All Quiet on the Kitty Front

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, my furry brothers and sisters! This weeks marks the last week in the year of our cat 2010. It has been an exciting year. This was the first full year I spent in my new house. As the year winds down, my humans spend their time travelling to see family(whatever that is) and preparing for a new years party. Really what the word party means to me is an opportunity to hide from a bunch of strangers and hiss at them if they get too close.

I had a good week alone in the house; the kindly neighbor man came over to feed me a couple times a day. He must have been notified of my diet, because he stopped feeding me a lot more than my regular humans do.

Evan and Sudha returned home from the mystical country of Switzerland last Monday, and were very pleasantly excited to see me. I love it when my minions lavish attention on me. Naturally, I try to return the favor. I'm hoping they don't notice that they haven't trimmed my claws in quite some time. But I think Evan definitely is catching on. Both of my humans have taken to calling me their "furry alarm clock." I usually take my cue from the real alarm clock, which they frequently don't hear, then I climb onto the side of the bed next to Evan and reach under the cover to wake him up. My only motivation is that I don't want him to be late for work!

Evan is the one that feeds me every morning. It's gotten to the point where I will just ignore Sudha if she is awake before him because it's breaking the pattern. I must say, both of them are very good at dispensing the kibble, but there's just something about the way Evan does it in the morning. Sudha's better at doing it in the afternoon when they come home.

There is some good news from Switzerland though: Evan's mother, who's lap I graced with my divine presence around Thanksgiving time, is in remission. Her chemo and radiation is done with and everything is looking good. Clearly the moral of this story is that anyone who needs curing of any kind needs a cuddly cat to sleep on their lap. I'm not sure how anyone could deny the healing power of my tiny, fuzzy, presence.

I am looking forward to next year, 2012, which Evan informs me is the last year of life as we know it. I will see you next year, my furry brothers and sisters!

Stepping Lightly in a Kitty Wonderland

It's beginning to feel a lot like that time of year where I get left in the cold house for a week, my furry brothers and sisters. I'm not sure why my humans have to leave in the first place, but to add insult to injury, they feel the need to turn down the heat while they are gone. It's truly a far cry from the glory days of summer when I can bask in the scalding temperatures that are more befitting my heritage as a desert creature. Would it be so much to ask for to allow me to operate the thermostat?

It's not all bad though, the kindly old neighbor human comes over to serve me. He is quite generous with the kibble portions. Usually he also gives me a treat of wet food once or twice during the week.

Contrary to my reputation, I am quite cuddly and adorable. It takes me quite some time to get used to a new human. Sometimes this process take take weeks, but occasionally I can tolerate someone after a few days. I mentioned my human's mother a couple of posts ago, I hadn't quite forgiven her for bringing the cold weather with her yet. But I rather quickly warmed up to her, in comparison to other visitors. She spent most of her time on the la-z-boy recliner, so was ultimately non-threatening. On her third day here in my house I decided to take a nap on her lap and let her scratch me behind the ears. I think she was rather pleased. She seemed like she could use the loving attention of a superior being like myself.

I sat on her lap again after they all got back from their Thanksgiving trip.

I tried something new a few weeks ago: lay down on the couch next to someone who was over for dinner. Evan and Sudha's friends, Paul and Tara, came over, and brought Tara's Dad and Sister. I graciously allowed Tara's sister to sit in the spot next to me on the couch without so much of a hiss.

I did hiss later, to be sure, but that's to be expected.

Anyway, I wish you all a merry Christmas and a happy new year!

In Memoriam

It has been a sad weekend, my furry brothers and sisters. My canine counterpart from across the sea has passed away. She was a lovely old girl. Here are some pictures of her provided by Evan's sister Jane. Below the pictures is a note from Rosie that her human found when going through her things.

Sevgili kediciğim Harriet,

I can't write much, forgive me.  I have to go in a little while for my rabies shot.

The salutation is in Turkish, the language of my birth masters.  I've had the urge lately to do some digging around my roots, so when Feed-and-walk-me Female is out during the day I bone up on my Turkish. I can't get up to the desktop computer anymore.  Thanks heavens for the iPad.  So intuitive.  The screen licks clean very nicely.

Mistress is not coming home smelling of chemicals so much now, but rather of sunburn.  The weather has been dry and often sunny, but her face is not red, so I wonder. The sunning place must be far off, because she comes home very tired.  I do my best to make things easy for her, taking my pills easily and not lingering before doing my business when she takes me out.  I make it clear that the walks can be short.

I had a bout of The Gushing Bottom not long ago accompanied by some heaves.  Both Mistress and Early Up Male were patient with me, but they were put out.  I did my best to drop it all on the (Turkish) carpet where it would be less noticeable, but they took great pains to eradicate all my careful work. Then they tried to starve me!  Nothing at all for more than 36 hours, and after that a fraction of the normal haul.  

