Don't Let My Boys See This

Turtle would have demanded such treatment just to walk to the mailbox. Especially the umbrella.

See more funny videos and Cute Animals Videos at Today's Big Thing.

Shawshank Redemptions and Marauding Raccoons

I got up this morning thinking it was going to be a typical Monday. You know, shower, dress, run out the door to work.

Well, Izzy was rather insistent that I get out of bed right then and feed him, but I expected his usual, "part of my bowl is empty, so I MUST be starving" nonsense. Instead, the water bowl was filled with dirt and the food bowl was licked clean. Which means Max paid a visit at some point during the night.

*sigh*

I can't begrudge an animal a meal every now and then, but when he messes with MY stuff, then that's a different story. After feeding the cats and cleaning up the water mess, I went on into the living room and started seeing something strange. Bits of chewed up paper on the arm of the couch and on the cushions. What could it be?

Now, I am an admitted collector of things that make me laugh. And my newest addition was a present from Becci from her trip to Santa Fe. It was Cat Butt Gum, people! Yes, the raccoon ate a box of Cat Butt Gum. Here's what it looked like pre-raccoon:

And after:

I was able to rescue a few pieces of gum from between the couch cushions, but found them full of teeth marks. He also took a bite out of the hand-made soap she brought me. Is nothing sacred?

No, it's not, as I also discovered one of Izzy's fake mice had been beheaded. Oh well, there's at least 29 more of those things around here.

But the morning fun did not stop there. Oh no, that would be too easy! I still needed to go out and feed the rabbits.

I grabbed a couple of carrots from the fridge and headed out to the pen where I saw a cute little pair of bunny ears sticking up high enough to be seen through the screen door. Awww!! They're waiting for me!

But then I see Jake off to the side of the pen, his attention concentrated on something. Imagine my surprise to see a bunny hole! Yes, they had made a prison break to the outside! A quick head count showed all six innocent-looking bunnies inside the pen, so my little guard cat was doing a pretty good job.

Izzy had to come investigate what was going on. He and Jake had a little discussion over the best way to handle the situation...

And then Izzy took matters into his own hands. I've learned that when he doesn't really know what to do, his solution is to pee on it.

Take that, bunnies! I did put a piece of plywood over the hole, as I don't really have a lot of faith in Izzy's pee to keep the bunnies from heading for freedom. I'll get out there and fill it in when it stops raining.

The Life and Times of Jake and Izzy (Illustrated)

So you have to admit Sam, Izzy and Jake have it pretty good. A zombie human to do their bidding, more toys than PetsMart and Petco put together, four plush cat beds, their own fleece blankets.... But why sleep in a specially designed kitty bed when there's a whole house to use as your mattress??

Here's Jake on the lamp table:

I see, a hard surface with a light shining in your face is comfier than a micro-suede bed.

And Izzy, as you can see, prefers his pillows in hardcover: Infinitely better than a soft fleece-lined kitty bed, right?

But I think I have to hand it to Jake on this next one:
Those 400-thread count sheets are pretty irresistible. Too bad that's MY side of the bed he's on! And just think of the stretching capabilities in a queen-sized bed! (Being the good zombie human I am, I just climbed in on the other side. Why fight a battle you're going to lose?)

And would you look at the tail on this cat?? It's at least 12 inches long. Grandad just calls him "long-tail cat." Evidently some cheetah ancestry is coming out in him. Not to make him run faster, but to help him balance when he does this: Hey, don't fuss at me about this--I'm a good human and make sure their water bowl is filled with fresh water every morning. Evidently there's just something irresistible about toilet water.

And now, here's my little black jaguar, Izzy, surveying his kingdom from his perch atop the ladder:

I'm bored.

But wait! What's that sneaking through the jungle?? (Honestly, he's lying down in the grass--my lawn is not that tall... yet....)
I will leap from my perch and defeat my enemy!

Eh, it's just Jake.

I'll get him later.

