I desided to take the dae off tooday. I am furry turred frum un-decurating the treeee, and Mom has bin surt of stingy wif the gooh-gahs, wich nurmally keeep meee going. In pro-test, I'm sleeeping an not cuddling wif Mom.
Hopefully, that willl teech hur!
- Luky how pritty I cun be! Mom an Dad got a new camra fur Crissmass, an Dad tuk this wunnerful picher uf me. I luv siting unner the treee an peeeking thru the lites. I gess weer lukky we still haf lectrisity. We had a hooge sturm, an over a million howses lost thare power. We ar nice an warm an cuddly, an all the lites on the treee get to stay on all the time.
- Weer pretty prowd of Bean. We herd hur hurling, an she acchuly hurled on a plait insted uf the carpot. That is sumthing that deserfs some extra gooh-gahs!
My Mom has bin crying a lot this mourning. She wuz furry sad to heer abowt Libby. Mom cant hanndel deth furry well, speshuly kittie deth. She thinks uf all hur speshul kittie frends frum hur life, an rememburs how much joy an luv she has gottun frum them. Hur kitties haf saved hur life menny times.
Libby an all uther kitties will remembered always.
MY FAVORITE CHRISTAMAS TREE ORNAMENTS
I havn't blogged lately. I been beeing a gud kittie fur my Mom. She has had a bowt wif "depresshun." It makes hur feel down an owt, an it's mi reponsibilty tu sit wif hur an purr, and lik, an reech owt mi paws to hur. It takes a reel smart kittie to accept this mishun, an I take it reel seeriously. I'm not leeving hur alone eefun fur a minnit. That's mi duty. Beefor blogging.
Mom decided she wus going to clene howse today. I had to spend a lot of time under the Safety Chair to protect mysulf. Since Kitten an Bean hurl all the time, Mom pulls out this awful snake-hissything she calls a "stemer." It spews out hot, wet air, and then clenes all our hard wurk. Meen, meen Mommy. She got all swetty, ha-ha.
In the end, she appeesd us with sum nu orgasmic treets frum tradr jos. It wurked, an now we are happy agin.
We are very sad today. Our Mom's sister's kittie passed away. The vet diagnosed her with inoperable lung cancer. Oopsie was a remarkable 23 years old, the oldest kittie I ever knew of. She didn't like anyone but her mom (she even chased Mom's brother around the house- brave kittie!)
She will always be with us, and she is now with all our friends that we have lost.
When me Mom un Dad got a salebote, there wus talk uf Kitty Life Jakets so we cud join them on du watur (luckily, dat talk died down reul qwik.) I'm glad, becuz I hid under the Safety Chair and evesdroped on one of deir convursashuns, and I was affwaid, furry affwaid. Haf your paws ready to put offur your eyes- these aren't pwetty.
In de sea, thare are fish made out of jelly, and the jelly can sting yu! EEEEK. Mom an Dad see thum all the time!
Den deir are the world's biggust Octopi here, an I think they are called Octopuss's. Oh, my. Dey haf 8 legs, an are furry smart. Are they related to Pussy Cats? I think an hope not.
Ratfish- dose are sort uf self-explanatory, but I don't think I want to catch one- effun fur my Mom.
Hear is a sea-woofie, a wolf-fish. U'd think U wudn't haf to watch out for woofies under da water!
Okay, here is the wurst an most shocking (the hair on my ears is standing up strate!) there ar sharks here! I'm so scared! To think that Mom an Dad are out there... I cun only hope their will is updated, an dat we are well provided fur!
So, Fellow Felines, beware of Vishus Deer an Vishus Sea-Animules!
Cecilia asked why I like going to jail- here's the story. When I first joined the cat kingdom, The Others were not-so-happy. They locked me under a chair upstairs, and wouldn't let me go downstairs. They had Feline-Power that I was unable to break. After a long time, they allowed me to go downstairs, and I was finally able to eat and wee in the big rooms.
