Ugh. A New Dog.

Yes, we have a new dog. Yeah, she's a total moron. Of course, I can't bring myself to hate her. Big ol' softy.

If you want to know my thoughts on the matter, you'll have to see Isis' diary. For once, we are of one mind.

Over and out,
The Muffin Man

From the Desk of The Muffintop:

Helloooo, Catfriends! Muffintop here, just checking in. It's been quite a while since my last entry. Mom's new job keeps her in front of the computer all day, so now she wants nothing to do with The Laptop when she's at home. Dad's a horrible typist, and can't take dictation, and I don't much care for the keyboard on The Laptop...so you see, we're at an impasse (as they say).

Things are much the same as ever here, although I'm due for another tooth cleaning soon. Not really looking forward to that at all. Nosirree Bob. I take solace in knowing that Delphi has to go to the vet soon, too. Shots or something. Ahem.

I had another birthday, as did Isis and Delphi. We're all of us a year older, a year wiser, and a good bit fatter, I daresay (Even Isis is developing 'The Pouffy Tummy'). I've been having a new wet food these days, too. Mom says it's better for me than Fancy Feast or the Meow Mix Wet Food, and I'm inclined to agree. This stuff's got CALAMARI (visible calamari, even. You can totally see the little rings of sweet delicious Sea Creature mingling in a delightful sauce), SHRIMP, TUNA, sometimes some perfectly steamed white rice.

I confess, I had no idea such luxury existed. Pet Gold, I adore you.

Well, then. I suppose I should give Her Majesty some computer time before Mom puts away the laptop!

Over and Out,
Nerosan

Warning! Springtime Rant Ahead!

I lay here on the back of the armchair near the window, listening to the new yet familiar sounds of thunder and rain drifting along outside. They are muffled when one is indoors; not nearly as loud as it was when the rain dripped off my nose and I huddled in semi-dry corners or in the shelter of a shrub.

Ah, but you've heard it all before, Catfriends. My springtime rant. It's always the same. The weather begins to get warmer, The Vent often fails me in my quest for heat, and the sounds of thunder begin to scrabble through these cozy walls.

It is time for The Porch, dear readers. Time for Springtime Nerosan, bawling at the closed door in order to be let out, all the while, loving my life indoors. It is not easy being so conflicted. Alas, such is the life of a stray, when he's made a comfortable living on is own, and then makes an even more comfortable one as an esteemed family member in a home that was generous enough to help an ol' fella out.

If we could just find a balance of indoors and outdoors, I'd be well-pleased. But I watch the busy street from my window and know that Mom's wise to keep me in (unless I'm wily enough to escape).

So, you see, The Porch is my only link to my former life in the outdoors, and I can't wait until it's 'Cat-Ready' for Spring!

I hope all of my Catfriends are having a lovely Spring so far.

Your Little Buddy,
Nerosan, The Muffin Man

My New Portrait!

Happy St. Patrick's Day to all my Irish catfriends (and to all my 'Irish-at-heart' catfriends, too)! Many years ago on this day, the fabled Saint Patrick drove all the snakes out of Ireland. That's about all I know of St. Patty's Day. My Mom is Scottish, so that sucks all the fun out of it. I celebrated in my own little way, by batting the green Christmas mouse around the living room for a while. I hope you're all enjoying the holiday, too!

You might have noticed I have a handsome new portrait (and that Isis does not. Tee-hee)! Allow me to introduce you, my dear friends, to 'The Vent'. This is my spot. As you can most certainly see, I am totally in my element while communing with The Vent.

Now you can understand how a cat such as myself could stick all 4 paws through The Vent, and have a nice nap against it, basking in the gentle old-fashioned warmth. It's always been so hard to explain!

Of course, Mom and Dad had nothing to do with that piece of photographic genius. No, my friends, that was the work of Cat K. Lee (you've got to love a person named Cat), the very nice lady with the big camera, who seemed unduly interested in Delphi. Perhaps she followed Delphi around to entertain us, because it WAS hilarious.

Delphi of course, was terrified of the camera, and the ensuing chaos was quite to my liking. Picture this: One very stupid dog, desperate for escape from the object of terror; one very nice lady, trying hard to get a picture without capturing the expression of witless angst on the dog's droopy face; one coaxing Mom, armed with enough tortilla chips to feed a small army, and spending them liberally on the shaky investment of keeping Delphi in the same room as the camera.

Regardless, Ms. Lee couldn't resist taking a couple shots of The Muffintop, who is always photogenic, and you have the proof right here in the pudding. Not bad for a stray, eh? Or at least, a reformed stray...

Anyway, many thanks to Cat K. Lee for her very flattering photograph. I do appreciate it!

I hope all my cat friends out there are having a great day!
Your friend,
Over and Out

Nerosan, the Muffintop

My Favorite.

