Tag Archives: entertaining

Thunder House Rules

Next week, The Boy is leaving us to go play on a steam train. While The Boy’s away, The Girl has decided to invite the women of my family to Cheyenne to play. And to get our Christmas shopping done.

My aunt, Barb, asked if Oliver would snuggle with her. After all, her cats have always been very good hosts to me. The Boy and I agree that things could go either way.

To prepare our four house guests, Kitten Thunder has put together a list of rules:

1. Don’t sleep on the roof. Okay, that’s from Cider House Rules, but it is a good rule. Especially since there’s six inches of snow up there.

2. You must rub Obi’s belly on demand.

3. Obi will decide when there has been enough rubbing of the belly.

4. Don’t try to pick Oliver up – he is long and heavy and his claws don’t retract.

5. If Oliver scratches on your belt, pick him up.

6. Feed the kittens in the morning.

7. Feed the kittens whenever you eat.

8. Feed the kittens whatever you eat.

9. Eat things the kittens will want to eat. The Girl bought some hard salami that the kittens are aggressively fond of, try that.

10. Should a grey kitten visit you in the night, off to let him under the covers.

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Related to nothing: Our real estate agent brought us a pumpkin for Halloween. I thought about carving it, but someone beat me to it. And it has made for excellent OutTV.

Not the most artful carving ever, but it's probably very satisfying.

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Kitten Thunder is playing a game called “let’s chew on each other’s faces” right now. Their heads are soggy.

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It’s Thunder Thursday! Today we have Wilson and Gizmo of Monterey. These brothers are the children of someone who works in my aunt’s office. We agree that this picture makes us want to go home and take a nap. But when is that a bad idea, really?

"Show is over. Change the channel." ---"No, YOU change the channel."

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Post Traumatic Party Syndrome

Yesterday we had a small gathering of friends over to the house. Normally, one might call this a housewarming party but, since we’ve lived here for 53 weeks, the house is already pretty warm. Instead, we chose to celebrate only having one house.

Cleaning the house was enough to make Kitten Thunder nervous. I decided they would be safer and saner if I created Thunder Sanctuary in my office. I got a refill for the pheromone ball. I put in the food and water. I put up a cute sign asking people to ask me if they wanted to meet our fuzzy little celebrities. Then, with 15 minutes to go before guests were supposed to arrive, we locked them in.

I should mention that they both love my office and would normally spend all evening in there anyway.

But not THIS evening. First Oliver cried. Then Obi cried. Then Oliver cried. Then Obi cried. Then someone threw someone against the door. Then Oliver cried.

“Hey guys? After you set me on the bed someone accidentally shut the door on their way out. We’re locked in!”

Oliver yowled at the door for three hours. Except when we were out in the driveway and he yowled at us from the window. And once when he yowled so loudly through the heat vent that I thought he’d somehow gotten upstairs where I was giving a tour.

Obi, I think, would have taken a nap after the first three times we ignored his request to come out.

I was sitting on the front porch with a couple people and I glanced through the window and saw the hook of a grey tail go by. The Boy had decided to try and calm Oliver down. He was not anticipating that Kitten Thunder would rush the door.

Since things were slowing down, we just let them stay out. Oliver pounced on me the second I sat down and purred on my lap – eyeing anyone that came near to make sure they knew that I was HIS girl. Obi plunked down in the middle of the room so he could be seen – but not touched. No touching.

So…would they have been like that all evening? Or would Oliver have panicked and managed to race out the front door and down the street, not stopping until he was too far to find his way back? We’ll never know. But next time, I’m locking them in the room in the basement.

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Why the reference to post traumatic party syndrome, you ask? I have two very clingy kittens today. And I’ve sacrificed a lot of paper towel to the upchuck gods. Oliver can’t figure out why I refused to feed him again.

Right now, Kitten Thunder is snuggled together on the cat shelf. Together they’ll get through this.