Her Master Plan

I don’t know why she needed to be inside the stairs to play with the string, just like I don’t know why she has to drag the string to a box so she can beat it up. The overwhelming cuteness involved must be exhausting.

These are my favorites. All the toes!

She’s an adorable little weirdo who once again needs entertained when everyone else is napping.

A PSA from W. Charles Marmota

Animals don’t like fireworks.

That should be the logical, common sense end to the discussion, but noooooooooooooooooooooo.

Fireworks are loud, flashy, and unpredictable. None of that is appealing to animals. Fear makes US unpredictable and we really tap in to that flight instinct.

Let us stay home. Crowds create anxiety, people suck, and it’s July so it’s as hot as Satan’s balls in polyester booty shorts. If you HAVE to take us with you to big crowded events, then this might be more about YOU, and you might be a douche bag. Find some other way to get attention from strangers. (I’m talking to you as well, lady who brings her parrot on  a baby stroller to festivals.)

Let us stay home. Better yet, bring us indoors. Let us panic within the safety of solid walls. Protect us from the neighborhood asshole who thinks it would be funny to light firecrackers near us…or worse.

Overall we prefer May the Fourth.

Keep us safe.

W. Charles Marmota

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Just One Soft Pet

MomBert and the BF stopped by for a quick visit and a cup of coffee. In his formal role as The Helper Cat, Miles greeted his grammie with lap cuddles, and then attempted to welcome the BF to our home. Miles sat on the footstool conveniently within petting distance, looking attentively at the BF.

 

Nothing happened. To demonstrate what was supposed to happen, he went back to Grammie who cuddled him and told him he was handsome.

Miles then gave the BF another opportunity to pet him from an even better angle, the arm of the chair.

Nothing happened.

Miles could tell that Grammie and I were encouraging the BF to “just give him one soft pet” so he extended his head at the ideal trajectory for soft pets.

Nothing happened.

Sadly the BF was apparently raised in some type of cult whose doctrines must have preached that animals are dirty, and the only good “pet” is one that is outdoors preferably far from humans.

Miles just wants bring happiness with his handsomeness. He talks to everyone-they might have treats-,offers his assistance to delivery and repair persons, and even stays visible for the entirety of visits by toddlers intent on treating him like a plush toy. He’s not used to rejection. He really stuck with him.

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Hours later…

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I am nuts, but Miles is a very clean, non-stinky boy. The BF is stinkier. She may mean that the BF is a stinky boy.

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Helpful

Pets just want to help. Unfortunately, they want to help much in the same way that a toddler wants to help rewire the electrical outlets in your house, or help put away gigantic, freshly sharpened knives. In other words, their intentions are good, but we all know that the road to Hell is paved with those. 

Olivia Wigglebothum, Fashion Police, dragged another article of clothing in to the living room tonight. Her choice was a cardigan that was in a laundry basket full of clothes destined for donation. Her focus seemed to be the tag which must have been sticking out of the hamper in an alluring way.   

I’m unclear if she was helping by agreeing that this sweater should indeed go to the thrift store:”Good choice, Mum!”

Or if this was a plea to save the sweater? “You need to wear this EVERDAY!” She just wants to help me look good. 

How does one explain to the dear little meowstache that this sweater has seen better days? I didn’t wear it that frequently and the colors are hard to coordinate. Plus it’s size, and my size are no longer truly compatible. How do you explain that to someone who barely wears eight pounds on her fat days?! 

This is not for cats?

 

Here Olivia is helpfully reminding me that the ironing board and the associated sewing project have been sitting out for a really long time. So long that perhaps they are now for cats?

She is helpfully pointing out that even though I tell myself I’m going to work on this project, other things seem to take priority. I’m mean it’s only been in the works for two years.

