Kicked in the Head!

This morning my mama was mean to me. She kicked me in the head this morning when all I wanted was her to get up and feed me.

To hear her tell the story, she says she was asleep, and my bad habit of digging my claws into the bed and stretching gets me in more trouble...she says I stuck my claws in her toes and tried to stretch. She says she jerked her foot because I hurt her, and that she didn't mean to kick me.

But see, that's her side of the story. What was really happening is that I couldn't resist seeing her feet go back and forth under the sheet. She was sleeping with her feet at the bottom of the bed, and I came over to investigate what was moving. I simply couldn't hold myself back - I had to attack her feet! It wasn't my fault that she's got a big rip on the bottom of her middle toe - that wouldn't have happened if she'd just let me move the claw myself. No, instead she had to jerk her foot and kick me in the head.

And to add insult to injury, she didn't feed me for another 20 minutes! I can't imagine what's wrong with having breakfast at 4 am, can you?

Popcorn!

Living with my mama, Mackenzie, Taffy the guinea pig, and Henrietta the hamster can be quite an adventure. I just never know what might happen next. I wish Mama would play with me more often, so I must wait around just in case she does.

Like today.

She came home with FISH - I could smell it - and I immediately tried to get it out of the bag for her. But she said no, and put it in the fridge. This displeased me, so I went to lounge in the living room.

Eventually she and Mackenzie came into the living room to watch TV. Mama had a black bag in her hand, and she was eating out of it. I was watching her, because you just never know when Mama might play with me. She was sitting next to the place where I know she hides that laser light that she flashes for me to chase.

Suddenly, I saw something move. I think she threw something! Instantly I sat bolt upright, looking over my shoulder. No, I didn't see anything unusual on the floor that wasn't there when I came into the living room. I turned back to see what Mama might have in her hand, and sure enough, she had something white in her hand. She threw it at me! I raced over to check it out. It smelt yummy, but funny at the same time. It was a white color, too. I've seen this before; Mama calls it popcorn, but this time it smelt like it had cheese on it! I licked it - it tasted like cheese. So I make sure I licked as much of the cheese taste off as I could make my tongue reach. Next thing I know, she threw one at Mackenzie, but she didn't seem so interested in it. I got to lick hers, too.

Please excuse me as I go run more round with Rosie Rat before I retire for the evening.

Asth---ma

Man, it bites, I tell you. Mama doesn't know how to help me or what to do. I can't really tell her, either, because it just happens. I'm just walking around, doing my cat thing, when I suddenly can't catch my breath. I start wheezing, and I just don't know what to do. I'm happy that it doesn't happen often. Mama says that she did talk to my doctor about it, but that they didn't have enough information to do anything tests.

But it happened again this evening, not long after supper. I got stuck in the middle of the small space between the kitchen and the living room when it hit me. Mackenzie ran right over and touched my nose. Mama gets a worried look on her face. She came over to pet my head. She said some things to me, but I couldn't really understand her because I was busy trying to breathe. Thankfully, it didn't last as long as it normally does. Mama asked me if I had been in my litter box. I really couldn't remember; breathing takes so much of my attention that I can only give her a blank look. Mama explained that the doctor thought that maybe I was kicking up too much dust from the litter box and I get the dust in my lungs. Mama wants to know if she should do something about the litter. 'Yeah', I say, 'it's getting dirty; don't you normally change it on Sundays? Where have you been all day?'

Lazy Mama

I tried so hard to get Mama to play with me today. I meowed for her; she answered. I brought her my Rosie Rat toy - currently my favorite toy - and I dropped it at the foot of her bed. She was watching TV at the time. She looked at me and asked me what I wanted. D'oh - wasn't she not paying attention well enough? I cocked my head to look at her, much like I look in that picture of me she put on this page. I tried to look the cutest she'd ever seen so she'd spend time with me. Instead, she grabbed that thingy she holds in her hand and points it at me and it turns red, and the dot can go all over the place. Mackenzie went after it immediately, but I was too smart to chase it. Did Mama really think that dot - I know where it comes from; I could see it in her hand - was going to make me happy? I wanted her to pick up Rosie Rat and throw her so I could catch it and bring it back to her! I howled in protest; Mama said it was too hot to play like that.

Whatever. I gave up; I went back to the kitchen and laid down on the Daisy bed she gave us. I don't know what she calls it the Daisy bed; I don't see flowers on it. Mama tells me it belonged to a Daisy before we got it. I don't care; its nice and soft. I lay there, watching for the kitchen doorway, in case Mama comes in and might give me something yummy to eat. She hadn't filled our bowl with fresh water, yet. Maybe she'll give us some cold milk to drink. Now if you'll excuse me, its time for another cat nap.

