Tagged: pets
Cat hair in my eye. WOO!
I don’t know if anyone else have cats that seem to ADORE smashing their faces into yours, but I have one and a half. Moosh shows his love through borderline violent face smushing, hence his name, Moosh Moosh (he was Oz when we got him, renamed him Porkchop and again renamed when it became apparent he was indeed a Moosh Moosh). Taco does it when he’s REALLY REALLY craving attention, not just his usual meowing and stepping over to get attention. The face isn’t so much his target, though. Any part will do.
Anyway, I bring this up because I have had a piece of cat hair stuck in my eye ALL DAY. I can feel it with and without my contact in. It’s not super painful, but it’s annoying. I only know it’s a cat hair because I saw it and tried to get it out and it disappeared to wreak havoc on my poor eyeball all freaking day long.
Moosh spreadin’ his shiz.
This is not the first time. I’m always pulling effing cat hairs out of my eyes. I’m lucky that most of my wardrobe is black or I’d be furry all day long, thanks to my laziness regarding lint brushes. If it’s not in my eyeball, it’s right after I’ve applied the stickiest lip gloss ever. Try fixing THAT without getting hairy, sticky lip gloss all over your face.
More fur on my bed.
So can I shave them? I think i could handle the claws but they’re both so jittery (I don’t know why they like us and hate new people so much, WE’RE the ones that torture them) I think I would scar them horribly with a loud razor. At the very least, Taco’s stress levels are of utmost concern, as we currently (get this) have couches FREE OF PEE PADS! CRAY, as the kids say these days. Taco sleeps on the couches a lot lately, which the boyfriend sees as a concern but is exciting to me because the vet said they won’t piss where they rub their face. “Sleep on” is close enough to “rub face on” for me. So exciting.
This is what my life has been reduced to. Complaining about cat hair in my eye and being enthralled about cats not peeing on my couch. And writing a blog about it while my boyfriend watches Shahs of Sunset, which despite my love for horrorshow reality shows, does nothing for me. Oddly, I’m ok with all of this.
Nothing better to do than capture the brotherly love on camera.
Cats. Shut up. Please.
So I started this new kick. Being positive. Because I realized that I have become a rather temperamental be-yotch lately. Which I don’t mind so much, but I’m even starting to piss off myself with my grouchiness. Therefore, I’m attempting.
Unfortunately, it seemed like everyone else around me was having bad days and being cranky, which is hard to overcome. And then there’s my stupid wrist, which is more crampy than it was before I went to the doctor and started wearing the damn brace, and then the rest of my arm started hurting too from overcompensating. And thanks doc, I know you said I was cleared to work with a brace, but have you ever tried to grab boxes coming down a moving conveyor belt, jiggle them around under a half-broken scanner and then place them perfectly tetris-style in a plastic igloo without the use of the thumb on your dominant hand? I was hoping my left arm would become magically useful and I would move into ambidextrism, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. It’s either very stubborn or it takes a lot longer than a week to teach one’s moronic digital half to pick up the slack.
Just call me gimp.
This is where I expect my cats to “poor you” me. But no! They still want to be fed. In fact, they seems to want to be fed more than usual. The non-winter Florida winter is making them ravenous. And I refuse to feed them more than they’re suppose to be fed. So guess what happens? MEOWING. SO MUCH MEOWING.
Usually it’s just Taco being a loud a-hole, but now Moosh is getting into the act with his high pitched MEEEEs. I came home from work tonight craving quiet, and Taco meowed for (and I’m NOT exaggerating here) a half an hour straight. At some point he was so worn out from meowing at me he actually stopped following me around and laid down to meow at me. They certainly weren’t starving. There was food in the food island. They know how to get it. Both of them. I guess it’s not as good as when you’re SERVED food.
Taco’s finally shut up, although he has a new, weird obsession with eating my clutch purse. The boyfriend is home and we’re sitting in football-induced silence, and it’s lovely. Yay.
Meowwy christmas!
Here are some pictures of cats. Because I’m lazy.
Cute picture dump day. Brain doesn’t feel like writing. Must concentrate on football.
You remember how I like #catwang? Well, now there’s #imaunicorn. Yeah. It’s awesome.
- Moosh sleeping on furniture meant for him!
Even devils look like angels when they’re sleeping.
Too tired to even lift his head.
SO CUTE SLEEPING!
Never a dull day…
Cats really make life interesting.
I mean, who knows how bored I would be without them? For example: Tuesday, I had a few minutes to sit on my ass in between work and the gym and more work. Taco was such a dear that he vomited food all over our comforter again! Stripping the bed and tossing it all in the wash (after removing the food particles, of course) was such a PERFECT alternative! Because I have a lot of time to do laundry several times over.
