Eeek! There's a Flea on Me!

Had to treat the furrballs for fleas tonight. It was either that or get myself a flea collar. I was starting to have nightmares about the ravenous pests devouring me.

I threw down some food and hit them all with the spot drops while they were trying to outeat each other.* But once the food was consumed and they realized what I'd done, mayhem ensued. How dare I put some sort of foreign liquid on the back of their necks??

At one point Izzy turned into a one-kitten wrecking machine and raced around the house, leaping on top of everything and knocking as many items onto the floor as he could. Sam just raced around, dashing out of my way whenever I came near him, and he continuously vocalized his displeasure. Jake took it the best of all, staying quiet, but trying his best to get his head far enough around to lick the stuff off. Better go check on him just to make sure he didn't succeed.

*Eating has become a spectator event around here. Jake has torn a hole in the cat food bag and serves himself one pawful at a time. I don't think he eats out of the bowl anymore. Izzy drags me out of bed or away from whatever I'm doing whenever he glimpses the bottom of the food bowl. (But at least he's stopped going hunting!) When I give them canned food in the evenings, I dump the food on the plate and practically toss it at the meowing little piranhas. Not only that, but the two of them broke into the bag of rabbit food the other night and gave it a taste test. I had to hide it. Poor Sam just tries to get a couple bites of food whenever the other two aren't paying attention.

New Floor

My latest DIY project has dragged on way too long. I bought the laminate flooring in February, and laid down a few boards in March (note Jake below napping on the work in progress.) Then at the end of April, my sister came over and we got the flooring about halfway across the room. Starting to look pretty, isn't it? I now need just 4 rows to complete the whole thing. But I've hit a snag. I can't get a board to lay correctly at one spot. I've taken rows up and laid them back down thinking I had something off somewhere. After hitting the same snag at the same spot multiple times, I now have to wait until I get some help in figuring it out. In the meantime, the boys are making the best of things.

Jake found a sunny spot, even if it is on top of a pile of boards and floor padding. And of course on Memorial Day, the family got together and took a nap. Or two. It really shouldn't take three months to finish putting down flooring in a 14x16 room.

Can't Blog.... Sleeping.... Zzzzzzzzzzzz

I've worked two weeks straight with one day off. No break in sight until this weekend.

In the meantime, when I'm not at work, I'm at home with the boys and all of us are typically in various stages of sleep. See below.

That would be me they're sleeping on top of in the last picture.

It's rainy and dark today, or what I like to call sleeping weather. Jake even tucked himself into bed this morning instead of getting up. Wish I could have stayed snuggled up with him. But, duty calls. Will blog more when the brain cells are rested and firing again. Or if something really pisses me off!

Wrestlemania, Kitty Style

Imagine being awakened in the wee hours of the morning by a wrestling match between two guys with too much hair. No, it's not a night in the frat house, it's life with kittens.

Evidently my rear end makes a good jumping off spot for Jake as he pile drives his little brother. And the blankets make good hiding spots. Even the pillows were brought in to play as the two of them dove, wrestled, chased, and chewed on one another this morning. I put up with it until I took a claw to the backside, then I decided to abandon ship. Unfortunately, they followed me into the bathroom to continue their "battle." Both were unceremoniously dumped back into the bedroom and the door slammed behind them.

I've learned that life's easier just to get dressed in the bathroom because there's no "help." No more tiny little claws snagging my clothes because they prove too tempting. But I still sit down on the bed to put on my shoes and socks. This morning I was ambushed by Jake who had been hiding underneath a pillow. There was a short chase to reclaim my sock.

Then of course there's Izzy, who really hasn't figured out yet that there are things in this world to be afraid of. (Especially his grumpy "mother" in the mornings!) Izzy took the opportunity to dash out the front door this morning as I was holding it open for Sam to come inside. I chased the little bugger all over the yard and finally cornered him next to the neighbor's house. Yet another moment to entertain the neighbors. (And let's not forget Jake's foray into the tree. See below.)

If it weren't for the really cute moments like when Izzy stretches out on his back across my lap or when Jake curls up with his head tucked into my neck, I don't think I'd survive.

Oh, and Sammy looks like he's joined the kitty mafia or something. That cat has bulked up! His neck is even disappearing. He was always the "little one" around Turtle and Tommy. Now he's the big kitty on the block.

But he's so sweet to his little siblings--Izzy will jump up from wherever he's at and dash over to him whenever he comes into the room. (Wish I got that reaction! LOL!) Of course, I think he feels put out most of the time, mainly because he never gets room at the food bowl, but they adore him. I try really hard to make sure he gets his fair share of the attention as well. Right now he's sharing lap space with the computer.

And a couple entertaining pics:

And Then There Were Three (Again)

Remember when this guy





















met this guy?

What was it, almost two weeks ago now?

Well, as of Tuesday night, the boys got themselves a little sister.

Meet Izzy. Two months old and only been here a few days, but she's already got Jake and Sam wrapped around her cute little tail.

