Tagged: cat people
The Agony of the Cat Tree
My cats need a cat tree. I am sick of them perching on things they shouldn’t be perching on. I feel they are desperate for a cat tree.
Moosh on a box.
First of all, can anyone tell me why cat trees are so expensive? It’s wood. And carpet. I haven’t priced out carpet or anything but wood ain’t that bad. I’m a handy girl. I craft. I refer to Home Depot as Michael’s on Crack.
I have a Dremel, even, and a fancy accessory kit for it. I can use a real drill, too. I can sand with the best of them. Even with a power sander. Yup, I’m that awesome.
I am a little iffy about using saws. As a superklutz, a spinning wheel of doom may not be what the doctor ordered. Even the boyfriend cut his knuckle on one, nicked a tendon and ended up needing surgery (he wasn’t even going to go to the ER, silly boy). But hey, they can do that for me at Home Depot.
The reason I’m thinking about making rather than buying is that I cannot find one that I like in a reasonable price range. I’m not really surprised. I can go to TJ Maxx or Marshalls or whatever and manage to only like the most expensive thing in there. It’s like this horrible gift I have.
This Wohnblock one is awesome. It’s also 1590,00 €. I have no idea what that converts to in U.S. dollars but it sure as HELL isn’t in my price range.
Catswall. Also super awesome. But guess what? ONLY AVAILABLE IN TAIWAN. Way to go, America. We can’t even win the cat tree race.
Back to reality, and the cat trees I CAN afford. They kinda all look the same, and boring. Also somewhat cheap and unsturdy, but that’s me being picky. Which brings me back to making one. I hate paying money for something that I feel like I can make myself. I think I’m going to attempt it today on my day off. I’ll at LEAST try the carpet store. If I don’t blog for awhile, it’s because I put a nail through a body part or something.
This post is oddly not about cats.
I have so generously been awarded an award. Thank you to CatPurrology! As a new blogger, it’s comforting to know that my writing is decent enough to warrant this honor.
The rules to the ONE LOVELY BLOG AWARD are:
• Thank the person who nominated you and link back to them in your post
• Share 7 things about yourself
• Nominate 15 or so bloggers you admire
• Leave a comment on each of the blogs letting them know they’ve been nominated.
So. 7 things about myself. So many things to say…
1. I am not a natural blonde. This is probably not a surprise, as my shade of blonde is not found in nature. Technically, though, I was a blonde as a kid, it just got darker as I grew up. So I bleach the hell out of it. 
2. I have an addiction to shopping. It is quite serious.
3. I have a lot of tattoos, and I really hate when a-holes with tribals try to bond with me over our shared tattooage. Oh, are you Samoan? No? Well then.
4. I am easily distracted by animal print.
5. I’m a walking disaster. I can trip, fall, bump into and crush almost anything, especially if it is something I should not be able to trip, fall, bump into or crush easily.
6. In spite of the above, I have never broken a bone, except for my tailbone, I think. I fell getting out of a sailboat, right onto the rope mooring it. Not fun. Couldn’t sit properly for weeks.
7. I really really really love football and beer. The months between football seasons sadden me. 
So that’s that. Nothing about cats, even! I figure I talk about them enough otherwise.
15 seems slightly excessive, so I’m going to shorten my list. I apologize in advance if I am breaking blogger code, but I so love breaking rules!
2. Tabi Happy
4. Spots of Odd
5. My Serendipitous Life as a Baseball Wife
8. ThreeCatYard
Gah, I’m so lazy today. If I left you out, it’s not because I don’t admire you, it’s because I’m sloth-like in my production today.
New obsession…surprise! It involves cats.
There is nothing that I do better than completely waste my time. Well, except for being a crazy cat lady, of course.
So when I discovered #catwang, it only made sense for it to become my new obsession.
Cats and randomness, my two favorite things. Nothing makes me laugh more, which explains the success of i can haz cheeseburger, I’m sure.
There are so many chores I’m not getting done because I’m too busy playing with this. Who thought of this? I want to shake their hand. I feel we are kindred spirits.