You’re welcome for the clean bed to sleep on.
I suppose it was better that I saw it rather than the boyfriend NOT see it and lay in it (it was all on his side of the bed), but cleaning up kitty puke is never my favorite chore. My mom’s cats (also my cats) puke on her bed all the time. Now I understand how she feels.
I’m starting to think that perhaps I should just cover every surface in plastic like an old lady. I mean, the couches are already covered in puppy pads and our mattress has a waterproof case on it (we bought a new, very uncheap new mattress not that long ago and decided for that sort of investment we should guard against possible Taco pee, even though he’s never done it there. So far, though, it’s only been tested by me falling asleep holding a beer. It worked. Phew.) so we might as well just take the extra step to encase it all. Shrink wrap?
Can you spot what’s wrong with this picture?
I love my boys and all, but don’t they know that I don’t get paid for cleaning up after them?
The question of the day: Did the cats miss us?
Unequivocally, yes.
Too much, in fact. I was pleased to be greeted by both boys. I dropped the boyfriend off at a friend’s house (prior plans, but I just wanted to go home) so I am currently the only target of affection.
LOOOOOOOOOOVEEEEEE
So much affection. Taco has followed me meowing for 3 fulls hours now. Everywhere I go, there he is. It’s ridiculous. I mean, I’m glad they weren’t mad at us for having left them for 3 days but I didn’t expect that Taco would be so concerned upon my return that I would leave again. Moosh has been lovey but modestly so, especially in comparison to Mr. Attached To Mommy’s Hip.
This was my greeting. Plenty of meowing as well.
I missed my babies too. My mom totally spoiled them. There’s so much food in their bowls they could eat for a week. This is why her cats are overweight. She’s always very concerned about kitties going hungry. She worries about this with humans, too, which is why she brings me vegan cake all the time, usually right when I have sworn to eat healthily (even though being vegan, my food intake is generally on the healthy side, except for my weakness for french fries).
But I do really appreciate her feeding them and checking on them each day. Who knows what kind of trouble they would have gotten into otherwise? My puke-soiled duvet cover is in the dryer as we speak, and if that’s the worst that happened, I’m vaguely ok with that.
We both work two jobs…you’d think they’d be more used to us NOT being home.
Beach view
Either way, I’m glad to be back, even though it feels like I never left. In case you’re wondering, Ft. Myers Beach is a very lovely destination. I don’t know what it’s like for spring break or during the summer but it was mostly older people and Germans. I don’t know why that area attracts a plethora of Germans, but MAN, is it ever full of them. I wish the weather had cooperated a bit more, but it was pretty and it’s always nice to get away with the boyfriend.
While the cat’s away…the…um…cats will play.
We’ve been gone one day. One.
That is exactly how long it took Taco to get to what I THOUGHT was an unreachable place (about head-high on a wire baker’s rack), grab a bag of treats (that I JUST bought yesterday), drag them upstairs ONTO our bed, shred the package, eat all the treats, and puke twice. On the bed.
Thank you to my mother for appreciating my worry that the cats would make trouble while we were gone and investigating even though there was no immediate sign of trouble. Mommy instinct is apparently live and well in our genes. And thank you for cleaning the puke off the comforter, even though I know you’re used to it with your own boys at home.
I mean, really? Taco, C’MON, MAN!
Lady, you ain’t leavin’.
Off to the beach…without the kitties *gasp*
The boyfriend and I are taking a minitrip. We’re not going far (we live in Florida, after all) but it will be away from the boys. Although they will be cat sat by a most dependable kitty mommy (my own) I worry about the trouble these boys will get into. It was suggested to me that perhaps my cats aren’t really as weird as I think they are, that I’m such a crazy cat lady that I watch them more closely than normal people watch their cats.
This may be true. But part of the reason I watch them so closely is because I’ve had so many crazy incidents when I don’t. Normal people’s cats don’t eat the handles off garbage bags. Taco is seriously a bad toddler who does things merely to get attention. Actually, now that I think about it, he’s at his worst when he’s right in front of my face. THAT’S when he uses his reserve of “bad cat.” Just a second ago he started batting at the laptop cord that’s sitting next to me. It’s normally well within his reach and he doesn’t bother with it. Now it’s something that he can demonstrate his brattiness on with an audience.
So maybe they’ll be fine. They tend to half-hide from my mom anyway. For two cats who have never known anything but love and affection from everyone that’s ever come in contact with (and considering that the two people that come in contact with them most often sometimes use them for their own amusement), their aversion from people other than me and the boyfriend is baffling. Moosh will be good. At 4, he only feels kittenish half the time. He will, of course, miss “Mommy Moosh Time” but he’ll forget by the time we get back. I thought he would hate me the time we went to Hawaii and boarded him for a week, but he acted like no time had passed and he’d been at home all along.
