Thank You for a Wonderpurr Day!

My birthday was on March 25--just this past Thursday--and I had such a great time, I wanted to write about it in my diary. I nudged Mom's hands off the keyboard and finally got my paws on it for a change. Sheesh...I have a voice, too, ya know, MOM!

First, I want to begin by acknowledging all my great friends who sent rosies and gifts.

Not only did Rascal and the Carolina Crew send me a big, juicy shrimpie, but they baked a special Chocky Mousie Invasion Cake for effurbody to enjoy at the Olde Furts Breakfast Club. It was moist and delicious and it was fun tossing the mousies up the air before catching them in our mouths. MOL!

Thank you Big Harry, Royce, Patches, Abigail and Zack who also sent a shrimpie, so I got to have one before the cake and another one after. *Smacks lips.*

Scooter and her beautiful family sent me a pretty bunny--it was CHOCOLATE and I gobbled it right up...er....after the second shrimpie. *Blushes*

After the bunny, I *gulps* downed two hard-boiled colored Easter eggs--many thanks to Annie, Alex, and Bugsy and to Nala Sue. I love eggies!!

I would have waited to eat the eggs, but I hadn't yet seen the two giant cuppycakes that were at the other end of the table: a vanilla one from my niece Hallie Baloo and a chocolate one from the love of my life, dearest Gracie. I didn't want to offend these two charming young ladies, so the cuppycakes went the way of the shrimp, bunny, eggs, and mousie cake. *Grins sheepishly*

All the while, I had on my head THREE birthday hats...one from Edgar, Emily Felicity and their family, one from the Birthday and Gotcha Club, and still another one from my good buddy Riley and his family: Flowie, Whispie, Apollo, Peekers, Mia, and their wonderpurr Momma. On top of the hats, I balanced a golden crown, from my best buddy...Wilson J. Scooter.

Finally, I washed it all down with a bubbly glass of champagne, compliments of my best ANGEL buddy Misha and his family. *Burps*

I did, however, save the other glass of champagne (it was a two-fer)...I raise it now in a toast to my dearest friends both here and at the Bridge. I raise it to all the good Olde Furts who made my Breakfast Club party a blast...each one of you made my birthday special and truly memorable. I salute you!

Farewell, Sweet Molly

Today is one week since my beautiful guinea pig sisfur, Molly, made her journey to the Rainbow Bridge. Until now, I just couldn't bring myself to say a final farewell to my dear sisfur. We were the best of furiends, not just sibs. Every Saturday, when Mom would do a thorough cleaning of her cage, Molly would play on the floor with me. First, she would zoom into her igloo-house and hide. Then, her little face would poke out of the doorway and we would touch noses. I always sat right by her and we would watch every move Mom made. Lots of times, Molly would decide to go for a walk around the living room. She carried her house with her and Mom and I would laugh and laugh because she looked like a big purple turtle! MOL!

Molly's most favorite thing of all was to cuddle on Mom's chest. She would hop around until she found the perfect spot and then would lie there for a long, long time just gazing up at Mom's face. Sometimes, I would get a little jealous and jump up on the chair with them to sit in Mom's lap. While we had her pinned down, she'd always say she was the Mayor of Cuddletown. Mol really liked it when she was wrapped up in her cavy cozy--a fleece-lined sack made just for her by Grandma.
The funniest times were when she would try to burrow into the sleeve of mom's shirt. Her whole body would wriggle down there. The girl loved tunnels!

Molly was a big wheeker, too. Every single day at 2:00 she would start wheeking and whistling for her dinner. But Mom doesn't get home till about 5:00, so as soon as Mol heard the key in the lock, she's start up all over again. Mom would call out, "I'm home!" and Molly would answer her. "Wheek, wheek, wheek!" Then Mom would wheek back and they'd have a whole conversation together! She always got fed first because she was so little and much younger than me.

I know in my heart that little Sophie met her at the Bridge to welcome her and show her around. She loved Molly dearly and was very dependent on her, so I'm thinking she must have needed her there. Now they're together again.

I miss you, Molly...we will see each other again one day...until then, farewell my sweet sisfur. Please watch over all of us who loved you so much.

Have you seen Tigger and Cali?

Our fellow Castronauts Tigger and Cali have gone missing from Catsterland! Their last post was January 5, 2010.

Tigger and Cali are an integral part of CASA. If we don't locate them by this Saturday, we will launch a universe-wide search for our fellow officers and friends.

Please, if you have any information on Tig and Cali, let somefur from CASA know!

Tigger's number is 990900. Cali is number 990904.

*Crisp salute.*

Comings and Goings

OMC! I haven't written in my diary for a furry long time. But I've had so much going on that I've just got to get this down on paper (so to meow).

The hollydays always mean a big trip to Grandma's, and I was getting all ready and packed to go when Mom said there would be a change of plans. I don't know exactly what happened--all I know is that I didn't get stuffed into my carrier for the 4 1/2 hour car drive with the big, scary trucks all around me. I missed seeing my Grandma and two-fer aunties, though. Anyway, we had a real quiet Chrissymas at home with just a few visitors.

