I HATE KITES
Today when we were in the park, I was minding my own business – well trying to. On the playground part I saw this boy with a toy that was flying in the air. Mommie pointed it out and said it was
a kite. She also said – “watch what you are doing because the strings in a kite can get nasty.”
How did she know? After a while I couldn’t stand it any more and I just HAD to go see that kite up closer. The little boy
hanging onto the kite wasn’t more than six years old. His hand holding the kite’s string was close enough to the ground so that I could jump up and get the end of it.
Just as I was jumping the little boy panicked and let go of the kite.
I was fortunate (?) enough to grab the end of the string and hang on. Pretty soon the wind let up and the kite started falling to the ground. The closer to the ground it got, the more string was winding around my left front paw.
I was in a jam. The
little boy stood shaking beside his daddy because he was afraid of me. I was shaking because the string was getting closer to my neck. I did my best YOWLing and Mommie came running. She untangled me and began unknotting the kite string so the little boy could
have his kite back
Mommie did her usual “I told you so” speech as she carried me back to the cat mommie bench. It took at least five minutes for my heartbeat to get back to normal.
Mommie decided it was time for a break so she took me fishing with her. She got out the rods and reels she had stored in the closet. She stopped at the bait shop and got bait. Yum, yum. That bait smelled g-o-o-d. Mommie didn't even offer me a bite.
I can't believe Mommie sat there for two hours just holding that stupid rod and reel with bait on the end because apparently the fish weren't biting. I looked into the lake and saw some very small fish around the edge. I put my paw into the water to grab
one. Uh oh, that water was cold and since I have had too many bad experiences with water, I decided to let the fish live.
When Mommie was ready to go, she packed up everything to go home. As she pulled the line in (with no fish on the end), I tried
to grab the bait that was on the end of the line. Just as I lunged for the bait, Mommie bopped me on the nose.
Later she said there was a fish hook on the end of that line and if I had gotten the bait I would have gotten a sharp hook in my mouth. She
didn't want to have to take me to see Dr. Candie and explain where and how I got a fish hook stuck in my mouth. When we got home Mommie let me have the whole dish of bait for supper.
I love Mommie.
I LOVE PIZZA!
After Mommie left from visiting Daddie she stopped to get a small pizza with loads of cheese, pepperoni and hamburger. The veggies were green peppers, red onions, and black olives. Mommie ate two of the four pieces and then she sort of
forgot the pizza on the kitchen counter.
I didn’t forget. I was upset because she hadn’t even offered me a bite when she was eating. She looked at me and said something about “fat”. (Mommie needs to look in the mirror –
During the night when Mommie was sleeping I hopped up onto the counter and took several bites. Ummm cheese and pepperoni. I ate all the cheese and toppings – except for the onions and black olives. The green peppers were rather tasty because
they were well cooked but I left the crust.
Mommie was just a tad upset with herself for forgetting to put the leftover pizza away last night. She looked right at me when she said: “I wonder what happened to the pizza top.” I
just looked back with my most charming “who me?” face.
ALUMINUM POP (SODA) CANS
Mommie drinks too much Diet Pepsi. She has a whole laundry basket full of empty cans. Every month or two she takes them to
the junk dealer and gets money for them. She says that is her “pin money” but I don’t think Mommie even knows what “pin money” is. She splurges on a new lipstick or shampoo or a little trinket for me with the money she
Last night I was doing my regular rounds of getting on top of things. Usually Mommie has the cans in a garbage bag to keep them from rolling out of the laundry basket onto the floor. She thinks I would play too hard and maybe cut my paws on the
cans’ pull tab. This time they were not confined to a garbage bag. I jumped on top of them and I tipped the basket over and cans went flying everywhere.
Mommie had just gone to bed thinking I would join her in a little bit. When the cans hit the
floor, there was a LOT of noise. I ended up in the middle of the pile of cans and I started rolling several on the floor. It was fun.
Fun, until I cut my left front paw on one of the pull tabs. Of course, Mommie put some iodine on the open wound. Ow,
ow, ow. The iodine hurt worse than the cut. It wasn’t a deep cut, but Mommie wanted the iodine to cleanse the wound.
Am I never going to get tired of jumping on top of things?
ENCOUNTER WITH A SNAKE
it is spring, I spend some of my time in the garden. The outdoor cats don’t seem to like it, so I consider it MY territory. At least they don’t bother me when I am in it.
Yesterday, I was looking at the lettuce and the peas. They were “growing
just right”. At least that is what Mommie said yesterday when she went to get some radishes (yuk). I am doing what Mommie says, I go down the rows, not across the rows. (Mommie, the deer don’t obey that rule, but I do.)
go into the watermelon or cucumber patches because I can’t jump that far to get over without stepping on some plants. The truth is because I tried it once a couple weeks ago and I jumped on a snake. EEK. MEOW, MEOW, MEOW.
Mommie said it was a
harmless garter snake. She said that they actually helped the garden by eating some of the bugs (icky, icky). He was too slimy for me.
Mommie and I have been staying with Uncle Tom for
awhile. Uncle Tom has three outdoor cats: Patches, Spotty and Blackie. Unfortunately for me, Patches used to be an indoor cat, so when the temperature got down to 20 degrees Patches insisted on coming in too.