Oh No Not Again....

Mama is irritating me again this morning. She always does this: ignores us when we want to have breakfast. How rude is that? Just because we woke her up at 3:30 am to eat, she says its too early for breakfast. Says who? It's not like she's sleeping. Oh no, she picked up the guinea pig, then went on the computer. I'm meowing for her to come feed me. She's not listening.

I need to eat: I've got big plans for the day. Mama has this bad habit of coming home with furry things that hop around and chase us down. They are not usually nice furry things. Mama says that they are called bunnies, and that the bunnies need help getting used to people so they can find forever homes. I couldn't agree more when they chase me and stomp their feet. Who's house is this, anyway?

Mama came hom with another white box yesterday. Grrrr. Even though I don't like being chased by bunnies, it is a highly entertaining event to watch her put up the cage like box she puts the bunnies in. This one is white with dirt on its nose. Why didn't Mama clean it? I don't get it. This bunny isn't like the other bunnies, either. It didn't come out of the cage once I saw Mama put her in. The door was open, too. I had to investigate.

I saw the bunny alright. She's got pink eyes and a pink hiding place. She just looked at me. Didn't charge me, didn't come out to see me. I got closer. I sniffed. I stretched my neck out. Bunny has a box full of something that smells good in her cage, right at the front door, so I realized it required further investigation. I put my paw out to touch it. Oh, it feels like that hard grass stuff! I was leaning in for another look when I heard: "SAAAAAAAAAAAAB!" She wasn't calling me because she was happy to see me. Oh no. This was her "what do you think you are doing" voice.

It's okay. I've got all day to check out the new visitor. After breakfast.

FISH-ing for Bites

Oh boy oh boy oh boy - Mama cooked fish for supper! It is one of the most heavenly smells known to kittenhood - and the most tortorous. How evil can Mama be - baking that awesome delicacy and yet I don't get a crumb?

But just in case I might be wrong and my dreams will be answered, I staked out a spot right in front of the oven as soon as Mama put pans in it and left the kitchen. I could smell it as soon as it came out of the wrapping - Mackenzie was the first to notice it. She went scrambling to the kitchen, so I followed. But alas, Mama was too smart for us. When she took the fish out of the oven, she put it on the stove, then put some in her plate. The rest of it she put in other boxes and put in the fridge. Mackenzie was eyeing the counter, wondering how soon she'd be able to get up and investigate the pans, but Mama must have seen her eyeballing the counter; Mama put the pans in water and washed it all away. We couldn't even find the smelly fish paper in the trash can. We don't know what she did with it.

Poohie for us! Totally ruin my entire evening. My cat food is all gone for the evening, so I can't eat that either. Man, what's a cat supposed to do?

The Cat Carrier

It's been in the kitchen for as long as I can remember. Mama keeps our going-to-the-vet carrier open, in the kitchen. She made a pillow for it; its got lots of cats on it. It's my favorite hiding and sleeping place. I can be totally hidden yet be in plain sight. I can watch Mama in the kitchen, then come out when it looks like she might have something interesting for me to eat. Or, as almost always happens, Mackenzie tries to get some attention out of her. Then I must come out and compete.

But my favorite activity that I do inside the carrier is when Mama comes over to see me. She doesn't look inside the carrier, but somehow she knows that I am there. She'll call out and say "how's my baby boy?" and I know that she's looking for me. I start to purr immediately. She then says that she loves to hear me purr. My mama thinks I'm so special!

Today has been a very warm day. I went into the carrier and laid down on my side. I turned my chin upward just in case Mama should come by. Sure enough, once she was done her shower, she came to the kitchen and said "is my baby boy in there?" What was I supposed to do? I know that means attention! I made my greeting grunt, then started purring. Mama came close enough to put her hand inside the carrier to rub my chin. I would have been so happy about that, except that she tried to touch my head. I really hate that, and I batted her hands out of the way. Doesn't she know better by now?

Fur is Flying!!!!!

If there's one thing that really makes my fur stand on end, it would be when Mama gets it in her head that she's got to groom me. I can take care of myself quite fine, thank YOU!

Yesterday she pinned me down between her arms and raked my back and hips. I swear that's what this wire/tin thing with teeth is. She says its the best thing to remove loose fur. Well, I say, she should have left it at the animal shelter! She just went back and forth and back and forth with that dang thing. I tried to slap her with my tail; instead, she brushed it! So I tried to bite her; she slapped my nose. She KNOWS I simply loathe this chore - why does she have to persist?

