Tag Archives: everyone needs their mama

The Truth About Fight Club and the Curse of the Mama

Oliver has HUGE gashes over each eye this week. One is actually kind of deep and I’m keeping an eye on it to make sure we don’t have a doctor visit in our future. He also has a cut on his eyelid. That one I saw happen.

Oliver was scratching the bald spot over his eye with his back foot. In case you’re new to this blog, Oliver’s back claws don’t retract. Some times he forgets this. Like…often. So he’s scratching away at that itchy cut over his eye and misses; he kicks himself in the eye.

There was blood. There was tears. There was a grey kitten who didn’t really want me to pry open his eye to look at his cornea.

It was fine.

So…that answers the question about Fight Club. Which, if you’ve seen the movie, you’ve suspected all along.

***

Not only was I cruel to Oliver, forcing him to take my medical care, I also cursed Obi this weekend. As if I’m not mean enough to him already.

The Boy and I were in the kitchen and Obi was laying on the floor showing us how cute he is. The cloth bag we get our co-op veggies from had fallen off its hook and was on the floor. Obi leapt at it and missed the opening so he was hiding behind it. I helped for two seconds by propping the opening of the bag so it was more open.

As I left the kitchen to go take a shower I mentioned that we should probably not encourage him to play with our cloth bag. After all, he could accidentally turn it  into a Super Man cape and strangle himself. The Boy agreed, but they were playing when I left.

I can’t find the blog about the time Obi accidentally made a cape out of a plastic grocery bag and made four laps around the house in a panic before hiding under the bed in my office where I was able to liberate him – from a bag that was, by that time, full of kitten pee. He’s still terrified of plastic bags.

Well, as if I’d cursed him, it took Obi about half a minute after I left the room to get caught up in the fabric bag. This one he wore under his body so he wasn’t able to get up much speed and actually liberated himself before The Boy caught up to him.

Obi still wanted me to hold him and kiss his ears while The Boy told me of his harrowing experience. The brown kitten looked up at me, a little unsure about whether I could be responsible. It is hard to decide what to do when you don’t know if you can trust the mama. After all, I make it all better.

Well, I at least hang up the bag.

***

Happy birthday to my dad! Kitten Thunder performed a super nap in your honor this afternoon.

Cling On, Cats. Not to be confused with Klingon Cats.

I’m pretty sure this is one of only a few funny parts of HOP:
     Easter Bunny: The EGG of DESTINY can only be wielded by a bunny.
     Evil Chick: Look, I’m wielding it. I’m wielding it AGAIN!

The Boy wielded the magic toy making stick this evening and produced two flat leopard skin mousies, the teddy bear mouse, a milk ring, and $3 toy designed to act like a milk rink, a squeaky ball…and enough cat hair to knit ourselves a kitten. Obi was very excited. Then he was overstimulated. He ended up piling them all together so he could just lay on them.

Then The Boy threw them all over the living room. Obi went back to playing with the tiny fuzzy that has been out all week. It’s about the size of a dime but don’t underestimate it. That fuzzy is wily. It requires vertical pounces of at least a foot and a half (while fluttering your feet like a ballerina, for some reason).

"Any minute, a tuna will come by and I will pounce. What does a tuna look like, anyway?"

The world of Facebook confirms that cats from everywhere have been especially clingy this week. Kitten Thunder was no exception. When I sat, someone sat with me. On me. By my head on the back of the couch. With their wet nose in my ear. Or up against my nose for some EYE CONTACT.

When I went down to my work bench there was Thunder. But small scale Thunder that never went where they couldn’t see me. For a while, they were gone. Then I glanced into the spare room and saw the reflection of eyes watching from the bed. At one point Oliver came walking purposefully to where I sat in the banana chair, climbed into my lap and about broke my nose with the hug-headbutt he delivered. The Boy came down shortly after to make sure I’d been found – Oli had been upstairs wailing because I was lost.

For the past few nights, shortly after lights out, Oliver has started the “where did everyone go? Why am I alone?” cry on the main floor. I usually break down and call him. And remind him we’re where we are EVERY night. The ecstatic purr I get when he finds me just adds to how ridiculous this is.

Last night there was no yowling. Because Obi and Oli followed me upstairs to read.

And now? I left two cats on the love seat in the living room when I came in to blog. Obi is in the condo. He’s looking the other way, but I can feel him watching me with his flipped around ears. And Oli has moved four feet so he can see me by putting his head on the armrest of the couch.

I guess I should be grateful for the attention. I’ll miss it some day when Kitten Thunder doesn’t need their mama.

**A side note: Did you know the world’s largest bar made of solid jade is in Medicine Bow, Wyoming? SO smelling a road trip this weekend!

**A second side note: Since I said the word “Klingon” in my title I really wanted to say “Obi hates zebra cows” in that language. Why? Well, because it would be funny. And because Obi kept throwing a little plastic cow – don’t ask ME why he has stripes – off The Boy’s workbench this weekend. No translator will tell me how to say “Obi hates zebra cows.” So instead, I give you what he said to me when I paused in my metal working to tell him to get off The Boy’s bench: “mupwI’ yI’uchtaH!”

Spell check? Thinks I misspelled that.