I Could Pee On This: A Book Review by Obi

The Girl came home from her trip with The Boy with many presents. First, boxes. So many boxes!

And tissue paper!

And, because my people are weirdly obsessed by them, the book things. Many, many book things. Including one that I read today, “I Could Pee on This: And Other Poems by Cats.” I have to say…cats are AMAZING poets. Take, for instance, this one:

Some of my favorites – poems of love, devotion and the humiliation that us cats have to deal with – have been turned into a video. These cats can EMOTE.

 

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Christmas Cruelty

Dear bloggypeople,

Once again, I write to you – or dictate to The Girl who is typing this because “I can’t spell” – to report the most grievous behavior from my people. My Girl and The Boy left Obi and I alone, without food or water, for A YEAR.

At first, things were okay. After packing up the car with our boxes and most of our wrapping paper, The Girl gave us a bonus breakfast. But, while we were eating, they LEFT. For WEEKS.

The Lori came to feed us at first. She’s pretty good at the scritching and feeding so we thought we would be okay. And if she shows up we know that The Girl will probably come back soon. But she didn’t come back. And then, after weeks of helping us scrape by, The Lori also stopped coming.

We were doomed.

The straights, they were dire.

The kitty crunchies, despite our rationing, were creeping down below the level of the top of the bowl. The water bowl was only half full. Days stretched into weeks. Weeks stretched into months. Obi and I would soon perish, we were certain.

Plus, somehow, the litter box got fuller and fuller.

Finally, today, The Boy and The Girl returned. The Girl insisted on picking me up and kissing my ears before she fed us. Luckily, she carried me to the plates so I wouldn’t have to walk on my own in my weakened state. Obi was carried in by The Boy who had foolishly tried to rub his empty belly.

Who needs an empty belly rubbed?

I’d forgiven The Girl, a little bit (she’ll need to be punished later, after I’ve had some snuggles). Then I see THIS.

This isn’t me!!! The Girl has some picture of a guy named Nama on her phone! And then…THIS!

The Boy let some other cat RIDE him. WHO THE PFFT IS MADDY!?! So not okay.

I’m so mad, I’m off to lick my tail vigorously on the other side of the room. Maybe the next time, The Girl will think twice before she wanders off for a year to cheat on us with other cats.

Please, if you see The Girl out and about – should we ever allow her out or about again – glare at her pointedly and tell her that this type of behavior is unacceptable.

Sincerely,
Oliver Pi
Chief Executive Kitten

***Note from The Girl: We were gone for five days and Lori, bestest kitteh sitter in the world, came to see them every day except yesterday (Christmas) and today, because we came back today. And I like them to be hungry when we get home so we can bribe them with breakfast.

A Very Merry Christmas

The Boy and I were in Rock Springs this weekend for Christmas, parts 1 and 2. Cousin Gracie got what she wanted – a tower of boxes on which to sit and be gorgeous in front of the tree.

“Merry freaking Christmas.”

And Cousin Spade got what he wanted – two more people to play with him.

“You suspect nothing.”

 

How to Wrap Presents

Step 1. Open The Boy’s closet and encourage the kittens to take a nap inside.

Step 2. Casually walk downstairs like you’re not going to do anything interesting.

Step 3. Go ahead and turn on the camera – you know steps 1 and 2 are fruitless, right?

Step 4. Consult the brown kitten as you choose a paper.

Step 5. Ask the grey kitten about the paper when he runs the brown kitten off.

Step 6. Lay out paper to judge size according to the package being wrapped.

Step 7. Move the grey kitten off the paper, onto the shelf under the window.

 Step 8. Watch, helplessly, as the grey kitten tries to step back on the table but puts his foot on paper that does not have table underneath it. Watch him fall, slamming his chin on the table edge on his way down.

Step 9. Drop everything and scoop the grey kitten into your arms. Check for injury. Walk around the house with him in your arms for 20 minutes while his world stops spinning.

Step 10. Decide to blow of wrapping for a while.

Step 11. Return, after dinner, to wrapping.

