Amy Sumida's Blog - Posts Tagged "cats"
Splelunking Sebastian
So I admit I'm a cat lady. If you've read any of my books and have read even further, the About the Author blurb in the back, you'll know that I have two of them. I also sleep in a very high bed, which I have to climb up into at night. It's kind of the axis of my little world and I do a lot in that bed... get your mind out of the gutter. Everything I need is within reach when I'm up there, my TV is balanced on top of an armoire across from my bed etc.. I have very high ceilings and I've also created a little network of ledges that allow my kitties access to everything. They can run everywhere, except two places which I've blocked off because of the breakables I display there. Of course, this is where they want to go the most.
So this morning, or should I say mourning, I was awoken early(and by this I mean 11am as I'm a night owl, usually up to 4 or 5am)by the unmistakable sounds of my cat Sebastian tromping through areas unknown...unknown to him that is. He had somehow leaped from a ledge onto the top of the TV laden armoire and proceeded to explore behind the precariously positioned flat-screen and the delicate freestanding Oriental shelf adorned with very expensive porcelain mermaids. Sigh.
So I clear a way for him to jump back to the safety of my bed but no, this is not what the adventurous cat wants. Instead of choosing the easy way out of his risky business, he instead wedges himself into the space behind the armoire(which is about 7 feet tall) and proceeds to spelunk his way down the back of it, emitting a horrible eeking scratch of a noise the whole way down. Now my 20lb feline is stuck behind the armoire, and the only way out is blocked by yet another cabinet, piled high with electronics.
I had to move everything out so he could crawl out, while Dominic, my other cat, sat watching it all with a confused air and a look that clearly stated his disgust in his brother's behavior. I thanked him for his sanity as I cursed Sebastian's kitty curiosity which almost resulted in the usual end: death.
And the day has only just begun.
The good news is, Harvest of the Gods, the first book in my new split series, is almost done, I'm going through the polishing stage and next it will go for review with my best and most helpful critic, Krystal. I'm still stuck on the cover though. Also, my first children's book, There's a Goddess Too, is out and for sale on both Amazon and Createspace.com.
So this morning, or should I say mourning, I was awoken early(and by this I mean 11am as I'm a night owl, usually up to 4 or 5am)by the unmistakable sounds of my cat Sebastian tromping through areas unknown...unknown to him that is. He had somehow leaped from a ledge onto the top of the TV laden armoire and proceeded to explore behind the precariously positioned flat-screen and the delicate freestanding Oriental shelf adorned with very expensive porcelain mermaids. Sigh.
So I clear a way for him to jump back to the safety of my bed but no, this is not what the adventurous cat wants. Instead of choosing the easy way out of his risky business, he instead wedges himself into the space behind the armoire(which is about 7 feet tall) and proceeds to spelunk his way down the back of it, emitting a horrible eeking scratch of a noise the whole way down. Now my 20lb feline is stuck behind the armoire, and the only way out is blocked by yet another cabinet, piled high with electronics.
I had to move everything out so he could crawl out, while Dominic, my other cat, sat watching it all with a confused air and a look that clearly stated his disgust in his brother's behavior. I thanked him for his sanity as I cursed Sebastian's kitty curiosity which almost resulted in the usual end: death.
And the day has only just begun.
The good news is, Harvest of the Gods, the first book in my new split series, is almost done, I'm going through the polishing stage and next it will go for review with my best and most helpful critic, Krystal. I'm still stuck on the cover though. Also, my first children's book, There's a Goddess Too, is out and for sale on both Amazon and Createspace.com.
Frustrating Felines
So awhile back we started feeding a stray cat that was coming around the house. He knew a good deal when he saw one and brought his girlfriend for a cheap dinner. Then in typical male fashion, he knocked her up and took off, leaving us to take care of his mess.
The mama cat gave birth to five adorable kittens but when I found her birthing nest, she took off with them and hid them until they were old enough to bring around to eat solid food. By this time they had turned feral and are too wary of humans to take in to the Human Society to be adopted. So now we are feeding six cats.