After some time, I found a hidden power that I could lord over Kitten. It was a turning point! I simply had to get in his face, and he would get all upset and move backwards- I didn't even have to lay a paw on him! As I perfected my power, I was able to back him around the perimeter of the living room. Mom started getting worried that the old Kitten would get a stress-related Kitten heart attack. She tried yelling at me; didn't work- she tried picking me up and putting me somewhere else to interrupt my power; didn't work either.
In our old (1906) house, we had a dining room that was connected to the living room by French doors, and the doors were kept shut to keep us out. Mom finally got so frustrated with my power that she said, "That's it, you're going to jail!" She opened the doors and threw me in the dining room. I liked it.
When she let me out, I went right back to utilizing my power. Same consequence. After awhile, I picked on Kitten just so I could go to jail. I would use my power and then go and sit in front of the doors. If Mom wouldn't get off her lazy butt, the routine would be repeated. I finally skipped using my power and would just sit and wait to be thrown into jail. I liked to stare out through the lace while Kitten and Sprankeltje would stare at me from the living room.
I miss our old house.
My will will be realized!
that's not it.
The things about cats is
they're always looking at you.
Especially when you're asleep.
Some cats pretend they're not looking
until you're not looking.
They are not to be trusted.
Some cats scowl because the're wearing
imitation fur. They feel inferior.
Some other cats look at you straight on
so that you can't drink your drink
or make love
but keep thinking
that cat's loking at me straight on.
But all cats do the same
they look at you
and you look out
A cat is not a conscience; I'm not
What I'm saying is
why are they looking?
~~ John L'Heureux
Hi, my name is Sprankeltje, which means "Little Sparkle" in Dutch. I am a Calico, and therefore weird. I was adopted from the Humane Society when I was 6 weeks old. The Humane Society had just started spaying/neutering animals before they could leave the shelter, so I had some stitches on my belly. I had an amazingly loud voice for my size- in fact I had been left at the shelter because I was "too loud." When I arrived at my new home, I just had to run up the stairs, which I had never seen before. I made it most of the way up before I went tumbling down ass over teakettle. Mom was wailing about my stitches, but they remained intact.
I was weird from the get-go. I didn't like people being nice to me- I enjoyed abuse. I wanted to be dropped upside down on chairs, being stuffed in a bag and twirled around and being pounded on. If I purred, it was purely against my will, and it meant that my body was betraying me.
I also love water. I pat it with my paws, splash around and put my paw in it and drag the dish out into the middle of the floor so Mom can step in it- it just never gets old. I love getting baths, and sit like a lump in the tub.
My nick-name "Bean" came from "String Bean" because I had long skinny legs. Those days are gone. I am guided by the hunt for constant food. I walk like an armadillo, with my back humped up. I am a stealth-eater, and I will sit immobile over a dish so that it looks like I'm not really eating. Fools them every time. Mom always says that I don't really look very bright (like I can't even hear her!) Apparently I have no pupils and I'm always looking at nothing. I have a really hard time focusing on what is happening directly around me. I like to sit in a corner and stare into it.
As time wore on (I'm now 10 years old) I began to re-think the kindness angle, but in a weird S&M-kind-of-way. I found I really, really like to be spanked, and that it was wonderful to purr while getting spanked. When visitors come over, I will approach them and assume the position to be spanked. It makes Mom sort of uncomfortable, and it's hard to explain to the poor visitors. I guess in proper society spanking is frowned upon. I'm not that smart.
It's time for me to go put my head into Mom's purse and sleep.
This is a better intro to Mom's dad's (Opa's) cats. Opa lives in a small cabin on a small island. He too has three cats (must be something in the genes!) Names: Willem, Bontepoes and Ma. Their life is pretty idyllic.Willem is a huge, sweet orange tabby. Willem likes to help go to the maibox and pick up the mail everyday. The mailbox is about a block and a half away. He has a harness and leash, and he walks very proudly down the middle of the street. When he hears a car coming, he goes to the ditch and sits in it until the car has passed by. Then he gets up and continues the journey. I don't think that I would do very well on a leash! Mom was very impressed and made sure she told us all about Willem's fantastic feat.