June 4th 2009 11:26 pm
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It turns out the tests done by the vet last month have had some results. I have a little arthritis. That's why I've been stiff and sore sometimes. That's why I hesitate to leap sometimes. That's why I'm quiet and keep to myself sometimes.
And, apparently, that's also why my dad has been giving me a little pill twice a day. It tastes yucky, but not like medicine. It tastes yucky like nasty plants. (I think they are Chinese herbs.) At first I was pretty good at being able to spit it right back out, because my dad was kind of clumsy when pilling me. But he's gotten better at putting the pill far back on my tongue so I have no choice but to swallow it.
I hope it helps me feel better. If I absolutely have to get a pill every day, it would be really nice if it helped me not to be quite so stiff and achy.
May 24th 2009 12:23 am
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Last night I was on alert for Nasty Cat, peering out the windows in my dad's office, in the living room, in the bedroom. I even hopped up onto the kitchen counter to scrutinize the backyard fence. All was fine until about 2:30, when I thought I saw something on the ledge outside the office window, moving toward the back of the house. So I ran into the bedroom and leaped up onto my mom's dresser to look out that window, and sure enough, there was Nasty Cat! Resplendent in her nastiness, sitting on the ledge, taunting me through the glass.
I was so furious that I let out my mighty war cry -- a long, low, loud menacing moan! My mom woke up with a start, yelling. Then my dad woke up with a start, yelling. I was screaming. My mom and dad were hugging each other and screaming. Nasty Cat was screaming. I tried to get onto the windowsill but I fell down, screaming. My dad struggled out of bed, opened the window and screamed at Nasty Cat. My mom screamed. I screamed some more. It was a crazy chaotic scream-o-rama thrills-chills-spills scream-tacular scream-fest for a couple of minutes.
Eventually we all stopped screaming and looked out all the windows to make sure Nasty Cat was gone. Then my mom and dad petted me for a while and got me simmered down and back to my usual self. Then they went back to bed. I, however, remained on alert.
This morning I heard them outside the bedroom window, looking at kitty paw prints in the soft dirt. "See these marks? It's where her claws dug into the ground," my mom said. My dad said, "Yeah, that's where she jumped down and then ran off that way after I yelled at her."
I hope she stays gone. She is evil! And nasty.
May 22nd 2009 5:21 pm
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There is yet another Evil Cat in my neighborhood! I saw her last night, in all her evilness, prowling around my house. This one was a Nasty Evil Cat!!
She was a calico, with a tatty collar. But she looked well-groomed, unlike Second Evil Cat, the tortie with the mangy bald spot from last month. I saw her on the back fence, and I knew exactly what she was going to do next: she came along the side of the house and around to the front. (I was ready for her, having positioned myself in the living room on the sill of the big picture window.) She crawled up onto the stoop and sauntered across it. But then she did something no previous Evil Cat has ever done -- she hopped up onto the ledge below the picture window! And stared right inside! At me!
It was a tense stand-off for several moments. We were nose to nose, separated only by the glass in the window. I screamed and screamed at her and made my tail go all bottlebrush-big, but she wouldn't leave. She was *right there* up against the window, staring at me, hissing at me, swatting at me, her claws raking against the glass. How dare she try to reach in to hit me inside my own house? Ooh, if I could have gotten through that window I would have torn her to pieces! There would have been nothing left of her, I can tell you that much, and it would have taken all of 2 seconds for me to do so, too.
She kept sneaking away and coming back, slinking along the window ledge, sitting in the driveway under my mom's car, sashaying onto my stoop. *My* stoop! Oh, the nerve! And then she'd hop onto the window ledge and hiss at me, as if *I* were the intruder. Can you believe that?! I howled and moaned and hollered at her with all my might, but it did no good other than to wake up my dad, who stumbled into the living room to see what the ruckus was all about. My mom tried to soothe me, but I was having none of that. No, not while that rude interloper needed a good thrashing!
I kept a vigil all night long by the picture window, protecting my turf and my home from Nasty Evil Cat. I was achy and exhausted this morning and spent the day uncomfortably camped out in the living room trying to get some rest. My mom thinks that Nasty Evil Cat is probably a very nice little cat once you get to know her (preferably far away from other cats), but I know better than that. I will not let down my guard. I will not be assuaged! I will not be appeased! I will not be placated, not as long as that vile Nasty Evil Cat roams free upon my turf! She is nasty! She is vile! She is evil, evil, EVIL!!
May 9th 2009 12:21 am
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Yesterday my mom left her closet door open slightly, so I went in to investigate. This was a relatively rare opportunity to explore; my mom is usually very good about keeping her closet door closed.
So I went in and poked around in one corner, and I noticed something I'd never noticed before -- there was a way to climb up some boxes and get into the laundry basket.
Lately I have been having some problems climbing stuff, but this was only a couple of boxes and a short hop into the basket. Piece of cake. The basket smelled like my mom and some dish towels. I had some fun digging around among the shirts, socks and dish towels piled up in it. Then I lay down in the little nest I made and enjoyed my new secret place in the shadowy half-closed closet.
