and so far he has been happy to share his life of suffering (only one can of tuna a day!) with absolute strangers. He divulges that his hobbies are attacking clean laundry, chattering at birds, and slaying his fellow cats. What he doesn't inform his postcard recipient of is his plan for total world domination. There is only so much space on a postcard, and since I lack the skills to write an entire poem on a grain of rice, which is what I'd need to be able to do if I were to write his manifesto on a postcard, he is mostly pleased with my pathetic efforts.
The trio at about one month old. They all look so small and delicate!
A Very Happy Birthday, My Babies!
The kittens,Smee, Stash, and Theodore Montague, will celebrate their first birthday, transitioning from kittenhood into official cat-dom!They would welcome birthday wishes from you and kindly thank you for your acknowledgement of their special milestone birthday! Click on their name to send them an e-mail: Smee * Stash * Theodore Montague
Friends of Smee, Stash, and Theodore Montague
Andrea | David, Kari, the boy, and Hambut | Topper, Arnold, Bat and Ash and our Human Sara l BB, Tiger, Tux and Goofball (and the humans too but they don't really count do they?) | SheCrochets | Ryaira
As it is the usual routine at Pearl House, when I come downstairs in the morning Mr. Doo swarms me for his daily feast of tuna. Today he was vocalizing in such a manner that it made me think: He sounds like Katharine Hepburn meowing! Now, I've never heard Katharine Hepburn meow, so I am making a big leap in how she would actually sound. Something about Mr. Doo's tone and inflection struck me as being Katharine Hepburn-esque. Maybe Mr. Doo was briefly channeling the spirit of Katharine? He does have awesome mind powers!
Other things in kitty-land of note: Theodore Montague is currently in a wild mode, attacking all feet once on the bed. Stash-a-Magee is his slinky self, and Smee-Ami requires his daily Smee-Love. Mr. B has been mellow at times, requiring affection, but he is his grouchy self to the kittens if they disturb him too much.
The recent cold spell has caused the cats to sleep on the bed, stealing the heat from the heated mattress pad. I've awoke too many times covered in cat! I'm still trying to figure out why an animal covered in such a nice fur coat needs to steal heat. It's one of the things that makes a cat most mysterious!
Happy 4th Birthday Mr. Doo!
I wished Mr. Doo a Happy Birthday this morning and sang to him, calling him The Prince of Darkness. Now, you might wonder why I regard him evil, and what that all means. Do I think he is truly sinister? No, not really. He is spirited and full of personality. Too much personality for a cat. His evil is in the spirit of Baby Stewie.
I'd like to share the story of Mr. Doo. I've not told it and I think it would be most fitting today.
Four years ago around this time, Pooky and I were celebrating our first anniversary of being a couple. It was then that we knew we'd be moving to Washington and we agreed that we'd have a cat once again once we settled into our new living arrangements. We had lost his cat, Roo, when we went to visit my mother for two weeks. He wandered off from the house (he was indoor/outdoor) and I tend to think he met his fate through an encounter with a larger animal. He was always getting to scrapes with something.
I knew that I wanted a white with black spots styled cat. I fell in love with one while visiting a farm a friend lived on in New Jersey. I even have a picture of that kitty. Now, I also knew that the next cat I had I'd name him Fez. Usually I don't pre-name my kitties, but this time I just had to name a kitty Fez.
Come the merry month of May we traveled across the country and we settled into the Seattle area around the first of June. After a week of being in our apartment Pooky announced we could go look for a cat. We tried the animal shelters but none struck me as Fez. We tried a pet store and they had one black kitten that looked sickly and I didn't think he looked like a Fez.
Fearing that we'd never find a cat, I started to despair. But Pooky said we should go back to the pet store as he had a feeling. When we returned they suddendly had a bunch of kittens! Three of them were white with light gray patches, the black one was still there, and then in the middle was this large cat that had white with black patches and it was playing with the others. I thought the big cat was the mother, but I also knew that this was THE cat I had been looking for!
Pooky doesn't like female cats, says their personalities are different than a male, which is true. So my hopes of taking home this perfectly colored kitty was slim. Someone looking at the kittens asked the clerk if the big cat was the mother. She replied no, that he was an older kitten. My ears perked up! It was a male cat, and he was available!
