Tagged: black cat

Cats and frogs and lizards, oh my.

What’s more annoying than Taco’s meow?

This cat is so loud.

Frogs. Well, actually, toads, I think. I think we have frogs, too (I found one on my beach chair when I went to lay out one day — while I was laying on the beach chair — it was the same color green), but the toads are the uglier and stupider of the two.

Here in Florida, the amphibians loudly enjoy a good rainstorm. And if you know Florida, you know we do storms right. It’s rained quite a bit in the past week. When you walk outside, all you hear is “GGRRREEAAAAKKKK GREEEEAAAAAAAK” — it’s really annoying.

But more annoying than the noise is the fact that they will jump into my house unnoticed when the door is opened for a second.

What’s more exciting than chasing a not-alive real-fur mousie?

Taken a split second before he batted it.

A living, breathing, jumping baby frog.

Sometimes I’ll catch the little idiots in time and scoot them out the door. Some aren’t so lucky to escape the “master hunters.” But I will not know about the not-so-lucky ones until I step on a half-corpsified dead one. Or half of one. Because this is the only other state that I find them in other than fully alive and cornered. I don’t know what the little carnivores do with them until they reach this state, but it is out of my eyesight. Kitty embalming? Who the hell knows.

I suppose I should be grateful. Fatty, in his younger and skinnier days, used to catch lizards, play with them awhile, and just as they were hard and corpse-y — place them thoughtfully in my bed as a present. THANKS. JUST WHAT I ALWAYS WANTED.

But really, stepping on a dead frog (toad, whatever) isn’t much better. This year’s croaking just started, so I have yet to have this honor. But I know it’s coming.

 

(If you’re wondering what happened to the blog challenge, the word of the day is “mushroom” and I DESPISE mushrooms, so I couldn’t figure out how to fit it in. Oh, I just did. Go me!)

The challenge right meow is….

Super Troopers is one of my all-time favorite movies. As hard as this is to believe, one of my favorite scenes is cat-related. And involves Jim Gaffigan. I love him. even though he loves bacon. Read on.

Mac: All right, how about “Cat Game?”
Foster: Cat Game? What’s the record?
Mac: Thorny did six, but I think you can do ten.
Foster: Ten? Starting right ‘meow?’
[Mac laughs – they walk up to the car, and Foster taps on the driver side]
Larry Johnson: Sorry about the…
Foster: All right meow. (1) Hand over your license and registration.
[the man hands him his license]
Foster: Your registration? Hurry up meow. (2)
[Mac ticks off two fingers]
Larry Johnson: Sorry.
[the man laughs a little]
Foster: Is there something funny here boy?
Larry Johnson: Oh, no.
Foster: Then why you laughing, Mister… Larry Johnson?
[pause]
Foster: All right meow, (3) where were we?
Larry Johnson: Excuse me, are you saying meow?
Foster: Am I saying meow?
[Mac puts his hands up for the fourth one, but makes an “eehhh” facial expression, as he is considering the last one]
Larry Johnson: I thought…
Foster: Don’t think boy. Meow, (4) do you know how fast you were going?
[man laughs]
Foster: Meow. (5) What is so damn funny?
Larry Johnson: I could have sworn you said meow.
Foster: Do I look like a cat to you, boy? Am I jumpin’ around all nimbly bimbly from tree to tree?
[Mac is gut-busting laughing]
Foster: Am I drinking milk from a saucer?
[feigned anger]
Foster: Do you see me eating mice?
Foster: [Mac and the man are laughing their heads off now] You stop laughing right meow! (6)
Larry Johnson: [the man stops and swallows hard] Yes sir.
Foster: Meow, (7) I’m gonna have to give you a ticket on this one. No buts meow. (8) It’s the law.
[rips off the ticket and hands it to the man]
Foster: Not so funny meow, (9) is it?
Foster: [Foster gets up to leave, but Mac shakes his hands at him, indicating only nine meows] Meow! (10)

I am attempting a blog challenge (please click here to learn more and read her blog, it’s awesome) from my friend Tabi, who has been doing this much longer than me and has a lovely blog about her human children and being a mom. She actually makes it sound fun! Obviously our blogs have tons in common, with me writing about my dedication to my own children. Except I doubt that “stay-at-home-kitty-mommy” would fly as a full-time job. There’s a lot of cleaning involved with my furballs but they sleep most of the day.