Well, it was mostly quiet. A week before Chrissymas Day, my mom had to run some errands and said she'd be right back. Being a proper Olde Furt, I took a nap. When I woke up, I discovered that my life would neffur be the same.

Mom came in with some bags and a big box with holes in it. She put it in the middle of the living room floor and went back outside to the car. I immediately began to investigate this box. OMC, something was moving in there. I could hear scratch, scratch, scratch and then a big MEOW! I jumped back. I approached again. MEOW! I backed away. Mom came into the room, rubbed my head, and said the something in the box was my new sisfur Willow. My first thought was, "No, my sisfur's name is Molly. I don't have a Willow-sisfur."

Boy, was I wrong. Mom opened up the top of the box and pulled out a CAT! My eyes almost popped out of my head and I know they're not supposed to do that. The next few minutes are all a blur. Mom was carrying this skinny little Willow-thing around and I was glued to the floor, stunned. Then she put her down on the floor and Willow began sniffing and exploring my entire house. When she finally sat still for a moment, I went offur to her to touch her nose. (Actually, I was quite interested in her) but she didn't like that, so I backed away.

Long story short, Willow has come to stay. She is 6 years old but is a tiny, tiny girl. I think she's beginning to like me! She's begun using my litter box and I'm using hers. We eat out of each other's dishes, too. I even let her take offur my prized window seat. The only thing I refuse to share is my nip banana. I have forbidden her to go near it. One really nice thing is that even though she's not an Olde Furt yet, she sure does sleep like one.

When you get to be my age, you realize what a funny old world we live in. Just at the same time that Willow came into my life, my dear, dear furiend Misha left it. He was called to the Bridge; it was his time to become an angel. A Chrissymas Angel. Misha and I always cooked breakfast together at Pie's Breakfast Club on the weekends. We fished, went camping, flew hot air balloons, loved roller skating and lounging by the OF pool all summer. I will miss him for the rest of my life but I know I will see him again when I make my journey to the Bridge someday. I love you, buddy!

I hope all of my Catster furiends had a merry Christmas and I wish all of you the furry best New Year!

...and may all the Willows in the world find their fur-effur homes soon!

What Do I Look Like, Anyway?

Every couple of weeks, Mom goes to Petsmart to buy stuff for Molly and me. She always brings home hay and bedding and vitamins for Molly, and litter, canned food, and treats for me. Most weeks, she also buys something a little extra just to let me know how much she loves me. I might get a new toy or hiney wipes (yuck!) or fresh nip. Well, this past weekend, she came home with a bigger-than-usual box. She was all excited and telling me she got me something special. We sat on the living room floor and I sniffed and sniffed at that box. Interesting. When she opened it, I caught her excitement. PLASTIC! Now, if you know me, you know I have this addiction to plastic of any type and will do my best to chew it up. This was the best prezzie she effur gave me. Lots and lots of plastic! Whoo-hoo...I was rolling in it!

Right up until she scooped it all up and hid it from me.

Mean Mom! I was hunting all offur for it, but she was chattering on about how great this "thing" was. I set my devastation aside and laid down next to her...to humor her, ya know? She begins to unwrap piece after piece, all the while saying, "Look, Simon, looky!" Well, I was looking all right, but had no idea what I was seeing. Finally, this whole contraption is assembled and she yells, "TA-DAH!!!...Doggie Steps!!!! Just for YOU, Sweetie!"

I almost passed out. DOGGIE STEPS?!?!?! Since when do I slobber and bark???

I looked down at my front and it sure looked like cat to me. I twisted around and checked my tail. Yup...cat tail. I let out a really loud "MEOW" -- whew...no "woof"! So, what the heck is she thinking?

She honestly believed she could TRAIN me to use this silly thing.

Next thing I know, she's cooing, "Come on, honey...come on...try this" and she's patting the bottom step and grinning like a madwoman. She picks me up and puts my front paws on the bottom step while gently pushing on my tushy to get me to climb. Naturally, I was resisting with every muscle in my body. Then she plops me on the top step and in my hurry to get off these despicable steps, I run right down them. Well, she danced and cheered all offur the living room. I ran into the bedroom.

The steps are still there by the sofa. Every now and then, I fake her out and sniff them really good, like I'm gonna climb them. Then I flick my tail in contempt and stalk away...

Hmmmfff...DOGGIE steps!

Who ME???

Mommy called from work to tell me I was awarded with a Daily Diary Pick today! ME??? I jumped up, did a half-twist in midair, landed on all fours and strutted my stuff all offur the house. *Molly rolls eyes.*

Thank you, Diary Gal!

Thank you to the kits who sent me rosies and posted concatulations.

Even though I'm on a diet, Mom gave me some extra treats when she got home. (I hope that docky-doc lady doesn't hear about that.) I got hugs, kisses, and cuddles, too!