So I asked immediately if I could hold him. She brought him out and put him in my arms. He purred loudly at me and I just knew: This was Fez! $99 later we had him in a box to take home. On the drive home he got upset about being in the box and he started to get evil. I wondered if this kitty was going to be one of those wild kind that always scratch and hiss, never permitting affection. He was 4 months old, whereas the other kittens in the shop were 8 weeks. Had he been previously adopted and returned?
I finally let him out of the box and he was happier. When we got him home we turned him loose and he followed me into the bedroom and helped me fold clothes and put them away. He helped by sitting on the clothes. By the end of the evening I was looking forward to him sleeping with us on the bed. NOT! He came up on the bed and immediately started to shred my feet!
It became his nightly ritual. He would stalk me from the bathroom, run and pounce on me once I turned off the light, then he'd attack me feet. He would then be tossed from the bedroom so we could sleep without fear of losing a toe. During the day he would run through the apartment gripping the carpet as he ran, and he'd fly across the furniture. Pooky would play with him and get him to go in circles. Fez was a ball of feline fury—it was apparent he possessed a strong evil gene. But I loved him!
He was fearless. One day his curiosity got the best of him and he joined me while I was taking a shower. He would climb up Pooky's back. He would sit on the dining room table and watch us eat our meals. He was determined to escape, too!
One day I realized that Fez had grown up into Mr. Doo. He had celebrated his first birthday and he had a more distinguished air about him. I also had realized that he needed feline companionship so when I saw someone was giving away free kittens, that's how we got Mr. B (Pair of Eyes) and that's a completely different story in itself.
I have found Mr. Doo's birthday present—the one that I would get for him if I stopped being so selfish by buying yarn, sending out Shrone gifts, having Secret Pals, eating food, using the electricity, surfing the Internet, watching DVDs, playing the cello, and driving a car.
Yet, while I think this would be a gift fitting to honor Mr. Doo's majesty, I tend to think he would appreciate more having his own Universe to rule and dominate—or perhaps he'd better enjoy his own throne to perch upon and loom down and glower at his minions and unworthy subjects? I wonder if there are crowns that would fit a cat's head?
Though I am sure Mr. Doo would like to spontaneously have the neighborhood German shepard burst into flames via the use of his awesome mind powers, the gift that we'll give Mr. Doo this year will be a homemade catwalk to connect the two cabinets in the kitchen. Thus, if Mr. Doo gives his Disapproval of the gift the other beasties can use it.
I did hint that Mr. Doo may receive his own can of tuna for his birthday, but when I discussed this with him he gave a disinterested look. His eyes indicated he'd much rather have Total World Domination or endless tummy rubs. The two ideas are expressed similarly upon his face.
In human years Mr. Doo will be turning between 32 and 27 years old, making him my age cohort. He already needs a tummy tuck or a truss. His belly keeps sagging. If I could, I'd repeal gravity so that not only could Mr. Doo be spared the embarrassment of a drooping middle, but that my boobs might go back up on my chest.
Happy 4th Birthday Mr. Doo!
February 12th marks a very special day! This is your chance to pay homage to Mr. Doo by wishing him a very happy 4th birthday! Send him an e-card, but better yet, spend a few bucks and mail him a can of tuna, and if you are feeling really generous, consider sending him catnip or his favorite snacks: Whisker Lickin's Tuna crunchies!
Mr. Doo has awesome mind powers and will know who you are if you fail to at least send him an e-card! He even has his own gmail account to facilitate your blessings, tributes, and worship to him. You may even want to go crazy and send him a real snail mail birthday card or postcard. He'll gladly give you his mailing address upon request. (No, he doesn't have his own post office box—yet!)
There are benefits to you bestowing a little worship his way!
- You may someday win the lottery!
- You can brag to friends how you sent somebody's cat that you never met something for his birthday!
- You'll be able to look at yourself in the mirror and know you've done right by Mr. Doo!
- Most tuna is now dolphin safe so you're protecting the environment!
- Mr. Doo would remember you on your birthday (well, maybe not)
- He is more evil than you and has better mind powers
- You would spend more money on buying a latte or skein of yarn
- This counts as a random act of kindness so you can negate some karma or move ahead one person in line at the Pearly Gates
- Mr. Doo may purr with excitement over all of the attention!
