The Dog Made Me Not Do It

I know I said I had a post today. This is Not it.

This is a complain-y post written right before I go to bed.

Raising a puppy is a pain in the rear.

He has been ever so trying this weekend.

We thought he was so very house-trained. Shocked in fact, the first couple days.

Lies. It was all lies. Deceit. Perpetrated by that evil tiny thing in order to make us believe he was good. When in fact, he is an evil pee-er.

May I take a break from this complaint to praise the homebuilder for putting tile on the bottom floor of our home.

Thank you. I heart the tile.

However, to return to the complaining, I cleaned up puppy pee 7 times yesterday. 7 spots.

Let me repeat.

Seven.

Seven times in one day.

After a perfect first week, he is warming up to us, getting comfortable and letting loose.

Don't get me wrong, he is still really cute. And can be very sweet.

The constant training. A drain.

Beyond being on constant Pee Watch, we are not allowing him upstairs due to the cats, litterboxes, and wall to wall carpeting.

We don't have a baby gate there, and it is extremely hard to put one there due to the stair railing being open, and the cats knocking it over, so I am trying to teach him it is off limits.

He runs halfway up the stairs, to the landing halfway up the stairs. I chase after him, saying "No" in my stern voice, and "Down" I stomp on the stairs to make noise that will startle him.

After running up the stairs 74 times, he understands that he is not to be there. It is off limits. But he still wants to sniff cat butt, so he persists, hoping not to be caught. However, due to my newly attuned dog watching abilities (see 7 puddles in one day), I have seen him and have ran after him.

We have done this, I swear, at least 70 times this weekend. He has the idea, "I am not allowed up there," he gets that. Yet he can't stop himself from pursuing cat ass.

I understand the allure. Well, no. Not really, but whatevs, he is a dog. Albeit the purported smartest breed Ever. (Don't trust me, Wiki says so.)

I know, I know. He is a baby that requires lots of training. I have been to the library, I have books. I am working on it.

But oh my, I fully and totally get my reluctance to get a dog. Cats are soooo easy. They require zilch zero training. Their mothers teach them how to use the litter box. Then you May have to train them to stay off the table/counters, but that is it.

Dogs - you have to train every little detail. Their ability to destroy shoes, shirts, furniture, knick knacks, cats....you have to work with them every waking moment to ensure they aren't hellions.

Please bear with me. There are sure to be many many more posts of this nature.

Oh, and his name is Colt. Colt McTrouble Last Name Omitted to Protect the Innocent.

Hello (Family) and Goodbye (Cass)

For the past 2 weeks, beyond the thrill/fear/panic of buying our new house, I have been freaking out about today. A couple weeks back, it was decided that Not Craig’s family was going to come to our house for Thanksgiving due to a series of events. Then, due to a series of canceled plans of their own, my parents were asked to come to our house. Our apartment, which does not fit more than 4 people comfortably, was soon to have nearly 3 times that many people, 3 cats and a huge bird.

I have never cooked a turkey before. I have never been responsible for such a huge meal before. Well, I chickened out and bought a box of pre-cooked stuff from Kroger. They say it is pre-cooked. While it is easier than cooking everything from scratch, it was still a 2 ½ hour production.

Dinner turned out great. The first meeting of our parents, turned out great. In between dinner and dessert, we all drove out to our new house so that our families, which all live out of town, could see the home. Our parents all rode together. And they loved each other.

They all oohed and aahed over how wonderful their son, and their soon to be son-in-law did at picking out a conflict free gem for their daughter and soon to be daughter-in-law.

Nearing the end of our Thanksgiving celebration, I gave my parents a gift, which they never disclosed to me that they wanted. A secret wish for a sweet cat they kept for months during my transition back to Houston last year, which I spent living in a hotel for 2 months. A secret they never shared with me, yet readily disclosed when Not Craig drove 4 hours to ask for my hand. My sweet Cass will be overwhelmingly happy with my parents living as an only child.

What a perfect day.

What a wonderful way for our families to begin the sharing of our lives together.

How thankful I am.

With the Warming Temperatures...

Bamboo Season Begins...



There was more....

Buy yours here or at most pet stores. I swear by it.

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof

Kitten’s history has been documented quite well on this blog, hell, I should pull a Dooce and write her a letter each month for her to read when ….um… someone teaches cats to read, so she can learn how she was as a kitten.

