Another Cat Video

WARNING: Before watching this video I highly recommend that you visit the bathroom. You can empty your bladder now, or later. It's your choice.

Ever get that feeling you're being followed?

This is not my cat. Great video though!

Attempted felinicide

My husband has only two faults: he doesn't like onions, and he is not a cat lover. I can forgive the first foible, but had I known about his dislike for felines before that uber-cold day in December 18 years ago, it might have been a deal breaker.

I had no idea how deep his dislike for my cat ran until last night I was in the kitchen cooking dinner, and I heard a faint cougar-like scream. Just kidding -- I didn't hear it, because I had the Christmas music turned up too loud. But Susan, who was reclining on the living room couch in her sickish state, heard it. Then SUDDENLY! Tom burst through the front door and sprinted through the kitchen and threw open the door to the garage. And then I saw it: my cat's hindquarters under the closed garage door!!!!

She writhed and screamed pitifully as he leapt down the garage steps and ran to yank on the emergency door release. He lifted the door up. And the cat ran away, leaving desperate scrambling tracks in the newly fallen snow.

Half an hour later she appeared at the back door, begging to come in. I picked her up cooed and kissed her and massaged her spine looking for tenderness or bruising, but she acted like nothing had happened. So far, so good.

Update: late last night I heard an odd tinkling coming from the living room. So I looked through the doorway and what did I see?

♫ Four shoes on the floor
Three dirty socks
Two newspapers
And a Cat in the Christmas tree. ♫♪

I think she's gonna be just fine.

Give That Photo A Name!

Okay I love this picture. It makes me smile every time I see it. Why? Well, it must be because I can relate to the fury and desperation this cat is feeling. But mostly I love it because it's just plain funny. I have been saving it until I could come up with the perfect caption to use as a post title. But I am feeling creatively challenged lately and so I need a little help.

This is where you, dear readers, come in.

Apply your collective creative genius and give it your best shot! The winner gets to come and watch me get my eyebrows waxed.

Just kidding. The winner gets to ask me anything you want to know - and I'll post the answer right here on this here blog.

Goodbye to the boys

Last week, we had three cats. Now we have one. Bob and Sox have moved on to a new adventure, and I am trying to suppress the guilt.

We adopted the brothers from the San Jose, CA animal shelter in July 2001. They were a delightful part of our family and survived the move to Utah in 2002.

King Bob

Sox, the 14 pound lazy bum

I love cats. They each have their own unique personalities, and I'm convinced they read minds. All I know is that all I have to do is think about the bathtub or the vacuum cleaner, and the cats nervously run from the room. When Bob was let in the house in the morning, the first thing he did was make his rounds to squeek at everyone to say good morning. Megan thought it was fun to wake up to a Cat Alarm. I love the way the cats follow me around the yard when I'm working outside. They'll sit in the shade and watch, and then come running over for a belly scratch when I take a break or sit down. Sox was so gentle and cuddly and slow to scratch -- great for a family with little kids.

With the arrival of Baby, the siamese, in Dec 2005, however, Bob began marking his territory in a most unacceptable way. He was banned from the house. He became ever more desperate to get inside, and would wait by the door and sneak in unless you stuck your foot out the door as you opened it. If he managed to get in, someone had to go find him immediately or he'd wet somewhere. It was annoying beyond belief.

Finding himself in exile, he began wetting all over the garage, and on the welcome mat by the front door, etc. If there was a plastic bag on the ground, he wet on it. After more than two years dealing with his messes, I had had enough of cleaning up after him, and Tom convinced me that it was time to reduce our cat population. Sadly, I agreed. I felt guilty, like I was sending them to almost certain death. I wondered if these cats would testify against me at the Judgement Bar. But I'd finally had enough, so I was willing to take the risk.

So last week, after I had discovered yet another smelly spot in my master bedroom, I caught Bob and put him in the cat carrier. Later that afternoon I loaded him in the van to take him to the local animal shelter. He meowed pitifully all the way across town. When I arrived, I was shocked and chagrined when the clerk told me that it cost $50 to drop off a pet. If it was a stray animal, there was no charge.

