Tag Archives: kitten

Conundrum

When I last posted, we were wondering what poor Obi would do about belly rubs now that the quilt is off the floor. At lunch time he had tried to talk The Boy into going into the fort with him.

That didn’t happen.

So what did the brown kitten do for his after work belly rub? Did he…

A) Do a belly flop onto the fort to collapse the whole thing?

B) Decide to get his belly rub on the quilt, now wadded up in a pile on the couch?

C) Decide that a piece of brown packing paper on the other side of the room was the proper place for belly rubbing.

D) Try really hard to find belly rubs on the basement carpet satisfying.

The answer is…E) all of the above.

Tuesday was a horrible night for Obi as he tried desperately to get a decent belly rub. None of these options worked for him. Two days later there is still no solution.

To make matters worse, he REALLY likes the fort. He plays in it all day.

Life is so hard for an abused brown kitten.

I suggested, while The Boy and Obi were trying to complete a morning belly rub today, that maybe he should just get his belly rubbed right there on the rug where it used to happen. Obi glared at me and walked away.

The Boy pointed out that Obi has never liked this rug. It was the old rug that was the belly rubbing rug.

Oh.

Poor abused brown kitten. The Boy giveth and The Girl taketh away.

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Interested

The Boy has a dresser that had moved around with him since he was a child. It was, possibly, his dad’s before that. As a child he chose to have it painted bright red.

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I didn’t want it to be red anymore.

I’ve been painting the dresser a little at a time for a couple weeks. Out in the garage. As you know, Kitten Thunder did not approve.

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I’m not quite done painting but the snow storm inspired me to close up painting operations in the garage so my car could sleep inside. With a 7 a.m. meeting, I was not interested in risking an inch of ice on the windshield.

So the bench that I bought lady week came in. Oliver stood in the way and I had to yell at him to move.

He was interested.

Then I brought in the dresser and tried to put the drawers in. Oliver wanted to supervise from inside.

He was interested.

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Then I wanted to take a picture with him with the finished dresser and bench. I set him on the bench. Nope. The dresser? Nope.

He wasn’t interested.

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I did manage to get photos of Oliver on the bench by Obi’s favorite OutTV Channel.

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Obi sharing the channel with his brother? Not interested.

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In case you’re interested, the handles of the dresser are faucet handles. There are two more for the top drawer. And I think we’ll get the more so we can put one in the middle – they look a little awkward to me with only two. We just need to find a store with a different design.

Teach Me, Obi Wan

Every time I make the bed in my office, it gets unmade. A brown kitten burrows and shoves and digs until the sheets are piled in the middle. It is mostly annoying.

But this? This is impressive.

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Obi wrapped himself up in the blankets; this is what we called a burrito baby when I was a kid.

Oh, wise Obi Wan Kittenobi, tell me the ways of The Force…

Nothing But, Lizard Butt

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Hey, Zensai, what are you doing in there?

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Nothing. Leave me alone.

Paper Playland

I thought  the blog tonight would be about wrapping presents. I had a “how to” planned with the joys of kitten interference.  Clever observations about hairy tape were planned. But, as always, Kitten Thunder refuses to perform according to MY script. Oliver and Obi dutifully accompanied me to the basement for wrapping. But after sniffing the tape and finding out I wouldn’t let them run the scissors, they decided Paper Playland was way more fun.

Sorry, I know it is Thunder Thursday but it is also very late because I’ve been fighting with my new computer and I want to go to bed. And it’s my blog, so I’m gonna.

A letter from Kitten Thunder

Dear grandpeople,

We have come to realize, after watching The Girl and The Boy steadily clean the house, that you are coming to visit. While we’re happy to have you here, please excuse the people from any more cleaning. We do not like it.

The Girl has been putting away the clothing that makes our comfy downstairs napping spot on what she calls “the spare room bed.” We find her justification – that you’ll need someplace to sleep – to be suspect. We have at least twenty other places in the house that you can sleep. Have you ever considered the window sill in the reading nook? The sunbeam on the floor in the kitchen?

The Boy’s actions are even worse. All summer we’ve been pushing out extra fur and forming it into clumps which we’ve stored in the corners, along walls and on the staircase. We were so close. Just one bolt of life-giving lightning and we would have had a complete set of minions. Obi is ready to move into management. How are we supposed to move him up without minions? Sometimes people just don’t think.

And now, a word about breakfast. We don’t like to complain, but The Girl doesn’t feed us. And worse, she’s done a good job of convincing The Boy that she does. So while you are here, please feel free to open as many cans of cat food as you’d like. When she does feed us, The Girl gives us two cans each.

And one in the afternoon.

And some tuna at midnight.

Please don’t feel like you need to tell The Girl when you have fed us. She’s accustomed to us fending for ourselves.

Sincerely,
Your grandkittens,
Kitten Thunder

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Thunder Thursday! This is my friend Jacob’s new kitten, Duc.

"I'm cute, therefore I am."

Before You Meet Kitten Thunder at BlogHer…

The whole social world is abuzz with talk of the BlogHer Conference which begins on Thursday. People are talking about what they are wearing and what newbies should know and what weird eccentricities others should expect. But, as much as it pains me, we are not going to BlogHer. And this is why:

1. Oliver and Obi are BOYS. It is not BlogHim.

2. Oliver and Obi are CATS.

3. As much as you folks seem to like it – “kitten nudists” is the number one search term for bringing readers to this blog – conferences look down on attendees parading around naked. I can’t even get Oliver to wear a necklace so clothes are probably out of the question.

4. Driving the six blocks to the airport with Oliver screaming his fool head off would fray my nerves. Flying with him all the way to San Diego would not only irritate my nerves to raw but would probably inspire the pilot to find a nice mountain to run into or a lake or something, anything, to stop the yowling.

5. Obi is too cute. Hundreds of girls oohing and aahing would be too much to bear. Not to mention he’d have to be held.

6. Obi sees no reason to open the blog to professional business practices. We have plenty of tuna, so clearly things are fine. Oliver says we could have more tuna, but couldn’t I just figure this all out with the box of light and the clicky board?

7. Twenty five pounds of fuzzy doesn’t fit comfortably in the carry on suitcase.

8. Four days is an awfully long time to go without a proper belly rubbing. We’d have to take The Boy with us. He has another trip planned.

9. Have I mentioned this tiny life issue involving two houses, a car, several roofs and checks spread all over the country with various denominations and ETAs? Crazy and crabby is NOT the first impression I’d like to give to the greater blogging world.

Next year, BlogHer, I will be there.

Kitten Thunder will stay home. Nude.