Tagged: purr

May 20, 2012

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.

May 15, 2012

Really, really weird cat.

So, Moosh. He’s a weirdo. After we initially fell in love with his face nuzzling, we got him home to learn his many quirks.

In addition to googly eyes, he also has one tiny fu manchu whisker on his chin.

First, he was kinda cross-eyed when he was younger. We really didn’t think he could see up close at all. It seems to have straightened out a bit but sometimes I still don’t think he can see up close. He also needed to try everything once. I found him climbing a wall. He singed his whiskers sniffing a candle. He’s never done either of these things again.

We also learned that he was a biter. If you walked away from playing with him, he would lunge at your leg and bite your calf. Not hard, but weirdly…like he would just open his mouth and aim at your leg. No paws, just like a shark. He’s a little better now that he’s older but every once in awhile he gets a wild hair and nips.

Most random thing ever: he licks blinds. I don’t know WHY he licks blinds, but he tends to do it more in mornings than he does at other times of the day.

He has the pussiest of meows. I know from past experience that he is capable of a howl, but he chooses to squeak instead. He is the bigger of the two cats and it’s hilarious to hear them whine together…Taco’s big MRROOOOWW to Moosh’s “mreep”

He gets what we call the “skinny face” when he’s happy. It’s hard to explain, but his face looks skinnier when he’s in la-la-land purring. It might have something to do with his eyes getting super dilated to make his face extra black (because, as you know, black is slimming), but then, he does that when he’s ready to pounce too. Who knows.

Do not want.

He loves the vet. He hates getting there, but once he’s there he parades around the exam table like it’s his time to shine. He doesn’t even mind the rectal thermometer.

He HAS to be up there.

He perches. You can’t just hold him. He needs to be on your shoulders. He’s really pretty good there, although he claws the boyfriend a lot because he never listens to me. You have to adapt to his climb and put your arm up to help. Otherwise a back paw will gouge your chest…or push your shirt down, putting you at risk for flashing.

I like these perches most of the time (when I’ve been dutiful about clipping his claws), there is nothing quite like walking around with a cat as a parrot on your shoulder.

May 13, 2012

For the cat moms (or whatever kind of animal your baby is)

Happy Mother’s Day to the forgotten — the mothers of the furry ones. The mothers who will forever answer the question “When are you going to have kids?” with the answer “I have cats.” Those of us who are amazing at raising furballs, who read the labels on cat food, who don’t just think of their animals as pets.

Kitteh mommy and proud of it!

We’re just as mother-y as if we’d given birth, but with some extra perks. My babies will never borrow my car, go on dates with strange boys, never stay out all night or get arrested. I can lock them in my house without DCF coming after me.

I worry about them as much as I would if I had a human baby, obsessing over odd behavior and whether it’s vet-worthy. And I can do this, because I know them so well that I know when one is even the slightest bit off.

I’m not saying we’re better than human mothers, we’re just a different breed. It takes all kinds in this world and someone’s gotta do it. Kittehs need love too. And they give it back ten-fold.

So to all the mommies out there, the kitty mommies, the dog mommies, the ferret mommies — whatever kind of animal mommy you are — HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY. Even if your cats forgot to get you a card (*cough cough* thanks a lot, boyfriend), I salute you.

And Happy Mother’s Day to the Evil Stepmother (who is not really evil at all), who is also a great kitty mommy and who was the only person on the planet who could have ever convinced my dad to get a cat.

And last but by FAR not the least, Happy Mother’s Day to my own awesome mommy, who not only raised a good kitty mommy but who is a fabulous kitty mommy and grandmommy herself. I LOVE YOU!

The woman who gave this crazy cat lady life.

May 10, 2012

Why naming your cat is irrelevant.

Kitty eyes see all.

I’m pretty sure that not a single one of my cats has ever come out of their mother’s womb, been named something, and kept that name throughout their entire life.

Furthermore, once a cat name IS officially chosen and is permanent enough to be the one on file at he vet’s (although I have one that goes under a different name and one we had to change at the vet, read on), it is very rare that when talking to the cat, the cat is actually referred to as that particular name.

Shadow –> Baby
Ernie –> Chaos –> Fatty a.k.a. “Big Guy” at the vet, my mother refuses to let his official vet name be Fatty. In fact, she refuses to even call him Fatty.
Original name forgotten –> Mikey –> Little
Gus –> Jager
Oz –> Porkchop –> Moosh Moosh
Fernando –> Taco

Now, all of these names are used here and there, but most of the time either generic baby-talk names are instead or variations of the name. My favorites include Boo Bear, Boo Boo, Babycakes, Kittania, Snuggleface, Poopbutt, Bunny, Stinkers, Stinko, Fatboy or STOP IT NOW.

Moosh Moosh in all his glory.

Moosh Moosh, on any given day, could be Moosh Mash, MooshyMooshyMooshy, Mooshito, Mooshcakes, Mooshface, Skooshers, Skooshy, or MoshiMoshi. When we got him, we really thought he was a good Porkchop until he smooshed our faces so much that Moosh Moosh just stuck.

