Caturday returns

Maus (aka HRH Miss Mausiemaus, Princess of Incurably Cute and Cuddly) has missed these sessions before the camera... in a pig's eye. If the hand holds a camera, it can't skritch her or rub her jaw or otherwise appreciate her soft silky loveliness. But at least we have this pic. Take the time to show appropriate awe. The quality of my sleep depends on her degree of satisfaction.

Can't sleep? Have your septum pierced.

Let your cat do the surgery. Don't take time to apply an analgesic or antiseptic in advance of the action. In fact, just let your cats cuddle up around your chin and chest, until one decides the other shouldn't be sharing this nice snuggle time with the old geezer who feeds them and grooms them and otherwise does a fair job of worshipping them. At that point, just make sure your face is partially between the two of them.

It won't actually cure insomnia, but it will give you a better reason for sitting up than "it's too cold to sleep." After all, it will require nearly a full box of tissues, or several trips to the sink to rinse the damp washcloth. It takes a while for the bleeding to stop (one may also be tempted, on a miserable January night, to simply put one's nose just outside the door, where the sub-zero temperature and wind chill could serve as well as an ice pack to slow the flow, but don't give in to that, unless absolutely necessary. It will attract the attention of the neighborhood raccoons and opossums). Half the night will be gone, and you won't have even noticed its passage.

On the plus side, if you're like me, you'll have warmed up the atmosphere fairly well with a spectacular array of good old monosyllabic terms the use of which your mother might not approve. A cold, wintry bedroom does shift rapidly under those conditions.

And, you have the added bonus of seeing the two cats fly off the bed to end up crouched in opposite corners of the room, staring at each other, one looking mightily miffed, the other smug -- as if to say, at least now you can't get those chin skritches you were working toward...

Of course, you know you're looking at a true cat person when the cats are allowed back onto the bed, snuggling on the pillow, within a half hour after the final drop of blood falls -- and there's no complaint about little ones snoring or whiskers tickling that damaged nose.

Little lambs

Bo Peep, Illinois style

photo from negative ca. 1910- 1920, "Henderson County" purchased at auction

I could never get my hair to stay up like that, when I had it long. That's why it's so short, now. That, and shampoo gets expensive when you have nearly a meter of braid to wrestle each time you shower...

Certain things you convince yourself are part of your identity when you are young, you eventually realize are merely burdens. The long, wavy hair, the high heels -- sure they're comely, but they're also cause for considerable pain at the end of a day. So much nicer it is to relax, enjoy the breeze blowing on your scalp without worrying how you're going to get rid of the tangles, so much easier it is to walk when you use the whole foot, the way nature designed it to be. Femininity is not defined by silken tresses or stiletto heels, but by manner and by intent. A tilt of the head, a tone of voice, those mark a person as womanly as clearly as does a bottled, blended fragrance and a scoop-necked blouse.

Masculinity, however, sometimes is defined by its trappings. (Language warning)

MacBeast doth murder sleep

I was going to get some sleep early, tonight, but the kittehs have decided they like each other, tonight, so the girls are chasing each other back and forth, up and down the hallway, over the bed, and around the chairs, gallumphing like a herd of elephants the entire time.

I might complain, but they're too darned funny to stop watching.

Signs of improvement

TiGrr is breathing through his nose, again, and able to drink water directly from his bowl again. With his kitty flu, he was unable to do either for two and a half days. I'd been giving him water via an oral syringe, just to make sure he didn't get too dehydrated, and had left a steamy bathroom for him to use as a sauna. It seems to have worked.

Now, I only have to worry about secondary illnesses, bacteria, and such. But he's showing signs of being the scrapper I always saw in him, so maybe I'll be able to relax in a few days. But I'm still not taking any pix of him, since he doesn't have the apparent dignity he has worked so hard to develop these last few years, and I won't insult my sweet boy by showing his snot-caked face... I'll just mention it, instead. ;-)

A little worried about a little beastie

Actually, it's not just a little worry. TiGrr has influenza. He sneezed pretty much constantly the night before last, and now is suffering from congested sinuses, so he's breathing out of his mouth. He's not getting any food, and I'm giving him water/broth through an oral syringe.