I felt sooooo much better when she finally released her grip, but as I tried to dash off, she grabbed me again and tried to butter me up by petting me. It wasn't until I turned around that I saw the HUGE PILE of fur on the floor. It was almost as tall as I was. She must have cleaned it up, because after I went to my hiding place to lick my tail, I saw it was gone.

I forgot all about the trauma until this afternoon, when she came over to pick me up. I don't like to be held that much - I'd much rather have all fours on the floor. She took me to the living room and as she set me down, I saw the glint of the metal brush on the floor. OH NO she was going to do it again! I tried to run, but I wasn't fast enough. I was forced to endure the torture of her brushing me again - even my tail. I wiggled; I tried to back up; I tried to bite; I tried to slap her with my tail. She wasn't going to stop no matter what I did.

Ooooooooooooh woe is me!

Bye Bye to Taffy

Mama took Taffy away again today. I heard Mama tell her that she was going to see the doctor. Mama's been worried about Taffy for a while now. (Oh, sorry - Taffy is the tan guinea pig that lives here with us Mama took a picture of her with me and let me put it here with my diary.)

Problem is, Mama took Taffy to the doctor's when I thought I should be having my supper. So I got in the window to wait for them to come back. I saw Mama park the car - much later than my supper time, which made me slightly annoyed. But today Mama didn't wave back to me or say hello through the window, like she usually does. She looked very, very sad. But I greeted her at the door like always, and rubbed on her legs.

She put Taffy's box on the floor. Immediately I could smell something was wrong. I came in closer to sniff. Mama reached in the box and took Taffy out. But Taffy wasn't awake. Her nose wasn't twitching. She wasn't looking around and trying to sniff me out. She wasn't trying to get out of Mama's hands. This worried me; I got closer to sniff. I could smell that very BAD smell - that smell that only comes from the doctor's office. It's a very bad smell. It tells me that bad things are happening.

I looked up at Mama. She looked so sad and she looked like she put too much water in her eyes. I wanted her to know that it was okay. I rubbed my head on her arm. She told me I was a good boy and a good Sab. I rubbed against her arm again.

Mackenzie, that annoying pea-brain, was still twirling about as she does, begging for food. Mackenzie barely took the time to look at Taffy. Mama put Taffy in the box so she could feed us. But I didn't feel like eating. Not with Mama being so sad and Taffy's nose not moving.

Mama told me it was okay to eat; she was going to take Taffy to the field to take a long nap. That sounds silly to me; doesn't Mama know that Taffy isn't going to wake up? Even I can figure that out, and I'm a cat!

Mama came home after it got dark. She was still very sad. She didn't have Taffy's box with her this time. I pounced on her feet and rubbed against her legs. She picked me up. I decided she needed more loving, so I purred as loud as I could. I bumped her head with mine so she'd know that I was sorry and I wanted her to feel better. She gave me kisses and told me she loved me.

So I gotta go. Mama's getting ready for bed, and I've got to stay close to her. Mama says I don't need to stay THAT close to her, because she's going to step on me if she does. I don't care, though. Mama's sad; Taffy's gone away. I feel sad too. Her cage is still here, but Mama covered it with a sheet. I checked out the sheet on the cage, but it seemed like its supposed to be there, so I've left it alone. I won't sleep on the sheet. I think Mama needs me more.

Yeowch!

There's this high-pitched, painful noise that goes over and over and over and over and over again. I just can't stand it. When I hear that noise coming from the computer, I start meowing and I don't stop. I want Mama's attention! I want her to TURN OFF or STOP THAT NOISE! I don't know what makes that noise, or why it makes that noise. Mama told me it was music. Said it was called a bagpipe. I don't believe her. Nothing that sounds that horrible could be called music. I go to her and I meow and meow and MEOW. I nod my head at her just in case she doesn't understand me. If that doesn't work, I will go swat her with my paws. Sometimes, when she's at her desk and I hear this horrible noise, I will bat at her elbows. Mama calls me "silly baby boy" and keeps on doing what she's doing - and the noise doesn't stop.

See, if the noise was really music, than Mama would stop that noise and wouldn't play it again because she knows it bothers me. But I know that Mama would never do anything to upset me or make me mad or do things to hurt my ears, so I don't believe her that this is music. I think her computer is sick and it needs to be fixed. I even got on her desk and checked it out myself. I looked inside the slits on the side, but I couldn't see much of anything. All I saw was darkness. When I checked it out, it wasn't making that horrible noise, so I think I fixed it. Mama saw me on her desk, sitting on the keyboard, and she yelled at me to get down.

At least the horrible noise stopped! I don't want it to ever come back.