Sam bowed out of this production of Crazy Cat Lady Theater. There was a cool patch of tile in the kitchen he hadn't laid on yet.

Coming Soon: Bunny pictures!

I Hear and I Obey, Master(s)

*Edited to add a few extra comments*

We cat owners pretty much knew this one already: Cats Do Control Humans, Study Finds. (And to quote a fellow blogger--"No shit, Sherlock.")

Turtle would have made a good subject for this study, since he was always good at getting me out of bed to do his bidding. Mostly because he'd snuggle up on top of my head and purr in my ear and lick my face. It gave me the warm fuzzies and I'd do anything to make the old fart happy, so I'd get out of bed (most times carrying him) and get him some food. He would just purr away, all smug in his dominance over the stupid human.

Izzy's the same way, but his methods need streamlining--like not using blinding rage to get me out of bed. He meows away as I hurtle out of bed in the mornings to save breakable tchotchkes from hitting the floor and he takes off down the hallway only to skid to a halt in front of his partially empty food bowl. And when I say "partially" I mean you can see a tiny bit of the bottom of the bowl!

My struggles to combat this have so far been useless. Shutting the door on him just results in high-pitched "Mommy I'm dying" meows that drag on forever. At least Jake and Sam are smart enough to stay out of the way in the mornings. But let's face it, Izzy's working in their interests as well.

A few excerpts from the article, with my editorial opinions in parentheses...

Household cats exercise this control with a certain type of urgent-sounding, high-pitched meow, according to the findings. (No use trying to outwait them, it just gets worse, and I you wait long enough, you'll hear a crash coming from another part of the house--guaranteed to get you out of bed to investigate!)

McComb suggests that the purr-cry may subtly take advantage of humans' sensitivity to cries they associate with nurturing offspring. Also, including the cry within the purr could make the sound "less harmonic and thus more difficult to habituate to," she said. (As in ignore. That sound penetrates even the thickest pile of pillows. See the above-mentioned "Mommy I'm dying" meows.)

McComb said she thinks this cry occurs at a low level in cats' normal purring, "but we think that cats learn to dramatically exaggerate it when it proves effective in generating a response from humans." (What?? Cats exaggerate the desperation of their needs??? It all makes sense now!)

You can read the article in it's entirety at the link above.

Oh yeah, I heard a rumor that Sarah Palin hates cats. (Now you can sue me, too, Thomas Van Flein!)

Pictures to come of the furrballs' latest hits. But right now I must play Flying Spaghetti Monster with our system.

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.

I'm Melting!

It is so frickin' hot here in Texas I've melted into a puddle of sweat. The humidity makes it feel like you're breathing through a hot, wet towel.

I snuck out early yesterday morning to get the lawn mowed before the flaming ball of death rose too high in the sky and fried me in my tracks. There was no time to waste. I finished the front yard in 15 minutes, rolled the mower back onto the patio and was stripped down to my skivvies in front of the fan before Spongebob came on.

Even the boys are forgoing any trips outside for fear of turning into kitty jerky inside their fur coats. All three can be found sprawled across the tile floor, only moving when their chosen spot heats up to body temp. After going out to the grocery store in 103 degree temperature yesterday, I was ready to join them.

This week the temp's are only predicted to be in the mid to upper 90s. Ooohhh! A cold front!

Kings of the Realm

Cats don't care what you're doing. They must be petted!



Found over on LOLCats

And I'm pretty sure the Egyptians didn't worship cats willingly. They were forced into it by an overwhelmingly cute coup.

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!

*Pant* *Click* *Pant* *Click* *Gasp* *Click* *Pant*

That would be me, and the sounds coming from the area of the elliptical machine. Yes, I have made sure my chubby ass has been on that taunting bastard for at least 30 minutes the past two nights. And I hope to continue.

From the amount of sweat rolling down my stomach and back and the pain in my thighs, you'd think I'd be working off some major calories. Nope. After 30 minutes last night, I had burned a total of 220 calories. That's not even the equivalent of one chocolate chip cookie! I think the monitor on the machine is lying to me.