But wait, there's more! Mr. Doo would appreciate it if you mentioned his upcoming birthday on your blog, in fact cut and paste any or all of this entry so that his birthday can reach as many people as it possibly can through all of Blogdom!
Written and posted for your amusement and entertainment. Sending a birthday wish to Mr. Doo in no way guarantees you'll win the lottery, spend less money than you would on espresso drinks or skeins of yarn, nor will improve your spiritual standing, save the environment, or enable you to live with a guilty conscience. There is a small possibility that Mr. Doo will actually purr over your thoughtfulness and generosity. All other claims made in this post were purposefully made to make you smile, if not laugh. Have an ordinary day!
Mr. Doo's Admirers
Noricum * Deneen * Amy * Mistfit * Sherry * Tiff * Marvie * Joy * Sara * Kimberly * Stacey * Amanda * Pooky * Kari * Pam * Natasha * Dani * Renee * My Kick-Ass Secret Pal! * Kathy * Melissa * Hunny * Crochet Queen (Sharon) *He doesn't like tuna but he loves potatoes. He lies on his back 80% of the time. He shares a surname with a former British earl. His tail is naturally bent into two places giving it a corkscrew like appearance. On the hierarchy of cats (with Lord Doo topping the list) he isn't even on the list. He is none other than Theodore Montague, now with his own spectacular photo layout!!
Once in awhile a mutant is born. Not quite fitting in with its species it believes it is another creature. Demonstrated by behavior and preferences, the signs are readily apparent that the animal in question has an identity crisis. Such is the fate of Theodore Montague. He lays on his back viewing the world upside down. It is no wonder then that he doesn't act like a typical cat, running to the sound of the tuna can's seal breaking!
Yet, Theodore is loved for all of his idiosyncracies, even that really nasty one where he tries to suckle exposed skin. One might pause to wonder what goes through his upside down mind...he dreams of attacking the world's largest potato!
The ever mysterious, ever unknowable Mr. B. Is he more than just a pair of yellow eyes lurking in the shadows? Does he purposefully blend in to be invisible? Only the shadows know...
Enter into his darkness if you dare...Pull back the veil of mystery and step into the night...Gaze into his yellow eyes to discover ancient secrets of Bast and why cats have nine lives...Become one with The Void...Journey to the center of the Universe...
Most of the Universe is composed of what scientists call Dark Matter—the source of which is Gato Negro: Dos Ojos!
Are you ready for some Smee cuteness? I broke out the camera to see if I could capture him not looking angry, and I was able to obtain proof that there are many faces of Smee!
Check out Smee's album, and feel free to rate them and also to leave comments! (Hint: I want you to rate them and leave comments!)
My sister gave me the gift for Xmas of going to the local "paint a piece of pottery" store and I decided well in advance that I'd make a new tuna plater for the beasties. They needed a larger vessel in which to enjoy the daily catch. I found the right sized plater and decorated it with appropriate nautical images, and then did my own Shrone embellishments of pink sky and floating cat head with large, red heart.
There are stamps to help the less artistically inclined so I relied heavily upon them to accomplish my design. The writing I did myself since I have spent years studying calligraphy. It is much harder to achieve perfect letters while using a paint bottle, but it came out good. The top is legible, but the bottom of the plate says: "and has come into harbor!"
The wonder beasties seem to not care that they are no longer crowded at the tuna trough. All that matters is that there is tuna and plenty of it! In fact Gato Diablo (aka Mr. Doo) has been howling for second and third cans of tuna, but I have not given into his demands. (I may come to regret this. He was using his spooky action at a distance mind powers the other night while atop the fridge. He was staring at Pooky and I with the unmistakable look of: Die! We of course didn't comply with his awesome mind powers.)
Painting pottery is fun and addicting. I wish I could go back and paint countless additional pieces, but will have to settle for awhile with the tuna plater. I do want to make Shrone-ware. I have in mind the perfect mug idea.
It would seem that in about fifteen years I'll be getting Mr. Doo taxidermed, since the idea of having him permanently positioned in one of his lurking or looming modes has been warmly received! When I had spoken my idea aloud to Pooky, he thought I was nuts, and asked me to change the subject, as I guess he doesn't share in the morbid hilarity of having Mr. Doo immortalized and frightening the bejesus of unsuspecting guests.
