Nicknames: Bear (Torbjorn means Thor's Bear in Norwegian), Bearski, Fuzzy Brother
Birthday: March 27th 2009
Likes: Chasing his jingle ball around the house and getting treats, He also likes watching the squirrels eat sunflower seeds on the deck.
Pet-Peeves: Being picked up when he doesn't want to be. And cat shows. Especially cat shows.
Favorite Toy: Jingle ball!
Favorite Nap Spot: Top level of the cat tree.
Favorite Food: Freeze-dried cod, chicken or venison.
Skills: He likes to "sit" against the doorjamb or the wall with his hind legs stretched out and his belly showing.
Arrival Story: We just wanted another kitten, and ended up with two (Victoria the Ragdoll joined us, too)
Bio: Bear came to us from Kashi Saga cattery. His full name is Kashi Saga Pirate Torbjorn. Showing a cat was on my "bucket list," so Bear was groomed and primped and went to cat shows for about a year. He won quite a few ribbons, but gradually grew to dislike being judged (can't blame him there!) After he hissed at several judges and took a swipe at one, I got the hint. Bear is a gorgeous example of his breed, but he doesn't need a ribbon or a trophy to prove it!
She keeps assuring us that this is not as awful a thing for humans as it would be for cats, but Mom has lost her sense of smell. She had a sinus infection a couple of weeks ago, and last weekend at the beach, she realized that her smeller had gone kaput.
She accompanied a friend into a gift shop with all sorts of handmade scented soaps and lotions. Normally Mom doesn't go into places like that because her allergies go berserk when confronted with all those fragrances at once. But this time she picked up the soaps, all labeled with their fragrances, and couldn't detect any scent at all. Her friend was slathering on ginger-citrus hand lotion, and it might as well have been water for all Mom could tell.
Now this could be a good thing, because food flavors have disappeared as well, and Mom could stand to lose a few pounds. But there's a downside.
She can't smell the grass when she mows it. She can't smell the peonies. She can't ... um ... smell the cat box. She has to rely on Dad to tell her if it's possible that there's a dead mouse hidden under the sofa, or if the wet spot on the towel that got left on the floor is just water, or something else.
The humans were gone only three days. Left Friday morning and came back late afternoon on Sunday. They said they were at the beach. Looks like the world's biggest cat box to me.
Couldn't have been too much fun, because we watched it rain on the deck all day Friday and most of Saturday. But they said they had fun anyway, and that Saturday night and Sunday the weather was nice.
Given that it was a short absence, and that they brought new toys to make it up to us, we have decided to reserve our revenge for later. Notice that this does not mean there will be no revenge, only that the humans will not know what they're being punished for when it happens. We like to keep them guessing.