And that’s all I have to say about that.
Pardon the abrupt ending. Time to get a better video editing software…
Today we have a short post. It’s Thanksgiving and I have priorities which draw me away from the computer. So I’ve decided to roll the whole post into one point: I am thankful for brothers – my brother, my two fuzzy boys, and brothers in general.
For Thunder Thursday I bring you Oskar and Klaus. Oskar, the little one, was born without eyes. The video of him playing with toys – “seeing” them with his other senses and playing like any sighted cat – is amazing.
But after watching all the videos on their YouTube channel, this is my favorite.
Happy Thanksgiving to all. Even my friends across the pond (any excuse is a good excuse for cranberry sauce!)
Yesterday, I bought Kitten Thunder some funky chicken toys. I picked them up at a store with some Christmas presents and brought that back home, stumbling through the door with my arms full of shopping, the coat I hadn’t put on, my coffee travel mug and a take n bake pizza. The bag was dropped in the dining room and forgotten while I preheated the oven and performed some rubbing of the bellies.
Later, while I was eating, I noticed Oliver in the bag. He WANTS someone’s present. He really loves it. Which reminds me…I should probably put that somewhere kitten proof…
Anywho, it reminded me about the funky chickens. There were two in a package; perfect, right? So I toss one to Oli and he looks at it, confused. I toss the other to Obi who immediately leaps and tackles and bunny kicks the chicken in delight. Deciding his is broken, Oliver went over and took Obi’s.
I tossed the first chicken to Obi and he immediately leaps and tackles and bunny kicks it. Oliver drops his stolen chicken, clearly broken, and takes the first chicken from Obi.
Lather, rinse, repeat until I picked the grey kitten up and took him to the couch for a snuggle. Poor Oliver, he’s never going to figure out this toy thing.
When I went to take a picture of the funky chickens I could only find one. Obi refused to answer me when I asked where it was. “Gee,” his look told me. “I guess you’ll have to check under the couch.”
I got out the magic toy making stick to find the missing chicken. No chicken. What was there? Two flat leopard skin mousies, the teddy bear mousie, one small bamboo rose, one large bamboo rose, one large catnip ball, enough hair to knit a kitten, two little square things I can’t identify and…a very wilted cherry tomato. Very wilted. Eew.
The Boy was out of town this weekend and, while I’d planned to get a lot done while he was gone, Kitten Thunder and I spent most of our time on the couch. In our defense, I didn’t make it home for lunch most days last week. That’s very exhausting for kittens.
Obi really worked on his snuggling skills – he’s getting pretty good and laying with me for minutes at a time. Then he has to go over to the other couch to recover.
This afternoon, wiped out from such hard core snuggling all weekend, Kitten Thunder went upstairs to take a nap. Only when I came into my office to finish up my weekend stuff did Obi come back down to “help.”
In the house:
I was running late. Of course. I found the carrier, pushed Oli inside, and we were off.
In the car:
OHMYGOSH WE ARE GOING TO DIE! I AM NOT GOING TO SURVIVE THIS AND I AM IN A TINY PURPLE BOX ITS LIKE A GIRLY COFFIN AND OHMYGOSHWEAREGOINGTODIE! FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY KEEP YOUR HANDS AT TEN AND TWO. TEN AND TWOOOOOO! WATCH OUT FOR THAT CAR! AND THAT ONE! AND THAT ONE! AND THAT ONE!
Lest you think I exaggerate:
Repeat for ten minutes.
In the lobby:
In the exam room:
Oliver refused to come out of the carrier. He had his picture taken from inside – looking quite handsome for the ordeal. Then I set to work extracting him. This involved pulling his towel out, then holding the carrier in the air, opening down, and shaking it. Like trying to get that last bit of Spaghetti-O out of the can.
If your Spaghetti-O weighs 13 pounds and willfully pushes against gravity.
He came loose just as the doctor came in.
In the back:
Our vet takes pets to the back for the weighing and sticking now. Dr. G says he was very sweet and even promised not to hate her forever when she set him on a piece of cardboard and it shot up to slap him in the face. The girl who checked us out confirmed that he was very charming.
Oliver weighs 13 pounds. He’s a little fluffy in the middle, Dr. G says while patting his belly and earning herself a sideways glance from the grey kitten, but that is okay.
Unable to stall any more, we load up and tell everyone about how loud he is when I am driving.
In the car:
More silence. Then, some more silence.
When we were nearly home I couldn’t stand it any longer. “Oli, do you hate The Mama now?”
One tiny meow: “No.”
I choose to believe he said no.
It’s Thunder Thursday! Today we have Tika, my first cat that I remember. I know we had a Shadow, but Tika is the poor kitty that had to wear doll dresses and such. And, evidently, have little plastic horses ride her while she tried to nap in a drawer.
And yes, that pudge of a girl is me. I was full of adorable.
When Tika was older her belly became huge. She wasn’t a fat cat; if she was walking down the hall she looked quite thin, actually. But if she ran, this giant hanging belly would swing back and forth – my brother and I always wanted to mount some of those big drums over her back to see if her belly would play them.
Tika was a good and patient girl.