Luckily, the Humane Society has a wonderful catch and release program for feral cats in which you can bring a cat in to be neutered and microchipped and they will give you back the cat to release back into the wild. My cousin and I decided that we would get them all fixed before we had our own cat colony living under the house. So we went down to the Humane Society to get a trap which you can borrow from them for a deposit of $100.
I thought this was a bit steep, especially since you are expected to pay for every neuter and microchip in the amount of $25. But it needed to be done and the deposit was refundable when you returned the cage.
So we go down there and meet two of the most annoyingly stupid girls I have ever had the displeasure of meeting. First, after telling them the purpose for our visit, one of them immediately starts drawing up paperwork, even while I'm still asking questions.
Evidently the Humane Society doesn't want people to use their program because they seem to make it very hard for you to do the right thing. I told the girl we had a mama and five kittens but she said not only could we only bring in one cat per cage, we could only get one cage per household. I signed up separately from my cousin so we were able to get two cages at least, bringing our total trips to the Humane Society down to eight, one to pick up the cages, six to drop off and then pick up the cats, and one to return the cages.
When asked if I could give my receipt to my cousin so she could return my cage, I was told an emphatic no. Then, when I told her we weren't sure if the mama cat was pregnant again and would they be able to tell? And if so, they wouldn't fix her, right? The girl ignored my question completely and instead asked for my phone number. I repeated it, stating that she could just hold her horses on the paperwork until all of my questions were answered. Finally the other, less stupid girl, answered me, saying that no they would not operate on a pregnant cat but let's just say I wasn't convinced.
After all of this, the first stupid girl announces that there are no appointments until Thursday(it's Monday and the cage rental is only for a week). My cousin tells her that she spoke with someone on the phone who had assured her that there were appointments available for the very next day.
"No," says stupid girl, "that can't be right."
"Call Susan," says the less stupid girl.
So she gets on the phone and finds out that there are appointments available for both Tuesday and Thursday.
"But it's Tuesday, so you'll have to wait till Thursday, like I said," she says snarkilly.
"Actually, it's Monday," my cousin says.
The girl just looks at us blankly until the less stupid girl says, "Yeah, it's Monday."
"Okay, fine, I'll put you down for an appointment for Tuesday."
"So, tomorrow," my cousin says.
"Tuesday," says stupid girl.
"Which is tomorrow," my cousin persists.
"Yeah whatever," stupid girl says. "So you want one appointment?"
"We're getting two cages," I growled. "You just did our paperwork. How many appointments do you think we'll need?"
Another blank look.
"They need two appointments?" Less stupid girl says to her.
I'm told by my cousin that when she took the kittens in the very next day, which was a Tuesday by the way, the same stupid girl was working and her first question was:
"Do you have an appointment?"
"I have two," my cousin said.
Then the girl asks her what the cat's names were. They're feral, my cousin says, they don't have names. On top of all this, my cousin gets off work at 4pm but they won't let you pick up the animals until 6pm because they might be groggy. So basically, they feel that it's better for the cats to be groggy in an unknown terrifying place rather than at home where we could at least put them outside near their family.
I have never been so disappointed and angered by the Hawaiian Humane Society before.
To top it all off, we got all the kittens done but mama cat is just to willy to be caught. She looks at the cage and turns away, while those kittens get caught multiple times. Sigh, one little one was caught three times in one night, she wasn't even scared anymore, just sat in the cage and ate the food there. I guess she figured the worst had already been done.
The mama cat gave birth to five adorable kittens but when I found her birthing nest, she took off with them and hid them until they were old enough to bring around to eat solid food. By this time they had turned feral and are too wary of humans to take in to the Human Society to be adopted. So now we are feeding six cats.