When my new secret place got boring I had a little trouble getting out of the basket -- my hind legs caught on the rim as I leaped out and almost knocked the whole basket over. My mom happened to be watching at the time, so I acted like I meant for that to happen. Um . . . because I did. Really. Yep. I intended it to be so, exactly like that. Yessiree bob. Mmm-hmm. Ask any cat, they'll tell you. (Even so, I hope next time my mom isn't looking.)
May 4th 2009 12:09 am
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A couple of days ago my mom and dad woke me up out of a lovely slumber to put me in my carrier and trundle me out to the car and take me on the long ride to the vet. I cried and cried as much as I could, but my mom and dad were unmoved. My mom held my carrier on her lap and talked to me and sang little songs and even pointed out interesting landmarks we were passing as my dad drove. I think she was trying to distract me, but it really didn't work. I did not want to go to the vet!
Finally we got there, where the vet poked and prodded me and made me lie down on my side to wiggle my hind legs with her hands. I did not like this very much at all. Then the vet put me in a picnic basket (or something that looked like a picnic basket) and took me back into the vet hospital to X-ray my hips and draw some blood. I did not like this very much either. I did not like being apart from my mom and dad. I did not like waiting around among the strange people and strange animals and strange noises and scents. I wanted to go back home.
Then, finally, I was reunited with my mom and dad, and we went home. Only I didn't cry all the way home like I did the last time. I was quiet this time. And when I got back home, I did a quick patrol to make sure everything was okay on my turf, then I sat on the couch with my mom for a while instead of hiding like I did the last time. It felt nice to have a cuddle with her. She seemed to understand how hard it is for me. But she also knows that I haven't been feeling quite myself lately, and the only thing she knows to do about that is to take me to the vet.
I wish I never have to go to the vet ever again, even if I'm not feeling quite myself.
April 26th 2009 10:48 pm
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There is a new Evil Cat in my neighborhood. This one is not stupid like Original Evil Cat. No, this one is savvy. This one is smart. This one has been around the block a few times and knows the score.
Which makes her all the more dangerous.
I first noticed her very late last night, slinking around our house. She was on the small side, a pale tortoiseshell, with a collar and tag. Along her spine she was bald with mange. I was beside myself following her sneaky movements. How dare she trespass on my turf? One Evil Cat is bad enough, but now there are two? This absolutely cannot be! No, no, no! I was beside myself with agitation and distress until my dad got up and fed me my morning snack. Then I felt a little better and forgot about her for a while.
But I noticed her again early this evening, when I was lounging on my cat tree. She came along next to the ivy, so I raced up onto my mom's dresser to observe her movements from that window. She turned the corner and slunk behind the shrubs in the front of the house, so I marched into the living room and peered out the big window there. After a moment or two she hopped up onto the stoop -- *my* stoop! -- then went down the steps and snuck between my mom's car in the driveway and the garage door. I bounded across the living room to look out the other window, watching her trot up the neighbor's steps and across their stoop as well. I lost sight of her then; I think she snuck behind their shrubs and went on into the next yard.
I felt the electricity of fear and anger jolt through me, puffing up my tail into a fearsome bottlebrush and sizzling in my brain. I could tell she was a tough customer -- if she ever got in here somehow she could probably tear me to shreds (not to mention give me mange too, most likely). Even though she had slunk out of sight I spent the next several minutes pacing nervously.
My mom tried to reassure me, saying, "She's gone now, Won. It's okay. All gone. Bye-bye." But I wasn't so sure. I did not like the sight of New Evil Cat one bit. I did not like the fact that she'd been around our house twice now, especially her walking right in front of my own door! Even Original Evil Cat didn't do that. Original Evil Cat only sat on the back fence looking stupid. And evil.
I hope New Evil Cat stays away! And gets that mange treated as well. Hmph. The riffraff in this neighborhood . . .
April 15th 2009 8:10 pm
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My dad makes food for me. He grinds up chickens and livers and a special supplement to give me a balanced diet and mixes it all up in a huge bowl. And when he's done portioning it out into a week's worth of meals to put in the freezer, he lets me lick the bowl.
The bowl is so enormous that I could fit inside it and curl up for a nap. My mom or my dad will hold the bowl on its side while I nom away. I can fit my head and shoulders inside and still kind of hear an echo as I chase down every last luscious little scrap of food clinging to its cavernous sides.
The thought of how much yummy food the enormous bowl could hold is absolutely intoxicating. Maybe some day my mom or dad will make a big batch of food and let me eat it all right out of the bowl! Oh, that would be heavenly! Of all the cat tummies in town, I'd have the absolute happiest!
And maybe some day I could curl up for a nap in it too (once it's clean and dry, of course). And I bet I'd dream about enormous quantities of succulent, lip-smacking, mouthwatering food. Yum!
April 10th 2009 7:06 pm
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My mom and dad like to have music playing all night long while they sleep. It is very pretty music, very ethereal. It reminds me of clouds in the sky. It comes from some devices perched on my dad's dresser.
