Monthly Archives: July 2012

Double standards

Last week, when my family was in town, Oliver and Obi were up to their usual behavior. With the whole family witnessing it, Obi was standing with all four feet on Oliver and gnawing on him.

Oliver made purr face.

Obi chewed and chewed. He bit down and yanked. He licked. Then he bit again. My family was in pain just watching it.

Oliver made purr face.

Finally, I asked Obi to stop because it was bothering the people. He plunked down next to Oli and washed his ears. What ev.

***

This afternoon, Oli and Obi were in the condo. The beginnings of a thunder started to show…a poke, a jab to the eye, teeth shown. Then Oliver bit Obi.

Obi cried and looked at me.

The brown kitten got up and started stomping in a circle. Oliver bit him on the leg.

Cry. Look.

Obi jumped onto the window sill. Oliver leaned over the condo wall and bit at Obi’s ear. He missed.

Obi cried anyway.

Finally, I asked Oli to stop because he was bothering the person. Obi plunked back down in the condo and the thunder turned into a bath.

***

Obi has sneezles this week. He has big streaks of 20 or 30 sneezes right in a row. Poor kitten. Hopefully when he feels better he will let his brother chew on him.

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The Oli-mpics

Friday was Kitten Thunder’s birthdays. Oliver, whose birthday we know for certain was July 27, turned nine. And Obi, whose records gave a best guess at July 27, turned three. This is further proof that Obi was put on this planet to be with Oliver – he was a birthday present that just took eight months to deliver.

Of course, the whole world celebrated their birthdays with a big ceremony. I have no explanation for why they held it in London. Weird. Oliver feels bad that they haven’t changed the name of the event to include Obi; it could be the O-lympics or the OliandObimpics. But we understand that they’ve been planning this party since before Obi was born, so maybe it was too late to change the letterhead.

In addition to Friday’s big show – where some jerk named Bob seemed set on insulting every country that showed up – there are games! Games for like ten days! Obi has enjoyed some of them. Tennis, swimming, soccer and volleyball are interactive if you are a brown kitten. But there are others where he lays down and takes a nap.

We humbly suggest some new games for the next Oli-mpics:

Triple floor jump
Marathon snuggle
Sprint snuggle
Synchronized snuggle
Speed bathing
The deCAThalon
Fuzzy board
Condo climbing
Fence watching

Also, The Girl has been working on a project that we think would work quite well for those medals they give out.

And, if we might suggest one more change…

The winners should get to nap on that top tier.

The Missing Oliver

I had a root canal today. It was delightful. It actually wasn’t that bad considering what they are doing to your mouth during the process. But I’m not one to mess around with medical treatment so I had my crown fitted today as well.

That means five injections to keep my mouth numb. Having a numb face, for some reason, makes me groggy. I’ve pretty much been ready for a nap since I woke up this morning. At last, at 3 p.m., it was time.

I called for the cats. Obi came for a real, actual snuggle.

No Oliver.

I woke up a while later and called the grey kitten. No Oliver.

The Boy came home from work. Oliver appeared to check out our dinner. After dinner I laid back down and called for Oli. No Oliver.

I have hardly seen Oliver since my family left Cheyenne. I know exactly why. Almost the second they left town, the heat wave broke. It has been in the 80s for two days. And Oliver? He has some quality time to make up on the upstairs cat shelf.

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I don’t know why he’s straddling a pillow.

***

It’s Thunder Thursday! Here is the newest addition to Kelly’s family. A polydactyl tortie who hasn’t been named yet. Any suggestions? 

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The Three Days of Lexi

So, as I mentioned in a very quick blog post on Sunday, my parents and niece were in town for Cheyenne Frontier Days. First, I’ll share with you what happens when you ask Kitten Thunder to make up their bed for Grandpa:

“Trust us, the nest is way more comfortable than having the sheets flat like you insist on.”

I did eventually make the bed myself. Oliver was less than pleased.