He was a relatively healthy eleven-year-old before he was hit with this, so there seems to be less concern than if he were older, or had a history of other problems, but then, flu is highly contagious and we have two other kittehs in the house, both of whom have weight issues...

Still. A few prayers from believers might help Mr. Grr. they couldn't hurt.

Friday Catblog: Do not disturb

Maus has taken possession of my pillow.



I would raise complaint about it, but...


She doesn't look terribly open to negotiation.



For more beasties, don't forget to check out Modulator's Friday Ark # 222, and, on Sunday, swing by the CotC, this week to be hosted at Nikita's Place.

Dogblog: Friday he has bunny on his mind

It's been a busy holiday season.

We had company all last week, while our friends were having their hardwood floors refinished. Not only did the people come, but their doggies stayed with us, as well (well, with Mom and Pop. I just stay here during daylight hours).

Anyway, Clyde very generously shared his stuffed toys with the other dogs, while they were here. Now that they've been gone five days, though, he's still a little protective of his bunny.



I wonder if Clyde will share his bunny with Santa, when he comes next week?

Don't forget to check out the other critters at Modulator's Friday Ark!

Lesson On a Caturday

I've been cleaning up images from a book dated roughly 1860-1880 (no copyright date, English publication) and converting the pages to postcards to share with friends at holidays, etc.

My own beasties have been, wisely, far away from me while I struggle with this project. Therefore, I bring you the only cat in proximity, this afternoon:



The Dog does notice her, too. And not in a traditional canine fashion, either.
Cue violins.

For more modern kittehs, etc., don't forget to visit Modulator's Friday Ark # 217, and, on Sunday evening, swint by the CotC, this week to be hosted at Artsy Catsy.

Dogblog: O, Mighty Hunter!

I took Clyde outside while Pop was using the vacuum cleaner (he does that, fairly regularly, & the noise bugs poor Clyde). So, we were out and about in the yard, not going very far, as I encouraged Clyde to explore at his own pace.



After rooting around in the flower bed, he thought he heard something...


Studying the distance for a moment, he... well...




It ddn't take a genius to figure out what had called him post-haste to the tree base:


Clyde guards Pop's garden well. Sadly, Clyde came in without a trophy, so I had to give him a couple of treats before I settled back into my chair.

He's such a g'boyyyyy.



Don't forget to stop by Modulator's Friday Ark, every week!

Friday Catblog: Who's leaving?

Who dat? Oh, it's the neighbor's kitteh, Oreo.


He was just Leaving...


Maple Leaving, that is.


He'll be heading over to Modulator, for Friday Ark #216, and on Sunday evening, he'll be at the CotC, this week to be hosted by Diamond-Emerald Eyes, et al., at House Panthers. You should check these guys out. Mrrrrowrr!

Dogblog: No soup for you!

A day late in my posting, but then, it's been an odd sort of week, hasn't it?

Clyde sat at my feet for my entire lunch and I didn't give him a single bite of my sammich. That's because there was a high onion content which made it doggie-toxic (not to mention what it did for my social life!), but that didn't sway him in his desire.

Or his disappointment.



Poor Clyde!


Don't forget to stop by Modulator, for Friday Ark!

Friday Catblog: Coming back

I inadvertently took last week off from catblogging -- I was elbows-deep in a graphics project, and forgot about the lovely wee beasties until sometime around Tuesday morning.

Still, I do have fine feline company pretty much everywhere I go. At home, I have TiGrr, Peanut and Maus. Over here at Mom's, I am usually greeted by Piers Plowcat. Sometimes, he curls up on the cathouse shelf and waits for me to come to him, sometimes, as he did here, he rises and moves forward to have me acknowledge his feline nobility.


If he were a little less feral, he'd be Mom's lap pet. As it is, he's the recognized King of Momsporchistan, with all rights and privileges infurred.



