Almost . . .

I had been suspiciously good lately about not charging the front door every time it opens. Latley I've just been casually approaching it and greeting everyone who comes to it. Mom even had a sales lady over the other night, and she had the door open for 20 minutes while they were chatting, and I stood back the whole time, showing off my belly to the sales lady, not even going near the door. hehehe--strategy. Mom won't let me be an outdoor kitty. Something about how she doesn't trust people to not hit me with their cars, or dogs to not attack me, and something about how I was so 'bad' with my claws that she had to have them removed to spare the Cookman, the furniture, and her hands. Whatev. So last night she was in and out for a minute, shaking out the mat she keeps under my litterbox. I thought it was the perfect opprtunity to make a break for it. Little did I realize how hard that would be in a second-floor walk-up. She thought she had shut the door, but I poked my paw out and got it open . . . and I was off . . . until I got halfway down the stairs and she caught up with me. She grabbed me really tight and carried me back in. I was not anticipating those stairs. I was totally up for a barefoot nightime chase (good thing mom just got a tetanus shot, in case I ever do it again when she's barefoot), but she thought that was a stupid idea. I guess I scared her because when she picked me up, her heart was practically beating out of her chest. She said I was a bad, bad bunny. I didn't get any treats for 3 whole hours after that, and I had to be extra cute to get them. Just because the last time I got out she found me 4 days later stuck in a tree doesn't mean that I don't know what I'm doing. I just like to keep her on her (bare) toes. I'm not a bad bunny, nor am I a chubby bunny. I'm a FLUFFY orange KITTY-CAT, I don't care what she says. Back to hiding my fake mice so they unexpectedly clog up the vacuum cleaner. I like it when mom cleans. I like to keep it interesting, anyway.

Go Big Red!

So I moved to Bloomington. Mom kept threatening me with the idea, then last Thursday she finally packed me up in the car and we went. An hour and a half later we were there. She started moving a week earlier, but she was afraid I might try to get out while she has schlepping her stuff in and out. I've actually been really good since I got here. We're not on the ground floor, so I look out the door and just see forever. I was not happy my first 2 days here, but she built us a bed the first night and I was able to get comfy. She has this big, scary fan blowing, which I didn't go near the first few days, so I stayed in the bedroom and the kitchen. I also didn't use my litterbox the first 2 days here because she got this crazy idea that she could put it somewhere inconspicuous, like under the sink. Hahahahaha. I do not need or want privacy. I want my litterbox where everyone can see it and anything can fall in it. I always get what I want, too. Good thing Oreo's not here, or everything would have already 'fallen' in it. I'm able to get on top of the kitchen cabinets, my new favorite nap spot. I feel like a badass, like a real cat, when I'm up there. I keep telling mom that I'm a CAT, and I'm FLUFFY, but she insists that I'm still a chubby bunny. Whatever.

I've been tagged!

Actually I have been tagged by Isaac, Sam, D.C., and Gimli. My typist has been busy these last couple of weeks.

I am supposed to tag 7 cats, and they are *drumroll*:

1) Wilma: 462585
2) Moose ADOPTABLE: 472899
3) Bobby: 502103
4) Keni: 524743
5) SWEETPEA MANX: 321001
6) Robert Tail: 331992
7) Cybil: 77793


The rules:

Each player starts with seven random facts about themselves. Cats who are tagged need to write on their own diary about the seven things and the rules. You need to choose seven cats to tag and list their names. Don’t forget to leave them a comment that they have been tagged and to read your diary.

My Seven Facts
By radley

1) I came out of the clear blue sky. Nobody knows how I got here or ended up next-door, but I did, somewhere between 8 months and 2 years old. I was a stray, but nobody had ever seen any manx or orangie strays, and we have a feral colony, so we know all the strays around here. I was nobody's cat, though, because I had 2 kinds of worms and was too old to not be fixed had I been someone's kitty.

2) I am 'special.' I was like a reverse feral when I was adopted. I hated cats and loved people. I would growl and hiss at Cookie and Oreo the first 6 weeks I was here.

3) I am possibly inbred. I am an orangie girl, which means that both my parents were orange. I certainly look like a purebred manx, so chances are that both my parents are manxes too. What are the odds that 2 orange manxes aren't related? I don't want to know.

4) I like to bite the tails off my fake mice so they look like me. That way, we know which are Oreo's and which are mine.

5) The ferals laugh at me. Midnight is my buddy, but the rest think I'm just funny. Every now and again I get my way and join them in the yard, where they point at me and giggle. They knew I wasn't really one of them from the getgo, and they think my bootie is hilarious.

6) Even though I'm the newest member of my household, I take over any spot I want, no matter how inappropriate. Like Cookie's box, for example. I steal it from him all the time. I also took over Kiki's bed for Cookie. I take over grandma's bed too, which is sort of Oreo's space, but I always stay at the foot of the bed at least. She won't walk on the green blanket for some reason, so I know that's the safe zone.

7) I am afraid of Oreo. Not really, but I know that if she really wanted to lay the smackdown on me, she could with that windmill thing she does. Don't anyone ever tell her I said that. She knows how intimidating she can be, but I know how tough I can think I am.

It's official . . .

I'm truly a chubby bunny now. I was disturbed from my morning mouse playtime to be shut up in a box and put in a noisy car on a foggy, cold morning. Then, on the way there, mom opened Cookie's box and not mine. As if I might 'misbehave' or something. When we got there, she did the same thing. She opened both boxes, and let me out to be a lapcat, but I had new terrain to explore, so I was not about to be a lapcat. So she shut me back up in the box until the vet was ready, and Cookie just stayed in his open box. He has no imagination whatsoever sometimes, I swear. And he cried all these pathetic mews the whole way there. I was surprisingly quiet. I like Dr. Fletcher a lot. She went very slowly, so as not to scare me, and I could tell by the way that Cookie trusted her that she was A-OK. Until she told me I was fat. Actually, I'm at the maximum healthy weight for my size, so if I gain any more weight, I will be fat, and will have to go on diet food. Ugh. According to ^Softy^, that stuff is not even for the birds. I've been really good about not eating Cookie's food lately, though. So that's good. Its just unfair that he gets so much of that yummy canned stuff. "In time," mom keeps telling me. Whatever.

Leo finally changed his primary photo,and he looks so beautiful. I love it. Back to de-tailing my fake mice. They're new, so I have to customize them.

what a week!

It's been an incredible week for all of us here in Naptown! First, the anniversary of my adoption, January 15, then my 2nd birthday, the 17th, then my mom's birthday today. The Blackie's also got the Daily Diary pick today, which is awesome. They're the first ones in the family to get it. Simba really thought he would get it, but no luck. So much for that INOBIAP conspiracy theory that the cats who pick the diaries are orange. Simba has his own conspiracy theory that the cats who pick the diaries are all alive.

Oh, and I'm Calvin's Pal of the Week, and he wrote about me in his diary. He even showed me how to put badges on my page. He's so cool. He was Cookie's friend first, and Cookie told me how cool he was. Cookie thinks Calvin is actually too cool for me. Whatever. Also, Patches and I are totally infatuated! We found a family in Pennsylvania with a feral who is perfect for her, named Cow!Cat, and I'm in love with his brother Leo .

Plus the Colts are going to the Super Bowl. I had mixed feelings about it, but I'm really happy for Peyton, for Coach Dungy, and for Indianapolis. They kind of owe it to the city, too, since we're building them a new stadium. I just wish we could be playing the Saints instead of the Bears, but like I told my buddy Jason Hopper, Hell would have to freeze over if the Colts ever played the Saints in the Super Bowl.