Only problem being, every month it would read:

Dear Kitten: This month you continued to wake me each morning between 3:00 A.M. and 5:00 A.M. by licking my nose. I cannot wait until you grow out of this. You also continued to pick on Yoda, causing her to need Valium. I have removed all sharp objects from Yoda’s reach as she is rumored to have discussed “killing her some Kitten”. Otherwise, you were an absolute hellion delight. I hope you will forgive us one day for not coming up with a better name for you.

Love, Mama

Poor Kitten.

However, this day has surpassed all others in Kitten’s short life.

This day has surpassed all other days in my extended days as a cat owner.

Kitten has hit puberty.

I have never before seen a cat in heat.

God willing, I will never see it ever, ever, ever again.

I am traumatized.

It started last night. It may have started yesterday morning as soon as I locked the door in the morning, but since they are latch-key cats. I will never know.

When I got home, Kitten was quite vocal. She frequently will meow when she can’t figure out where I am because, oops, I left the room, it’s dark and with her crappy eyesight, she can’t figure out which way I went. I should have gotten the poor cat Lasik.

The other cats were hiding while I was making dinner, because when the stove is on, that usually means the smoke alarm is about to go off. So they hide at the bottom of my stairway, where the air will be clear. Kitten, however, was meowing up a storm. I would call her, yet she would just continue. I would go find her, and she would continue. I couldn’t get the cat to hush. Not even with a well placed, Cesar Millan approved, Tsscch!!

Then, the usual petting, resulting in a bit of raised rear, was intensified. Seriously intensified. By this morning, she was walking, constantly crouched down, anxiously awaiting her lover.

Poor, poor Cass.

Kitten chose Cass to be her de-virginizer.

The fighting that occurs nightly, was much louder than normal. And continued far past the usual time. It started around 2:30 A.M. and continued until nearly 4 A.M., when I finally locked Kitten in the back room. She howled for another hour or so until I let her out. She then continued to beg Cass to give it up until around 5:30, when she decided to turn her affections towards me. I tried to calm her and her howls down until at 6 A.M., I gave up, pulled my laptop onto the bed and started looking for a vet in my new neighborhood. And, of course, once I was fully awake, she promptly went to sleep. After keeping me awake from 2:30-6 A!M! ! ! !

When I got out of the shower, this morning, I was greeted by all 3 of the cats at the bathroom door. Kitten was offering her wares to both spayed, female cats. I took another shower, hoping to block that image from my mind. It didn’t work.

Here, Kitten was begging Cass for some loving:

No worries, Cass may have run this time, but she cannot resist the Kitten:

My entire morning was a scene from Brokeback Attic.

I am scarred.

Kitten is now in the clutches of her forever, one and only, Dr. Veterinarian, who promises to fix this love sick puppy for me.

Bob Barker was so right, please spay and neuter your pets. You do not want to witness what I have. Bleach to the eyes will not cure me.

**And before I get the comments, asking why it took me so long to get her fixed…I know I should have done it earlier. All my pets get spayed. This go round, however, I was a bit busy, what with the whole moving to another state, living in a hotel, sleeping on an air mattress, and related biz-ness.**

UPDATE: I just called to check how she is doing and was advised that all the appropriate parts were removed and that the testicles were added. Surgery was a success. Won't the other 2 eunichs at home be so happy!!

Miss Crazy Cat Lady 2008

I probably appear to be a Crazy Cat Lady. Hell, my Fun Monday post pretty much cemented that reputation. And I probably am, except for the man in my life that legitimizes my obsessive cat ownership as a simple “animal-lover".

Shut up, that is my own personal validation. It works for me.

While I may be considered a Crazy Cat Lady on the innernets, I officially, am NOT the Crazy Cat Lady of my block.

May I introduce you to some of the neighborhood cats:

And those folks, are the ones that would stick around for me.

The realtor that showed me the place told me it was cat-friendly. And boy, howdy, is it!

The number of black cats causes problems. This morning, for instance, I am backing out and I see a black cat dash up the driveway, see my car, and turn around and bolt back down it. It looked terrified, or on a mad dash, a Buffalo Stampede. I am concerned it is poor Yoda, who sits at the bottom of my stairs and meows, wanting freedom, who has bolted out of my door on a couple of occasions already, the latest being when I came home tonight. I worry that perhaps I didn’t see her escape this morning and she is loose. I continue down the road until the fear becomes too much. Yoda is declawed and not an aggressive cat, she has had her ass kicked repeatedly by Kitten and has been cornered on previous escapes by neighborhood cats (Have I mentioned how that damn cat used to jump off my balconies?) I did not feel good about the small chance that she was loose in my neighborhood. So, I pull a You-EE and run back in my house, where, she is still sitting at the bottom of my stairs, willing it to open.