Anyway, the other night, as the music was playing, I jumped up onto my dad's dresser. But I lost my footing when I landed and my head bumped into one of the music devices. The music suddenly changed. It sounded like a piano and a violin. I was a little startled to have such power over the music, but since nothing further happened, I continued on up to my mom's dresser so I could look out the window for a while.
After a couple of minutes both my mom and dad half-woke up wondering about the music and why it was different. They could not figure out why it wasn't the same music they fell asleep to. They both stumbled out of bed and came over to my dad's dresser and began sleepily poking around with the music devices to find what was going wrong.
After a minute or two of bewildered fumbling my mom said, "It's the radio! The radio is on, not the CD." My dad found the switch and put the other music on, the ethereal, cloud music. They spent a few minutes wondering how the switch could have been changed from CD to radio during their sleep. I think I heard my name mentioned a couple of times, but I decided to keep quiet and pretend I didn't notice anything.
March 17th 2009 4:51 pm
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I am now Cookie Pie Cat. I used to be Kitty Pie, but a couple of days ago my mom decided I was Cookie Pie Cat. She has been sick with a sore throat, and as she usually does when she is sick, she talks silly. She was sitting in bed, and when I went into the bedroom to visit her she said, "Come here, you beautiful little Cookie Pie Cat! You are so beautiful! You are so sweet! You are a wonderful little Cookie Pie Cat! C'mon, little Cookie Pie! C'mon up!", patting the bed next to her for me to jump up so she could give me some scritchy-scratches.
I guess I don't mind being Cookie Pie Cat. Although I know what cookies are and I know what pie is, I cannot imagine how you would put them together to make a cookie pie. I have my doubts such a thing is even possible. But my mom seems to think it's a very good concept, so I suppose it's okay with me.
March 2nd 2009 11:05 pm
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It pays to be sneaky. Usually my mom is very careful about making sure she closes the door when she goes from the kitchen into the garage. But sometimes she gets careless, and my eternal vigilance pays off.
It was laundry day today, so there was a lot of going back and forth in and out of the garage, where the washer and dryer are located. At one point I heard the kitchen door squeak open as my mom went to check on the clothes in the dryer, and I happened to notice that the door was just barely ajar. Aha, my mom must have been tired not to have closed it completely shut. So I pushed at it with my nose. It creaked as it moved open a hair. I waited a moment to see if my mom noticed, but she just went on emptying the dryer into her laundry basket. So I pushed at the door again. It creaked some more, but opened just enough for me to trot stealthily down the steps while her back was turned and blend silently into the garage's shadows.
I saw her look around at the slightly open door, but she just took her laundry basket into her arms and went up into the kitchen, closing the door behind her.
"Oh boy!" I thought. "I got away with it! Hee-hee!" I had the whole garage to myself, to explore at my leisure!
I nosed around the table down at one end. I could smell wood, and saw sawdust under my paws. I worked my way around one side and along the wall, nosing about but not really finding anything interesting. I backed up against the now-silent washer and dryer and tried to spray them (nothing ever comes out when I try to spray, no matter how hard I try; I wonder why that is?), to make sure Evil Cat didn't get any ideas in its evil stupid head about exactly whose turf this was in case it ever got into the garage somehow.
Just as I was realizing that there wasn't anything really interesting in the garage, I heard my mom calling my name from inside the house. "Won? Do you want your pumpkin?" she called.
Pumpkin! Yeah, I was hungry! But I was stuck inside the garage.
I heard my mom's voice fade away deeper into the house, calling my name. Oh no, she didn't know I was there! My sneakiness was too successful! Was I going to be stuck there for hours? Would anyone hear me if I meowed? No one ever seems to hear me meow when I get into a predicament. How would I get out of this one? I imagined my mom wandering about the house with my scoop of pumpkin in a tiny dish, looking for me in vain. How could I draw her attention?
Before I could figure out a solution to this problem, my mom opened the kitchen door and saw me standing by the washing machine. She suppressed a laugh and sat down on the step and said, "Well, what are you doing in here, little girl? What's going on? Do you want your pumpkin?"
I sauntered up the steps and pretended to investigate a cloth grocery bag hanging from one of the kitchen chairs. My mom just sat there on the step with the door to the garage wide open, turning to watch me and question me about what I had been doing in there. I decided it was best to play dumb and pretend I hadn't really been in the garage in the first place. (After all, I was officially banned from the garage a long time ago due to a misunderstanding over a sack of sand stored in there. I didn't know I wasn't supposed to go wee in it when it was perfectly okay to go wee in the other kind of sand in the litterbox in the bathroom. I thought sand was sand, you know?) So I gave that cloth grocery bag a very thorough investigation with my nose and ignored my mom, hoping she would change the subject soon and offer me my pumpkin.
Which she did, and a snack too, and maybe in a little while she will forget that I succeeded in sneaking into the garage behind her back. That would be great if she forgot, because then it would be easier for me to keep trying to sneak back in there again. Because she would be forgetful and I would be sneaky. And it pays to be sneaky.
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