Anyway, to tie these things both together in a super clever and maaaaaybe WAY out there way, I am doing “what’s the word june” day #1 in style.

In honor of Foster’s “meow” #10:

SMITTEN.

Yeah, that’s right. I just did that. Booyah!

Sometimes I think he thinks if he closes his eyes I’ll just go away.

Cats’ sixth sense: camera detection.

I bought my cats a 6-pack of those real-fur mousies. This is not a great vegan purchase, but they love them. This is why I have to buy more of them, because they disappear. Every once in awhile, we’ll find a cache of them hidden somewhere, like a closet or under the sofa, but when I LOOK in those places I never find them.

Taco will go apeshit over them. He spent an hour stalking, throwing and batting them.

“Go get the video camera,” I said to myself. “This would make a lovely video blog post.”

Except when the video camera goes on, all action stops. As far as I can tell, there is no way for the cats to actually know they are being recorded. There’s no flashing red light. No whirring of a shutter. It’s effing digital.

But they know! From all the video I have captured of my cats, one would think they are lazy slobs who move only to go sit in another area. I tried for 10 minutes and gave up.

Taco went from “whoa dude, I’m totally stoned” to “methed out mouse fiend” the SECOND I put it down.

They only move for still pictures.

They’re such a-holes.

Support no-kill or save a life?

Not that I’m allowed to get another cat. The boyfriend has made it clear that if another cat moves in, he’s moving out. He does really useful things, like taking out the trash and using a toilet instead of a litter box. He’s also there for me to annoy incessantly when I’m bored with doing that to the cats. I guess there’s the whole “love” thing, too.

But every time I see adoptable cats, I want them. They are calling to me. I was at PetSmart today (I only shop there because I can get Taco’s prescription food there, which they SO INCONVENIENTLY put next to the adoptable cats) and these kitties were CALLING to me. One literally was, I told him I couldn’t have another mouth in the house. Taco is deafening enough. But there is always one that really really gets me. This time, it was a 10-month-old tabby/white mix. I generally don’t even like partly white cats (I like them all, I just usually don’t find them attractive). This big guy was so cute. I am a sucker for big paws, and he stretched those big mitts out at me, just BREAKING my heart.

Tell me he’s not cute.

This is where my moral dilemma comes in, even though it is a hypothetical one, since I can’t get another cat.

The kitties at this PetSmart were from the Pinellas County Animal Shelter. The animal shelter is NOT a no-kill facility, meaning if these guys don’t don’t find homes, they’re euthanized for space. I know it’s logistically not possible for a state-funded operation to avoid this, but I don’t particularly want to support it, either. So how can you choose between saving an animal that might otherwise be “put down” or supporting a facility (through your adoption fee) that makes every effort to not euthanize?

All of my cats are strays. Except Taco, his mom was rescued while preggers, so he’s never really known the streets. As much as I dream about having full-blood Bengal or a Cheetoh or a Toyger, there are so many stray, unwanted and unloved babies out there without it being necessary to breed more. Besides, Taco is part Bengal and if I pretend he’s bigger, Moosh is almost Panther-like.

KINDA like a panther, right?

I guess the end result is what really matters. You save an animal, no matter how you do it.

And when I can, I assuage my guilt by donating when I can, and taking my old clothes over to the Friends of Strays thrift store. I wish I could volunteer but two jobs take up most of my time and I doubt I’d be much help crying over wanting to take them all home. It would be like putting a drug addict in an evidence room.

Just in case anyone feels like donating…these are really good no- kill shelters that can always use the help:

Friends of Strays
Pet Pal Animal Shelter
Second Chance for Strays
Save Our Strays

My cats need more than 9 lives.