Luckily, the Humane Society has a wonderful catch and release program for feral cats in which you can bring a cat in to be neutered and microchipped and they will give you back the cat to release back into the wild. My cousin and I decided that we would get them all fixed before we had our own cat colony living under the house. So we went down to the Humane Society to get a trap which you can borrow from them for a deposit of $100.
I thought this was a bit steep, especially since you are expected to pay for every neuter and microchip in the amount of $25. But it needed to be done and the deposit was refundable when you returned the cage.
So we go down there and meet two of the most annoyingly stupid girls I have ever had the displeasure of meeting. First, after telling them the purpose for our visit, one of them immediately starts drawing up paperwork, even while I'm still asking questions.
Evidently the Humane Society doesn't want people to use their program because they seem to make it very hard for you to do the right thing. I told the girl we had a mama and five kittens but she said not only could we only bring in one cat per cage, we could only get one cage per household. I signed up separately from my cousin so we were able to get two cages at least, bringing our total trips to the Humane Society down to eight, one to pick up the cages, six to drop off and then pick up the cats, and one to return the cages.
When asked if I could give my receipt to my cousin so she could return my cage, I was told an emphatic no. Then, when I told her we weren't sure if the mama cat was pregnant again and would they be able to tell? And if so, they wouldn't fix her, right? The girl ignored my question completely and instead asked for my phone number. I repeated it, stating that she could just hold her horses on the paperwork until all of my questions were answered. Finally the other, less stupid girl, answered me, saying that no they would not operate on a pregnant cat but let's just say I wasn't convinced.
After all of this, the first stupid girl announces that there are no appointments until Thursday(it's Monday and the cage rental is only for a week). My cousin tells her that she spoke with someone on the phone who had assured her that there were appointments available for the very next day.
"No," says stupid girl, "that can't be right."
"Call Susan," says the less stupid girl.
So she gets on the phone and finds out that there are appointments available for both Tuesday and Thursday.
"But it's Tuesday, so you'll have to wait till Thursday, like I said," she says snarkilly.
"Actually, it's Monday," my cousin says.
The girl just looks at us blankly until the less stupid girl says, "Yeah, it's Monday."
"Okay, fine, I'll put you down for an appointment for Tuesday."
"So, tomorrow," my cousin says.
"Tuesday," says stupid girl.
"Which is tomorrow," my cousin persists.
"Yeah whatever," stupid girl says. "So you want one appointment?"
"We're getting two cages," I growled. "You just did our paperwork. How many appointments do you think we'll need?"
Another blank look.
"They need two appointments?" Less stupid girl says to her.
I'm told by my cousin that when she took the kittens in the very next day, which was a Tuesday by the way, the same stupid girl was working and her first question was:
"Do you have an appointment?"
"I have two," my cousin said.
Then the girl asks her what the cat's names were. They're feral, my cousin says, they don't have names. On top of all this, my cousin gets off work at 4pm but they won't let you pick up the animals until 6pm because they might be groggy. So basically, they feel that it's better for the cats to be groggy in an unknown terrifying place rather than at home where we could at least put them outside near their family.
I have never been so disappointed and angered by the Hawaiian Humane Society before.
To top it all off, we got all the kittens done but mama cat is just to willy to be caught. She looks at the cage and turns away, while those kittens get caught multiple times. Sigh, one little one was caught three times in one night, she wasn't even scared anymore, just sat in the cage and ate the food there. I guess she figured the worst had already been done.
Catastrophe Averted
Finally I can breathe a sigh of relief. It's been months since this whole cat ordeal began with the simple feeding of a stray cat, which led to her having babies and bringing them around to eat. Oh, the terrible and evil cuteness of kittens. I wanted to round them up and take them to the Humane Society so they could be adopted but their mother had other plans for them. She hid them and taught them to be wary around us and now they're too feral to adopt, though they are starting to warm up to me. So instead of adopting them out, we decided to catch them all and have them neutered. Easier said than done, and if you've read my past blogs you know how much hoops I had to jump through with the Humane Society to get these cats fixed.