It is a fact that I love Venison. It is also true that sometimes, I am very naughty. Is it merely coincidence that 'venison' and 'naughty' always seem to make an appearance at the same time? I can't really say, and I don't really want to.

I do like venison a whole lot, though. It's a dysfuctional relationship, really. Venison of every sort is a bad influence on me. For some reason, when there's venison around, I can't think rationally. Stupid ideas possess me, and I am compelled to do naughty things. But I do it all for the Venison.

There's nothing I wouldn't do for a slab of tasty venison. Why, given the chance, I'd go out deer hunting myself. I can't wield a rifle or anything like that. I know my limitations. But I could certainly holler at a deer. Maybe if I was hunting with a person, he could look at whatever I'm hollering at, and shoot it. I'd feel better if I'd at least assisted in procuring the vension I'm about to steal from that plate.

Look at those plump, heavenly cajun venison sausages! Why, they may as well have sprouted tap shoes and danced before me, I'm so pleased to see them! What's this? Mom has taken Delphi outside, and Dad went to the kitchen to get a glass of water? Well then. Don't mind if I do.

Hello, Venison. My name is Nerosan. Allow me to escort you to Mom's shoe closet, where I will be very well-pleased to have you for dinner.

With Dubious Intent,

The Muffin Man

The Dandy

I have a confession. I am not a 'lap cat'. I take no pleasure in sitting on a lap; those unstable places, on which a feline must perch and wobble into a quasi-comfortable position.

A lap only exists when a person is sitting down. And it's too easy to get rid of a cat on a lap. Just sweep us over to a cold couch cushion, and away you go!

People stand up too often. That little thing on the table makes a racket, and they leap up to tell it 'hello'; someone rings the bell at the door, and they're running to open it. Humans are crazy, always hurrying to answer the call of some bell or whistle. That's why laps are unreliable.

No, I'm no 'lap cat'. I'm a snuggler. Aw, jeez, I hate to admit it, but I'm a total snuggler. I prefer to be held tightly against a person's chest. All the better to dole out the headbutts and affectionate nose licking.

I am an equal opportunity snuggler. Even if I only met you a mere 5 minutes ago; if you're on the couch, you're fair game for a good snuggling. I'll climb right up onto your chest, and give you my patented 'Thunder Purr Headbutt'. Then what can you do? It's the cutest thing that's ever happened to you! You can't resist. You simply must hug me.

And then you're trapped. You're in for a snuggling. Like it or not, I'm here for the long haul. Most people who fall into the 'like it not' category are converted before the session is over. Even the most ardent cat haters have been compelled to adopt a cat after having been selected for a good snuggling, courtesy of The Muffin Man. Yep. I'm an old softy.

I've really sort of come to accept it. My paw pads are soft as rose petals, and have a cheery pinkish hue. My fur is brilliant white, and there's not a speck of dirt on my face. These facts lead me to believe I'm no longer qualified to claim 'Tough-Guy-Alley-Cat" status. I'm no longer the calzone-devouring, mocha-swilling, dumpster-diving stray I used to be.

I've become the typical pampered pet. There's food anytime I want it (yeah, it's no ruben on rye, but then again, I'm not rooting through the garbage for it, either. It's a decent trade), clean water served in a white cup and saucer with a gold rim on the coffee table, a multitude of toys to bat around, and special little spots around the house that have been set up with my comfort in mind. And the snuggling. Lawd, the snuggling.

My grisled, battle-scarred buddies from back in the Stray Days would poke fun at me now. They'd totally call me a Dandy, but I think I'm okay with that. I got these satiny-soft toes from blessed leisure and tender care. I got super-lucky, and I know it. I am a Japanese Bobtail, you know; luck runs in our bloodline!

I sure hope those stodgy old fellas have found a similar setup. Nobody appreciates a warm loving home like an ex-stray, I've always said.

Well, I've jabbered your little ears off, Cat Friends. Time to go! I've got a date with The Vent.

Fond Valentine Wishes to you, cats of the internet!

Your Little Buddy,

Nerosan the Muffintop (and perpetual bachelor)

Oh Do You Know The Muffin Man?

Why yes, in fact; you do! It's yours truly, and I'm none too proud of it. It's my new nickname, and Mom's really been pushing this one. Puh-lease. Muffintop was bad enough!

Anyway, I haven't written much lately, because there isn't much to say. A few kitties have been talking about their most embarrassing moments. Well, I have to say, I've had my share. One occured on my Worst Day in Recent Memory (when I longingly reached for my Momma from the Vet's arms after having 9 teeth removed), and I have a new embarrassing moment every time someone catches me snuggling with a baby, or Delphi, or whatever.