For the first hour we stared
at each other seeing which one of us could hiss the loudest. Patches finally got tired and went STRAIGHT TO MY FEED BOWL. He also had the audacity to use MY litter box. I don't know what I am going to do.
I know Mommie loves me and sometimes
Uncle Tom does too, but Patches is going to get the best of me yet. I thought this was MY house, but Uncle Tom reminded Mommie that Patches was here before me.
If I had hands I would be wringing them. What am I going to do? Patches is almost
twice as big as me and I have lost several outside battles already. Mommie promised me that I would be the one sleeping on her bed. She said Uncle Tom could invite Patches to his room if he wanted to.
What am I going to do? What am I going
Yesterday I heard Mommie scream in the kitchen. She yelled “Who let Sparkles outside in this cold?” She went to the patio door and tried to let me back in. I ran away as if a ghost was chasing
Mommie ran to the bedroom to get her coat so she could go out and comfort me. And there I was curled up, sound asleep. Mommie screamed again.
When Mommie calmed down she reminded me (and I think she needed to hear
it out loud too) that the saying is that everyone has a double somewhere. Who would have thought my double would show up at Uncle Tom's back door? Mommie swore (not the bad words kind) that my double looked just like me. He was skinny, but muscular and his
markings were almost like mine. Even his head was small like mine.
Mommie held me extra tight for a long while.
BRR-R-R – WINTER
Mommie and I have moved to Nebraska. Guess what? Winters are
COLD here. Yesterday the temperature was 5 degrees with a wind chill of -11. I haven't felt anything that cold before. Down in Texas the temperature only got to 22 degrees when I lived there.
The last couple days it has been cold and Mommie
insists that I get outside and experience it. She showed me a nice warm place that has a bale of hay and is located in a little wood shed. Unfortunately, some of the outdoor cats use it as their winter residence. But when they went out hunting yesterday I
snuggled in for a nice long nap. Mommie actually started to worry about me. I'm not going to tell Mommie how good it was. She might make me stay out all the time.
When I came in the house I pretended to really be cold by shivering. I want
Mommie to live where it is warmer. She says if I want to live with her we have to stay here. (I wonder if my Texas neighbors are in the market for a cute, sweet house cat? Hmm!)
Mommie says:”Get over it. You will survive. Besides
its not as hot and humid in the summer.”
I HATE PATCHES
Mommie says: “HATE is such a harsh word. You should say STRONGLY DISLIKE.” Apparently “strongly
dislike” is more politically correct. (Whatever that is.)
Since Patches used to be a house cat, Uncle Tom said he should be in the house when it is that cold. That is another reason I strongly dislike this cold
weather. Uncle Tom suggested that I learn to appreciate the cold because it is going to get a lot worse. OH NO!
Do you know what that zkdjf@#$ cat did? He ate out of MY dish, used MY litter box and tried to sleep on Mommie's bed. Mommie
gave me a new dish and is buying me a new litter box tomorrow. She shooed Patches off her bed. (Ha-ha) Uncle Tom said Patches could sleep in his room.
Mommie has her Texas neighbor's phone number on speed dial. Wish I knew how to use it.
THEY'RE NOT MINE!!!
Uncle Tom came blustering into the house barking at me (just like Sparky does): “There are not one, not two, but FOUR baby kittens in the woodshed. I want to
know what you have been doing the last few months since you have been here. First of all you took over the house and refused to let Patches in. Now that Patches is in you scare him so he hides from you. And, now you have four baby kittens in the shed! When
are you going to quit running this household?”
I'm sorry Uncle Tom, those baby kittens are not mine. Maybe you should be yelling at Patches. He was around the same time as I was and so was Spotty. Mommie set the record straight: “Sparkles
has been, ahem, 'fixed' so he couldn't possibly be the father. You should really be talking to Spotty. I saw him in a very fatherly mode playing with those kittens earlier today.”
I hope Mommie didn't see me playing with
those kittens yesterday. I like to play with them because I can boss them around and really have fun with them. The momma is ok but she is not very friendly; she chased me away from the babies.
Apparently the impression is that I
RUN the cat menagerie. Maybe I shouldn't be so hasty to try to get back to Texas. Hmm.
Several days ago Mommie brought home this huge package with a turkey in it which she unwrapped and put in the
refrigerator right away. She said it had to thaw out before dinner two days away. I feel sorry for the turkey. For the last several weeks all you heard on TV was where to get the best deal on a turkey. Mommie said she got a “steal” on the turkey
On Thanksgiving morning Mommie was up at 5 a.m. putting “stuffing” inside this ugly looking animal. She actually went up through the bottom with the stuffing. (I sure hope that bottom was clean.) She took bread and a bunch of other stuff (I
get it now) and mixed them altogether. Something Mommie called sage didn’t smell too good.
About 2 p.m. people started coming in. By then Mommie had set the table and used all her good china and silverware on the almost new table cloth. (Why do
they call dish sets china?) Everyone seemed to bring something. That bowl of scalloped potatoes sure smelled good.
After dinner Mommie and the ladies did the dishes and the men and I watched football on TV. Mommie says this is what they do every year.
Patches peeked out from under the couch to watch TV.
When we went to bed Mommie said I had been a real good Puffy Cat and she was proud to be my Mommie. I ate too much turkey, but I didn’t feel sorry for him any more. Patches lumbered into
Uncle Tom's room but was too full to jump on the bed. (Patches really ought to go on a diet - ha ha.)