Semper Felidae

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I asked Obi to snuggle with me because Oliver was missing during the Super Bowl. He told me to dream on.

I called Oliver. I called and called.

The grey kitten arrived in the fourth quarter but did not snuggle. He joined his brother under the coffee table.

After the game, as we were all in the kitchen, the truth came out: we may live in Bronco Country but they were rooting for the cats. Genus before region, you see.

Can’t fault them for that.

Snow Day Snapshots

I didn’t get a snow day. Neither did The Boy. But nine inches of snow did shift our schedules a bit.

For instance, The Boy got up, fed the cats, saw they had a delayed start at work and can’t back to bed. Then I got up to see if I had to go to jury duty at 8 a.m. This made Oliver happy because The Boy’s half of the bed is where the grey kitten sleeps after breakfast on Tuesday when The Boy gets up early to go to the gym. Couch snuggle for the win.

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Jury duty was delayed until noon. I have myself half an hour to drive the one and a half miles to the courthouse. I made it…twenty feet. I spent my half hour digging my car out of the alley by the house where it got high centered on snow. Kitten Thunder doesn’t approve of me leaving the house but at least I made them some interesting OutTV. I still made it to the courthouse only five minutes late.

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There are many people looking forward to the baby kicking my cats in the head. I’m giving you all the benefit of the doubt. I’m assuming you, like The Boy, think their reaction will be funny and that you don’t just hate my kittens. Well, the baby is trying. This morning he kicked Oliver in the face for ten solid minutes. Tonight he kicked Obi in the armpit. Alas, baby is not strong enough to be felt on the outside quite yet. But I know he’s trying.

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I’m proud of myself for this, but I can’t really explain why. While wielding the magic toy making stick this weekend, I found a lid to a shoebox under the couch. The wheels in my head, they turned.

Of course I put a box under the coffee table.

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Of course it’s Obi’s favorite place ever.

Steaking His Claim

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Poor Oliver, he has no legs.

He was trying to help. Help himself to The Boy’s dinner, but help.

Now he’s in trouble.

Not a lot of trouble. It’s kind of hard to punish him more than not letting him lick the plates when he wasn’t going to be allowed to lock the plates anyway.

But woe is Oliver anyway.

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Kitten Tested

We’ve got tough decisions to make here in the Thunder household. Like: which of these bedspreads do we like better?

Of course I don’t make these decisions on my own. The Boy couldn’t care less. But Kitten Thunder has opinions.

I bought both and brought them home to compare to the rug and other fabrics.  And for the kittehs’ opinions.

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Obviously they choose this one. The other one is wrapped in plastic. How are they supposed to get hair on it?

I also choose that one, it happens.

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Obi’s glad… Even hours later.

Why Did the Funky Chicken Climb the Stairs?

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What’s it to you? Why do you care if he’s upstairs or down? I mean really, isn’t that between him and Obi?

National Obi Day

The brown kitten declared that today is National Obi Day. As with all the holidays he declares for himself, he was disappointed in the participation. It was not, however, as disappointing as The Day of Obi when The Boy went to work instead of rubbing bellies all day.

It helps to have your holiday on the weekend if you can’t get congress behind you.

Here are three snapshots of the day, to show you how Obi celebrated.

1. Obi carried his beige yarn ball into the living room. He set it down in the rug. He made eye contact with me and batted the ball under the couch.

At first I thought he was playing with yarn balls again. Then I realized I’d put that yarn ball in Obi’s supervising box in The Boy’s office.

Unacceptable.

2. Obi got up from his nap on a blanky on the loveseat and stretched. He walked across the loveseat onto the end table. He hopped up onto the mantle and walked across. He leapt to the arm of the couch. He walked up me, climbed past my shoulders and up into the bookshelf. He jumped to the arm of the recliner, then hopped to the back of the chair.

He stretched out for a nap.

I looked at him. He looked at me.

“The floor is made of lava?” I asked. Indeed. The kitten closed his eyes. Indeed.

3. The Boy is, in terms of social media, a lurker. By that I mean he is on Facebook daily but rarely posts anything. No worries, I post enough for both of us.

Today’s post, I have to say, is a winner.

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First, because that shelf fix was brilliant and is also #GirlApproved. But also, look at that brown kitten just letting him take a picture! All in the line of work when you’re doing Man Stuff with your Boy, I guess.

So there you have it. Obi has also had many belly rubs. And I stood near him long enough to roll the catnip ball back to him three times this morning. And there will be treats at dinner time.

So, all in all, a pretty good National Obi Day.

We’ll work on a parade for next year.

How the Cookie Crumbles

Want to know the quickest way to annoy a brown kitten? Bake cookies using instructions that are WAY off so you have to check them every two minutes… Just as Obi is settling onto your lap. Repeat five times.

Then don’t share your cookies.

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Then sit down for good when his brother is there to sweep in and claim the lap.

Dude.