The only thing I like about the machine is that it positions my feet far enough apart on the pedals so my thighs don't rub together. Because let's face it, there's no need to start a fire while exercising. It's really hard to get the smell of burned exercise shorts out of the curtains. (And it's horrible to get off the machine and have your rubbery sweaty thighs instantly glue themselves together. Blech!)

When I first got the elliptical (umm, let's see, that was back in March?) I figured I would watch TV while on it. I could just picture myself trucking right on while watching my favorite programs or movies.

Real life, of course, is nothing like that. It's possible, but I keep getting bored by what's on and then I get distracted by the pain in my thighs. And once you start concentrating on the pain, it's pretty much over. Also, it's really hard to hear what Jon Stewart's saying over the panting and gasping for air.

So, I tried a different technique--and here's where it's a good thing I live alone. I charged up my MP3 player and plugged in the earphones. Now I sing at the top of my lungs while exercising. Of course, I can't really call it singing, more like off-key dying moans set to music only I can hear. The boys have decided hanging around outside is better than staying in the same house with me.

And keeping them out of the room is a good thing, since Jake got himself trapped between the wall and the machine the other night. Poor kid almost climbed the wall in order to get out of there. I didn't know he was stuck for a while because I was so busy listening to an old Barbara Mandrell song ("If Loving You Is Wrong, I Don't Wanna Be Right) and gasping at the top of my lungs while mouthing the words. I suddenly sensed he was behind me and turned to find him standing on his hind legs with his back up against the wall. From the desperation written on his face, I think he was wishing he would suddenly disappear into the wall in order to get out of there. I stopped for a minute and coaxed him out, then watched him flee for his life.

Dude, if I were as skinny as he is, I'd run from that damned machine, too.

Joys of Raising Kittens

So it's been a week since you all last heard from me. I'm still sick. No, it's not N1H1, just a runaway sinus infection that has moved to my chest. Coughing, sniffing, sneezing, blowing, throat clearing, all that gross jazz just to clear away the phlegm. I've even grossed myself out at times with the noises I've made, and that's hard to do. Plus, at one point, I'm pretty sure I quacked like a duck.

Now, if none of that made sense, blame the cough syrup. Yes, I got a lovely new prescription filled with codeine and life breezes right on by in a lovely hazy sort of fashion.

So, back to the title of the post. Life with two cats still in babyhood, and one almost-grownup cat, is... interesting, to say the least. I have found vomit in the weirdest places. Not to mention some of the things I have seen in that vomit. (Sorry, grossed myself out again.)

The sheer number of cat toys is about to push me out of my own home. And I hope the shredded look for furniture comes into vogue soon. Typically, as I'm stopping one from scratching the couch, one of the other two starts in on the chair. I started keeping their basket of cat toys nearby so I can wing one at them as they start scratching. But I think I'm sending mixed signals--scratch the couch, get a toy.

All during the night, the babies are active. They start to settle down to sleep, all cuddled up with me, but then they're right back up, moving around, laying back down, getting back up, etc. until I almost toss them off the bed in an effort to get some sleep. I wake up multiple times during the night with a cat butt in my face or someone sleeping on my neck with his whiskers tickling my face. And of course, if there's any kind of noise during the night, they come flying into the bedroom, fur and tail puffed out, and stand on my head so I know something's out there. Typically it's just the wind blowing the wind chimes. (I guess I could use them as a cheap alarm system.)

The babies have been banned from going into my bathroom now that Izzy was caught peeing in the closet--far away from any litter box. Sam still gets to go in there and sleep because it's the only place he can get any peace from them. This morning as I was getting ready for work, Izzy was crying on the other side of the door (actually, he sounded more like a ferret) and sticking his little tiny paw underneath the door in a bid for my sympathy. I almost gave in, but the fact that I have to clear out the closet floor and shampoo the carpet this weekend kept me strong.