Noricum's idea of placing him on a bookcase is "excellent" as Mr. C. Montgomery Burns would say. I can see a nice antique bookcase with Mr. Doo poised on top. I wonder if there would be anyway a purring mechanism could be installed in him so if someone touches him (thinking he is alive) that he'd gently purr at them? I'm sure anything can be arranged if you have the money for it.
Mr. Doo is one of those quietly purring cats. You have to lay your ear on his body to make sure he is purring. He's always been stingy with his purr. Though he does meow quite a bit at tuna time and sometimes just because. He meows when he is slaying the other cats. It's weird how he "talks" to them. I'm sure a feline translator would have a heyday if such a thing existed.
Every morning there is a ritual. During the night the Tuna Boat sets sail to harvest only the cheapest, stinkiest grade of tuna available at my local Wal-Mart or Costco. Whatever falls into the massive net (old boots, hooves, a crusty sailor, 1950 Chevy, medical waste, and possibly tuna) is brought aboard and canned. In the morning the tuna trawler comes into port and the beasties (all but Theodore Montague) swarm the hallow cupboard where the tuna cans live.
A hand can-opener does the honor of releasing the sea-death smell from the Chicken of the Sea can. The beasties are trained to this sound. As I make my way to their dining area, all of them hover in my pathway—I am certain I will succumb to a painful landing on top of them one day, but for now I scream at them, "Don't make me fall on you! You all know you want me as your servant and to never evolve opposable thumbs!" OK, I only say the first part, but think the second in my mind.
For unknowable reasons, Theodore Montague joins in the meowing and hovering, but then will lay off away from his bretheren and watch them eat their allotment of heavy metals, sea death, and tuna. Mr. Doo only laps up the tuna juice and then has a morsel of the fish. Stash is usually the last to finish eating, while Mr. B and Smee typically get into a hiss-and-strike confrontation.
Experience the joy from my perspective with this QuickTime movie. Watch the tuna descend from the heavens! It is about 4MB in size.
If you have a slow connection you can play Guess Whose Tail? instead and submit your answers in the comments.
My mom stopped by yesterday. She's out of the hospital (obviously) and remarks that getting around is a chore, but she's the determined type and won't take it easy. She does have the LYS to run and each day the shop is closed is money that is lost. Anyhoo...when she was here Mr. Doo made his appearance and she said he was fat! I ask you, does Mr. Doo look fat?
He does weigh about 20 pounds, and he has the typical "waddle" at the back end of his undercarriage that adult cats get when they have been fixed, and he's got a bit of a turkey neck on his chest when he positions himself just so, but when I look at his profile to see if he bulges excessively on his sides, he actually sinks in at the back and his chest is sturdy.
Of course when he sprawls out and is in his boneless amorphous form his tummy oozes out like pancake batter in a frying pan, but all cats look bigger when they ooze!
I just happened to come upon a picture of Smee as a kitten and then one I took of him recently. He's gotten so big! I almost don't remember the tiny little fuzzball! He's my Smee-Ami and my Smee-Baby-Smee! I love to cuddle him and he cleans me with his sandpaper tongue. His bell-clapper tail is his trademark feature. I'm smitten with Smee.
Last night I was doing some laundry and Pooky was in the basement having a smoke. All of the cats joined us. Mr. Doo was investigating the dryer. He often takes upon himself these investigations and conducts them in such a way that it is like I am being inspected by a lunatic with credentials. Anyhow, I tossed in the wet clothes around him and went about my business. I knew he would leave the dryer so I didn't do a cat check. I closed it up and turned it on and went over to Pooky to have a bit of small talk.
I heard a strange thumping noise coming from the dryer, like when you dry sneakers. I thought it was strange because I had only put in shirts. Then it hit me: cat in the dryer! But I was looking at Mr. Doo when I realized it!
Upon opening the door I see a very scared Mr. Smee as if one of his nine lives had just expired. Poor baby was a streak of fur out of the room and onto the stairs. I made my way over to him for comforting. He was saucer-eyed and breathing heavily. I picked him up and soothed his little body. His nerves were on the outside for a few minutes. He eventually eased his way back into the fold.
It's a given he'll most likely not join Mr. Doo again on an investigation of the dryer!