I’m sure they’ll be upset that we’re not taking them along to what would be nature’s litter box (by that I mean the beach in general, it’s not like we’re going to some el grosso beach) but they’ll live, so long as my mom can figure out the litter genie (they didn’t have diaper genies 30 years ago, it seems).
Taco is currently putting his paw in my glass of water and drinking it from his paw. He has a giant water bowl about 10 feet away. I’m going to have to start buying sippy cups. Those paws have been in poop. Gah.
Avoiding the mews.
Today is election day. I’m nervous. So I’m trying to avoid watching the news. I dropped off my ballot yesterday (drive-thru!) so my vote is in…I’m worried about the rest of the country. It’s also the boyfriend’s birthday, but we’re not doing anything because Tuesday birthdays are really no fun.
So in the interest of distraction, I’m posting cute kittehs.
Moosh where he’s not supposed to be…
Taco after snatching a skeeter right out of the air. And promptly losing it in his paw because it was so tiny.
Taco stoned on calming treats.
Moosh furrin’ up my pillow
And that’s all until tomorrow, folks, when I wake up and feel as depressed as I do on Tuesday mornings when I see that I lost fantasy football AGAIN (only this is a 4-year sadness, there’s no “coming back” next year) or hopeful and appreciative of my fellow Americans. Fingers crossed!
I was minding my own business. Then a cat came along.
Here I am, minding my own business, sitting on the bed with the laptop. The boyfriend has been laying in the same bed almost all day watching football. Taco is nowhere to be found.
Then the boyfriend decided to get up and shave. This apparently triggered Taco to appear from underneath the bed, filled with vim and vigor, meowing. Of course, this means he wants attention. So he jumps up on the bed and prances all around me meowing, rubbing his face on my laptop and stepping over me.
Where does he end up? Forcing himself on my lap, or rather, on my stomach, in the space that my laptop isn’t.
This space will do.
After only a few minutes of seeming as if he’d settled in for the long haul, he looked up at me, meowed, got off and laid down with his head on the laptop.
HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEYYYYYYYYY
That wasn’t working, so he moved to the opposite corner of the bed where he is currently watching me intently. I don’t know what he thinks I’m going to do that’s so interesting. Or perhaps he’s trying to play coy. Cats are weird.
A Frankenstorm post: Help the kitties!
As a lifelong Florida resident, I am all-too-familiar with the dangers of hurricanes and the aftermath. Of course, Sandy was an anomaly in the world of hurricanes, a once in a 1000-year event, which on its own is super fascinating. However, she was also quite a bitch.
Although I am definitely a Florida girl and will likely never move, I have had torrid love affairs with New York City. I love it so that despite the fact that it actually has winters, I have actually considered moving there. I have a big place in my heart for that amazing city, and it breaks my heart to see all the damage there, not so much to the Financial District but the LES, St. Marks, the East Village…my favorite vegan bakery is without power (BabycakesNYC, heart them)! My best friend lives in Long Island and although she escaped damage, she’s expected to be without power for 7-10 days.
Drinkin’ PBRs and eatin’ vegan hot dogs at Crif Dogs in St. Marks
One of my facebook friends posted something the other day about how he hoped that an apparently famous colony of feral cats who reside under the Atlantic City boardwalk were collected by the group that looks after then before the storm. This, combined with all the fundraising efforts I’ve seen for the people affected, got me thinking about how the animal rescues there probably really need some help too. No one has benefit concerts for them, and we all know non-profit groups (especially no-kill shelters) have a hard enough time staying afloat. So I did some research.
For one, I learned that Alley Cat Allies, the group that traps, neuters and releases the feral cats under the aforementioned boardwalk, reported that “many cats have already returned to their colonies after the devastating weather.” Animals ARE smarter than humans, after all — the kitties got the eff outta Dodge. But I found this page: it lists a few of the shelters and rescues that were affected by the storm and need help. So please, if you can, remember the kitties (and doggies) and donate to a shelter up there in need. People tend to get caught up in the human element in disasters like this and forget about animals because hey, they’re just animals, right? Except they’re not, not to me. I would risk my life to save my cats. I would hope that if a hurricane hit here, which is really not that unlikely, that there would be help for my boys in the event something happened to me. Or if my roof blew off and they got out. Who knows? Nature is unpredictable.
So if you can, throw in 10 bucks. Or even give to your own local shelter in a show of moral support. They all could use the help.
MEOW hear this! 