How did I come to get another new kitten so quickly, you ask? Well, I answered my phone.

My aunt called and asked if I would take my cousin's kitten. He and his girlfriend both lost their jobs, couldn't afford their apartment, and so are moving in with our grandparents. Thankfully our grandparents are kind enough to take us kids in when our lives hit the tanker (been there!) But, there's no room at the inn for little bitty Izzy.

I tried my best to only agree to a short-term solution. You know, I take care of her until they get back on their feet. No, no. They wanted a permanent home for her. Plus, they have her sister, as well.

Yeah, I know, I gave in. It's not like I have that strong a spine when it comes to cats in need.

Matt and Kat (I know, too cute on the names!) brought her to me Tuesday afternoon and gave me a bit of history. The two of them found an ad in the paper for kittens and went to the man's home to pick one out. Well, they got there and discovered that this "person" had stuffed Izzy into a refrigerator! Thankfully they went ahead and grabbed her too so she wouldn't suffer an awful fate. I would have done the same thing, but I probably would have committed an act of violence against the guy on my way out the door.

So, Izzy's here for good and well on her way to being completely spoiled rotten like the other two. I even went out and bought her a pink litter box, pink blanket, pink toy, pink collar, and a few other items (some of which actually weren't pink!)

Here's Izz with her favorite new toy.

She's been carrying it around the house and playing with it in various rooms. I even found it next to her food bowl when she slowed down enough to gobble down her kitten chow.

She's spent all her waking hours chasing her big brothers around the house and the backyard. Earlier this evening she went to sleep with her head on Sam's belly. It was the most adorable thing I've ever seen.

I really need to keep the camera on my person so I can catch these things. I missed a good one the other night with Jake standing on Sam's head. And one last night when Sam jumped on the bed and the babies jumped up and climbed all over him. He seems to be taking pretty well to being a big brother. At least Izzy now serves as a distraction for Jake and Sam can get some peace. And Sam's behavior has just been fantastic. He's put up with a lot and the worst he's done is get a strained look on his face.

A Few Shots of Sam

So here's a few shots of the "Demon Spawn" taken with the new camera. He seems to hide the evil well in his photos.

Helping with the laundry (note the dryer sheet)...

Keeping me from getting anything done....

And the reaction to the "demon spawn" comment....
I'd have more pictures, but he can't resist playing with the wriststrap on the camera, so 98% of what I've taken came out blurry.

I'm Lazy. So What?

But I still beat Becci at bowling! *teehee* I told her I was going to shame her into beating me again, because that's the way it should be--she's the better bowler.

Anyway....

Things are hectic around the house. At last count, I had 1456 projects going at once (give or take a few hundred.) I can't manage to complete anything, so the living room floor is only 1/10th of the way redone (went with Carribbean Cherry flooring!), the kitchen is unclean, there's something growling at me from the depths of the refrigerator, a dirty sock grabbed me around the ankle and tried to pull me into the hamper, and the dining room table is lost under a pile of paper and unsolicited fliers. Not to mention Sam being a pest every time I actually try to do something! And I still haven't managed to watch the X-Files movie I borrowed from Bec--but somehow I had time to watch Norbit twice this weekend. ("O00hhh, I'm slidin'!") Go figure.

Yeah, yeah. I know. How can I be so far behind when I have no husband or kids to take care of? It's a mystery. Having to distract Sam every few minutes to stop him from destroying what's left of the house takes up a lot of time and energy. He behaves better when I sit down with him on the couch and let him curl up in my lap to sleep. Heaven forbid I try to get up and do anything while he sleeps, though! Spoiled rotten little spawn of Satan.

I think it's time we started looking for a little brother or sister for him to play with just so I can keep some sanity.

Death By Chicken Pot Pie

If a food's gonna kill me, I'd rather it be chocolate. Preferably a river of it. But Swanson's Chicken Pot Pie? The ramen noodle of chicken pot pies? Ugh.

The small chain grocery down the street is convenient. That's about it. I ran in to grab something for dinner last night and ended up getting the aforementioned pot pie at the fantastic special of 3 for $2. Headed home and threw one in the oven.

It wasn't that appetizing, but after a week spent eating nothing but potato soup and drinking cough medicine, I was ready for a change.

Well, to keep a story from getting disgusting, I'll just say it wasn't the change I needed. And I wasn't the only one--Turtle had finished off what was on the plate and he was tossing his cookies too. We went to bed early and just hoped to survive. Sam's still sneezing (which sounds like a cross between an explosion and a hiss), although not as much, and needed to cuddle. We crashed out on the bed while Tommy--no doubt disgusted by the three of us--decided to sleep elsewhere.
So now I'm back to feeling craptastical. At least it's Friday and I can sleep all weekend.

Gesundheit

There were little kitty sneezes emanating from beneath the bed this morning. I think Sammy's caught my cold. Poor little devil. He wouldn't come out so I could cuddle him, but hopefully he will stay there and rest all day. These pets of mine always pick the worst times to get sick--in between paydays. Of course, there's really no way to treat a cold, other than rest and fluids. Guess I should see if he wants some chicken soup, huh?