For more lovely beasties, be sure to stop by Modulator's Friday Ark #215, and, on Sunday, don't miss the CotC, this weekend to be hosted at Chey's Place.

Dogblog: Heat seeker Clyde

The furnace at the folks' place is on the fritz. It's going to take a couple of days for the part to arrive, so they can get the regular heat running, so Grammaw has brought out the electric-powered oil radiators for every room they regularly use.

Guess where Clyde has settled?

Don't forget to visit Modulator's Friday Ark!

Dogblog: Clyde on his toes

A couple of times, Clyde has nearly slept through his afternoon walk, right at the end of Jeopardy!

He isn't going to do that, again. He's figured out how to be notified the very second Grampaw shifts positions...


He stays on his toes by staying on Grampaw's toes.




Don't forget to swing by Modulator each week, for Friday Ark!

Friday Catblog: Dedicated To the One-Eyed Love

Each night before you go to sleep, my baby...


Whisper a little purr for me my baby.

Mr. Grr is only going to tolerate the flashy thing a very short while longer.


There are more animals to visit via Modulator's Friday Ark #213, and, on Sunday evening, at the CotC, this weekend to be hosted by Life From a Cat’s Perspective.

Friday Catblog: Forever in Blue Jeans

Not forever. Just every time I bring them back from laundering, Maus settles in on my denims. I've tried putting them in a closet (don't have one in my house), piling books on top of the basket (and then having them dumped on the floor) and creating a tower where the basket sits high above everything else. Maus still claims Queen of the Hill.

She's a regular terror in denim.

And she's not inclined to surrender her throne to anybody.

Me on pance, not putting pance on me.

I suppose I owe it all to clean living.

For more beasties, remember to swing by Modulator's Friday Ark #212, and, on Sunday, don't miss the CotC, this weekend to be hosted by the whole crew at Artsy Catsy My big Fat Orange Cat.

Dogblog: What to do with a rawhide bone

The other evening, Grammaw gave Clyde a brand-new rawhide bone before bedtime. Clyde usually gets rawhide treats right before lights-out, after his last time out watering the fence. So, Clyde took his treat and let it lie in the bed beside him for the night.

The next morning, it wasn't even slightly chewed.

Grammaw was worried that, maybe, Clyde's tummy was upset, so she offered to take him outside right away.

Clyde took the rawhide bone with him. He wanted to fetch.

Clyde doesn't fetch. He's about the only retriever I've ever known who just looks at the retriever toys after we toss them afield (well, we usually have to get him into a direct competition with another dog in order to persuade him to chase after a flying ball or whatnot). But when Grammaw tossed that rawhide bone, Clyde played "fetch" for a full fifteen minutes.

After which, he brought the bone in and chewed off the end of it.


A little while later, he plopped himself down in front of Grammaw
in supplication.

Grammaw appeared to be a little slow on the uptake, so he glanced my way.


I translated, he and Grammaw went out, and when they came back in, Clyde collapsed at the exact same spot on the floor, exhausted and contented.


He finished off the chew by bedtime, that night.



Here, I'll throw you a bone, too -- don't forget to swing by Modulator for Friday Ark.

Friday Catblog: True love does not run smoothly

Oreo, one of the kittehs who live on the porch next door to Mom, found the dog bed Mom put out to dry in Momsporchistan, and he claimed it for himself.

Am I not the most beguiling of creatures?

Smoky, his porchmate, was not impressed.

Poor Oreo.

Rejected. Dejected.

It will be some time before he recovers.

Stay away from me while I am miserable.

Please, don't reject the other beguiling beasties at Modulator's Friday Ark #211, and, on Sunday, be sure to stop by the CotC, this weekend to be hosted by Kashim, Othello and Salome, too, at The Catboys' Realm.

Dogblog: Clyde is Happehhhh

Just look at him. Clyde went to Bill and Jackie's played with Sammy and Brinkley, and then got a yummy treat... and Jackie had some more, for later, too. Does he think he's spoiled?


Does he care?

It is to laugh.


For more amusing and amused critters, be sure to look yonder, at Modulator's Friday Ark.