We caught all but the mother, some of the kittens being stupid enough to get caught numerous times, and I despaired that we'd never catch her and she'd go and get herself knocked up again, thus starting the cycle all over. I had nightmares of being smothered in an ever growing tide of kittens like the episode of Star Trek with the tribbles(is that even spelled right? I'm not a trekkie).
Anyway, last Saturday was our last chance of catching mama cat as our rental of the cat trap is up tomorrow and the only appointment they had left was Sunday. I had previously stayed up till 6am trying to catch mama cat to no avail so I was not hopeful in my endeavor but I'm happy to report that finally, at 2am, I was successful and caught that willy kitty. She has been fixed and the cycle has been stopped. Though she gave me an angry glare when I released her, she had no problem coming back five minutes later to eat the food I put out for her. I am so relieved, I can sleep once more. Now I get to name the kittens, we have four boys and a girl...I was thinking Dexter.
We caught all but the mother, some of the kittens being stupid enough to get caught numerous times, and I despaired that we'd never catch her and she'd go and get herself knocked up again, thus starting the cycle all over. I had nightmares of being smothered in an ever growing tide of kittens like the episode of Star Trek with the tribbles(is that even spelled right? I'm not a trekkie).
Anyway, last Saturday was our last chance of catching mama cat as our rental of the cat trap is up tomorrow and the only appointment they had left was Sunday. I had previously stayed up till 6am trying to catch mama cat to no avail so I was not hopeful in my endeavor but I'm happy to report that finally, at 2am, I was successful and caught that willy kitty. She has been fixed and the cycle has been stopped. Though she gave me an angry glare when I released her, she had no problem coming back five minutes later to eat the food I put out for her. I am so relieved, I can sleep once more. Now I get to name the kittens, we have four boys and a girl...I was thinking Dexter.
In Sickness and in Hell
I'm blessed to have two living grandmothers and they are as different as night and day. I've nicknamed them Spike for my paternal grandmother and Fluffy for my maternal. Yet as different as they are, they have both recently tortured me in similar ways.
I started feeling under the weather last Tuesday. By the next day I was really feeling bad but I'd promised Fluffy that I'd take her to the bank. So I didn't tell her I was ill, figuring it would be a quick jaunt, down the street and back. I actually live in a little apartment beside Fluffy's house so this wasn't a big deal for me.
However, once in the car she starts to list off more errands she'd like to do. "Oh, I need to go to Walgreens," she says. And then it's PetCo for cat food, then Safeway for groceries. By the time she's got all her groceries in the wagon at Safeway, I'm about ready to keel over and she hasn't noticed my distress at all. This from the same woman who moans and sighs all day and gets upset if you don't ask after her health...because you know, she may be dying. Finally, she looks at me and asks if I'm okay.
"No," I say. "I'm not, I'm feeling sick, are you about done?"
Well that got us out of there finally and I went home and sank happily into my bed, all set to rest while she looked after my cats, Sebastian and Dominic, for me. No more than ten minutes after I snuggled down with a heating pad, she comes knocking on my door. I climb down out of bed(my bed is lifted quite high) and open the door to find a very discombobulated Fluffy.
"Sebastian pushed his way out of the screen door," she says. "Then he went around the fence."
I throw on my clothes with a heavy grown and pad out to our neighbor's house, where Fluffy said Sebastian made his escape to. After getting permission to scour their property, I plod down their extreme hill and into their back yard where I find Sebastian contentedly eating grass under their car. He comes out immediately, having no idea that he's done wrong, and I pick him up and carry him back up the hill.
Having failed at cat sitting, I no longer trust Fluffy to watch my babies so I take both boys back into my house and close the door on the world. The next day I discover the amazing magic of Emergen C and start feeling much better but I find that I now have insomnia and am unable to fall asleep until 7am, a situation that would have been fine if the next day didn't happen to be my niece's birthday party which started at noon.