I'm starting to feel better, at least until I get out of bed and start moving around. That's when the coughing and dizziness starts back up. I skipped bowling last night just to stay in bed and get some rest. It worked out pretty well until my phone rang at midnight and scared the bejesus out of me. For the third time some girl was looking for Ryan. Sorry, sister, this still isn't his number!

(And don't you hate it when the wrong-number dialer starts to argue with you? Good grief! You called the wrong person! I was nice about it, so hang up the phone and leave me alone already! I'm not Ryan's grandma, nor do I know him. Plus, I've had this phone number for 10 years.)

Anyway, it took me a while to get back to sleep after that and I woke up twice more with coughing fits. I would gladly have stayed home today, but once again I'm forced to go to work thanks to obligations like conference calls and preparing for audit. Bleh.

Happy Sam-Aversary!

Well, it's been a year now since Sam moved onto my patio and refused to leave. I can definitely say life has not been the same. Quiet has been replaced with loud, calm replaced with crazy. Not to mention that despite being the youngest, he's got an overpowering need to be the alpha male. One thing about him though, he makes the best guard cat and is great at patrolling the perimeter.

Despite the fact that he drives me nuts with his incessant meowing, I love the little fart.

I put together a little photo essay to commemorate our first year together...

Taking a moment out of his busy schedule of running up and down the stairs at the apartment.

Playing with his favorite toy--a hawk's feather.

Coming to grips with his neutering.

Giving himself a timeout.

Getting Tommy to do his grooming for him.

Getting picked on (he walked backwards around the livingroom trying to get that thing off. )

And last but not least, being cute.

BUS-ted!

Driving home this afternoon, I was coming up to the stop sign to turn onto my street when a very familiar brown tabby went zooming across the street in front of me. He flew across the street in about three bounds and came to a stop on the neigbor's sidewalk. And along comes a pickup truck making a turn with a little terrier in the passenger seat just barking at him like there's no tomorrow.

By the time I turned the corner and pulled into the driveway, he had made it through the bushes and was trying to sneak into the backyard without being seen.

As soon as I got out of the car, I started fussing at him. (Yeah, crazy lady alert--she's talking to the cat again!) He runs past me and under the fence. By the time I got the front door open, he had made it through the cat door and was trying to look innocent. "Oh, hi Mom, I've been here all day." Little devil.

I guess I have choices to make. I can either tag him so he gets sent back home when the pound picks him up, or I can shut down access to the outside. Which would mean the litterbox would have to move back inside. We've already littered the neighborhood with lost collars, but I guess I'll have to give it another go. Maybe someone will at least return the collar.

Now he's sleeping on top of me like the world has completely exhausted him. These moments are the ones that keep me from killing him.

Sam Takes a Trip

So Sam has pretty much been a pain in the ass since the day he showed up at my door. He disturbs the peace, tries to be the dominant male, and even makes the other cats do his grooming for him. But every once in a while he has really sweet moments, like when he cuddles up in my lap and goes to sleep. At the very least, he's quiet for a little while.

Living in a tiny apartment with him was a nightmare. There just wasn't enough room. He started doing better once we moved into the house and he had the run of it and the backyard. He did even better during the short time we had a roommate. I guess he figured it just wasn't worth competing with a 6'3" guy for dominance, so I found him sleeping under the bed most of the time. But since Brad moved out, Sam's been reverting to his old ways--with added annoyances. First, he sprayed in the house. Ick! Smelly! Disgusting!! Then he started clawing the furniture. Then he kept me awake at all hours with his loud meowing. He never really wanted anything, he just wanted to know where I was at in the house.

So yesterday we took a little trip. To the vet. For a neutering. Usually I feel guilty leaving one of my pets at the vet's office, but by the time I dropped him off, I was ready to never return. He had me up at 5 am, crying because he was hungry. Well, too bad, you can't eat before surgery. By 5:30 I was ready to dump him on the porch at the vet's and say good luck to them all. He yelled in the car all the way to the vet, he yelled like there was no tomorrow when we got into the office. I managed to speak with the vet's assistant over his cries of protest, scratched him under his chin, said "Bye Samalama" and was out the door without looking back. His cries followed me all the way out the door.

Tommy, Turtle, and I spent a quiet night at home relaxing. But it was almost eerily quiet.

This morning I went and picked him up. See, I'm not a horrible cat dumper after all. I could hear the little devil coming. He was yelling all the way from the back. The guy who handed him to me just gave me a relieved look when I took him. Then he yelled at me all the way home. I just laughed at him, because who's the dominant one now, biotch?!?!

Poor kid, when I let him out of his cage when we got home, he walked funny all the way over to his food bowl. Then he tried to eat without sitting down. He spent the evening needing love, so we cuddled on the couch. This was the best behavior I've ever seen.

Here's the poor baby coming to term with his life change. He looks kinda depressed. All right, I feel a little guilty.