This has been a furtastic Friday for me and now I get Mommy home for two whole days. Whoo-hoo!

What Goes Around....

It was a serene and beautiful morning. Birds were chirping and the baby woodchucks were playing and eating in the yard. Mom was home because it's Saturday. The TV was on, but the volume was turned down, while the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted throughout the apartment. Mommy gently called to me, "Come on out, Simon! Where are you sweetie?" Softly I padded out from behind my favorite chair and BAM...she got me!

Suddenly, I'm pressed into that dratted carrier and zipped up tight. Next thing I hear is, "Okay, Molly, your turn." That poor piggie didn't stand a chance. "Let's go see your docky-doc!" I nearly gagged. Docky-Doc my paw. Don't sugar coat this indignity! And what's more I'm not even sick!

In the car Molly was so shocked, she didn't make a single wheek. I, on the other hand, complained all the way to the animal hospital.

When we got there, a lady in a white coat (the Docky-Doc) came in the room and called me Buddy. Not my name. Strike one. She squeezed me all over till I thought my guts would ooze out. Strike two. While taking my temperature in a totally unacceptable manner, she called me obese. Strike three. Game over.

...or so I thought. After two pinchy needles (she also said I have tough skin), that same lady picked me up and carried me into a back room where another lady stole, that's right, stole my blood! When I got back to my mom, I glared at her good and hard. I think I showed her who was really in charge. Then I dove into my carrier.

I heard them saying that even though my diabetes is under control, my blood sugar has things called peaks and valleys, so I need a different, long-lasting insulin to keep it more stable. That means Mommy will have to keep punching holes in my ears...I also have to lose the 3 pounds I gained in the past year. *Begins to weep.*

Then it was Molly's turn. She wasn't so much pinched and squeezed as she was manipulated. Her left foot is furry swollen and red, so in addition to her antibiotics and probiotics, she has to have her left foot soaked about twice a day in these Epsom-salt things and has to take an extra medicine for pain. That docky-doc kept moving Molly's foot up and down and back and forth and was saying it didn't feel like a bone problem. Good ol' Mol just stared blankly and kept pooping all over the table! I love my sisfur!!!!

At the end of the visit when the NICE lady at the front desk handed Mom the bill, they had to pick her up off the floor. I guess Mommy got pinched and squeezed and manipulated, too! MOL!

Company's Coming

I heard Mommy talking on the phone last night to her good friend Penny. OMC, she's coming to our house today with Mr. Larry to put the air catditioner in the living room window. Now, I love my auntie Penny and Mr. Larry is furry nice for a human, but they have this DOG that goes effurywhere with them. Emmy. She's a two-year old beagle. If you know dogs, you know what THAT means. My toys, my food, my butt...none of it escapes Emmy's nose. She even jumps up on my sofa. *Bristles with indignation.* And she absolutely torments poor Molly. Emmy thinks she's a hunting dog and wants to eat my sisfur for a snack!

I know we need the air catditioner for when it gets hot outside. It seems that Mr. Larry is taking a trip for a few weeks and won't be around to put it in later on, so they have to come today. But for cat's sake, does that puppy have to help him? Hmmm????

I just know she'll slobber all over Mommy, too! And then I'll be sniffing DOG-SMELL for the rest of the day. If anyfur out there knows of a good doggie-repellent product, please write soon!

I have competition!

Mommy has been oooohhhing and aaaahhhhing over some new pictures her sister has been sending of this new little boy in the family named AJ (Anthony Joseph). He was just born on Tuesday, May 19. He's Mommy's great-nephew. She keeps showing me the pics and I politely meow at them, but let's face it, this kid is competition. I thought I was the family pet! I thought I was the cute one (well, besided Molly). Just look at him!

The New Kid

How can anyfur beat that???

I can see it now...by the time he's walking, he'll be trying to sit in my litter box and stealing the food right out of my dish. Cute, right?

I've gotta think of something to get an edge...maybe a new wardrobe?

Holes in my ears!

Mommy has been punching holes in my ears for 2 days now and I have to say that it is defurnitely not the best thing that has effur happened to me.

She says we need to test my glu-cose levels, whatever that means. She tried this offur the winter, but my ears were too cold. My friend Merlin told her to try warming them up by filling the toe of an old sock with some rice and then sticking it in the microwave thing for a few seconds. She tried this and held the socky to my ear, but I still wouldn't give up a drop of my blood. (I mean, it's bad enough when the v-e-t steals blood, but your own mother trying it is just outrageous.)

Now the weather is warmer and this spells trouble because so are my ears. Mommy sticks this little thing on the edge of one of my ears, and POP! it makes a hole and a drop of blood leaks out. Then she sticks another thing in there and a few seconds later, that thing beeps at her. She gets furry excited about something and calls out a number. I don't know what she's so happy about -- I'm leaking, for cat's sake!!

I have to be an honest cat and admit it that doesn't really hurt. I must also say that I am a furry good boy and don't even flinch.

But I don't like it. What's next....earrings to fill up the holes???????