Grandma Spike was kind enough to wake me up with a phone call at 11am and come and pick me up for the party. On the way there she regaled me with stories of people I don't know and frankly, at that moment, didn't care about, including one about her friend Edith who she'd been helping move to the mainland. Edith has a cat named Charlie who Spike felt strongly about introducing me to. Evidently I'm the cat expert in the family and all cats must be introduced to me for inspection.
I tried to tell her about my recent success on Amazon, how well my book was selling and that I'd actually peaked at an author ranking of 18,ooo(to give you an idea of how great this is, I started out in the 500,000 zone). She nodded and then started in about Edith's furniture. Furniture! Fine, whatever. I was too tired to be upset.
We go to the party, which is a pool party no less, and sit the required amount of time eating pizza and watching children spit all over the cake while trying to blow the candles out. Then we finally head home and we are about to take the exit to take us back to my house when she suddenly veers off into another direction declaring that we must go to Edith's house so I can meet her cat!
"Grandma," I say in a tired voice(I've already told her I've only had four hours of sleep and have been sick so she doesn't have the excuse that Fluffy did of not knowing)"I don't want to meet the cat."
"It'll just take a moment," she insists and as she's driving, I can hardly do anything else about it.
We get to this ghetto apartment building and pull up the one lane that goes practically vertical, so we can enter the parking structure, only to find that someone else has parked in Edith's spot.
"Oh well," I declare, "let's just go home."
"No, I'll just park on the street," she says and point out a spot across the four lane street from us.
I have to add at this point that Spike is the worst sort of elderly driver. She's the woman who causes accidents and then just drives on unknowingly. Every time I enter her car I wonder if I'll live to see a new day. Half the time she's driving, she's focused on me instead of the road, gesturing wildly with her hand as her other hand(holding the wheel) follows along and swerves us about willy nilly, forcing other people to careen out of our way. Now this woman has decided to cross four lanes of traffic to parallel park in a small space just so I can meet a cat.
We barely make it across and pull up to the spot, where she comes to a stop without putting on her turning signal to give the driver behind us any idea of what the hell we are doing. She looks at the spot and declares that she can't fit, then takes off, almost ramming the poor guy who has now gone around us. Once again she swerves across the street and pulls up in front of the building, parking not only in front of a fire hydrant but an inch away from a crosswalk.
"Grandma, you can't park here," I declare.
"I won't be long," she says and marches up to the building, using the dangerous single lane car entrance instead of the stairs because her hip hurts. I sigh and follow her up to this lady's smelly apartment to meet a sweet but dirty feline who looks at me with eyes clearly pleading for help.
I scratch his face and shake my head. Sorry, Charlie, you're stuck with the old broad. Then, while I'm distracted by the cat, Spike invites Edith along to ride with us back to my house. I follow unwillingly back to the car, thinking I'll get into the back seat and go to sleep. But no, Spike comes up and whispers to me to put Edith in the back, she doesn't want her riding up front with her. What the hell? Why invite the woman along if you don't want to talk to her.
Then we start heading back and Edith starts shooting questions at me from the back seat... starting with what do I think of her cat. WTF is up with this damn cat? I tried to answer her but it turns out that Edith is hard of hearing so she just keeps asking me the same question until Spike tells me I have to yell at her. So now I'm exhausted, on the verge of a relapse, shouting at an old woman in the back of a car as we speed down the highway, swerving into other lanes each time Spike gestures too effusively.
Miracle of miracles, I make it home in one piece but now Spike wants to bring her friend out to meet Fluffy and show her my cats! No, I was done. I told them my cats are shy around strangers and left them to their old lady hugs as I went for another glass of Emergen C and then headed to bed.
There's nothing like the Hell that family can put you through.
I started feeling under the weather last Tuesday. By the next day I was really feeling bad but I'd promised Fluffy that I'd take her to the bank. So I didn't tell her I was ill, figuring it would be a quick jaunt, down the street and back. I actually live in a little apartment beside Fluffy's house so this wasn't a big deal for me.
