Dangerously Cute

Not for rookies - if you haven't had extensive experience with cute kittens, you could lose consciousness or experience dizziness and a floating, euphoric feeling after watching this.

Reindeer Games

(here's Mr. Reindeer under the tree with his friend, Christmas Talosian)

Christmas is over for us but will go on forever for the cats.

While decorating the house this year I found a little stuffed reindeer toy in one of the boxes - a gift from someone at some point, it doesn't do much but it's cute, so I propped him under the tree.

A few nights after getting all the decorations up, I found the toy in the bathroom. Seems "someone" (Neo) found him and claimed him, then dragged him off to 'kill' him on the fuzzy bathroom rug.


(slain on the bathroom rug)


(on another night, slain on the bathmat)

I returned the reindeer to the tree and the next day found him in the kitchen. No matter how many times I put the toy back under the tree, the next day it would be gone, dragged off to some other part of the house.


(left just outside our bedroom - a gift)

Now the reindeer is sufficiently coated in Neo spit and dust and will remain a cat toy for the rest of its life. Probably more fun than living in a box in the basement.


The Christmas Talosian knows all.

Heartsick

I have to admit that I might be hormonal at this moment, or it could be an accumulation of stress, but I can't believe how sad I am about being away from the animal kids.

When I rolled into town Sunday night, I realized I wasn't going "home." No one would be at this house - there's no home here anymore - just the house.

A house that now smells like it did before we moved in - like someone else's house, with someone else's things in it. Not my house. And no one in it.

That first night, every noise I heard made me expect a cat to be right behind it. No cats. When I made pasta and put it into a bowl, I automatically thought to find a small dish for Henry. No bird.

This year has been difficult with David away for most of it. I hadn't realized until now how much more attached I'd become to the fuzzy kids. It's killing me to be away from them. I want to leave right now to race home to them. Because home is wherever they are and they aren't here.

Very Restless Natives

Neo & Nikita

Since Nikita's last projectile pukey episode several weeks ago, the kids have been on a new feeding plan.

No longer do we leave kitty kibble out for grazing - cats aren't grazers by nature, though if you try to tell Neo (aka Medicine Ball) that, he'll slap your big human face.

They get two hearty meals a day - a bit of kibble and some very delicious-smelling ground up fish in a can. Mmm mmm mmm mmm MMM!

While this new routine is supposedly much healthier for them (they haven't yet told me if they feel more cat-like and better nourished), it's created another new routine.

Every morning the bed is covered in cats, starting around 6:30am. They assemble and parade all over everything until we get up, their way of letting us know it's TIME FOR BREAKFAST, BITCHES. NOW.

They've always been helpful in waking us up early in the morning, but now they do it with so much more purpose. You have to admire their tenacity. They will wear you down until you put some damn food in their damn bowls.

In the afternoon, as it gets closer to 3pm, they begin to follow me wherever I go, maybe just in case I have their food in my pocket - they'll be right there in case I decide to feed them on the couch, or in the bathroom, or on top of the clean laundry.

And as the clock approaches 5pm, the hour we decided best for their dinnertime, they collect around me like a tiny gang of cat thugs, staring at me and maneuvering closer and closer to me as time ticks down to the magical hour.

If I'm working on my laptop, usually standing up at the pub table in the bar, one will sit on the chair behind me, one will sit directly behind the laptop, and the third will sit on the bar next to the chair - each no more than 1 foot away from me.

If I do not acknowledge their presence, especially the one directly behind me on the chair, he/she will proceed to "climb" up my back and rest forepaws there until I turn around.

There are times I've given into them way earlier than 5pm, because they all have very sharp teeth and dozens of claws between them.

If they manage to trip me in just the right spot, I'm done for. And then David comes home late from work and finds them snacking on my face.

Ninja (El Retardo, Chimpee the Ass Monkey, Big Walking Rug, and a number of other nicknames)

What a Dick, Van Patten

All Nikita's tests came back normal, so the only X factor in this equation is Dick Van Patten's Unnatural Offbalance food.

The vet thinks that must have caused the REPEATED PROJECTILE VOMITING and EXTREME DIGESTIVE TRACT UPSET.

Just a little bit of the new food mixed in with her regular food was enough to do the trick. So, lesson learned - no new food, ever - stick with the one that works (which is Wellness, btw).

I'd never have guessed that something purported to be so high-quality would cause such a problem. I'd like to punch Dick Van Patten in his big fat pasty face.

Cute Overload

Found some old pictures of the boy kittens when theys was teensy. Hard to believe they were ever this small.


Ninja as a baby Sylvester. Even then he had a ginormous noggin.


The day I brought Neo home, a year after we got Ninja, they were playing together right away, though I bet Ninja thought Neo would always stay that size and not grow up to kick his ass & become AlphaNeo.


Baby NeoNeoNeoooooo. Mew!