Category Archives: life among the felines
First, the best video to date on kittehs, bar none!
Ok, now for today’s pictorial of the kittehs in repose.
Spanky relaxing on top, PeeWee relaxing underneath. It’s hard to see PeeWee but he is snoozing and refused to sit up for the taking of this photo. Get a load of Spanky’s tail..it’s one helluva fuzzy friggin tail wouldn’t you say?
This was supposed to be the lid for a litter box. But my felines refuse to use covered kitteh shitty spots..so the lid has become a very small sleeping place. It’s a hot spot too, as they all want to take a nap in it for some friggin reason.
The weather is still in the triple digits here. I hope by this time next month, it will be cooling off and I will not have to run the swamp cooler 24/7, as it sounds like a friggin jet idling on the tarmac.
Have a good weekend, if you drink, don’t drive. We will all just be kicking it here at the feline foster home and watching hours and hours of sports non-stop. Football, baseball..NASCAR and whatever sports-themed shit I can find on the boob tube.
Tuesday I take off for Sandy Eggo. My yuppie-sista-from-hell is getting more surgery on her hand and someone has to take her shit and drive her around. Plus..my baby sista is getting surgery on one of her eyes and I will take care of her doggie whilst she is unable to see or do much. Don’t ya know its a helluva lot cooler in SD than Bakersfrigginfield. 😉
This time however..I will have internet access..yay!
When we last left Sweetie, aka Faceplant, he was trying to adjust to life within the household. He was also shaved bald except for the hair on his face, and he had stitches galore.
Now, Sweetie Pie’s fur is growing back quite nicely, his stitches are all healed and he still is trying to fit in amongst the other felines in the house. Below is a photo I took this morning. As usual, he looks grumpy as shit.
The other males can’t stand him as he is pampered by me as we bond. The females don’t pay him any mind as he is neutered. He tolerates Fuzzy, Lee and Tabby Lynn, the usual suspects that seem to live in the bedroom, very seldom venturing out to the rest of the house. Below in order from top to bottom: Tabby Lynn and her sister Fuzzy.
Who would declaw a cat then let them outside? Dumb mutha fucka’s. Sweetie is quite lucky to have survived without any tools to protect himself.
He is not a picky eater, and tuna for human consumption upsets his stomach and gives him the shits. So he prefers to eat the Hairball formula dry food that all the felines are forced to eat because Clyde has a major hairball problem. Below is Clyde kicking back on the cat chair.
So there ends our Feline Friday edition. The world news today looks grim already.
Sweetie, aka Faceplant is coming along nicely in the physical sense. His appetite is good and he is becoming a finicky eater. He still wants nothing to do with the other felines and they don’t seem real interested in him either. Sweetie does approve of Sasha however. Below is Sasha and Bobbie a couple of years back. I love the hell out of this picture:
So, Sweetie and Sasha touch noses when Sasha gets on the bed. Sasha loves kitties and actually helped save three newborns from the dog next door last year. She heard them crying as the dog was tossing them up in the air like ragdolls. She wouldn’t settle down until I saved all three of them and brought them in the house so she could check them all over and make sure they were fine. Sasha loves when Clyde and Bobbie give her kisses..but..I digress.
Sweetie’s coat is growing back in, and his stitches are healing. With our temps in triple digits, the swamp coolers are running 24-7, so I have to cover him up or he gets cold. I tried putting a kitty coat on him, but he was none to happy with it. He seems to prefer being covered with one of my t-shirts..a previously worn t-shirt no less. Friggin weirdo..
Sweetie is also a very very VERY picky feline when it comes to using the cat box. Lil fucker won’t go in the box if there is any hint of cat doo-doo in it. I have an entire wall lined with cat boxes at this point and I clean out the damn things every time one of the felines uses it. This is getting old real fast…so I got an automatic, self-cleaning cat box that set my happy ass back one hundred bucks.
Pee Wee. My fearless little Pee Wee. Actually PW isn’t little anymore. He is still long and lanky but filling out nicely. He sounds like a herd of cattle when he runs down the long hallway chasing one of his step brothers or sisters at 6am every morning.
It’s been one of those weeks with the critters. A few of them are pms’ing bad and taking it out on the others. Spanky, here on the right, is on my last nerve as the youngest and most wily of the housemates.
Charlie and her brother Jack are still picking on Scooter, who then takes it out on one of the others..you know..shit rolls down hill.
When the DirectTv guy came over to take us off cable and into the world of satellite television, every single one of the cats ran under the bed and stayed there for hours. Thank Buddha I have a king-sized bed, or they wouldn’t of all fit.
Junior, the DirectTv guy was nice and professional but the nitwit had a problem with remembering to close the screen door behind him. The Ball n’ Chain™ was tasked with watching to make sure the door got closed and none of the house felines escaped everytime Junior had to go in or out.
After he left, we did a headcount and thats always fun around here…not! But they were all eventually counted for.
Last night, we splurged and bought two nice fat steaks and two gigantic potato’s to bake..er..microwave. When the BnC went out to clean the grill, he found out that a central part was broken and we couldn’t use the bbq grill to cook our magnificent steaks.
So we then began an online search for a quick fix…aka a new but very cheap charcoal grill to replace our expensive and now useless gas grill. Praise Buddha we found one..just one problem..
It needed to be put together. The BnC and I are not mechanically inclined..to say the least.
We got to eat them around 9pm..not too bad. Grilling in the dark is not without it’s problems. I like my steak rare..but cold and still mooing doesn’t do a thing for me. The middle has to at least be cooked slightly and friggin hot for christs sake. So, after numerous checks with a flashlight, my steak was cooked and we finally sat down at the dining table to eat.
At one point I got up to get something to drink with my wonderful meal.
The BnC isn’t the best at paying attention, so when I heard him scream Spanky’s name and tell him to ‘drop it’..I figured my steak was off my plate and being dragged around the floor by the Spankster. Believe me..he has dragged some large food items off the counter..huge things that look as big as he is. Pee Wee likes to drag an entire cube of butter into the living room and eat it and Bobby Joe has run off with a whole slice of pizza before..but I digress.
My steak was safe and untouched. We ate our meal and then I drug my tired ass into the bedroom to lay down and watch some sports on the boob tube. Dishes are NOT my responsibility and I didn’t give a shit if they got done last night or not.
They didn’t get done last night. The BnC was tired and cranky and wasn’t in the mood to wash dishes. Believe me when I say..I did not care one whit. Until I got up this morning to slop the hogs…
That’s when I found Pee Wee and Spanky playing hockey on the kitchen floor with an errant brussel sprout. The looked at me, screaming profanities at them, looked at the brussel sprount and hauled ass for a safe house..er..safe hiding place.
I had left 4 brussel sprouts on my plate. There were none on my plate when I looked this morning.
Nothing says fun like hunting down 3 lost brussel sprouts at 8am on a Sunday morning.
I found them all..and I am going back to bed. Have a good Sunday m’dear readers. 😉