Maybe it’s just that mine are overly rebellious, but they seem to do things that will ultimately put themselves in harm’s way.

Examples.

Jager ate my hair ties. He also would play with shoelaces, get his claws stuck in them, then frantically try to jerk them out, getting himself more tangled and more freaked out, then retreating to an area I couldn’t reach him making it impossible for me to help him.

Moosh Moosh sniffed a lit candle and singed his whiskers.

Taco will scoop needles out of my pin cushion if I leave it somewhere accessible. He also finds it fun to pounce on my scissors while I’m in the middle of cutting fabric.

A few weeks ago, Taco went after a hornet that got in the house and got stung in the mouth. Today I found him with a spider that I have never seen before and had to google a bit to assure myself it wasn’t a brown recluse. I’m still not totally sure, but I guess I’ll find out if his flesh starts rotting away.

Taco had blood in his poo and when we took samples to the vet, they discovered pink sparkles. He had been eating the pink metallic fluff toy that Moosh Moosh loved. The ONLY one he really loved. Apparently pink sparkles will make a cat’s a-hole bleed. More than you wanted to know, I’m sure.

Of course we’re not about to fight.

I guess this is why they have 9 lives? Why can’t they play with the toys made for them to play with? There can’t be much nutritional value in a spider or a hornet. Why is there a cat toy for sale that causes bloody poop? WHY DOES TACO HAVE TO EAT THAT TOY? I don’t think Moosh really ever got over that loss.

I, on the other hand, do not have nine lives. These cats, they’re giving me premature gray hairs, I swear.

Cat food for thought.

Disclaimer: No hot dogs were harmed in the making of this picture.

I’m vegan. This is partially because I have never really been a big fan of meat, partially because I find slaughterhouse stories revolting, partially because I really like animals and helped along by reading Skinny Bitch.

It is absolutely AMAZING to hear the reactions from people when I tell them I am vegan. Sometimes they feel the need to defend their meat eating, as if I care. Some ask me “Well, what do you EAT, then?” Dirt. I eat dirt. What exactly do you think I eat? What do YOU eat that you think meat, dairy and eggs are the ONLY sources of sustenance?

My favorite is when people ask me if my cats are vegan.

You’re feeding me WHAT?

I am a lover of science. A devotee of evolution. A student of logic. I understand, know, and appreciate that cats are carnivores. Their little bodies are made to eat meat. I probably know more than I should about how they have different enzymes than humans do, to help process all the flesh they eat. How their stomachs are longer to digest, but have a smaller intestinal tract. Why would I buck the trend and try to perfect what Mother Nature already perfected? There’s a food chain. Some things are meant to be eaten. Some things are meant to eat. I could make the argument that humans are meant to be herbivores, but I’ll refrain here. Vegan conversion is not my goal, it’s my personal choice.

So yes. I feed my cats what they are supposed to eat. I am a little too squeamish to do the raw food diet, and with Taco’s Feline Idiopathic Cystitis, he’s on prescription food anyway.

Here is where I will rant. Cat food is CRAP. Total and utter crap. Grocery store brands? You might as well serve your cat roadkill that’s been sitting out for days and crapped on by other half dead animals. It’s disgusting. I’m sure there are plenty of people who think I’m ridiculous for only wanting to feed my cats organic food without chicken meal and grain and fill, but I wouldn’t stuff myself with fast food pink slime, so why would I do it to my cats? This prescription food he has to eat, it helps him not form crystals, avoiding a very expensive-to-fix blockage, but it is made with CRAP. My vet had an amazingly long discussion with me about my aversion to feeding him this ick. Because I trust her and because she had this amazingly long conversation with me about my aversion to feeding him this ick, I listened. In the end, he’s eating the ick. I’d rather not rush him to the emergency vet or have him die because I am too stubborn to feed him what is apparently the ONLY scientifically proven thing to help him. I tried feeding Mooshie the good stuff and Taco the prescription, but Moosh is a stupidly picky eater and will only eat the crap. He won’t even touch wet food, which I know is bad but I can’t FORCE him to eat it. I will shamefully admit that I have, once or twice, KIND OF smushed his face in it a little, just to nudge him into eating it. It doesn’t work. I just give them lots of water and leave it at that.

