IT’S MY BLANKET
Since I came into Mommie's life we have settled into a routine. We amuse each other during the day and at night I sleep on Mommie’s shoulder. But during the day, when I am home, I like to sleep
in a corner in the living room that Mommie says is mine. She put a blanket down so it would be soft.
Mommie is confused just because I like my blanket “just so”. I don’t like wrinkles or uncomfortable folds in the blanket. The blanket
is fairly heavy and blanket folds or unnecessary wrinkles make it difficult for me to sleep comfortably.
Mommie doesn’t understand that I need my blanket without wrinkles or folds. Last Friday after she had laundered my blanket she brought it
to my special place. But there were two little folds on two corners and I couldn’t have that. So I turned around and around trying to smooth out the folds.
I have slept in Mommie’s bed and she has a lot of wrinkles and folds in her sheets
and blankets. Apparently she can live with that. The pillow I sleep on next to Mommie is smooth though and that is how I like my blanket.
Yesterday as I prowled along the kitchen countertop I
heard this deafening popping sound.
I looked around and stared at a window in a little black box that showed a plate (holding a bag of something) going around and around in this black box. That is where the noise was coming from and about three minutes
later a little bell went off and the light went out. Mommie saw the bewildered look on my face, so she explained that this box was called a microwave,
Mommie took the bag out of the microwave. She held it in her hands and pulled the top apart as steam
spewed out. She took the bag with her when she went into the bedroom to watch television.
After a while she offered me a piece of pop corn but it was cool already. I didn’t particularly like the taste, but it really was fun to play with. I took
several pieces back to one my hidey holes so I could play with them later after Mommie had cleaned up any mess I made today.
The only thing stale popcorn is good for is to PLAY with it!
I know it is several months before Thanksgiving is here, but Mommie already has her turkey picked out.
Every morning about 8 am two turkey mommies and their chicks – one mommie has four babies and the other has three
– strut down the driveway as the mommies teach their young ones how to hunt for food. Since this is a farming community there is always plenty of food around – for intstance corn and soy beans left over from last year. Around here there are lots
of mulberry trees which shed their fruit all during July. Since it is August, the pickings for stale mulberries is ripe. There are also lots of weeds that produce seeds for food.
Yesterday I started chasing the birds, especially the chicks.
I thought it would be a “feather in my hat”, so to speak, if I were able to catch one. Mommie warned me that if I was so careless as to catch one of the babies, she might not be able to get a good one for Thanksgiving dinner. Then she said I wouldn't
get any leftovers either.
I like holidays that include lots of food, especially turkeys. I listened to Mommie for once and decided I would rather play with the outdoor babies than miss turkey for Thanksgiving dinner when it was time for
Wow! I must be maturing: I listened to Mommie the first time she said something. I didn't even give it a second thought as to why I should go ahead and get that little turkey chick, I quit chasing immediately.
Mommie needs a new washing machine so she accepted a “job” for the neighbor. The elderly couple (older than Mommie anyway) needed some bricks washed because they were building a tool shed and they wanted it to look
like the house. They had some old brick remaining from when they built their house 38 years ago. It was a big pile of dirty bricks. She took me along for the ride because the couple has three outdoor cats.
Mommie sat on a chair and used
a hose to wash them. I was busy bragging to the three cats about how wonderful my life was with Mommie. I have a nice bed and plenty of food. And, of course, I had to tell them that I could do whatever I wanted to because Mommie was old and didn't always catch
me when I got into mischief.
You should have seen those cats snicker when Mommie aimed the hose at me. (Ok, they actually laughed at me.) I HATE COLD WATER. When she was done I was drenched and she was laughing. She almost said she
was sorry, instead she said: “You were too tempting as a target. Somehow I knew you were bragging, too.”
How does Mommie know what I am doing even though she doesn't know cat language? Or does she? Hmmmm.
IT’S A RACE
Whenever it is feeding time – I have an internal clock – I race Mommie to the food dish. One time I ran so fast I almost tripped Mommie. She said “Whoa, there Buster. If you trip me I
will fall and then I can’t prepare your food.”