***side note: It has not been sitting in my living room for two years. It comes and goes as the mood strikes. 

May Your Heart Be Covered in Cat Hair

It’s that day when we are supposed to succumb to the idea of the perfect occasion, the perfect romance, the perfect love…and buy a card. The media inundates us with endless commercials on the dinners, diamonds, chocolates, treats, and flowers  that need to be purchased to demonstrate said perfect love, and almost every television series seems to feature a holiday themed episode where it all romantically works out in the end. (I know because last night I watched  four different episodes of four different DVR’ed shows from this week and they were all sticky sweet goo meant to remind me that my life in no way resembles a sitcom plotline.)

That’s all good I suppose if you’ve got the romance thing going. Some relationships do seem to be if not perfect at least affectionate and wonderful on the surface or maybe they’re just in a good upswing. However the reality is or my view of reality is ( however you want to take that) that human love is mercurial. We say one thing, we actually want a different thing. Our moods and outlooks change, and our tolerance and adaptability for those changes  can be strained. Forget romantic love. Even friendships, which usually seem to have more longevity, tend to shift and change over time. I could even call in to question that whole “unconditional love” that is supposed to happen just because you’re related to someone.

No guarantees when dealing with people, people! (This is why I’m not hired to write commercials and television episodes.)

My best wish to you is “May your heart be covered in cat hair.”

Or the hair of whatever pet you favor. I go cat every time.

Me at the computer + trying to work= Luv for Miles

Me at the computer + trying to work= Luv for Miles

For unconditional love without questions, happiness brought on by your existence with or without gifts, cuddles without judgement of how much weight you’ve gained, and moods heightened by purrs, wiggles, barks, and ear scratches go for your pet. The only game they want to play are fetch. Have a romantic meal over the Feast that is Fancy, switch online dating services to online pet finding services, and buy a squeak toy or the really good catnip.

Olivia will give you her paw and her heart.

Olivia will give you her paw and her heart.

If Sookie could be an anime character with her soulful eyes, she would. Blink Blink

If Sookie could be an anime character with her soulful eyes, she would. Blink Blink

The Bird and her heart are works of art.

The Bird and her heart are works of art.

“Werewolf?” “There wolf.”

Civilization is breaking down in my neighborhood.

When I left the house at 3:00 yesterday there was no sign and I didn’t notice it when I came back a couple of hours later. However by the time I left again for pre-St. Patrick’s Day shenanigans at 6:45, something had changed. Attached to the stop sign at the corner was a three-foot high piece of cardboard wrapped in plastic and duct taped to the sign’s metal pole. Clearly it was meant to resist weather and time. Where it might be more normal to see an invitation to an open house or a yard sale, this sign was a warning more suited to street corner zealots with the apocalypse on their minds.

WARNING!

COYOTES ARE AROUND HERE.

PLEASE DON’T LET YOUR PETS OUTSIDE OVERNIGHT.

The coyote apocalypse that is.

 

Coyote apocalypse underway.

Coyote apocalypse underway.

I could only sit in my car and wonder, “What the fuck happened now?”

There is always ample room for weirdness in my hood. Are there now roving packs of coyotes in my extremely NOT RURAL subdivision? (I am within two minutes of a multitude of major highways) If, yes, where are they hanging out? In the basement I don’t have? In the shitty apartments that the police are always raiding a block up the street? Do they camp at the Pee-Drinker’s house all day comparing urine scents? At dusk do they flow out of the sewers in bony waves of gray brown fur, snapping at the darkening sky in their lust for neighborhood pets?

Or is this a confused reference to drug coyotes? Are there hordes of border crossers wandering around the neighborhood after dark just waiting for that heroin balloon to pass? To kill time and to work off the edge from drugs slowly seeping into their blood streams, have they been noshing on tiny animals?

Either way, something horrible has happened to a neighbor’s pet. Someone on the street stumbled on to the horrific aftermath of someone/something’s nocturnal activities and it inspired them to put paint brush to cardboard and warn the world. But just the world exiting my street at this stop sign which does limit its message somewhat.

But who?

