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.”

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Exhaust-o-vision

Hello world! Greetings from glorious wet and overcast Wyoming. We have had big rain and cool temperature since Friday afternoon. It is a welcome change.

After a very eventful week, Obi is finally resting.

It started with the 4th of July. At the last minute The Boy and I decided to walk up the street to see the City firework display. We came back to the house to no cats. After a few minutes they appeared from the general direction of the basement. Oliver, surprisingly, was fine. Obi was freaked. FUH-reaked.

For two days he jumped at every sudden sound. He started at anything loud. It’s hard to nap when you’re jumpy.

It’s even harder to nap when you are jumpy and it is way too hot.

At last, it is not too hot. This brings on a whole new level of trouble for a brown kitten. Smell-o-vision is on! Every window is open. The birds are singing with new energy. There are bunnies everywhere.

Obi has been channel surfing at the speed of light. He ran from window to window to window all the way through nap time. It’s caught up to him.

Brown kitten is passed out on the loveseat.

Grey kitten, by the way, has a miller. He did NOT miss our nap.

It is so hot…

How hot is it?

It’s so hot I’ve worked without help of kittens for the past week.

It’s so hot I just started cooking in the kitchen and no one told The Boy to come stop me.

It’s so hot we are all laying under the ceiling fan.

It’s so hot that 85 degrees feels cool.

It’s so hot that this is all the blog I’m going to do tonight. Feel free to add your own “it’s so hot”s in the comment section.

The Passive Aggressive Snuggle of Doom

If you haven’t been distracted by that silly hurricane on the east coast, you are probably aware that it has been super hot across most of the country. Wyoming is no exception. We are already having July temperatures.

We are big fans of fans here in the Thunder household.

Both the ceiling fan, which is conveniently located above the loveseat…and two kittehs. And the fan on my desk, which Obi spent a lot of time in front of yesterday.

The heat has made us a little crabby. On Monday morning, Oliver was doing his normal routine of all things annoying to get me out of bed. Finally, I had had enough.

I grabbed him.

I pulled him in for a snuggle.

I would not let him go.

For the final twenty minutes before my alarm went off I held him against his will. If he backed up, he hit my legs. If he lunged forward he tangled in my arms and got a kiss on the head. I didn’t do anything he wouldn’t normally like if it had been his idea. It was the meanest snuggle ever.

Last night the thought of sleeping upstairs was unbearable. We have moved to the basement. Sooooo much better. Especially in the morning. In order to hear the birds, Kitten Thunder went upstairs before dawn.

It is awful hard to wake The Girl and watch birds at the same time when they are two stories apart. I slept until my alarm woke me up.

Glorious.

Also glorious? It is raining right now. Two kittens and a Girl are leaning into the window, sniffing the wet air and enjoying the cool.

Glorious.

Reunited

Last night, shortly after the lights went out, Oliver and I were having a snuggle when we heard a loud crash. I had been dozing off so I don’t know how loud it actually was.

We both perked our ears to listen.

I heard a tiny mew from Obi. I listened some more. Eventually…another mew. Oliver and I were out of bed and searching for the brown kitten. Okay, I was searching. Oliver was hoping I was going to feed them.

I looked on the top floor. I looked on the main floor. I looked in the basement. No Obi. We went upstairs to check that screens were still on all the windows. Then…another mew.

Obi was found, safe and sound, in The Boy’s shower trying to sweet talk a miller moth. Back to bed with me.

With drama such as this, and the fact that I am cheating on him with three other cats, it is no wonder Oliver has felt unsettled lately. Today he was having a tough time napping. When I was available, he was only able to concentrate on sleeping for ten minutes at a time. And then I did things like kitty sitting and taking a walk that required me to leave the house.

The walk was a bad idea. It was 93 degrees and humid outside. This may be nothing to some of you, but Wyoming has no business being 93 degrees and humid in June. At least, as I type this, we are actually getting some rain. And hail, from the sounds of it.

Anyway, I came into the house after my walk, turned on the ceiling fan and plopped down on the couch. And, at last, Oliver was able to get comfortable for an extended nap.

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.

***

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."

The Feline Heat Index

“Hey.” I sit up in bed. Two kittens, serenading me from the shelf where our toothbrushes are plugged in, stop singing and look over at me. The jump down and run to the bed. Four front paws – two snowy white and two stripey brown – come up on the edge of the bed and two adorable kitten faces pop up behind them.

“Shut.” I say, pointing to Oliver.

“Up.” I say, pointing to Obi.

They look disappointed. I noticed that as I plopped back down to the pillow. But last night was the first night in a week that it had cooled down enough to sleep comfortably. See, in Cheyenne there’s only five days out of the year where you really need air conditioning. And this? This is day eight.

The humans are not pleased. And this morning, Kitten Thunder decided that they wanted to be fed early. Like before it was light out early. And they launched a dedicated, widely varied effort of Girl annoyance.

The kittens are suffering too. They do, after all, have heavy fur coats and it doesn’t much matter if they’re naked underneath.

How do I know they’re uncomfortable? I’m trained to read the Feline Heat Index:

Generally seen in Wyoming winter - October through April - the Cold FHI keeps the core compact for heat conservation.

As temperatures rise, the core of the cat expands both for optimum heat exchange - solar in, hair out.

When the FHI reaches hot, cats will stretch to full length to make it easier for heat to escape. This does not negate their need for a sunbeam.

At too hot FHI levels, your cat's spine will start to pop in the effort to stretch beyond capacity. Be nice and put some ice in the water dish. Ice cream would be lovely, thank you. And - hey! - has that ceiling fan always been there?

As I sat in the living room, dripping, The Boy came in a turned on the ceiling fan. Hey…we have a ceiling fan! Honestly, I’d forgotten. So had Oliver. Over and over and over. And over.

And over.

The first night we had it on he walked into the room and hit the deck. “What is that thing!?!” He jumped up on the couch with me and flinched as he looked up. “What is that thing!?!” He dozed off. Then woke with a start. “What is that thing!?!” He took a bath and stopped in a panic, mid-lick. “What is that thing!?!” He Thundered and was toppled by Obi when he stopped short at the rug. “What is that thing!?!”

Whatever that thing is, it feels great to lay under. Nice breeze. Favorite show on OutRadio. And The Girl is just about to – “What is that thing!?!”