I'm supposed to be a tough alleycat, you know. Rough around the edges, slightly feral, and quite unpredictable. And yet, I'm a total softy (not to mention the fact that I'm TOTALLY predictable). So, life is full of embarrassing moments for me.

What's really hilarious, is when Isis has an embarrassing moment. And since she'll never willingly admit that she may not always be in complete and total control of her surroundings, I'm pleased to share a few of them with you.

Embarrassing Isis Moment #1:
This occurred when Isis had the brilliant idea to conquer the shower rod. Apparently, she misjudged its width, because she declared it hers, and attempted to leap up there from the edge of the bathroom sink while I watched from the safety of the floor.

The leap started beautifully. Perfect form, paws outstretched, blue eyes twinkling with anticipation of the moment she'd reach the summit of her graceful arch.

For a moment, I allowed myself a niggling sense of jealousy. My lack of a tail prohibits high jumping. My jealousy, however, was short lived. Isis had completely misjudged her leap, and went sailing over the shower rod.

Fortunately for her, Mom was in the bathroom brushing her teeth, and witnessed the whole event. With lightning speed, she reached out and plucked Isis right out of the air just before she would've hit the hard edge of the tub.

"Geez, Isis, for crying out loud!" Mom exclaimed incredulously to the squirming bundle of brown fur in her arms.

Isis wiggled until she was released, and we saw nothing of her for at least a half-hour. One can only assume she was nursing her sense of humiliation.

Embarrassing Isis Moment # 2:
Oh, she must have been almost a year old at the time. I hadn't found my forever home with Mom and Dad yet, but Mom and Dad still laugh about this from time to time, so I think I know the story well enough to retell it here.

Anyway, Mom and Dad had this entertainment armoire, with a special small compartment to stack VHS cassettes (old school, huh?). Being that it was a specially made compartment, it was only about as wide as a video tape, and maybe an inch short of a foot tall.

Isis, being the inquisitive little thing that she was, decided to leap up into that little cubby and claim it for the throne. But once she got inside, she realized that it was so narrow, she couldn't turn around!

For a full 15 minutes, Mom and Dad giggled as she backed up and went forward in the little space, trying to find a way to face the other direction. Since she couldn't see where she was going, every once in a while, a tiny paw would slip off the edge, and she'd scramble her way back into the little compartment.

Of course, once she had sufficiently worked herself into a fit, she bawled for help, and Dad promptly came to the rescue. Per usual, she sulked for days afterward to punish Mom and Dad for laughing at her.

Embarrassing Isis Moment #3:

Possibly saving the best for last, it's time to tell the tale of, "The Balloon Incident".

Mom had a birthday, and had received one of those mylar balloons. It was attached to a ribbon with a plastic weight at the end, to keep it from floating away.

Of course, Isis couldn't resist the curly ribbon and took up a game of 'Bat the Unknown Object', which eventually turned into 'Wrestle the Unknown Object', which, when the ribbon wrapped around her back paw, became a terrifying game of 'Run in Complete and Utter Terror from the Awful, Scary Helium Balloon'.

Screaming in fear, and running frantically about, Isis tried to escape the balloon. Tragically, since it's tethering ribbon was wrapped around her paw, Mylar Mayhem followed her everywhere, even beneath the table, where Isis had sought refuge from it.

This time, her frantic cries for help went unanswered. Not because Mom and Dad were callously laughing at her terror, but because she was racing around the apartment so fast, that nobody could catch her, and when they did, she clawed at them mercilessly.

Finally, the balloon was wrested from her ankle, and she retreated under the table, where she stayed for several hours, since the balloon was still floating ominously in the room (the ribbon had been safely tied out of reach).

Heh heh...well, that's a good chuckle isn't it, Cat Friends? Almost makes me feel better about being known as The Muffin Man.

Over and Out,
Grudgingly,
Nerosan, the Muffin Man.

They Call Him The Nephew.

"Eamon is here! Quick! Put Isis upstairs, and Delphi downstairs!"

What's this? I stretched groggily, and arose from my catnip mat on the back of the armchair. There was commotion as Delphi was hustled down into 'her room', and Isis meowed indignantly as Dad carried her upstairs.

Nobody ever makes such arrangements for The Muffintop. I get to hang out with everyone.

What's an 'Eamon', you ask? I wasn't sure either. I didn't have to wonder long, though, 'cause Mom and Dad had visitors, and 'Eamon' was a little tiny person with miniature shoes, and very grabby little hands they carried in with them.

"CAT!" Said Eamon the moment he laid eyes on me; he tugged at his mom's pant legs, and repeated, "MOM, CAT!"

Uh oh.

"You wanna meet the kitty, Eamon? You have to be very gentle, okay?" That was MY Mom, leading the little guy over to me.