Fatty? Well, that’s easy. Fat Fatty McFatterson, FattyCakes, Fatty Lumpkins, Fattilicious, Fatbaby.

Jager — Jagger, Woogie, Jagermeister or Cougar.

Taco, by far, has the most, I guess it’s just the easiest to mess around with — Taquito, Yablito, Tikki-Taco, Tablo, Cobblers, Jocko, Yacko, Taquerita, Toblerone, Yablo, Chimichanga, Blobblo or Taco-san.

And yes, I do speak to my cats in baby talk. Wanna make something of it?

Moosh Moosh ain’t havin’ any of it.

May 8, 2012

Taco, the Cat Jekyll and Hyde. Part 2.

So now you know why Taco is the devil incarnate. But for every evil, there is a good. Taco kinda takes both sides to the limit. He’s not big on moderation.

Taco’s saving graces:

He doesn’t just sit down. He hurls himself onto the floor. It’s a melodramatic “WHUMP!”
He melts. I have never seen a more melty cat. When he lays down he BECOMES whatever he’s laying on.
This is one of his deep sleeps.
He snuggles with me at night. I’ll wake up to find him stretched alongside me, at which point I have to start petting him because he’s so damn cute. Then he starts purring, which wakes Jason up because he’s like a motorboat. This is a point of contention between us, I find it soothing. Last night he melted on my chest. This MAY be why I am so tired today — who can sleep with a PURRING KITTY PUDDLE on you?
He purrs all the time. I love it.
He happy meows. Whenever you touch him, he does this thing that is a mix between purring, meowing, and that weird “MRRRRP” noise cats do. My favorite is when he does it when he’s half asleep, it turns into a gurgling yawn.
When he sniffs the floor, he comes back up with his mouth slightly open.
This kitty is “special”
He can jump chest high. Literally. And when he does, he hurls himself into the air with absolutely no control, getting sideways and shit. He once hit his head on the bottom of the counter. It also makes for some very awkward landings.
We think he’s part bengal. His fur is, as my vet called it, luminescent. His colors are so vivid. From afar he looks like a regular brown tabby but when you get up close you can see how beautiful he is (I realize I am like every other mother in the world who thinks their child is the best, don’t care, I’m right).
Both cats love my closet. Go figure.
He’s the alpha male of the house, even though Moosh is bigger and older.
Despite his alpha male status, he’s a pussy at the vet. He shakes the whole time.
When he and Moosh fight, it’s like watching the Matrix.
He can catch bugs like no other. Sometimes even at the expense of a stinger in the mouth.
He is chock full of personality.
He has a little freckle on his left temple.
He hates when Moosh sniffs his butt. I do too. It’s so unbecoming.
When he jumps on the bed, he usually does it with a full running start, a meow and a leap. Sometimes he overshoots.
He has a brush-like thing shaped like an arch that is meant for the cats to rub on and therefore remove loose hair, but Taco puts his head upside down (JUST his head) and chomps on it. No clue why he needs to do it upside down or how it could possibly feel good in his mouth.
Did I mention the melty thing? God, he’s cute. I mean, really cute.
SO PRETTY

At the end of the day, the cute thing is probably what saves his ass. Oh, and I love him. Jason does too, when he’s not giving him the silent treatment for peeing on the couch.

May 5, 2012

Fat Fatty McFatterson

He’s large and in charge.

Fatty’s the OG black kitty. I was 16, totally into punk rock and rebelling (while still being a mostly good kid as far as teenagers go) when my mom and I were at the thrift store for Friends of Strays. So convenient that they had kittens there as well.

I don’t remember why Mom relented and was so easily talked into a kitten, but Fatty (his name was Ernie then) was a tiny black fluffball with fu manchu whiskers and a purr that would melt ice.

I decided Chaos was his name, because, as I said, I was into punk rock and rebelling. It didn’t strike me at the time that this wasn’t a particularly great cat name. Not until we got another kitten two years later and he somehow morphed into Fatty while the kitten morphed into Little (CREATIVE ALERT).

Fatty likes to eat. Like, REALLY likes to eat. In fairness, he is a medium-haired cat so some of his bulk is fur. Aside from that, though, I have, on occasion, caught him laying on the floor with a bag of food knocked over and a fat paw casually scooping morsels into his mouth.

Sure, you fit in that.

He’s also a momma’s boy. In retrospect, I guess they all are. I take a certain pride in that. He’s been there for almost half of my life. When I moved out of my mom’s, I visited every weekend for months even though he was so pissed at me he wouldn’t come near me, resulting in months of weekends of tears and wailing “My baby doesn’t LOVE me anymore!”

He’s had his share of costly vet stuff, like the oh-so-common-in-male-cats crystals, but last week got really sick with severe anemia. It heartbreaking to see him so lifeless. So he got a blood transfusion, buying him some time for his body to start building up his own blood cells again. This is not a guarantee. Fortunately, he’s made a lot of headway getting better, so much so that he fights off his pills with claws of fury. Here’s a million-dollar idea: start a mobile “cat pill feeding” service. Taco figured out the pill pocket trick and won’t touch them and Moosh is such a picky eater that he turns up his nose at the pill pockets anyway.