By the time I thought about the possibilities later, it was too late to text my next door neighbor to see if he was safe from feral animals. He is my partner in watching the neighborhood and shaking our heads in joined confusion/amazement at the goings on. Would Sick-Margaret, who feeds ALL of the stray cats in the world, have had the energy and initiative to make and tape up a sign? It is in front of her house on the corner.

Did something happen to the floofy little dog of my neighbor on the other side of me? Is Shirtless Roger now crafting signs? Does the Pee-Drinker have a vested interest in the welfare of neighborhood pets? And there ends the extent of who I know on my street.

A final option that may be more sinister than drug coyotes yet more logical than packs of wild dogs is werewolves.

Yup, werewolves.

Werewolves don’t need wooded areas or sewers to hide in until it’s time to swarm; they’re people during the day. They just go to work or vacuum or shop online. They can basically hang out in their houses somewhere on my street until it’s dark and time to dine out. (There is totally a eating ‘pussy’ joke here but werewolves are too serious of a problem to make jokes.)

So is it just one werewolf or a pack? Is it eating pets to stave off its hunger for bigger meatier game like people? Are there not enough people wandering the neighborhood after dark to make them worth hunting? I find that hard to believe, so this much be a werewolf with a strong sense of morality.

Which brings up the question, does it go full on animal mentality? Or does it maintain some of its human cognizance? Will it see the well-crafted sign and be offended? Hurt? Remorseful?  

“Egads, I had no idea that was someone’s fur baby!! What have I done?!” Tiny werewolf tear. Tail tucked between legs.

Returning from my St. Pat’s party, I cruised through the streets, taking a  slightly longer drive home on the lookout for more signs and, of course, werewolves.

You can never be too cautious when it comes to werewolves.

You can never be too cautious when it comes to werewolves.

 

This morning I texted my next door neighbor. He has not been attacked by animals or werewolves…as far as I know. It could have been anyone responding to me; I didn’t see him. He says he saw the deaf couple from down the street put the sign up yesterday.

I was all like “We have a deaf couple?!”

According to him, they have cats.

According to me, the sign is a misdirection tactic. They are the werewolves.

Happy St. Patrick's Day. I keep my pets indoors to thwart werewolves.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day. I keep my pets indoors to thwart werewolves.

 

 

 

 

 

Day 27: Wish List

It’s the time of year for giving and being nice and generally trying to be decent humans. So here’s my plug: Nothing makes you a more giving and decent human than a pet.

It’s a mutually beneficial relationship. Pets make you feel all good and fuzzy inside because just giving them a cuddle or some kibble triggers all the unconditional love that they come jam-packed with. I am an all-powerful goddess to four cats because I can rub tummies and open the food can.

When the CDC isn’t creating pamphlets on surviving a zombie apocalypse, they’re out walking their dogs. According to their website:

One little yum-yum under the covers. Evil Bird has the biggest purr.

“Pets can decrease your: Blood pressure, Cholesterol levels, Triglyceride levels, Feelings of loneliness.

Pets can increase your: Opportunities for exercise and outdoor activities Opportunities for socialization”(That must be for the dog people.)

My pets make me feel important and useful because their warmth and happiness gives me purpose.

On the flip side, pets benefit greatly from a fur-ever home. Safety, health, food, warmth, love and attention are all on their furry Maslow’s Hierarchy of Need. Baby, it’s getting cold outside and there are way too many little animals who’ve been abandoned and could use a hand.

I have the Evil Bird because she randomly chose my yard last fall and I brought her in because she was freakin’ adorable and needed help. Now I have an awesome little fuzzball who appreciates my body heat. (Yea, I’m useful!)

Because of the winter weather, this is also the time of year that animal shelters get packed with creatures in need.

So if you’re still working on that “I wanna be a decent human” thing, consider the Holiday Wish Lists of your local animal shelters. My two favorite are:

http://www.colonycats.org/    (They help dogs too!)

http://www.catwelfareohio.com/