I decided to take a bath. You recall that 70s commercial about a woman who was having a hectic day and all she could think about was, "Calgon, take me away!" Well, sans the bubble bath, I drew myself up a nice, hot bath and added in some lavendar salts. Now, I decided to leave the door open (first mistake) because I had over-heated the room by closing it and having the heat on.
As the water was filling, Mr. Montague decided he'd hop in. He isn't afraid of water, so I found him with his paws totally covered...but that isn't the reason for this entry.
As I was trying to soak, sure enough, those wet paws of him trying to balance on wet fiberglass causes him to fall in. No surprise there. I could see it coming and kept chasing him off, but what was interesting was that when he fell in, he stayed in for a moment before realizing that he needed to get out. He was very calm about it. Mr. Doo was watching at the time. I don't think that had any bearing on Mr. Montague's reaction. Mr. Montague loves water!
Stash decided he needed to check out the big pool of water and he kept balancing himself on the edge. I kept chasing him away, but he wouldn't listen to me and he kept returning. Just as I was getting into the comfort of the bath and reading my book, I look up and see Stash perched down where I couldn't reach him, and then from behind him came Mr. Smee who spooked poor Stash with a classic "A-ha!" type ambush, causing Stash to jump into the water! Stash didn't like the sudden change in air to water, so he splashed himself out immediately and took off as if one of his nine lives had been spent!
It wasn't so much of him falling in, but how it happened! I could see Mr. Smee almost sneaking up behind him, and I think Mr. Smee didn't intend to startle Stash, but that is how it happened, and why Mr. Smee reached out with his paw to swat at Stash is not certain—I think they play this way when the tub is empty and perhaps Smee thought it was empty—as I don't think Smee is diabolical like Mr. Doo.
The look on Stash's face as he was startled was hysterical, but then the look of him being in the water was an outright laugh riot!
I tried to use the hair dryer on Stash but he'd have none of it so I had to towel him off. However, Mr. Montague permitted me to dry him! All he did was swat at the dryer a bit but he wouldn't run away from it.
Note to self: Next time leave the door closed!
We took Mr. B in to be seen by the vet this afternoon because his listlessness continued and both eyes were leaking. The inner eye lid (that white membrane inside of a cat's eye) was all red and puffy. Poor Mr. B was running a temperature and so the vet prescribed a course of antibiotics and some eye ointment to be applied twice a day.
Why oh why must cats ever need to be ointmented or medicated? Do vets understand the reality of ever getting a pill down a cat or getting ointment into one of their eyes? They know the tricks to doing this and make it look so easy so you get this false sense of confidence that you too can get the cat to swallow a pill or not shred you to bits as you get too much ointment onto every surface but the eye!
Smee and Stash also have leaky eyes with redness so the vet said to also medicate their eyes with the ointment. I'm either going to become really good at apply ointment or suck at it.
The bill came to $68 because the ointment was a slick $25. The office visit was only $32 and the pills $10. (If my math doesn't add up to $68 it is because I rounded some numbers.)
Mr. B seemed slightly more perky after the first pill given to him by the vet. He still hisses at the kittens. I got him a new grooming brush and managed to make his fur look a bit glossy and tamed. His tail still looks ragged. What he really needs is a professional grooming, but I dread doing that for two reasons: First, he'll need to be sedated in order to be washed and groomed; Second, the cost is most likely outrageous. I have no idea how much is charged to sedate and groom a cat. Plus, I'm sure you tip the groomer just as you would your beautician.
Tonight's feline antic I could have done without: Smee got up on the koi fish tank and managed to knock the make-shift wooden lid into the water. He wasn't terribly submerged, more scared than anything, so he sailed across a remarkable distance to land into one of my crochet storage tubs. It was rather funny how he just flew off of the tank and landed rather "splat" into the tub!
He then returned to the base of the tank and kept roaming around it as if he had unfinished business! I kept screaming at him to go away and was gently moving him away with my foot. He finally got the idea to vacate the premises.
Additional feline news: I got them two bags of their favorite Tuna crunchies treats. One bag has been devoured. The Corkscrew doesn't care for them, but the remaining 4 (all tuna eaters) couldn't get enough of them! We also bought a third litter box as I think having an additional one will help keep the two boxes already in use from filling up so quickly. I think I should at least get one litter box for each cat. It's a theory that I'm willing to test.
