Man’s Work

It is still raining. You’ve probably seen on the news about Colorado, this is one of those times that I’m happy that “the other square state” isn’t getting national attention. We’re getting all the rain and much less flooding. So we’re free to send our focus, our support and our troops and firemen to our friends to the south.

But we’re sick of the rain.

While we are expecting warmer weather to return, nine days without sun has gotten us thinking about winter. A second blanket has come out so we can keep the window open at night. Kitten Thunder is back to sleeping with us all night – Obi sleeps elsewhere all summer.

And The Boy decided to take some measures to see if my office can be slightly warmer than the North Pole this winter. Kitten Thunder had been catching up on television shows we missed this week, but then they heard noises in the basement.

Man stuff.

Both kittens went down to supervise The Boy. He came up briefly for something or another and verified that is where they were. He told me he was taking the humidifier off our furnace. This could be leaking a lot of warm air that should be going upstairs.

There was clunking and banging and the sound of sawing.

Man noises.

Then I heard The Boy’s voice from directly below the couch – traveling through the ductwork. “Obi!”

I grabbed the camera in case there was something that needed to be blogged going on. Oliver met me at the bottom of the stairs to tattle. He had a big story to tell. As I turned the corner from the stairs, The Boy turned the corner from the train room.

“Obi,” he said. “Is in the furnace ducts.” The Boy was gesturing at the ceiling. “I don’t know if he can’t get out or if he just doesn’t want to.”

I strolled into the utility room. Camera forgotten. There was my brown kitten, staring at me from the furnace. “How did you get up there?” I asked Obi, he was well above eye level.

Climbed. Obviously.

I reached for him and couldn’t find anything to grab before he backed away. He came back to the opening and I reached again. He backed away. I stuck my head in, looking straight down into the dark cavern of furnace. He came back to the opening to look with me.

Maybe he did need help. He let me grab him.

The Boy needed things from Home Depot and headed off on his second trip to the store. He closed the utility door behind us as I carried the brown kitten upstairs.

Obi decided to help me with my afternoon project – knitting a scarf with pockets at the end, just in case the temperatures are still polar in my office.

Mom stuff.

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The Missing Oliver

I had a root canal today. It was delightful. It actually wasn’t that bad considering what they are doing to your mouth during the process. But I’m not one to mess around with medical treatment so I had my crown fitted today as well.

That means five injections to keep my mouth numb. Having a numb face, for some reason, makes me groggy. I’ve pretty much been ready for a nap since I woke up this morning. At last, at 3 p.m., it was time.

I called for the cats. Obi came for a real, actual snuggle.

No Oliver.

I woke up a while later and called the grey kitten. No Oliver.

The Boy came home from work. Oliver appeared to check out our dinner. After dinner I laid back down and called for Oli. No Oliver.

I have hardly seen Oliver since my family left Cheyenne. I know exactly why. Almost the second they left town, the heat wave broke. It has been in the 80s for two days. And Oliver? He has some quality time to make up on the upstairs cat shelf.

I don’t know why he’s straddling a pillow.

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It’s Thunder Thursday! Here is the newest addition to Kelly’s family. A polydactyl tortie who hasn’t been named yet. Any suggestions? 

The Three Days of Lexi

So, as I mentioned in a very quick blog post on Sunday, my parents and niece were in town for Cheyenne Frontier Days. First, I’ll share with you what happens when you ask Kitten Thunder to make up their bed for Grandpa:

“Trust us, the nest is way more comfortable than having the sheets flat like you insist on.”

I did eventually make the bed myself. Oliver was less than pleased.

It was super hot while everyone was here but that didn’t stop us from doing lots of things. We walked. We visited the botanic gardens. We petting zooed. We rodeoed. We went to a park. We saw a parade. We went on a horse-drawn carriage. We ate a whole bunch of processed sugar. We drank water like it was going out of style because sweat was pouring down our backs like a waterfall.

And Lexi played with the cats.

Aside from believing that Obi is a girl and that his name is Odie, Lexi got along well with the brown kitten. They played with a bunch of toys. He supervised her closely. It gave him something to focus on other than the horrible sounds of Cheyenne Frontier Days – fireworks, canons, concerts, etc.

And Oliver finally got his pets. It turns out that Lexi thought he was complaining when he meowed at her and that’s why she would suddenly leave. The other cats in her life meow when they have had enough. So the answer was simply to explain that he is making conversation with her. And to assure her that Oliver doesn’t bite.

That, and I gave him a pill for his allergies – a little bit of the talking was to tell her his eyes were itchy and his nose was stuffed up.

The family left this afternoon and recovery has begun. It started with a nap under the ceiling fan. Then, to counteract the processed sugar, we had chard and beets for dinner and I met my friend Sarah for a fruit smoothie. Tonight, those of us that remain will move back into the guest room in the basement. I predict sound sleeping by all.

Tomorrow we will suffer a minor setback when I finish off the doughnuts. But we’ll have a salad for lunch.

And, while we do very much love when the family comes to visit us, tomorrow we will enjoy a simpler pleasure. We will sit, the two cats and I, at the desk. Inside. Cooled by a fan. And we will not walk. Or rodeo. Or drink water like it is going out of style.

But there will be ear kisses for all.

***

I made the mistake of telling Obi we needed to blog tonight. He beat me to the office. And the chair.

“My chair.”

Oh, how he suffers.

The Boy is gone on a trip right now. It has been 36 hours since Obi has had a proper belly rubbing. And, oh, how he suffers.

And thus, how we all suffer.

This morning Oliver and I were laying on the couch like we always do in the morning. About the time The Boy should have been making my coffee, Obi walked to the middle of the room and plopped down.

“ME!” He yelled.

You see, usually my coffee delivery is postponed because Obi convinces The Boy it is time for the belly rub. Obi runs out to the rug and gets into position, belly exposed, and The Boy comes in and works his magic. They pet and roll and brush and purr. Then I get my coffee.

This morning there was no Boy. There was also no coffee but you don’t see me throwing myself to the ground in a tizzy, now do you? Of course…how would you know if I had? But I DIDN’T.

I’ve done my best to fill in. The problem is that I am The Girl. And The Girl is good for playing and comforting. Those are my jobs. So when I rub the belly it turns into The Claw with biting and scratching and kicking (and kisses to assure me that we’re still playing).

We did manage to get one brush full of hair removed from his coat. We feel pretty good about that.

Tomorrow, though, The Boy will be coming home to three happy mammals. Obi will get his belly rubber back. I will no longer be in charge of the belly rubbing. And Oliver’s snuggles will not be interrupted again.

Zensai, as always, really couldn’t be convinced to care less.

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It’s Thunder Thursday! On Tuesday, Cousin Puck’s girl sent me a picture of her poor, miserable fuzzy. Puck is a prime example of Feline Heat Index: Too Hot.

"Set the A/C on frosty, please."