Monthly Archives: June 2016

OutTV: Legs

There’s special programming on OutTV this week. I thought it should be called Stucco Guys. Oliver says “Legs” says it all.

Unfortunately, we are not getting our money’s worth out of this programming. I mean, sure, there’s new beautiful stucco going up. But as far as entertainment value goes…

Obi gives it one and a half “Meh”s.

Squeak gives no cares at all.

Oliver found it interesting from a technical side – it’s in surround sound and on almost every channel – but since it doesn’t incorporate smell-o-vision, he quickly lost interest.

Besides, the plot is kind of repetitive.


Yo Mama!

Hello, peoples of the internet. Oliver here.

As you know, My Girl and The Boy brought us a people-kitten. We’ve named him Squeak. The people call him something else, but Squeak makes more sense – it’s what he does!

Squeak has been home for a little over a week and it’s been an adjustment. For one thing, he lays in my spot on My Girl a lot. A LOT. So that’s annoying. But My Girl is weird and squishy feeling so I’m not enjoying laying on her as much as I used to anyway.

And we’re learning to share.


And My Girl always makes a point of finding me for some special time when Squeak is in his room.


I’ll admit, though, that Obi and I did not have a great couple of days when Squeak first arrived.

For one thing, My Girl was gone for three days to go get him. The Boy kept coming home to feed us, at least, I didn’t have any snuggles.

Then she came home and set Squeak down in his carrier. Obi and I walked up to check him out. I gave the customary greeting for a stranger – I hissed once.

Then things got bad.

Squeak… Yowled.

Obi jumped back and yelled “yo mama!” Okay, that’s NOT what Obi yelled. But My Girl says we don’t cuss online. So let’s say that’s what he said.

The thing is this: I have a zero tolerance policy about that kind of language. So Obi needed to be beaten to a pulp.

My Girl took Squeak into his room while The Boy put me in the basement. And he closed the door which is totally rude because I HATE CLOSED DOORS. Obi and I discussed things under the door. I told him and people-kittens. He apologized for his language.

A while later The Boy let me upstairs. I met Obi in the dining room. “Yo mama,” he mumbled under his breath as he crouched low.

“Excuse me?” I said. The Boy came in and I knew we were going to get in trouble. But the language.

“Yo. Mama.”

And the butt kicking commenced. This time Obi was put in the basement. And we talked, under the door.

Obi has issues. You maybe remember the civil war, a war between brothers, that happened last year. I was protecting our house from something outside our window and accidentally hurt Obi. That’s when the cussing started. He can’t help himself. It just comes out when he gets nervous.

I understand this. But zero tolerance is zero tolerance for a reason.

The people got him something from Dr. Tiffany to help him with the cussing so I wouldn’t have to kill him anymore. We took turns being upstairs with Squeak. The Boy hung out a lot with Obi in the basement. And My Girl and I took naps down there while The Boy took care of Squeak.

Finally, when his anti cussing juice was working, Obi and I were allowed to be together. He washed my ears. Then I walked him into Squeak’s room, where My Girl was sitting on the bed. We looked at Squeak through the bars of his cage.

We agreed: it was a big fuss over something so little.


Human kitten

Guys, there’s a baby. And a homecoming story.

But not today.

Today there is this:


And that’s all we’ll say for now.


Oliver hates when we ask him to use his manners.


Especially if they have to be his GOOD manners.

Snug as a Bug


Kitten Thunder has checked all the baby equipment. This is by far the best tested item.

We may very well have to buy one for the baby when he gets here.

The Lost Toys

On Friday we had our house cleaned by professionals. After they left, Obi led me from room to room for inspection.

He was not pleased.

They had moved things. And he found every single instance where they hadn’t put things back exactly right.

Like his bunny watching station in the living room. Oliver’s stuffed animals collection was piled on the chest instead of lined up against the wall. How’s a kitten supposed to live like this!?!

They put the double decker box facing the front door instead of the living room. How’s a kitten supposed to ambush his brother under these conditions?!?

And there were toys IN the nest on the condo so clearly no napping will ever be done there ever again.

And, in case you were wondering, he doesn’t appreciate the faint mocking tone with which I addressed his concerns.

As the weekend has gone on, Obi is slightly less affronted by Friday’s events.

Because, this:


These toys have not seen the light of day for months. I have no idea where they were.

At first, Obi felt it was wrong for us to bring in a ringer for the Hide and Go Seek the Toys competition. I mean, anyone can find the toys if you’re going to move furniture and stuff.

But then he saw grey flat mousie. He loves grey flat mousie – it’s the best toy ever. He tossed it in the air a couple times before tucking it under his blanky on the loveseat.

A while later, he noticed pinecone mousie in the pile. He loves pinecone mousie – it’s the best toy ever. He played with it all afternoon. I’m pretty sure it’s lost already, but maybe someplace where we’ll be able to find it.

So, with everything back in its place and all the best toys ever account for, maybe house cleaning isn’t so bad.

It certainly opened up some time for belly rubs.


The Boy and I are.. Slobs. Not that anything in our house is sticky or molding, but we are both relaxed about dust. We are unfazed by clutter.

I have never in my life noticed dusty baseboards unless there is company already in my house.

So, with a baby arriving, I enlisted help. Okay, I paid for professional help.

Mona’s cats, Gabe and Jenni, recommended Cindy to me. And today, Cindy and her friend came over and spent the whole day seeing the crud that The Boy and I just don’t see.

I tried my best to stay out of the way.

Obi supervised. Obi objected strongly to the removal of his minions.

Now, we DO sweep up his minions on a regular basis. But a deep cleaning means moving furniture that we’ve kept in one place for several years. It turns out our house was one good lightning strike away from being overrun by a thousand kitten minions.

Also: cat toys, we have some.

After I returned from an errand and found out how helpful Kitten Thunder had been with the eating of lunch, I suggested the kittehs and I should go upstairs.


Since I’d picked up my own lunch while I was out, they agreed.

And then we napped.



Seriously, my house looks amazing. If your local, call Cindy and give her all your money. It’s worth it.


It must be said: my mother tried, you guys. She tried so hard. It is so very not her fault that I don’t use any of the skills she taught me.


And now, if you’ll excuse us, obi needs to re-hair the house.