Anyhoo, when I met the landlord, I got the low down. In the building next to mine, also owned by my landlord, is the top Crazy Cat Lady. The self-nominated, Crazy Cat Lady of the block. Whew, I am safe! I hope she doesn’t move any time soon, I am not ready to assume the throne.

She feeds, houses, and has outside litter boxes for those that don’t go inside. She is the Queen of the Cat Kingdom. I met her last night and that is when the true breadth of the problem was evident. At least 4 cats I had never seen before appeared. I pointed out to her that I hadn't seen all of these before. She laughed... that there were many more than the 9 that were surrounding her!

However, she didn’t bring all the cats around. She is not to blame, completely. It all started a couple years back. One of the elderly residents of my building hadn’t been seen for awhile. Someone accessed her apartment and she was found to have passed away. She was the Ultimate Crazy Cat Lady. There were cats everywhere – probably a hundred cats in her apartment. Some were taken to shelters, some had to be put down and well some…are hanging out on my car hood right now.

So there. I can continue to rant about my cats without fear.

I am Not the Queen.

I only get the silver medal.

Fun Monday - Meet the GrrAnimals.

Previous visitors will know that I couldn't resist this Fun Monday!! Lisa has requested that we discuss our Animals. For goodness' sake, I have a category devoted to my brood of cats.

In my photos stored on my computer, I have a folder titled, "Animals". I have had my computer about 2 years. It has 209 photos currently. I have many more in my boxes of photos and I am sure that I deleted many, many outtakes, as well. I love my pets.

I have always had pets. Growing up, we had both dogs and cats. A Doberman that dragged me around the backyard by my hair, while I squealed with delight, Ms. Kitty who gave me my very first pet that was "mine". Fridgie. Named after Refrigerator Perry. Hamsters. Rats. A few fish.

I have always had cats though, more than any other type of pet.

Out of my 3 felines, I have had Yoda the longest.
I got her from a co-worker, in 2001, as a kitten.

I called her Yoda, because the night I brought her home, my other cat that I do not have any longer, was in her face, not being too welcoming. Scared as could be, Yoda's little ears were off to the side, just like her namesake. I had no intention on calling her Yoda forever, but nothing else really worked out and she was stuck as Yoda.
I adopted Cassie a year or so later. She is a manx. (Just a stubby little tail.)
Cass was a stray that had lived in my apartment complex for years. I adopted her as she was the sweetest cat. Calm, loving, gentle as can be. I found it especially surprising that she is so trusting, after I found a pellet lodged along her back. Apparently, someone shot her with a pellet gun. The pellet can be felt just along her spine. The vet has recommended that it remain, as it seems to be causing no problem and the danger associated with removing it outweighs any benefit.

She received her name because of her,...um...reproductive tendencies. She had several litters while living as a stray in this complex. Mama Cass.

After adopting her, I had her spayed. I dropped her off at the vet that morning, and had an extremely busy day at work. Around noon, I checked my voicemail. The vet had called and asked me to return her call asap, as they had found something interesting when they shaved her down, in preparation for the surgery. They couldn't reach me...and since they had her sedated, they proceeded with the surgery. Turns out...someone had her spayed while she was still a stray! She obviously was loved around that complex! So, Poor Cass was spayed twice.
Cass spent the last few months with my non-pet loving parents, while my living arrangements were....less than optimal for 3 cats. They absolutely adored her.

They also provided her with a new nickname. Cass is extremely lazy. She is the epitome of the Lazy Cat. However, every couple of days, she flips. She sprints around the house, nearly in circles. She doesn't really run...she is more like a rabbit, hopping instead of running. She is noisy. Ridiculously loud in these Buffalo Stomps. Hence, she is now referred to as Buffalo by my parents. (Her style of running is common in Manx cats, more hopping than strides. Read the wiki page for more details.)

I am not sure she likes the nickname.

Kitten's history has been publicized on this blog as I just adopted her recently. You can read about her story here, here, and here.

Although for some darned cute pics, I truly recommend you check out the whole Shameless Promotion of Cats category.

She was a dumpster kitty, found in my apartment complex. She had an icky illness, that had completely gooed up her eyes, causing her to be nearly blinded and apparently she strayed from her littermates where she was luckily found due to her screeching meow, by my Love.