FIFTY DOLLARS?! Yikes. I wasn't at all prepared to pay that much, so I dejectedly began the drive home, again to the sound of Bob's moans from the back seat. I'd been determined and tough on the way there, but now tears of defeat stung the corners of my eyes. What were we going to do now, drop them off in a field somewhere? Or lie and say they were strays?

Tom took pity on me and took both cats on a long car ride to the Nephi Fairgrounds. He reasoned that they have everything they need there: shelter, water, and rodents. Megan cried for a day, but seems over it now.

Interestingly, I don't miss them at all. But I dreamt last night that Bob found his way back, and was wheezing from the exertion of running all that way. Guilt runs deep when you've betrayed a friend.

Happy Birthday Baby!

Today marks the second anniversary of the day that my beautiful siamese, Baby, joined our family.

I'll never forget that day. Megan, Nathan and I were driving home from the doctor's office where Megan had just had her cast taken off her arm. While driving along a rural back road on my favorite "shortcut", I noticed a little furry buff colored something on the shoulder of the narrow road. My first thought was a large rodent--a rat or something... but as we passed it I realized it was a kitten! I pulled off the road and jogged back to pick up the little fuzzball.

Now tell me please, how was I supposed to just leave something that cute out in the cold? If that doesn't just break your heart, well, you've got something wrong with you. Or you're a man.

We made a bed for her in a cardboard box lined with an old baby blanket, and put it in the bathtub so she wouldn't escape during the night.

Because we already had two grown cats and certainly didn't need another, my original intent was to keep her over the weekend, and take her to the animal shelter on Monday morning. That idea fade quickly. Somehow I didn't have time to take her on Monday. On Tuesday, I informed my reluctant husband that all I wanted for Christmas was to keep that kitten. Having her in the house brought my heart a bit of joy that had been sorely lacking since Megan's serious arm injury and surgery in early November. How could he say no to that?




"They said there is supposed to be a mouse here somewhere...."

Don't be fooled by the perfect beauty and angelic expression...

because she'll turn on you without warning.

Above is actually one of my most favorite pictures, because it is so Her. As beautiful as she is, she's an ornery little cuss, and for some strange reason, I find that endearing. Could it be because deep down inside I'm an ornery cuss too? Naaaah.

Our two older cats had opposite responses to the kitten's arrival. Bob shunned her and began marking his territory in a most unacceptable way, which earned him exile from the house for the remainder of the winter. Sox adopted her as his baby sister, and they spent many hours ranging throughout the house, chasing madly one minute and curled up together the next.


I don't like fur on my bathrobe anymore than the next guy, but how can you be mad at something that cute?

She discovered a universal truth this day in the neighbor's tree: going up is easier than getting down.

Just try to install landscaping fabric when a cat is determined to be inside and under it.

If there be anything small, paper, and of hollow nature, she seeks after these things.

Just don't interrupt her nap.

"I'll teach you to stick your finger in my face, lady!"

She loves me...

She loves me not. (notice the claws holding my hand in the proper position for alternately licking and biting. This cat has indecision issues.

In honor of Baby's birthday (circa November 1), observed on her adoption day, Susan made a kitty cake. Nice job, Susan!

Baby was a little freaked out by the candle in her birthday tuna... and had to be (ahem) persuaded to pose for the camera.

Once the ridiculous flaming thing was removed, she sampled her birthday present. Susan's superb craftsmanship on the cake was lost on the cat, however. Maybe next year we can flavor the frosting with catnip. On second thought, let's not.

I love this contrary little cat unreasonably much. I'm not exactly sure why. Maybe it's the undeniable beauty of sapphire eyes shining out of the perfect symmetry of her dark face. Maybe it was our mutual dependence on each other that first winter; she needed food and shelter, and I needed something to get me through those oh-so-cold winter days. We rescued one another, in a way, I guess.

She seems to be mellowing a bit as she gets older, and will actually come and solicit an ear scratching now and then while purring like mad--for about 15 seconds. Then she darts off again, reasserting her independence and pretending that it never happened. But I'm not fooled; there's a strengthening bond between us, somehow. And it brings me joy every day.