Then much whispering and hand wringing when Happy Hug Talk Female came back carrying scents new to me.  Much talking into the plastic thing in their hands. Significant looks in my direction.  Then they started to feed me some more, my troubled innards having calmed down, and I started to feel good again.  Whereupon all three bipeds seemed to cheer up.  They have a thing about firm stools, I guess.

Home-in-the-evenings Person has brushed me twice recently.  About time.  I know you cats are proud of your fur, but you should  see mine.  And stroke it.  Everyone says it's exquisite.  Brushing Male was quite overcome the other day as he undid my tangles.

Since the bad patch I have been getting even more food than normal.  But I must say that the overall service is not what it could be.  Since I cannot always get up, depending on where I've settled down, I naturally have to call for assistance.  This at first confuses them, as if, after 12 years, they still have trouble telling my calls apart.  No, there's no one at the door.  Please just lift my ass up so I can take a little drink.

I was thinking of laying down some post-its to remind myself of where not to lie, but that would give away much and we don't want the delusional Tall Ones cottoning on to the Great Dog Ruse.

It also seems to bother them that I sometimes fall down when walking or when going for the perfect angle of pee or poop.   I agree about the poop, and am careful to stay up, but when you gotta pee and you can't get up, you just pee.  

The other day the carrying box would not accept us inside so Porter Male carried me down the dreaded steps.  It was sweet, if tense.

We had a visit from some very nice humans for a visit last week.  Cooking Woman  was very tired, but she and her pack mate Kiwi fixed up that dinner with cheese and potatoes and it smelled very fine. Especially the thin slices of meat.  The visitors had a bitch pup who was very engaging and nice with me.  She agreed about my fur being so nice and planted a few highly appropriate kisses on my coat.  

I am tired and cannot do much, and I admit to more and more frequent moments of concern, as when I can't get up to take a drink when there are no bipeds at home.   Or when the building cats don't bother to move away when I shuffle up to them.  Movement is getting harder and harder and and I am not strong.  

Beautiful and sweet only get a bitch so far.

Still, I'm happy.

Anyway, Puss, I have to go. Take care of yourself.

Rosie

My House, in the Middle of My Street

It has been too long, my furry brothers and sisters. Winter is finally settling upon us here in the cold northern wastelands. It snowed on Saturday, just in time for Evan's mother to come into town. Strangely, it's as if she brought it with her just to spite me. As I dictate this to my human, I am at home alone with Catherine, Evan's mother. She seems to want me to sit on her lap, but I haven't quite forgiven her for the affront of bringing the cold weather with her all the way from Switzerland.

Speaking of Switzerland, I have some unfortunate news for you all. Rosie, the loyal canine who guest posted her for us once has passed away. Please keep her and her manservant, John, in your thoughts. John has provided me with a note that he found among Rosie's personal affects, and I will be posting it here after this entry is concluded.

My month has also been quite busy. I had my annual vet appointment a few weeks ago. Evan asked me very nicely to try to keep the hissing to a minimum this time around, and I did my best. I managed to only hiss once, and let go one low growl. I mean, wouldn't you want to hiss and growl if someone was taking your temperature from the rear-end? In addition, they felt the need to "clean" me out back there as well. As a result, I've been deliberately licking that region in front of my humans more often, just to make them feel uncomfortable. It really only seemed to make them laugh, though, so I stopped it.

Winter usually brings with it a distinct lack of creatures to stalk through the windows, but the last week has been very much an exception. Not one, but two different cats have come up to the back door to harass me lately. One orange tabby cat, and one mixed orange and white cat. The tabby put on quite a show for my humans, and they infuriatingly gave it a little bit of food to eat out of "pity." I made my displeasure known unmistakably. Other cats do NOT get fed at my house!

Speaking of being fed, I am now on a much stricter diet than I was even before. The vet very insultingly said I needed to lose another pound or 2. I have to say, I am wasting away here. I am not getting enough food to maintain my adorable belly. I'm usually hungry again a couple of hours after breakfast and dinner. And now my gullible humans are feeding me even less than they were before.

I get revenge in my own ways. My new thing is sitting on Evan's chest in the morning and rubbing my paw against the blanket right next to his face. I usually do this very early in the morning. I am going to have the house to myself for a few days over Thanksgiving. The kindly neighbor man is going to come by to feed me. I like him, he worships at the alter of my beauty and cuteness.

Until next time my furry brothers and sisters. Please stay tuned for a lovely guest post from the dearly departed Rosie.

A Canine from Across the Pond

Today I got a message from the dog Rosie, who currently resides in Switzerland with Evan's Parents. So today is a guest post, of sorts, from Rosie:

Harriet, hi.

Hork up any good hairballs lately?

Things are quiet here.  I can't walk much, but my digestive track is working ok and it's been a while since I've had to rush a warm gushy cream-hued heave out onto one of the better Turkish carpets.  I'm Turkish, so where should I heave?  No recent butt-geysers either.  Guy-with-Funny-Whine-Voice seems to like not having to use that little spray container with the chemical smell (offensive when offal would do nicely) and all those bunches of white paper to wipe it all up.  In obvious gratitude (he is well-trained) he now gives me more scraps when he's taking the chicken off the bones of a roaster.  I am grateful.

