Monthly Archives: September 2013

Grey Photos


The Boy is cooking salmon. I want salmon.


Girl, tell The Boy to give me salmon. He says I can have some if I take it out of your share.


I’m so sleepy, Girl. Why are we at the desk? At least your scarf makes a good pillow.


Aah, the couch is much better.

Talk to the Tail

I’ve mentioned in the past that Obi’s tail has a mind of its own. This week, The Boy and I have been getting on Tail’s last nerve.

First, as I was scritching Obi’s back, Tail was trying to knock things off the coffee table. I caught the box of bandaids as it tumbled off the table and set it back up. And the brush. And a pen. Insulted, Tail asked Obi to stomp off in a huff.

Later, The Boy was brushing Obi. The Boy brushed Tail. Tail does not like to be brushed. The brown kitten got his belly brushed, but then Tail asked him to stomp off in a huff.

At lunchtime today, Obi was napping on the back of the loveseat while I was reading on the couch. The Boy came in and sat on the loveseat. “Why aren’t you snuggling with The Girl,” he asked, “after you’ve been so neglected all morning?” The Boy had already told me that the brown kitten was severely neglected – having only been belly rubbed, and brushed, and gotten and tall all morning. I told him we were hanging out in the living room together. So that was enough.

But The Boy continued to sit on the loveseat. Obi went back to sleep but Tail remained awake. And irritated. He flicked. He slapped himself down on the cushion. He twitched and slapped again.

Finally, The Boy got the hint. Or, at least, he left to go play golf.

And Tail slept.


Hawk Eyed


Oliver has a bag. This is his new favorite place to lay and a spot for which he has forsaken the post-breakfast snuggle. Once in a while Obi comes in to remind him that Tail knocked the bag off the coffee table, so Tail’s attached kitten should be allowed to lay on the bag. The grey kitten sees the reason in this…but he doesn’t get off the bag.


This week, we have two new programs on OutTV. First off, there is a little black kitteh wandering around. He looks pretty healthy so he obviously belongs to someone. But he is claiming a lot of territory in the neighborhood.

Yesterday, Black Kitteh had a squirrel up a light post. The squirrel was hanging out about ten feet off the ground, trash talking the kitten. Eventually the kitten gave up and walked away. Except he didn’t give up. He hid around the corner and waited for the squirrel to come down. Unfortunately for him, the squirrel (and I) was not fooled. The squirrel came down the pole and crossed the street to our house. Obi and I watched as Black Kitteh chased the squirrel from one channel of OutTV to the next and the next until they were on the Jeff Channel.

Obi doesn’t go outside but he did not want another kitten in his Out.

The more exciting programming is a sharp-shinned hawk that has moved into the neighborhood. She is very talkative and, though we hardly see her, we hear her cry all the time.

Yesterday, Obi was napping on the back of the couch while I worked. He was enjoying some Smell-O-Vision from the Jeff Channel and he was stretched out very flat. As flat, I thought, as he could get.

Until the hawk swooped down between our house and Jeff’s house and screamed just outside our window. She was so close I could hear her wings. The hair stood on the back of my neck.

And the cat? Got flatter.

Superior Supervision


A square flat box on a pillow under the recumbent bike? Could there possibly be a better place for supervising The Girl’s workout?

No. Nope. Not a chance.


The Boy and I went to the pet store on Saturday night because we’re wild party animals. And because Oliver’s ears were icky. They don’t bother him, but I can’t ignore the ear wax and I touch it. Then I have to wash my hands because ew.

Of course we looked and the mice and birds and ferrets and lizards and snakes and spiders. I have confirmed that geckos and gerbils are creepy little creatures; they can not be trusted. Ew.

This time we looked at the fish as well. Red-finned sharks aren’t in style anymore, I guess. But all the other tetra-type fish I had as a kid were there.

Then we went to the kitty care aisle. As I read the package of ear wipes I started to laugh. The Boy looked at me. “Bond with your pet through grooming,” I read.

Then I moved on to the ear cleanser and laughed again. Look from The Boy. “I’m supposed to ‘allow’ my cat to shake his head when I put this is his ears.”

As if I could stop him. The second I put the drops in Oliver’s ears, he shook his head. Cleanser went everywhere. Luckily it smells really good. And enough stayed in his ears that the cleansing pads worked really well.

Today, my grey kitten has clean, pink on the insides ears.

And suspicions about my intentions whenever I approach him.