But I can tell the difference. Their coats aren’t as shiny. It’s amazing what they allow in cat food. It’s also amazing what they allow in human food, but hey, that’s why I’m vegan.

Cat alarms.

I wake up to go to work earlier than a lot of people, 5:30ish. I’m not that far from work and I don’t take too long to get ready (unless I’m having a fat day, in which case I will put on a million outfits and hate/feel like a sausage in all of them) so I can hit snooze a few times. It’s still early. Lately the cats have been sleeping with us. This is a fairly new thing, before, they only liked sleeping with us when it was cold. We live in Florida, so that’s not a lot.

Cat on my pillow.

Moosh either sleeps on my feet or on my pillow, giving my head very little space. This is mostly ok with me. At any given point, Taco will be draped over me, stretched along my side, or also at my feet. Also mostly ok with me. It’s kind of odd that they sleep on my side because I am not a still sleeper. The boyfriend has complained myriad times about getting kneed, punched and elbowed (until we got a king, SO NICE!).

Sleeping kitty babies.

This is all besides the point. On mornings that I have to wake up to go to work, everyone is extra snuggly, making it much harder to get out of bed. Purring furballs vs. work — I love my job and all but nothing beats kitty and bed.

I’m pretty much a morning person anyway. But I would like to sleep in a LITTLE TINY BIT on the weekends. Not asking much. 9? Even 8?

NO.

Hey. Whatcha doin? Wake up! Feed me!

The cats are transformed into monsters on weekend mornings, generally around the time I would wake up for work. They crawl in and out of the window, disturbing the drapes and letting in light, knocking things over loudly, stepping all over me and meowing.

I understand that cats are not capable of rational thinking and spiteful actions, but sometimes I wonder…

Toilet training for cats sounds so tempting.

I have two cats. I had two litter boxes. One preferred one, the other preferred the other.

The boys in a rare moment of sharing.

Then Taco started peeing on the couch and in my attempts to try everything to discourage this, we added a third.

They say that you’re supposed to have one box per cat plus one, but I had resisted this as there is really no good place in my house for various litter boxes. As I write this, I have one next to me, in the spare bedroom that serves as an office/craft room. Another is in my boyfriend’s bathroom under the vanity. The third, the one that I tried not to have, is in my “dining room,” which is really just a space with cat stuff. We tossed the table a year ago, we never ate at it and it was ugly. We keep meaning to get another, smaller one, but haven’t gotten around to that either.

I buy three different kinds of litter. I refuse to use clay, because, if you don’t already know, it’s incredibly bad for the environment, the cats and yourself. If you’ve ever poured a batch and inhaled the cloud of dust that ensues, you’ll understand. So I have S’wheat scoop, Feline Pine and Feline Pine clumping. Taco always preferred the pine and Moosh likes the wheat, and I did the clumping downstairs because it’s miserable to step on those f&^#&ing pellets.

Nothing really stops the stench, and now BOTH cats have taken to almost exclusively using the downstairs box…the one I would really prefer them NOT use, as it is right next to the kitchen.

I cannot fathom why. They both spend the majority of their time sleeping upstairs. Moosh’s current favorite place is in my closet, and Taco’s is under or on the bed. They have developed relationships with the boxes they’re already used to. Why is this new box so special?

They are both total opposites when it comes to USING the box, too. Moosh digs to China. He spends a good 15 minutes covering. This leads to what we have affectionately labeled “the poop face,” because he is covered in pine/wheat dust. Then he likes to do what we have affectionately labeled “the poop run,” which is running up (or down) the stairs excitedly, ending with a little prance. I assume he feels lighter and freer and wants to show it off.