We took her in, not sure if we would keep her as we already had 2 cats. I was about to go live in a hotel for 2 months, where, due to His work schedule, I would need to take the cats with me. However, once you take something in, once you spend money on it, once you wipe its ass, once you name it (4 names and counting), it is yours.

I denied it for awhile, still do sometimes, but that cat is ours. She is staying. Although the naming process isn't going well... She is nearly full-grown now and her name remains Kitten. She has previously been known as Lydia, Sophie and Chloe.

My cats don't particularly like each other. They tolerate each other. They fight sometimes. They have never been caught curled up sleeping together. If I see them relaxed, within a close proximity, my camera is quickly retrieved.




Here are the only 2 pics I have with all 3 cats present.


Don't they appear happy....

My cats are part of my family. I love them. I buy them gifts. I coddle them. And while they are cats, who frequently walk away, turn their back to me and outright ignore my existence, they also greet me at the front door, jump on the bed as soon as my eyes open, and follow me around. I can't imagine a life without pets, and I am glad these 3 found me.

Pretty Miserable Sister

I am so very, very tired this week. But see, I have no one to tell how tired I am because a certain very important someone has worked triple digit hours in the past week. Triple! How do you even work triple digit hours in 6 days? Who am I to complain of how I worked from 8-7 in a cozy little office with air conditioning, carpet and a cushy chair. My working conditions and hours prohibit any bitching to him this week. Dammit dammit dammit. Cuz mama is tired.

And has thought of many new ways to kill the cutest weetle kitten. She needs Benadryl, Valium. I am quite sure the cat has ADD, a major sleeping problem and a slight empathy problem. I don’t think it matters how early I go to sleep anymore, she is going to destroy several hours of this sleeping business.

And the dreams of someone breaking into my room, they could stop. Thanks!

I have a really hard time with motel places. The ones where the rooms open to the outside. I get really freaked out that some dude in a red hoodie is breaking in and attacks me. He has followed me across many states for many years. Well, he apparently has followed me to Houston and has upgraded his hotel stays.

And the night before last, both cats decided to join in on the fun activity of Wake Mama Before Sunrise. To the right of me, the usual culprit Chloe was licking my face, to the left, Yoda joined in by nuzzling at my neck. Hi, kitties, love the attention and all, but it is 4:00 A.M. When the clock says 7:00 and I have overslept, then and only then is this acceptable behavior. Please, pretty please with a mackerel on top?

How will I ever survive a child? I was trying to rationalize with a damned cat at 4:00 this morning. “Look, little kitty cat, I will give you treats, I will make a special Fiesta run and get you Canned Cat Food, if you will just let me sleep until 6:30 without any further interruption.” “No, really, please.” “Ok, well, how about a new toy? You like mice? Would you like a brand new mouse?” And by 4:45, I was offering the damned kitten a pony.

I can just see it now, my 6 month old baby will have a Maserati.

Would someone please babysit a very friendly early rising kitten please? Pretty please with a Maserati on top?

Ya Think She's Cute?

Wee baby kitty is so cute!

Freaking Adorable.
With a Capital "A"!
I just wanna squeeze her!
AWWWW!!
The cuteness is irresistible, isn't it!
OMG! Did you see da wee weetle tongue!!! AACK TOO CUTE!!

I am dying here from the cuteness.....




Unless she bites your nose EVERY DAY AT 5:00 A.M. on the dot.

EVERY DAY!

AWWWWWW!!

Aren’t things so much cuter when they are small? A miniature anything is just freaking adorable. If I saw a baby scorpion, I would think AWWWW what a cute wittle bebeh scorpion. Just as I crushed it, burned it and spread its ashes on my doorstep as a warning to all the other cute little bebeh scorpions.

You simply can't resist the adorable-ness of miniatures!

But you know what is cuter and makes a person go AWWWWW twice as loud….a tiny thing that you feel sorry for. A poor little tiny sick bebeh anything.
So feel sorry for Poor Little Sophie, the relapsing queen. Yesterday, one of her eyes was a tad gooey, but ya know, maybe she stayed up late partying and was a tad hungover. I understand how it goes…. But this morning, there was no denying that we had a problem. Both eyes were gooey and the bad one was much cloudier than it had been just the day before.

As a result, today I have learned a few things. Vets won’t give you their precious meds without being a patient. Even just penicillin and some eye goop. Damn licensing laws.