It was super hot while everyone was here but that didn’t stop us from doing lots of things. We walked. We visited the botanic gardens. We petting zooed. We rodeoed. We went to a park. We saw a parade. We went on a horse-drawn carriage. We ate a whole bunch of processed sugar. We drank water like it was going out of style because sweat was pouring down our backs like a waterfall.

And Lexi played with the cats.

Aside from believing that Obi is a girl and that his name is Odie, Lexi got along well with the brown kitten. They played with a bunch of toys. He supervised her closely. It gave him something to focus on other than the horrible sounds of Cheyenne Frontier Days – fireworks, canons, concerts, etc.

And Oliver finally got his pets. It turns out that Lexi thought he was complaining when he meowed at her and that’s why she would suddenly leave. The other cats in her life meow when they have had enough. So the answer was simply to explain that he is making conversation with her. And to assure her that Oliver doesn’t bite.

That, and I gave him a pill for his allergies – a little bit of the talking was to tell her his eyes were itchy and his nose was stuffed up.

The family left this afternoon and recovery has begun. It started with a nap under the ceiling fan. Then, to counteract the processed sugar, we had chard and beets for dinner and I met my friend Sarah for a fruit smoothie. Tonight, those of us that remain will move back into the guest room in the basement. I predict sound sleeping by all.

Tomorrow we will suffer a minor setback when I finish off the doughnuts. But we’ll have a salad for lunch.

And, while we do very much love when the family comes to visit us, tomorrow we will enjoy a simpler pleasure. We will sit, the two cats and I, at the desk. Inside. Cooled by a fan. And we will not walk. Or rodeo. Or drink water like it is going out of style.

But there will be ear kisses for all.

***

I made the mistake of telling Obi we needed to blog tonight. He beat me to the office. And the chair.

“My chair.”

The Lexi Treatment

My parents, and my niece Lexi, are here for Cheyenne Frontier Days. Kitten Thunder is relieved to find out that company is the reason for the recent cleaning. They like company.

Lexi is interesting.

Obi thinks her toys are cool. She has a little plastic hermit crab that walks around on the floor. And her bag is full of neat stuff. Plus it smells like Cousin Puck.

Oliver agrees about the bag, but Lexi confuses him. She runs up to him and puts her hand on his head. He thinks she’s going to pet him and turns his face in anticipation.  But then she runs away. He watches her run away. He in disappointed and confounded.

They’ve only been here for a couple hours. More to come on Tuesday…

I Didn’t Miss You

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I was across the state for a couple days. This is Oliver showing me that he didn’t miss me at all. I’ve been home for two hours, though, and my evening workout has been interrupted by a grey snuggler.

He’s letting me blog while he washes my forearms.

Obi was more open about missing me. And Zensai? He missed me so much his ears fell out.

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***

It’s Thunder Thursday! Here’s a picture of Cousin Spade.  He doesn’t know why I’m taking his picture. Doesn’t everyone nap laying across two chairs?

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Caption the Kitteh

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A. “I’ve had such a hard day.”

B. Feline Heat Index indicates wilting hot.

C. This stretch is great for the abs.

Please add your own!

The Chairy Go Round

Since I started working at home I have been looking for a new chair for my office. The one I had, an adorable paisley director’s chair, cut off the circulation in my legs after the first couple hours. For a couple months I’ve been using one of our dining room chairs. Unpadded. Uncomfortable.

The problem is that really cheap chairs are still really expensive for my fledgling business. And spending a lot of money on a cheap chair doesn’t make sense to me. So, when my friend Brittany posted on Facebook that she had an office chair for sale, I scooted right over to her house and picked it up.

I got it into the car okay. And, truth be told, I probably could have gotten it into the house with a lot of struggle and looking foolish. Instead, I waited for The Boy to come home and move it for me. In just three years with The Boy I have totally gotten over the need to prove that, as a girl, I can do anything a man can do. I mean, yes, I can if I have to and I did EVERYTHING for the ten years I owned my house. But if I can make the same thing happen by asking him…

Anyway, the chair came in with hardly any struggle and landed in the hallway. Obi was on it in a flash. He LOVED the chair. He marked both arms, the back, all four corners of the seat and along the back with chin rubs. Then he did it again.