However, once in the car she starts to list off more errands she'd like to do. "Oh, I need to go to Walgreens," she says. And then it's PetCo for cat food, then Safeway for groceries. By the time she's got all her groceries in the wagon at Safeway, I'm about ready to keel over and she hasn't noticed my distress at all. This from the same woman who moans and sighs all day and gets upset if you don't ask after her health...because you know, she may be dying. Finally, she looks at me and asks if I'm okay.
"No," I say. "I'm not, I'm feeling sick, are you about done?"
Well that got us out of there finally and I went home and sank happily into my bed, all set to rest while she looked after my cats, Sebastian and Dominic, for me. No more than ten minutes after I snuggled down with a heating pad, she comes knocking on my door. I climb down out of bed(my bed is lifted quite high) and open the door to find a very discombobulated Fluffy.
"Sebastian pushed his way out of the screen door," she says. "Then he went around the fence."
I throw on my clothes with a heavy grown and pad out to our neighbor's house, where Fluffy said Sebastian made his escape to. After getting permission to scour their property, I plod down their extreme hill and into their back yard where I find Sebastian contentedly eating grass under their car. He comes out immediately, having no idea that he's done wrong, and I pick him up and carry him back up the hill.
Having failed at cat sitting, I no longer trust Fluffy to watch my babies so I take both boys back into my house and close the door on the world. The next day I discover the amazing magic of Emergen C and start feeling much better but I find that I now have insomnia and am unable to fall asleep until 7am, a situation that would have been fine if the next day didn't happen to be my niece's birthday party which started at noon.
Grandma Spike was kind enough to wake me up with a phone call at 11am and come and pick me up for the party. On the way there she regaled me with stories of people I don't know and frankly, at that moment, didn't care about, including one about her friend Edith who she'd been helping move to the mainland. Edith has a cat named Charlie who Spike felt strongly about introducing me to. Evidently I'm the cat expert in the family and all cats must be introduced to me for inspection.
I tried to tell her about my recent success on Amazon, how well my book was selling and that I'd actually peaked at an author ranking of 18,ooo(to give you an idea of how great this is, I started out in the 500,000 zone). She nodded and then started in about Edith's furniture. Furniture! Fine, whatever. I was too tired to be upset.
We go to the party, which is a pool party no less, and sit the required amount of time eating pizza and watching children spit all over the cake while trying to blow the candles out. Then we finally head home and we are about to take the exit to take us back to my house when she suddenly veers off into another direction declaring that we must go to Edith's house so I can meet her cat!
"Grandma," I say in a tired voice(I've already told her I've only had four hours of sleep and have been sick so she doesn't have the excuse that Fluffy did of not knowing)"I don't want to meet the cat."
"It'll just take a moment," she insists and as she's driving, I can hardly do anything else about it.
We get to this ghetto apartment building and pull up the one lane that goes practically vertical, so we can enter the parking structure, only to find that someone else has parked in Edith's spot.
"Oh well," I declare, "let's just go home."
"No, I'll just park on the street," she says and point out a spot across the four lane street from us.
I have to add at this point that Spike is the worst sort of elderly driver. She's the woman who causes accidents and then just drives on unknowingly. Every time I enter her car I wonder if I'll live to see a new day. Half the time she's driving, she's focused on me instead of the road, gesturing wildly with her hand as her other hand(holding the wheel) follows along and swerves us about willy nilly, forcing other people to careen out of our way. Now this woman has decided to cross four lanes of traffic to parallel park in a small space just so I can meet a cat.
We barely make it across and pull up to the spot, where she comes to a stop without putting on her turning signal to give the driver behind us any idea of what the hell we are doing. She looks at the spot and declares that she can't fit, then takes off, almost ramming the poor guy who has now gone around us. Once again she swerves across the street and pulls up in front of the building, parking not only in front of a fire hydrant but an inch away from a crosswalk.
"Grandma, you can't park here," I declare.
