Age: 14 Years Sex: Male Weight: 9 lbs.
|Home:Jacksonville, FL ||[I have a diary!] |
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Leave a treat for Kirby Phillippe
Catster stats for Kirby Phillippe
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Fuzzer McStripe, Kirbert Kitane, KP, K-Pax, Monkey Boy, Monsieur Rayée, Striper K, Stripes, Stripey Demon, Kirbatration, Kirbster, Kirbatron, Kirbiferous Kitten, Evil Kittenhead, Cat Badness, GCB (Gratuitous Cat Badness)
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Sleeping, chasing real or imaginary bugs, knocking things off the counter just to watch them fall, spilling Mommy's bedside glass of water, teasing the dog, unrolling the toilet paper, wrestling with Trivet, trying to get into the pantry
Car trips, Clayton, "vet smell" on one of his brothers
Feline Flyer makes him lose his mind!
Favorite Nap Spot:
Play tunnel or papasan chair
An uncanny ability to find opportunities for mischief. Also a crack mouser.
Kirby was abandoned by the curb, hence his name. He was rescued by a friend of his mom, who picked him up in her FedEx truck. Kirby was tiny, had worms and ear mites, and had burned his eye on the truck's exhaust pipe while trying to hide. His rescuer knew that Trivet's mom was looking for a little brother for Trivet, and Kirby fit the bill. He was known as Itty Bitty Kitty until he was officially named.
Kirby has had many adventures, including: falling into the toilet; setting his fur on fire; falling out the window and being lost in the bushes overnight; getting trapped in the crawlspace twice; getting very sick by eating doggie heartworm medicine; catching three mice, killing two, and eating one-half; having his armpit shaved for an echocardiogram; eating and throwing up needles from an artificial tree; knocking over and totaling a 7' artificial spruce the morning of his mom's holiday party; and getting into the cupboard and eating all the dog's treats. He is a monkey!
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I've Been On Catster Since:
|November 4th 2004
||More than 10 years!
I Was In The:
2005 Valentine's Day Party!
Rosette, Star and Special Gift History
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January 10th 2005 5:15 pm
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This weekend my mom got out a cool toy that I had never seen before. It had a long, thin, flexible stick with a string on the end. At the end of the string was a feathery bird! When Mom waved it around, the bird flew through the kitchen. So I decided to hunt it. Trivet wasn't even interested; I couldn't believe it!
It took time and effort to catch the bird. It could fly high, and it was fast. I had to do a bunch of fancy jumps and twists in the air. Then it flew too close to the floor, and I pounced! Ha! I knocked it down with my two front paws, then I grabbed it in my mouth. Mom laughed at me when I marched down the hall with my tail up high and those feathers poking out of my mouth. What does she know? I caught a bird! Right there in the kitchen!
Mom tried to take the bird away, saying I'd wreck it. I made a growling sound like a big lion, and Mom seemed a little surprised. She wasn't as scared as she should have been. Somehow, she got the bird away from me. I was steamed. Then, I couldn't believe it, the bird started flying again! I was sure it was close to dead.
I started chasing the bird some more in the kitchen. Meanwhile, my stupid brother Trivet thought it would be funny to tackle me while I was watching the bird. I didn't even see him coming, the big jerk! I think our little wrestling match scared the bird, because I noticed it stopped flying around until we were done. Trivet did this a bunch of times while I was hunting. Sometimes he is just a big litterbox face, if you know what I mean.
Mom put the bird in the closet after a while, but she got it out again yesterday. It was still flying around in our kitchen. I could not believe it. Birds are dumb, I guess. So I hunted, in between wrestling with Trivet, who was still being a pain in the tail. Finally, I caught the bird! I used the same method that had worked for me before: pouncing on it with my front paws, then grabbing it in my teeth.
Well, no way was I letting Mom take away my prey again. I gave her another lion growl, then I headed for the bedroom, tail held high. She kept following me, which I found annoying, and she was still holding that flexible pole with the string. I took my prey under the bed to eat it, but Mom peeked under and tried to take it away. I growled some more and made my tail big and scary. Then Mom started pulling on the string, but I wouldn't let go. Then the string popped loose! Mom complained that I had broken the new toy, but then she went away and let me eat in peace.
After a while, I decided this bird was not good to eat, so I left the remains under the bed. Later I threw up on the carpet in the study. Feathers don't agree with me, I guess. In fact, they're just as icky as that half a mouse I ate a while back (and also threw up onto the carpet in the study). A cat just can't catch anything tasty around here. I ended up ordering room service.
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