Step 12. Allow the brown kitten to “curl” some ribbon.

***

Oliver is fine. We finished wrapping presents and snuggled up on the couch. Purr therapy works both ways.

 

Reveille at Camp Couch

I caught a cold last week and have been staying at Camp Couch since Saturday. I have mostly been alone; Oliver has decided that sleeping in the empty spot in my bed is much more comfortable. He’s come down to check on me, of course. And I think Obi has been sleeping on the loveseat.

So it isn’t like I’ve been alone or unsupervised.

Especially in the morning. On Monday, I needed to get up at 4 a.m. for drugs. Me playing with a foil package in the kitchen inspired the pitter patter of eight little feet. If I was up and getting a treat for myself, I might as well give them a little something something, right?

At 6 a.m., when The Boy got up, I heard them earnestly telling him that they needed breakfast. I lacked the will to move the ten feet to the kitchen to contradict them. I lacked the will to raise my head and see if I had a voice to say otherwise.

Kitten Thunder got a second breakfast.

The Boy kind of knew that and confirmed with me when he brought my coffee. But, by then, Oliver was laying with me – dutifully applying purr therapy – and no one felt like scolding him. Purr therapy is hungry work.

This morning, I woke to the familiar feel of a kitten paw poking me in the nose. I opened my eyes to see a grey kitten sitting on the floor by the couch, nose to nose with me. I lifted the blanket to see if he wanted to snuggle. His ears when flat. No.

I lowered the blanket and closed my eyes. Poke. PokePoke. Mew. PokePokePokeMewPoke. I opened my eyes. Mew.

“It isn’t time yet,” I said.

But, just as a well-aimed poke went UP my nose, the breakfast bell went off. A satisfied grey kitten turned and walked expectantly out of the living room.

I guess it was time to muster in the kitchen after all.

***

I’m feeling much better after two days of barely leaving Camp Couch. I’m packing up and moving back upstairs tonight.

Purr Therapy Sunday

I have the plague. Or a cold. I had to work all day yesterday, followed by The Boy’s work Christmas party, so I had already declared that I’d be sleeping until noon.

That didn’t quite work out since Kitten Thunder saw the dread black cat in the driveway at 10 a.m. I got up to help The Boy talk them down.

Then I moved the condo into the dining room.

Oliver has spent much of the day administering purr therapy.

 

After dinner, which The Boy went a got when he went to the grocery store for me – above and beyond the call of duty, I say – Obi decided to administer some preventative therapy on The Boy.

 

 

WAR!

Once again, I am perplexed by the kittens. I guess Obi needed to charge something yesterday. But, by the time he got to the hallway, he must have realized that whatever he was charging wasn’t an Apple product.

***

On Tuesday, the weather changed in Cheyenne. We are now enjoying temperatures near freezing rather than below zero. The change, as always, was ushered in by big wind. BIG wind. Like 62 mph here in town wind.

So, when The Boy was leaving for work and noticed our trash and recycling bins trying to escape down the alley, he put them in the driveway. The recycling bin ended up under my office window.

No problem.

At first.

Then, as I was typing away on the couch yesterday afternoon, Oliver started screaming. It was a weird, “I need help” type scream. I was up and into my office in moments. And I found…

Oliver looking out the window.

And Obi looking out the window.

At first they looked totally normal and I was irritated by the scream for help. Then I went up to the window and touched Oliver on the back. He leaped into the air and screamed. He bumped Obi who leaped into the air and screamed. The both puffed up and hissed at me. At each other. At the window.

And out in the driveway I noticed the black cat that kept fighting other cats out there this summer. I’m thinking he had jumped up on the recycling bin and looked in the window at my sleeping kitties.

So I moved the recycling bin. Problem solved.

EXCEPT, just now as I was writing this, it happened again. Oliver screamed. I ran into the office to find Oli and Obi in a full on battle on the floor. I risked life and limb to separate them. The black cat was in the driveway. My guess is that Oliver woke up, saw the black kitten, and started puffing up and screaming. And Obi woke up fighting, thinking he was being attacked. So Oliver fought back.