It scared me when Mommie almost fell. She would have fallen on me and I don’t think I can handle that much of a load. I will try to remember this.
I know Mommie is always
on some kind of diet. The latest is eat one day, fast the next. I haven’t quite figured out what “fast” means. All I know is I don’t want to do it because Mommie is always cranky the days she does it. I am a good time guy.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOMMIE!
It’s Mommie’s birthday. She must be old because she refuses to tell me how old she is. Several of her people friends came to help celebrate. Sissy and Sparky came too.
The ladies played a few silly games before Mommie unwrapped her presents. Then the food appeared. Chocolate cake and vanilla ice cream – yum yum. For some reason there were a lot of lit candles on the cake. What is the deal with that? Someone at the
party had a toy that sounded like a fire engine siren which she turned on. Everybody had a good laugh.
Mommie was really nice because she got down three small bowls from the cupboard and put two spoons full of ice cream and a tiny piece of chocolate
cake for Sissy and me. Sparky got three spoons full of ice cream and a bigger piece of cake.
Fortunately for Mommie and me there was a little cake left and half of the ice cream. Before we went to bed last night Mommie had another bowl of ice cream
and a BIG piece of cake. She did share.
Happy Birthday Mommie!!
WHY DO I DO THIS? (Memories - when I was little)
There seem to be a number of entries with me trying to get outside. I want to know why I
Mommie says there are cat psychologists out there that could probably tell me, but they charge at least $100 an hour. She gave me the reason for free: It’s because I said NO. All kids think they want what they can’t have.
Besides you have not had very many positive encounters when you went out. Are you trying to show how macho you are? Getting roughed up by big cats is not a good thing. I would have to take you back to Dr, Candie. Do you really want that?
you are right Mommie. But, you are going to have to look out for me, because I think I will probably try again.
The outdoor cats tell me Mommie had a “pet” name for her darling Woffier.
She used to call him “fat baby”. She wouldn’t allow anyone else to refer to his weight like that but she said he was HER baby and if she wanted to call him “fat” that was alright. Apparently Woffier didn’t mind; he just
sat and took it.
Mommie, I want my own “pet” name. Quit calling me “fat baby”. I am NOT your precious Woffier. (Mommie’s note: I suspect a big green-eyed monster is involved here.) And, p-l-e-a-s-e don’t
use anything with “fat” in it. I am NOT fat. As the kids would say, I am height challenged.
How about “cutie pie”? You know I am cute and I probably would like pie – its food isn’t it?
MY OWN “PET” NAME
Mommie and I thought about it for a long time. Mommie came up with “Puffy Cat”. Now, I like that.
Mommie said this name is special to just us. She said she
wouldn’t use it to scold me or use bad words with. She said she wouldn’t allow anyone else to use that name, not even Daddie. She said she might use it when other people are around just to let them know that “we” (Mommie and me) had
a special connection.
Isn’t Mommie sweet?
MOMMIE’S BAD BREATH
This morning when I uncurled myself from Mommie’s shoulder, I did my cat stretches and began my morning run.
I jumped off
the bed and went ninety miles an hour running in a circle from the bedroom, through the living room, kitchen, dining room, laundry room, bathroom and back to the bedroom. Then I hurled myself onto the bed. I skidded to a stop three inches from Mommie. PU.
What was that smell?
Last night for supper Mommie had spaghetti with garlic and onions in it. Mommie needs to brush her teeth and rinse her mouth out with Listerine. I don’t even want to kiss her “good morning”. Mommie tried to pick
me up, but I ran away as fast as I could. She didn’t understand that she had “morning breath.” Usually she smells a lot better.
HOW I GOT DRUNK!
I was sitting on the table looking at the ceiling fan
going round and round and round. My head went round and round and round while I was watching it.
That fan was rumpling my fur and cooling me down – great! Round, round, round…….round. My eyes started to turn upside down and going
around in circles. When I tried to get up, I fell down and felt a little sick. I ran to the litter box and threw up.
Mommie said if she didn’t know better she would think I was drunk – whatever that is.
I hope Mommie doesn’t
let me do that again.