Every morning I get out of bed wondering what destruction has befallen my house during the night. Stuff is usually knocked onto the floor, the couch cleared off, and the trash dug into. Most times I have to be wary of where I step. Like this morning, and I warn you, this actually made me toss cookies I haven't eaten yet! Save yourself, stop reading now, click on one of the blogs over in the sidebar and come back when this post is over.

Are you gone? Seriously, I am going to tell this story. This is your last chance!

You were warned. Here goes--I walked into the kitchen this morning, barefoot, and stepped on something not so much squishy, but not too firm, either. I looked down and saw what I thought was a furry fake mouse. Oh, how I wish it had been one of those little fake mice. Dear God, why couldn't it have been fake?? I thought it was, at first. I thought one of my little nincompoops had actually tried to eat a fake mouse and tossed it up. It was the exact same size as their toy mice. I know this because one was lying nearby.

I bent down to inspect it further.

Oh, Dear Lord in Heaven! I had trod upon the severed head of an actual mouse! Laying in my kitchen floor on my brand new rug from World Market! (I'll spare anyone unfortunate enough to still be reading this any description of the viscera that was still attached.) Usually I have a pretty strong stomach for stuff like that. I guess the phlegm has weakened more than my immune system. The rise of bile was immediate. I might have to burn the kitchen rug.

Once I pulled myself together, I picked the nasty little thing up and tossed it out into the backyard. And not one of the boys seemed upset that his plaything had left the building. (Dear Lord, please don't let it be back in the house when I get home!)

Okay, story's over. It's safe to return to this blog now.

But I have to say it wasn't until I got to work that I wondered where the rest of the mouse is. Blech!

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:

Another Wee Postlet

Just a few quickies. I'm neck deep in shit right now thanks to, well, the economy, the corporation I work for, and so forth. None of which can be discussed in cyberspace. Which pisses me off even more.

Anyway, first up, my thanks goes out to my sister's friend Diana, who alerted us to a possible Tommy sighting. She was at her vet's and saw a sign for a grey and white cat that had showed up at someone's house. Well, I dashed out of work and over to the vet's office to get a good look at the pictures before I called the people. I was filled with mixed hope and dread, and dread won out. The kitty was not my Tommy. I walked out of the vet's office in tears. Thanks anyway, Diana, and thank you so much for still being on the lookout.

Then last night, my dear little Jakey got jumped by a neighborhood cat that came into our yard. Jake was relatively unharmed, perhaps because of his defense mechanism. You know how skunks have odor and squids have ink? Well, Jake's is poo. Yes, he pooed everywhere and I quite frankly didn't want to let him in the house until he'd cleaned himself up. (It's one thing to clean you up when someone else has done something to you, but when you've done it to yourself? You're on your own.)

Protective older brother Sam leapt into the melee and held off the intruder until I got out there with my broom. Where's the damned neighbor's dog when you need him?

Izzy discovered a tiny hole in the fence just big enough for him to squeeze his chubby little belly through and out into the front yard. Luckily he was only out there a few seconds before I realized what he'd done. The fence is getting replaced this weekend. And quite possibly with netting at the top to keep my boys in and intruders out.

That's it for now. Maybe things will turn around soon and I can come up with more to talk about than the boys.

I'm Too Old For This

I think I'm too old for kittens. The constant energy is killing me. Not to mention the destruction. (Or the fact that I've worked almost every day straight for 3 weeks--that's really not helping my sanity either.)

This morning it was my glasses knocked into the litter box. Last night it was my silk curtains being used as a landing strip. The day before it was a trek up on the roof and a leap over the fence into the neighbor's yard (Jake's working on his career as an escape artist).

The paper shade on my poor lamp looks like it was run through a shredder. I've lost the ability to even react when I see tiny teeth and claws sink into it. There's 4 am wrestling matches on top of my head that usually end when I get bitten. Not to mention the glasses of tea knocked over and puke IN the bed. I've changed the sheets three times this week. And evidently my leg looks like a scratching post or climbing pole, because both of them love to climb from my ankle all the way to my ass while I dance around trying to shake them off. (Maybe I should start making and selling scratching posts that look like human legs.)