"I won't be long," she says and marches up to the building, using the dangerous single lane car entrance instead of the stairs because her hip hurts. I sigh and follow her up to this lady's smelly apartment to meet a sweet but dirty feline who looks at me with eyes clearly pleading for help.
I scratch his face and shake my head. Sorry, Charlie, you're stuck with the old broad. Then, while I'm distracted by the cat, Spike invites Edith along to ride with us back to my house. I follow unwillingly back to the car, thinking I'll get into the back seat and go to sleep. But no, Spike comes up and whispers to me to put Edith in the back, she doesn't want her riding up front with her. What the hell? Why invite the woman along if you don't want to talk to her.
Then we start heading back and Edith starts shooting questions at me from the back seat... starting with what do I think of her cat. WTF is up with this damn cat? I tried to answer her but it turns out that Edith is hard of hearing so she just keeps asking me the same question until Spike tells me I have to yell at her. So now I'm exhausted, on the verge of a relapse, shouting at an old woman in the back of a car as we speed down the highway, swerving into other lanes each time Spike gestures too effusively.
Miracle of miracles, I make it home in one piece but now Spike wants to bring her friend out to meet Fluffy and show her my cats! No, I was done. I told them my cats are shy around strangers and left them to their old lady hugs as I went for another glass of Emergen C and then headed to bed.
There's nothing like the Hell that family can put you through.
Thunderstorms and Thundercats
I can definitely tell it's December in Hawaii, we've barely had a dry day in over a week. My house actually gave up the fight for a random five minutes the other night when it decided to spring a leak at the juncture where one of my rooms adjoins another. It gushed and gushed and then just stopped. This is why I have ferns growing out of my roof... yes, my roof. My house is so old that sometimes I think the roots of those ferns are the only thing holding my roof on.
So for those of you who actually read this blog, you'll know all about my little cat colony I have living under my fern ridden house. For those who don't or don't remember, I had a pregnant female move in recently and had to go through the arduous task of getting her and her five children fixed so they wouldn't start multiplying like trebbles(tribbles? I don't know). Anyway, they've stuck around and are finally getting friendly and allowing me to pet them...while they eat. So I decided to try naming one.
The one I chose to name was of course the rattiest of the bunch(I have a thing for misfits). He's a black cat with yellow eyes who cries when he sees his mother. He also caught a cold recently with all the bad weather and has had a rather bad run of it.
So I looked at this cat and thought, he's a beautiful yet creepy guy with Mommy issues. I'll name him Dexter. and in the way of all male cats, he seems to know that he's been named and assumes this means that he's also been claimed and therefore entitled to special treatment.
Even when all the other kitties are gone, Dexter is sure to be found lurking somewhere around my house. Maybe it's just because I pulled that feather off his nose(it was firmly attached with kitty snot-I told you he had a cold- and took a bit of pulling to get loose). Anyway, I found him crying on my porch the other day in the midst of the worst rainstorm. The food dishes had been soaked and scattered by the wind and Dexter was sitting there waiting for me, soaked as well. If you've never seen a wet crying kitten, you have no idea what pathetic is.
So I felt really bad for him and fed him some special wet food in the garage. I know, as if he weren't wet enough already but trust me, it was a treat he won't forget because the next day he was right at my door when I came out in the morning, crying at me and trying to look as pitiful as possible. That cat's playing me like a fiddle. Under that pathetic ragged kitten exterior lies a Thundercat who knows a sucker when he sees one. Oh well, I used to love that show.
Thundercats, Ho!
So for those of you who actually read this blog, you'll know all about my little cat colony I have living under my fern ridden house. For those who don't or don't remember, I had a pregnant female move in recently and had to go through the arduous task of getting her and her five children fixed so they wouldn't start multiplying like trebbles(tribbles? I don't know). Anyway, they've stuck around and are finally getting friendly and allowing me to pet them...while they eat. So I decided to try naming one.