Non-feline related news: I'm going to christen the Kitchen-Aid mixer by making a pound cake! I bought the ingredients I needed and shall have Pooky show me how to use the mixer since I've never ever used one in my life. I've always used hand mixers. My mom never owned a stand mixer so I'm clueless how they actually used.
Pooky announced that work was hosting a potluck dinner to say good-bye to a temporary manager. He said from what he heard people were going to bring in donuts and chips, no one really bringing in actual food, so I suggested I could make some spaghetti or I could make mac n' cheese. He said to go with the mac n'cheese so I made the recipe as given to us by Good Eats.
Follow-up: I called the local mental health agency I sent my resume to and although the director said he didn't recall receiving my letter, he did recall my name. He said to e-mail him my resume and internship requirements, so I did. He said that he wanted to know where my areas of interest were since they have more than one clinical supervisor, and some internship positions are already filled. He said once he receives my information, I should hear directly from the appropriate clinical supervisor and I'll go through an interview process similar to being hired for a job.
He seemed to be very positive about me becoming an intern. I said that currently I'm not sure when I could start an internship. I could begin in January if my professors allow me to switch to Winter track, or I informed him I may not be able to start until next June or September. He said that would be all right. I just wonder where the letter I sent him went? I know often secretaries will open the mail and just toss something if they think it isn't worthwhile. Of course it has been a full month since I sent the letter, and I explained I had unexpected surgery. He was OK with that.
Last but not least: My dad sent me a $50 gift card from Amazon.com so I got a new toaster—one that is wide enough for bagels. Pooky complains about the toaster we have: it only toasts regular bread. I was going to buy a bagel guillotine, but since it wasn't shipping directly from Amazon.com, I would have to pay over $8 in shipping charges, so I figured that will be something I pick-up in a kitchen gadget store. What I got instead was a boxed set of cookbooks by Paula Deen. I'm hoping to learn the ways of southern cooking, and what mojo she uses to keep from weighing 600 pounds.
Captured On Film: Teddy Is Evil
Today I was able to prove that Teddy is evil. I've nicknamed him "Corkscrew" because his tail is bent at a 90° angle. His surname has been decided: he'll be Mr. Theodore Montague. Thus, the kitten trio is Snodgrass, Smee, and Montague. Sounds like a group of lawyers, doesn't it? I still need to get a picture of Teddy's tail. When we took him in his tail was a nub and as he has grown, so has his tail. It appears like it was slammed in a door, but I don't think it was. It wasn't long enough to get caught!
Teddy's abnormality has also manifested in that he won't eat tuna with the other cats. He isn't interested in people food, either. I thought his need to suckle was abnormal but found out that it isn't all that abnormal.
A Billion Cats Can't Be Wrong!
Smee finds that the taste of butt isn't as delicious as it is cracked up to be (bad pun, please excuse me)! Naturally I wasn't trying to take this picture. I was hoping to get him with his leg up as he look disjointed. I also want to get a movie of him wiggly his "bell clapper" tail. His tail is straight but half-length so it doesn't flow like a snake like other cats' tails do. Of course the moment I bring the camera out he has to come over and check it out making my job that much more challenging. So far he is winning (obviously!)
Smee is also plagued with indignities (my language for fleas). I don't understand how he can be having them as I dosed all of the cats with Advantage or Frontline less than a month ago! I know the hotter weather is flea hatching season, and I've sprayed their sleeping areas with something that surely will cause cancer in laboratory white mice (but allow the fleas to live)!
Mr. B Allows His Image to Be Stolen
Mr. B is the only camera-shy cat I've known. Most know what you are doing and go out of their way to be photographed. Instead, he acts like someone from a cultural belief that photography will steal his soul. I didn't enhance his image in Photoshop to reveal the details of his face. This is how he mostly appears, just yellow eyes floating in a void of blackness.
Mr. B isn't too crazy about the kittens. He hisses at them regularly. I don't think it has occurred to him that he can make all three of them his bitches. Since the arrival of the kittens Mr. B has become more loving and socialable. He'll come sit on my lap and he allows his highly glossy fur to be stroked. I call him my Silkworm as his fur is very silky. He enjoys the praise.
Help! My Cat Has Been Replaced with a Boneless Hoot Owl!
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