Speaking of ankles, both of mine are covered in scratches because of the number of times I've unsuspectingly rounded a corner and been attacked out of nowhere. And did you know it's really hard to see a tiny black kitten in the dark?

Someone please tell me I'll survive the kitten phase and we'll actually get to the fat and lazy old cat stage. Please? Please???

I never thought I'd say that Sam's the "good" cat. (But even he's had his moments this week.)

For now I'm going to pack up every breakable or shreddable item that is of import and hide it away until they actually start sleeping most of the day and learn not to careen wildly into everything. Will that day actually come? Will it?? I need to know!!!

Lord help me.

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.

I Am a DIY Queen!

Congratulate me while I try not to strain arm patting myself on the back.

This evening I installed my brand new dishwasher all by myself. Despite Jake's attempts to assist. (Right now he's chewing on my laptop!) In the two hours it took me to complete the job, I spent the majority of it moving him out of the way and trying to convince him that plumbing is not his strong suit. He got locked in the bedroom finally when, as I was lying in the floor trying to attach the water hose underneath the dishwasher, he walked up to my face and bit me on the lips! He latched on like a badger and wouldn't let go. Now, I admit that I wouldn't mind looking like Angelina Jolie, but this is not the way to go. Thankfully he didn't break the skin, but my lips swelled up like I'd been stung by a bee.

Once I slammed the bedroom door with him on the other side, I finally managed to get the dishwasher installed in peace and ran a load of dishes. Aaahh, clean plates and silverware. Not to mention the quiet. My old dishwasher was so loud I had to leave the house when it was on. This one can barely be heard outside the kitchen. Love it!

Thankfully the lip bite was my only injury. I didn't electrocute myself, nor did I cause a flood. The thing is even level (finally.) Jake helped make up for his perfidy by sleeping in my arms while I watched Role Models. Then he and Sam played chase through the living room and leapt over my head several times when they raced over the couch.

Was it just last week that things were quiet around here?

Catching Up and Introducing a New Character

It's been hectic around here lately. The dishwasher died and I am awaiting the delivery of a new one this morning. Hence the reason I'm not at work and why I had time to write the previous post expressing my adoration for Jon Stewart.

As I write this I am actually being flicked on the nose by the tip of Sam's tail. He's expressing dissatisfaction over the behavior of this guy:

Everybody, meet Jake. Jake, meet everybody (or at least the 5 people who read this blog.) Jake is our new addition to the household as of Saturday morning. He stole my heart the second he stuck his paw through the cage bars and smacked me in the face.

Little Jake's three months old and was rescued from the SPCA. It has been a looooong time since I've had a kitten and it is taking some getting used to. The amount of energy he expends could power New York City. And he's a biter. We're working on that one. Other than that, he's a sweet kid who loves to cuddle--when he slows down for a couple of seconds. I woke up Sunday morning with him cuddled against my shoulder. Right now he's trying to get Sam to play chase and Sam just gives him the disgruntled older sibling look. Now he knows how Turtle and Tommy felt!

Here's a few more shots of little John Jacob Jingleheimerschmidt just to get your ooohhhs and awwws going.

Oh, and this shot is the aftermath of what happened when he launched himself off the ottoman and onto my lampshade. Home Depot doesn't have a replacement shade--I'd have to buy a whole new lamp. Grr.

Well, the new dishwasher has arrived. The delivery guys were so quick, the whole process took less than five minutes. Of course, the new one is sitting in the hallway, but at least the old one is gone. I did all right disconnecting the old one, so tonight I might just see if I can get the new one installed all by myself. Dad will be proud if I can accomplish that.

Now it's off to work!

It's Only... Six More Hours Until the Weekend!

I woke up feeling pretty good this morning (Hot and sweating, thanks to the pile of furrballs, but otherwise good.)