POOP FACE!

Taco rarely digs. His poop run consists of dropping a deuce and then hauling ass, leaving the stench to permeate. And boy, is he stench-y.

So this is why, sometimes, I am really tempted to train my cats to use the toilet. In the end, though, I’m personally too selfish to give up the use of one of MY toilets to do so. Nor do I have the patience or time. Sigh.

She works hard for her money — then spends it on cats.

As any kitty mommy and crazy cat lady knows, one’s purchases revolve around one’s cats.

For example. I went to Target yesterday for kitty litter, among other things (I never leave Target without spending far more than I’d planned to).

I spotted this.

Despite not having any human children of my own, I’m familiar with the Diaper Genie and its place on the “must-have” list for human parents. WHY DIDN’T I THINK OF THIS??? Literally everyone I know with cats saves their bags from the grocery store and uses those for litter. This normally would create a problem for me because I (try to) use reusable bags at all times. Fortunately, my boyfriend is not as environmentally savvy and never uses the reusables. (Side note: I also collect plastic bags from people I know for my mom to use at her used bookstore, if you live in the Tampa area or even if you don’t, check out Sam’s Books. Thank you in advance for allowing my shameless plug for mi madre.)

Litter Genie. Really. And it was cheap! 15 bucks to avoid the spillage that usually occurs when I try to scoop the TONS (I do mean tons, I cannot fathom how my 2 cats expel SO MUCH) of used litter into the plastic grocery store bags.

I realize that many of my purchases are done with my cats in mind. For example, my fancy vacuum cleaner. I would have bought a Dyson except this one came just as highly recommended for a lot less money. I love it. It’s changed my life. You wouldn’t BELIEVE how much fur this thing picks up. Every time I dump out the canister I wonder how my cats are not bald. WHERE DOES THE FUR KEEP COMING FROM???

Shark. Highly recommend it.

Bucket of cat toys. Filled with all the toys the cats only mildly like, because the ones they adore inevitably disappear into the abyss of I-don’t-know-where. Like those mousies with the real fur. Those are pretty much universally adored, right?

Other various cat things.

They like these.

One of the rare occasions this piece of furniture meant for the cats is used by one of the cats.

I have yet to buy a cat tree, though, I can’t find one that I like enough to spend that much money on, or I find ones that I like that I can’t possibly afford. I keep telling myself I’m going to make one but haven’t quite gotten around to it yet.

There’s also the useless purchases, like the beds they won’t sleep in, or the litter mats that do absolutely nothing to keep litter from getting everywhere. But there’s more used than not.

Had you told me, say, 10 years ago, that any of these purchases would one day excite me so, I would have laaaaaaaughed and laughed. But now I am a grownup, sorta, and a full-fledged kitty mommy. So I’ll just shrug. I did it all for the kitties.

This is what a Crazy Cat Lady’s workspace looks like.

I admit it. I decorate with cat. I don’t mean to. A leftover halloween decoration here, a funny kitty card there…it just happens.

Let’s start with the calendar.

Standard kitty calendar. Ok. Moving on.

Kitty knick knacks

One of my shelves. Yes, I know you’re probably looking at the FABULOUS captain’s hat first, but focus. Weird grinning cat my mom gave me, a black cat from halloween my mother also gave me, and a Toy Robot cat my friend and fellow crazy cat lady Yvonne gave me.

Cat on the phone. So silly.

Next up. My bulletin board. Here we have a funny cat postcard.  Next to that, a picture of Fatty and Little, and then a picture of my dearly beloved Jager who is no longer with us. I don’t have Taco and Moosh pics up, I see them enough. Look closely and you’ll see some George Michael buttons. And a Rays schedule. Yay Rays!

Ignore the easter bunny. Does not apply.

A view from the outside. I have thoughtfully placed arrows next to the cats. My lone lolcat is very reflective of my job, i.e. proofreading.

And finally, the piece de resistance. My crazy cat lady. Life imitates art.

Marvel at her glory!