As with many things, the methods of Kitten Thunder vary in their snuggling. The following scenarios both take around half an hour. Oliver, though, is capable of two or more hours of intensive snuggling.
Jump on The Girl. Stomp. Stomp stomp. Turn. Crawl under the blanket.
Jump on The Girl. Knead. Knead knead knead. Turn. Knead. Plunk.
Run to the dining room. Look at wall. Return to the couch.
Jump on The Girl. Knead. Head butt The Girl. Plunk.
Run to the hallway. Chirp. Return to the couch.
Jump on The Girl. Plunk. Stand up. Turn. Plunk. Stand up. Plunk.
Stand up. Turn. Turn. Turn. Chirp. Turn. Plunk.
Jump onto the back of the couch. Turn. Knead. Lay down.
Jump on The Girl. Plunk. Purr.
Stand up. Turn. Head butt. Plunk. Purr.
Stand up. Look confused. Wander off.
While the girls were here I found a fantastic deal on a Christmas tree. Obi wants to put it up. NOW. He’s been working on the box all day. And all night. He is, however, taking a break from box chewing and scratching to chew on Oliver while I blog. A kitten has to have priorities.
On Friday, the Thunder household welcomed aunts and grandmas for a weekend of shopping. We didn’t know how Oli and Obi would react to these guests – my mom, sister, aunt and grandma. I think we were pleasantly surprised.
First, Oliver was immediately and ridiculously fond of my aunt. As soon as they were in the house he was scratching at her shoes and loving up to her. Clearly there’s something about her. Maybe he knows that her brother kittens are why he has a brother. That’s certainly a good reason to be grateful to her.
My grandma stayed in my office and had a lot of one-on-one time with Obi. Whenever she would get up in the night she would return to find a brown kitten on her pillow. He tried to win her over with his cuteness – and she would have shared – but she insisted on putting her head back on that pillow.
My sister says no one visited her in the night as she slept on the evil couch. I bet they did. I bet she was observed…from a distance. It is easier to watch someone when you have other couches from which to look.
My mom had a kitten foot sleeper in the night. Obi also appreciated her suitcase on his spot on the floor. It was way more comfortable than just wood. Can we get his a box to put there? With clothes on it?
To further secure their place in Kitten Thunder’s hearts, there was much eating and feeding in the morning. No one had to talk The Girl into breakfast – by the time I got up they ‘d had breakfast and a snack.
Alas, the weekend had to come to a close. Everyone got back on the roads home this afternoon.
Obi has been napping on his bed in my office with visions of grandmas with scritchy fingers dancing in his head. Oliver and I? We headed straight to the couch to take our Saturday and Sunday afternoon naps.
Gah. The Wyoming weather is demonstrating why we don’t plan frivolous travel in November. My sister, we are happy to say, made it home safely. Grandma, Barb and my mom are stuck on the side of the road waiting for blowing snow to settle down. Good luck thoughts and prayers to them tonight…LOTS of good thoughts.
Obi was helping me put away the pile of laundry that tends to grow on the guest bed between visitors. When I opened the door to my sweater closet he followed me in. I looked down at him, sniffing at the shoes on the floor, and wondered if he remembered that the ceiling to this closet is open.
Surely, by now, he has forgotten how to climb the wall to get to the opening between the main floor and the basement ceiling. Surely I can go get more sweaters before he gets up there.
You would think I’d stop believing any of my thoughts that begin with “surely.”
I arrived back at the closet just as Obi reached the top of the rungs to the ceiling. The only reason I caught him in time is that he climbed the wrong side of the closet.
His punishment? Kisses on the head and a hug.
The Boy will be out of town on his birthday so we celebrated his unbirthday yesterday. The Boy got a new toaster oven – I am nothing if not romantic. Kitten Thunder got a big bag and some bright blue tissue paper.
I fully intended to clip the handles on the bag before I left the room. But surely they would be okay while we were sitting right there.
Have I mentioned the luck I have with “surely”?
In a sudden flurry of flying fur and paper, the evil gift bag chased Obi out of the living room. He escaped in the hallway.
The bag’s punishment? It is torn almost in half and its handles are clipped. Obi has forgiven it.
This morning, while I was upstairs brushing my teeth, I noticed Oliver giving laser beam eyes of hatred to…The Boy’s duffle bag. How dare it be out? How dare it be packed?!?
The duffle’s punishment? None. It escaped just in time.
It’s Thunder Thursday! Today we introduce the fuzzies of Alice, The Boy’s sister. She has had the adorable Oliver, handsome dog, for a while. And Oliver’s new associate is Eliot. Alice says he likes the nip…but it looks a lot like he’s a beer man.
First, a pumpkin update. At Kelly’s urging, I went out to turn the pumpkin so Ms. Squirrel could reach more of the rind. But when I got to the porch I found that she had finally broken through to the middle. And she likes pumpkin seeds. A lot.
I’ve mentioned that the women of my family are coming this weekend for shopping. I’ve been trying to clean. What WILL be cleaned up before they get here? Shoemageddon.
Some of those are The Boy’s shoes. It’s NOT just me.
What will NOT be thrown away, as planned, by the time the girls get here? Paper Playland. It is just too cute.
We’ll at least move it out of the hallway. Maybe there’s a nice box somewhere…