Oliver wanted to love the chair, but Obi wouldn’t let him up. Every time he put his front feet on the chair Obi would smack him. “My chair.” And this turned out to be super cute and I wish I’d had my camera ready. Whenever Oli would put his feet up and Obi would smack him…

The chair would turn.

They turned it and turned it and turned it for about five minutes before Oliver finally gave up. Then The Boy and I stepped in and spun the chair faster. Obi was perfectly happy, riding his chair and spinning.

After about ten minutes we decided to stop fooling around and moved the chair into the office. There is a rug under my desk so The Boy had to lift the chair – and its brown kitten – up high enough to clear the desk and not snag the rug. Obi was perfectly happy, riding his chair and flying.

Then I ruined it all. I was doing Thursday night’s blog when The Boy came home and I had to finish it. I picked Obi up and sat him in my lap,  but that was not nearly as good. He sat on the desk and glared at me until I finished up and got out of his chair.

I don’t have to regret not having the camera ready on Thursday to show you the glare. He’s glaring at me right now.

“My chair.”

Rubbed the wrong way

The new office situation, with the kitty condo right next to the plentiful surface area of my desk, has advantages and disadvantages.

The Disadvantage:

Oh, the stationary Thunder we had today. Oliver had possession of the condo. Obi was laying on the desk. They were both happy with this situation. But that doesn’t mean a brothery situation won’t occur.

Poke. Poke poke. “I’m not touching you.”

Poke. THWAP! “I’m not touching you either.”

And then it was on. Obi stood up to get better thwapping leverage. He and Oli thwapped and thwapped and thwapped. But if a cat is standing on his back legs to thwap with his front legs, he needs his tail for balance.

Thwap. Tail swing. Computer mouse goes flying. Thwap. Tail swing. Pens roll to the floor. Thwap…tail swing…

The Advantage:

Later on, Obi was laying in the condo. Oliver came in and jumped into the nest on top – he somehow manages to land without squishing Obi. Immediately, Obi grabs Oli’s leg and wrestles him down into napping position. And the bathing begins.

First Obi washed Oli’s face. Then he reached up and yanked Oliver’s head lower so he could do a thorough cleaning of the grey ears. And I do mean thorough. Obi probably knows if Oli’s brain tastes like pudding.

Then it was Oliver’s turn. He licked all of Obi’s hair against the grain so it was standing straight up. This is hilarious. Until it dries that way and someone has to brush the brown hair back down.

Then they put their heads down together and took turns washing the four front paws that jutted out from beneath their chins.

Super cute. Super worth the “disadvantage.”

***

The Boy just came home and helped me bring a new office chair in from my car. I wish I’d had the video camera out. More on that later – it’s late.

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It’s Thunder Thursday! Last June I introduced you to Annabelle. Here she is, a year later, showing the world her refined fashion sense.

Fashion isn’t about comfort or fit, it is about style.

You STILL do not talk about Fight Club

About a year ago I posted the rules to Thunder Fight Club. It must be a summer thing because it seems to be on again. At least we assume that’s what is going on – the kittehs are sticklers for rules 1 and 2.

Oliver’s bald spots both have cuts. One of them had healed and was quickly replaced with another. When I kiss them and ask how he got the cuts he walks away. You do not talk about Fight Club.

I asked Obi if he knew what had happened to his brother’s sweet face. Obi walked away.

You DO NOT talk about Fight Club.

***

My computer is back! More importantly, the box is back. There are now two boxes in the living room. Whichever one Oliver is in? That’s the one Obi wants.

***

Sleeping in the basement continues to be awesome. Yesterday the alarm clock went off and…

Wait for it…

Woke. Oliver. Up.

Awesome.