I got up early, ate some breakfast, fed Turtle breakfast in bed (yeah, spoiled, I know, but it's easier to feed him in the bedroom where I can lock Sam out.) The old cat actually polished it all off, which makes me think he's not actually on his last leg, although those legs are getting pretty skinny. He's 17 now and with just the one good eye, he's needing a lot more TLC. Plus, he's just not handling the cold weather very well at all. So if it takes feeding him from a plate on the bed every day in order to get him to eat while Sam tries to shred the doorframe, then that's what I'll do. I will have to draw the line when he demands the newspaper and remote, though.

I got to work and immediately sank back into the funk that had overtaken me before I threw in the towel yesterday. This would be thanks to a voicemail from someone who thinks I need a primer in what is going on every time she contacts me. Slamming the phone really didn't help. I just can't understand how someone can be so stupid as to think I'm that stupid!

Anyway, whatever. Deep breaths and go to my happy place. I am deliberately not responding to the phone call until later today. For now, it's crossword puzzle time and counting down to lunch. Thank goodness it really is Friday.

Cat Nap Thursday

Now that I've taken the afternoon off, I can turn my attention to topics other than my frustration with work. I need to get in a few updates on Old Fart, Big Fluffy, and Turds for Brains (that would be Turtle, Tommy, and Sam, respectively.)

As I type, Sam fights for attention. Now that Tommy's come into the room, he's decided to get attention from him. For the past few days Sam's really been pushing the envelope on good behavior. When I walked into the kitchen this morning, I discovered that someone had chewed into the brand new bag of bread I bought yesterday. This is on top of the sack of cat food that was broken into and the two days in a row that cat food somehow ended up in the water bowl. Not to mention the fact that he'd rather eat Turtle's special senior cat food rather than his own canned food and believes that he has every right to jump onto the kitchen counter whenever he feels like it. If it weren't for the moments of extreme cuteness, he'd be homeless.

Speaking of homeless, I'm still trying to decide whether or not the little dog I keep seeing in my neighborhood needs a place to live. He's wearing a collar, but he's skin and bones, and he's wandering the streets in the middle of the day. Last Friday I was out painting the new siding on the house when he showed up. He just sat and watched me for a while, and of course, I started talking to him. I guess he decided I was harmless, because next thing I knew, there was a chihuahua mix pup all over me. He's really sweet! At one point he even walked right into the house and acted like he belonged there. I started calling him Bob. (Yep, I'm a sucker for a furry face and a sob story.) He wandered back down the street after a while and I haven't seen him since. I really hope he's safe and warm.

Last night I had the weirdest dream. I was at my high school reunion and for some reason I kept trying to push a hood off my head, but even in my dream I wasn't wearing a hood! It was really annoying and I couldn't figure out why something was on my head. Well, I figured it out--when I woke up I found myself cuddled up with a cat bed.

I'd put it on the bed last night in the hopes of encouraging Turtle to sleep in it rather than on top of me. Obviously it didn't work and I was the one sleeping in it. Thankfully I can say that's the weirdest thing I've ever woken up with.

The day really turned around as soon as I decided to take a breather. I was even able to grab an appointment with my hairdresser to get a long overdue haircut. Now I think I'll snuggle up with the furrballs and take a nap!

Wreck the Halls with Bouts of Folly

(A brief rewrite of a classic)

'Twas a night before Christmas
And all 'round the house
Not a creature was stirring,
Not even the mouse (the computer was
shut down).

The stockings were hung
By the chimney with care
In hopes that someone would put something in there.

The furrballs were nestled all snug on the bed
While visions of wreckage and mayhem danced in
their heads.

And I in my flannels was resting on the couch,
hoping the cookies and fudge I'd eaten wouldn't settle south.

OK, wrecking a classic time is over. If I'd had more time, I could have come up with more, but Christmas is over now, so I'll let it go. Maybe next year I'll work on the 12 Days of Christmas. Someone gave me a good idea for the first day this morning. Sneak preview--"On the 1st day of Christmas the furrballs gave to me--A hairball on a Queen bed!)

Hope you all had a great Christmas!