The one I chose to name was of course the rattiest of the bunch(I have a thing for misfits). He's a black cat with yellow eyes who cries when he sees his mother. He also caught a cold recently with all the bad weather and has had a rather bad run of it.
So I looked at this cat and thought, he's a beautiful yet creepy guy with Mommy issues. I'll name him Dexter. and in the way of all male cats, he seems to know that he's been named and assumes this means that he's also been claimed and therefore entitled to special treatment.
Even when all the other kitties are gone, Dexter is sure to be found lurking somewhere around my house. Maybe it's just because I pulled that feather off his nose(it was firmly attached with kitty snot-I told you he had a cold- and took a bit of pulling to get loose). Anyway, I found him crying on my porch the other day in the midst of the worst rainstorm. The food dishes had been soaked and scattered by the wind and Dexter was sitting there waiting for me, soaked as well. If you've never seen a wet crying kitten, you have no idea what pathetic is.
So I felt really bad for him and fed him some special wet food in the garage. I know, as if he weren't wet enough already but trust me, it was a treat he won't forget because the next day he was right at my door when I came out in the morning, crying at me and trying to look as pitiful as possible. That cat's playing me like a fiddle. Under that pathetic ragged kitten exterior lies a Thundercat who knows a sucker when he sees one. Oh well, I used to love that show.
Thundercats, Ho!
Hell Night
So here in Hawaii we have two nights out of the year when it's acceptable for people to set off firecrackers: New Year's Eve and the Fourth of July. Of these two, New Year's Eve is the worst. Stemming from a Chinese tradition of scaring away the evil spirits before the new year, locals out here traditionally set off enough fireworks, firecrackers, and bombs that it feels like a war zone.
I call this Hell Night.
My house is an island of tense silence amidst a sea of raucous idiots shooting off enough firecrackers to fill the streets with smoke and bombs that literally shake my house. Every year there are horrible accidents, people's pets run away, and homes catch fire. The state has tried to control the amount of fireworks individuals set off but people buy them on the black market anyway.
So my New Year's Eve was spent at home trying to comfort my cats and keep them at home. We have two indoor cats: Sebastian and Dominic, and five outdoor: Dexter, Trevor, Nigel, Luna, and their mother who was a wild cat that came to give birth under our house, so we just call her Mama. Sebastian and Dominic hid inside so well it took me over a half an hour to find them while Dexter, the only outdoor cat I was able to get inside, cried the entire time. The rest of them spent the night running around the property trying to find good hiding spots.
When midnight comes the worst hits and firecrackers and bombs go off for(this year) a solid half an hour. Last year it was three hours of straight bombs and firecrackers so I guess I should be thankful it was better this year.
I'm happy to report that we survived Hell Night and in the morning, all the little outdoor kitties came out from hiding no worse for wear.
No one is ever as happy to see the new year as I am.
I call this Hell Night.
My house is an island of tense silence amidst a sea of raucous idiots shooting off enough firecrackers to fill the streets with smoke and bombs that literally shake my house. Every year there are horrible accidents, people's pets run away, and homes catch fire. The state has tried to control the amount of fireworks individuals set off but people buy them on the black market anyway.
So my New Year's Eve was spent at home trying to comfort my cats and keep them at home. We have two indoor cats: Sebastian and Dominic, and five outdoor: Dexter, Trevor, Nigel, Luna, and their mother who was a wild cat that came to give birth under our house, so we just call her Mama. Sebastian and Dominic hid inside so well it took me over a half an hour to find them while Dexter, the only outdoor cat I was able to get inside, cried the entire time. The rest of them spent the night running around the property trying to find good hiding spots.
When midnight comes the worst hits and firecrackers and bombs go off for(this year) a solid half an hour. Last year it was three hours of straight bombs and firecrackers so I guess I should be thankful it was better this year.
I'm happy to report that we survived Hell Night and in the morning, all the little outdoor kitties came out from hiding no worse for wear.
No one is ever as happy to see the new year as I am.