The other day I caught a sniff of my arch, the Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever, and launched myself down the stone-like stairs at him.  He is the only male dog who must die and I don't know why.  That is just how it is and I will not be swayed from this universal imperative.  Anyway, his scent seared my nostrils and I was lost in the passion of the moment.  My hind quarter problem got the better of me when I hit the bottom of the stairs and I could only lie there barking and snarling.  Still, neither he nor his owner (Yellow-headed Nordic Biped by breed) have been back on my turf.  It's not that I don't like breed dogs.  That black dude I first came up with, back in the day, he was well bred.  And, oh, did I like his scent.

Female-Who-Does-All-I-Need is much absent of late during the day and very tired in the evenings.  She comes home smelling of many complex compounds I do not know (what dumps does she roam when I am not there to guide her?) and I am afraid she knows more pain than I. Her spirits smell intact, however, and she has maintained focus on the priority of caring for me, so all is well and many moments are sweet.

The weather has turned with short days and cold rain and the Magic of the Warm Tiled Floor has once again appeared (I must make an offering).  This allows me to lie spread out on the floor soaking up the warmth.

Woof for now,

Rosie

Feline Summer

We are in the midst of what is referred to as an "Indian Summer," my furry brothers and sisters. I'm not really sure why it's called that. It has something to do with snow melting and American Indian raiding parties attacking white people. Although it's really beyond me why anyone would hunt or raid in a party. As we superior beings have demonstrated, hunting alone is clearly better. How could you possibly sneak up and pounce on anything if there is whole group of you?

Anyway, what the phrase actually refers to is a period of summer-like weather during the Autumn. The past few days have been very lovely and warm, with high temperatures in the upper 80s! But there are still plenty of fallen leaves blowing around for me to stare at longingly through the window.

I think the warm weather is bringing other unwanted visitors to the house. I have come to the realization that I am not the only cat in the neighborhood. I mean, I thought this may be the case when I heard my humans talking about other cats, but this year several of these "others" have come up to the back door of my house. They stand on the deck and look in the window at me. There is one black and white cat named tuxedo who comes by occasionally. There is one calico, who's name I don't know, who has been stopping by. I try to scream insults at them, but they don't seem to hear them. I don't think it's doing much for my reputation around the neighborhood.

Speaking of my reputation, I think Evan and Sudha's human friends don't like me very much. So I've been slowly trying to work on that. It has now been at least six times in a row where visitors have come to my house and I have refrained from hissing at them. Now letting them pet me, that's a whole different story. There are only a few people who I trust enough to pet me. Strangely, each of them has fed me at some point or another. I wonder if there's any pattern to this?

I have been spending more nights on the bed with my humans lately. Now that it's not brutally hot all the time, it's  nice to hog a good chunk of the bed with my tiny body. I think they still like it though, as long as I don't swipe at their feet.

Until next time my furry brothers and sisters!

The Cats of August

The summer is winding to a close, my furry brothers and sisters. It has been an exiting few months of staring out the window, sleeping, eating, staring out the window, using the litter pan, hanging from the screens, and staring out the window. I can tell you right now that I'm not looking forward to the seasons where the windows will be closed.

Winter up here in the cold, frozen northern wastes of Minnesota do have some benefits, though. My humans, Evan and Sudha will soon be graced by my presence at the foot of their bed, and more frequently on their laps!

My humans were out of the house for a week celebrating Rachel and Fernando's wedding in the middle of August. Everyone please give them your best wishes. The best part of that week for me is that the kindly neighbor man comes over to scoop my kibble for me. He is a very nice and cat-loving old man, and he feeds me a lot more than my regular humans do. I deigned to allow him to pet me after a few days of feeding me. It really does take me a long time to learn to tolerate any other humans other than my own. That's usually why I hiss at them when they try to pet me too forcefully.

I've slowly started to rethink the hissing philosophy, however. I recently discovered that less hissing usually ends up with more scratching behind the ears, and less water being shot at me from the big spray bottle. I haven't hissed at guests for the last 3-4 visits. Evan and Sudha seem to be pleased, not that that matters a whole lot.

Instead, I've started to focus my energy on finding newer more creative ways to wake my humans up in the morning when I feel it's breakfast time. First, I tried the brute-force approach: I went up to Evan's pillow, rubbed my paw against it repeatedly and then meowed directly in his ear. That seemed to be very effective. Unfortunately I've had to tone it down a bit, because it seems they have now learned to throw me out of the room when I do things like that.

Sudha's little sister, Suma, was in town a couple weekends ago. I remember when she used to live in my house. She really likes me and thinks I'm adorable (naturally) but sometimes pretends not to. So this time, just to re-enforce my cuteness, I decided to take a nice nap in her lap! Now, if I do say so myself, there isn't much better than a cute, purring cat sitting on your lap and keeping it warm for you on a cold day.

Until next time, my furry brothers and sisters!