Of course, this is all easily accomplished through photoshop, but being that I hail from the age of convenience, the handheld-do-it-anywhere option is SO appealing.
In conclusion, if you have an iPhone, I urge you to download #catwang. It’s free, although you can buy add-ons (which I did — SHARK TEETH!) This is not a paid advertisement (I wish! Pay me, #catwang people!). It’s just too much fun for me not to pass on. You may already know about this. In my advanced age, it takes me a bit longer to glom on to what the kids are into these days.
Love and cats.
A scientific mind overanalyzes everything. This is what I tell myself to make myself feel better, anyway.
Although I am a fan of all animals, I am most definitely a cat person. I won’t even kill insects unless they are stinging me or in my house, which I consider fair game.
After a lifetime of careful thought, this is my conclusion: I love things more when I have to fight for it. This is true of my love life as well.
He doesn’t even let me win mini-golf on my birthday.
The boyfriend and I will have been together for 9 years as of June 7th. We’ve definitely had our ups and downs but in the end, I love the hell out of him and I know he loves the hell out of me — I mean, how could he not? But we don’t always LIKE each other. I’m not saying that we ever hate each other…we’re just both independent people who are totally ok having alone time and we are both easily annoyed. There is a balance of power in a relationship that is always shifting. My theory is that this is what keeps things interesting. We always love each other, but the upper hand goes back and forth.
This, I think, is the basis of why I am a cat person. Hear me out.
The balance of power is always shifting in the kitty/kitty mommy relationship. They sit on your lap JUST as you’re about to get up, but refuse to sit there when you put them there yourself. They adore you when they’re ready to be fed, but might completely ignore you for an entire day in between feedings. Dogs love you ALL the time. Nothing against dogs, or people who love them. Personally, I just love a good fight. This is a genetic thing. I’m cocky, I can be arrogant, and every once in awhile I need a worthy opponent to take me down a peg or two.
So those times when I’m walking up to my house and see one of the babies jump in the window, looking happy to see me (when it’s NOT time for food), it brings me joy. They love me. I’ve won one round in the uphill lifetime battle. When I get an after-food snuggle, or a purr without being touched, I win. I will never continuously hold the upper hand. It just makes the victories that much sweeter.
im on yur lap, steelin yur comfurt
And boyfriend (I know you tell me you read this but I don’t believe you), I love you. I know this is a RIDICULOUS anniversary message but after 9 years, I had to try something new. So here it is. Thank you for loving me and the kitties even though sometimes you pretend not to. And thank you for being my lifetime sparring partner. You keep me interested. Otherwise you’d be long gone =P
Can we get a kitten?
Cat of the Day!
Well, fancy that. Moosh Moosh was the Cat of the Day on Catster’s community page!
WOOT WOOT
He did absolutely nothing to garner this honor but I am awash in motherly pride nonetheless.
My baby is famous.
So regal.
Taco, on the other hand, loudly puked this morning about 30 minutes before I had to wake up. Apparently he managed to get some on the tile of the bathroom but did not miss the carpet.
I don’t remember signing up for puke pick-up duty.
Despite this, the news that a co-worker found baby kittens in his yard made me momentarily forget how expensive the cats are. One of them is all gray! And the silly boy did not bring pictures. In an office full of cat people? Ridiculous. I let myself get a little excited because I know that my best chance of convincing the boyfriend a 3rd cat is an OK idea is a solid gray kitten. One came up to our porch once and I had convinced him that we needed to take it in when a big fat neighborhood cat scared it away. Never saw the angelbaby again. I imagine it went back to its forever home. But I digress. Apparently one of kittens has funky legs. He googled and discovered its a common kitten thing, he just needs a little physical therapy, but soon. They’ve decided they want to keep that one. Which reminds me of the time I wanted to adopt a 3-legged cat (black, or course), but the boyfriend insisted he would have a hard time getting up and down the stairs. This is not true, of course, cats adapt very well.
I guess I love a good underdog. Undercat? Doesn’t quite have the same ring to it.
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.
MEOW hear this! 