I sat very still while those clumsy, fat little hands patted my head, but my ears betrayed my consternation at Eamon's riotous shrieks of joy, and plastered themselves against my face.

Okay, enough. I slowly stood up and removed myself from the situation. Under the table I went, fully aware that I was being followed. I angled my ears behind me to hear his toddling steps. This was repeated several times, with me reluctantly allowing myself to be the object of Eamon's affections for a while, then slowly extricating myself with the child in hot pursuit.

Finally, he laid on the floor, and I took the opportunity to get up close and study his face. He looked okay, I decided, and gave him an affectionate nuzzle.

The room erupted in sighs and everyone said something like, "Awwwwww....did you see that? Nero's snuggling with Eamon....oh, that's adorable!"

Aw, geez. Yet again, I've proven myself to be the big old softy.

Over and Out,
Nerosan the Muffintop

Dogs Behaving.....NOT Badly?

I hope you all had a Merry Christmas! Ours was rather quiet, since Mom and Dad were out most of the day, but we got three wet food dinners, some great catnip, and some new toys!

The interesting part is that the toys came from TWO DOGS! Their names are Uncle Chet and Auntie Gilda, and they live at Grandma's house. I am told that Auntie Gilda hasn't ever even SEEN a cat, and Uncle Chet actually bit one of the neighbor's cats when he was a puppy. He not only bit the cat, he tossed it into the air (the cat survived with nary a scratch, but still; what a reprehensible DOG)!

Anyway, I don't believe I've ever received a gift from a DOG. Mom and Dad give me stuff all the time, but I'd never expect something from Delphi. She's nowhere near thoughtful enough to give gifts.

A couple days ago, Scooter received a rosette from a DOG, and yesterday Isis and I received Christmas GIFTS from two DOGS. What is this? Why all the goodwill from DOGS lately? Are the canines trying to make amends for all the slobber, cat-chasing, cat-tossing, and general cat-harrassment in its myriad forms, perpetrated by their species over the centuries? Is this some plot to overthrow cats, who are commonly known as superior housepets? Or is it just because of Christmas, and the fact that most dogs have nice Moms who make them behave for the holidays?

I intended to find the answer. I attempted to ask Delphi, but she merely leaned forward and, with much loud snorting and exhalation, licked my entire face with one sweep of that giant tongue.

Covered in dog-spit, I retreated to my cushions by The Vent to re-wash my face and contemplate this response. Eventually, I realized that I was never going to solve this mystery, for my only source of information on the world of DOGS is Delphi.

Ah well, I'll take the whole thing at face value, and say this: Thank you, DOGS, for being sorta nice lately.

Over and Out,
Nerosan the Muffintop

I Had a Little Brother...

Sounds like a soap opera, doesn't it? Well, in some ways, it was. I never knew my brother, since he was born and raised in Salt Lake City, UT. Even if we HAD met, there would've been a communication barrier, since he was a fish. Even if I could speak Fish, he wouldn't hear me through the fish bowl, and I'm not about to try breathing under water. Regardless, he was my brother for a brief 2 days.

Mom spent a week in Salt Lake City for her job, and she stayed at a great hotel there. It was a Pet-Friendly Hotel, and a rather fancy one at that (um, HELLO! We weren't invited because:....?). Since Mom was traveling for business, and didn't have her pets along, the hotel provided a goldfish, just to keep her company in her room. How nice of them!

And so, I had a new brother. Mom named him Tupper, and they watched TV together in the evenings. Each morning, when Mom left for work, she left the TV on for him. When she got back to the hotel in the evenings, there was Tupper, ready to watch TV or read a book again.

On the third day, when she came home from work, Tupper had been replaced! She knew because he'd had some rather distinctive brownish markings on his fins. The imposter they'd replaced him with, was a pure, golden Goldfish.

Mom promptly called down to the front desk to ask about Tupper, and was told that he'd passed on. Poor Tupper. They said he probably had 'Ick' (something fish get, I guess), and that's why he had those distinctive brown markings. Hrm.

So Tupper was no more. Replaced! Replaced by an inferior goldfish, whom I refuse to recognize as a brother. Mom said he had no interest in TV watching, nor the reading of books, and spent his time mostly facing away from her, while bumping up against the glass of his fish bowl, or looking around for food.

Anyway, this isn't about HIM. It's about Tupper, who took on the job of 2 cats and a dog in Salt Lake City, and I think he did a fairly good job of it, considering he's a fish, and there's no way Mom would EVER want to snuggle a fish. Anyway, he did the best he could, probably. He wasn't feeling well, or anything. So Way to Go, Tupper! Thanks for helping out when we couldn't be there!

Until Next Time,
Nerosan

p.s. I'm closing in on my 1,000th view!!! Thanks to all those friendly cats who've checked out my page, and especially to those faithful friends who visit often.