Now that things have calmed down, Oliver is trying to apologize to his brother. Obi is TICKED OFF.  As I held Obi, Oliver came up to us and licked Obi’s ears. Obi smacked him and stormed off into the living room.

He’ll wash himself, thankyouverymuch.

 

 

Sneak TV

I used to be physically addicted to the television show Scarecrow & Mrs. King. Seriously addicted – it was on three times a day and I would watch it all three times even though it was the same episode two of those times and the third time was only one episode ahead. I know it was an addiction because I would go through withdrawal and actually get itchy for it on the weekend when it didn’t air.

One day, my mom called down to the basement and asked me to turn on the oven at a certain time. No problem. Except I forgot. My mom was so mad, she grounded me from television for a week.

I had a problem with this for two reasons:
1. I forgot because I was painting Christmas ornaments, NOT because the television happened to be on.
2. HELLO! I was going to miss 15 episodes of Scarecrow!!!

But I did not.

Partly because my mom almost immediately started coming up with reasons for me to watch TV; I could watch TV in the morning because that’s not when I was watching when I got in trouble. So that’s one episode per day that I could watch.

Again, I should point out that the SAME episode was airing three times in one 24-hour period.

Not enough.

At 5 and 9 p.m., I sneaked across the hallway from my room and into my parents room where I would watch Scarecrow, on mute, from two inches away.

And what, you ask, does this have to do with Kitten Thunder?

Well…

Obi is a kitten after my own heart.

Hand Off

The Boy and I went to the book store this afternoon. On our way back, we picked up some food from the grocery store. And when we got home, of course, Obi needed a belly rub.

As I was finishing the unloading of groceries, The Boy came into the kitchen with a gotten kitten. Obi likes when he is gotten – it makes him tall and he tries to get The Boy to go see interesting things while he is tall.

This time, though, The Boy wanted to cook dinner. He asked the brown kitten if he would get down. As I put some items on the stairs to the bedroom I said, “or you could wait for just a sec and we’ll do a hand off.”

Obi said he was not interested in a hand off. No no no no.

But he was, in fact, handed over to me and The Boy started cooking. Once Obi knew what a hand off was, he was actually okay with it. Only slightly less tall, he had a good vantage for dinner making.

After dinner, Obi jumped into The Boy’s lap. He sat there for an entire hour, looking very happy. Even Tail was happy…ish. Unfortunately for the comfortable brown kitten, The Boy doesn’t sit still for very long. Watching one program from start to finish without any side activity was as much as he could take.

He attempted a hand off.

Obi was not interested.

No no no no no.

There’s Nothing on TV

Right this moment in Cheyenne it is eight degrees below zero. Even by Wyoming standards, that’s a wee bit chilly. In fact, a bunch of people have looked it up and we’re colder than many places in Alaska this week.

Aside from the five hours I had to walk around the downtown area in a blizzard (on Tuesday) and in below zero temperatures (Wednesday), I’ve been blissfully enjoying a career that involves my house, the couch, a blanket and a cat. And a computer, of course.

This morning, though, I realized that the furnace had been running for a while. Like, since I got up. And before that. And, more importantly, I was still shivering under my blanket.

Looking around at my bright, sunny house I realized that drastic measures had to be taken in light of the frigid temperatures. Everyone was going to have to make some sacrifices for the good of the house. Unfortunately…

We were going to have to turn off OutTV.

I went from room to room, dropping our blinds all the way to the bottom sill of each window. At first Obi was interested in what i was doing. Then he realized my intentions and was horrified.

He raced me from one window to the next. “I’m watching this channel!” But I turned it off. To the next window. “This is my favorite program!” Off.

All the programming isn’t off. I didn’t have the heart to turn the OutTV all the way off by the kitty condo. I pulled the drapes nearly closed and dropped the blinds down except for about four inches at the bottom. On, but turned way down. Also, the blinds are broken in the front window so I couldn’t turn OutTV off.

Though without dogs walking, runners running, squirrels scampering or birds hopping…there’s nothing good on OutTV anyway.