Further, you can’t buy simple meds like penicillin and eye goo online (or at Walmart!) without a prescription. I did find one Canadian site where I could get the eye goo, but it would take too long to arrive.

I wasn’t able to squeeze the poor little sad bebeh into the one open clinic. However, after much begging, crying and perhaps a small payoff and promise of future offspring, I was able to obtain some eye goop from the previous extortionist veterinarian poor sickly pathetic weak Sophie, visited. The vet thought the deal of future red headed children was sweet enough that she helped me out even though the clinic was closed.

And now, icky little baby Sophie is in the isolation tank that is our bedroom. The lights are dimmed for her poor sad little eyeballs. Or perhaps because the roof leak is back. Either reason, the lights are out.

She is missed by all members of the household, especially the hungry ones:



Get Well Soon!

Meowing Mommy

Ya,ll…I have been feeling very mommy-like recently. This kitten came to us in such a state that she requires a lot of care, attention and general watching over. I gotta give her medication, check her eyes and ears, ensure she is eating, drinking, pooping, that she has learned to wipe after said pooping, although I am not sure how I would teach her to do so if she didn’t come with that knowledge already.

Now that she is feeling better, much more energetic, and since she has finished her dosings of antibiotics and is generally better, we are mixing her with the original cats. Who hate her. So when I am at the library Saturday, I also go to the pet section and read up on common reactions of felines to new home invaders. My cats are normal and I am doing what I should do with them. Tell them how much I love them and give them extra treats and basically kiss their ass. So…I am wiping one cat’s ass and kissing the other two.

Since the kitten is no longer locked in the bathroom, she is able to get into so many more things. She loves the taste of electrical cords. She loves attacking my feet while I am on the computer. She generally likes destroying anything she sees. So…Discipline is coming into the picture. She is getting knocked on her nose for all this misbehaving. She is learning “No” means Mommy is fed up and is gonna pick you up and proclaim you as devil spawn.

She is exploring this big new world we call our apartment. The other cats, after 3 days of her being loose, are at least staying in the same room with her. They still growl and hiss and run away if she dares to cross that invisible boundary where no feline under the age of 5 can cross.

But back to that mommy-ing and discipline. I have discussed Yoda’s puking issues. They haven’t let up. This morning, after the kitten slept with us all night from 9:00-6:00. (It has been years since I went to sleep at nine. Man that rocks!). She had some needs to address when she got up. She headed straight for the food bowl, litter box followed and so on and so forth. I get up and start reading blogs and making coffee. Because as another sign I am getting old, I am getting up earlier so I can have a more relaxed morning. I don’t really pay attention to all the noises around me, as kittens make a lot of noise. When I stand up to get my cup of joe, I see cat puke. Not that this is a strange occurrence. It is just like many mornings of the past 6 years of my life. Except kitten is eating it. Voraciously devouring regurgitated cat food. So I try to distract her with another item. Some other play toy. But she loves puke apparently. As I am cleaning it up, she is tearing apart the paper towels hoping to get another nibble. And Yoda is growling away. Constant growling.

And so I ask Yoda, “Are you mad that she is present or are you mad that she is eating your sacred puke?”

I voted on the latter.

The kitten likes to read...


She is quite interested in Revelations.












I am pretty sure she is going to attend an Ivy League college.




She was so interested, she was devouring the text.

But I was able to get a few pages read.

Kitty Schmitty

Who knew a tiny little kitty requires so much time….my week has been occupied with that tiny monster. She is doing much better. Her left eye still is bulging a bit (you can see this in the pics) I just can’t tell if it is ruptured or if it still has a chance of healing. It seems that she still has a bit of trouble seeing when we are 3+ feet from her and/or when it is low lighting.



She is also still sneezing, but this has slowed in frequency. She also has fleas. We dunked her once we realized it, but the simple antibacterial hand soap didn’t cut it and I am off to find some more potent stuff later.



She is running around the bathroom like a mad woman when we let her out of the tub. She definitely is feeling better and is acting more kitten-like. My hands are starting to show her “love”. However, once she tackles my hand, bites it a few times, she rolls over and wants her belly rubbed. She is still the most loving cat I have seen.

I have to give her amoxicillin and put ointment in her eyes 2x a day. She is getting smart to these treatments and last night’s dosing was a mess.



Off to find flea treatment and perhaps spend my day with goggles, a broom and a box of 20 Mule Team. Check this.