Cats are gross.

I warned you.

I got home tonight and took a deep breath. Ooh, did I miss a litter box cleaning? Why yes, yes I did forget to clean the litter box on Tuesday while I was sick and having to sit at my desk fighting Adobe over software. Stinky. And someone left me a gift outside the box to indicate their displeasure about my tardiness.

So I cleaned it.

Oliver came up to great me with goopy allergy eyes. He feels better but his eyes still get runny.

So I cleaned them.

I plunked down on the couch just in time to look into the dining room and see Obi vomiting. And walking. And vomiting. And walking. And vomiting. Then, to mix things up, he walked backward while vomiting.

So I cleaned it up.

Oliver, my poor put-down upon grey kitten, also has chin acne. He thinks it feels wonderful to have me scratch it with my fingernails. But then I have kitten zits under my fingernails.

So I cleaned them.

Finally, I sat down on the couch again. A grey kitten snuggled into my lap and looked up at me with the ultimate purr face. A brown kitten started kneading the couch behind my head. Then he bent low enough to give me a kitty-kiss on the temple before settling in for a nap. One brown paw rested gently on my shoulder.

Cats are awesome. And so worth it.

***

It’s Thunder Thursday! Today we bring you a kitten from across the pond. Kitalpha belongs to Holly of The Aluminium Foiled My Plans. Don’t worry about the mouse in the video. He wins.

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The Cats of Out

Lori, of Thunder sitting fame, has a boarder. A cat named Goblin that came to live with her while his people were in Europe. Have I mentioned that Lori is full of awesome sauce? But, tomorrow, Goblin and his people are headed to Florida on a plane.

I won’t even go into how bad I think a plane ride with a cat would be.

Lori and Goblin’s relationship started out a little rocky. He talks. A lot. She has a dog. But eventually they got used to each other and Lori taught him a whole bunch of new habits like eating junk food (I can’t remember if it was dry or canned food he didn’t eat when he got here) and going out.

A couple weeks ago, when I was in charge of Goblin sitting, I was warned about his new habit of bringing…offerings. Kristin, Lori’s roommate, mentioned that mice often showed up at Lori’s door. And, while Lori was away, Goblin had brought Kristin…well…squirrel bits. A bit here. A bit there. A bloody head at her door.

I wasn’t particularly looking forward to cleaning up bits. As it happened, I never saw Goblin that weekend. He was eating the food I left him but mostly he stayed outside enjoying the finally warm weather. A with no one to bring offerings, there were none to clean up.

Sensing, I think, that his time with Lori was drawing to an end, Goblin brought the ultimate gift this morning: a magic bunny.

She heard something under the couch and – since she is NOT a fan of squirrels – enlisted her nephew to help her. She roused him from a deep possible-only-as-a-teenager type slumber. Together, they lifted the couch and found the bunny huddled in the back corner.

Lori turned her back for just a second to keep Goblin from getting the rabbit. Her nephew never looked away. And yet, the bunny disappeared. In a blink of a bleary 18-year-old’s eye.

“Maybe he was a magic bunny.”

Unfortunately, magic bunnies get caught if they don’t magic themselves out of the house. Goblin found him in the office a little while later. No worries! Lori rescued the rabbit and set him free.

And Goblin spent the day locked inside to make sure he catches his plane tomorrow.

Bon voyage, Gobbles.

As I was contemplating this post, it reminded me of a night a couple months ago. The Boy and I were walking home from downtown. As we neared our house, we saw a big ol’ raccoon lumbering down the sidewalk. He got to the corner we were walking toward and gave us a look before disappearing down the drain in the gutter.

I’ve seen this happen before. Actually, I’ve seen this with a much bigger raccoon that kicked in the air when his belly got stuck in the drain and he had to suck in to get the rest of the way down. But on this particular night, what followed the raccoon was most interesting.

A little orange tabby was strolling behind the raccoon to make sure it left his territory. Not chasing, just quietly intimidating.

The cat walked up to the corner, looked down in the grate, then turned and strolled back from where he’d come. He paused just long enough to give us a look. “No worries, folks, the neighborhood is clear.”

Now, do you think his Girl ever wakes up to a raccoon at her bedroom door?

The Mouse on My Desk, the Mouse in My House

The Boy has gone to Indianapolis. I have so much attention from Kitten Thunder it’s almost annoying. Right now, Obi is rolling on his back on the desk. Under the monitor shelf. There goes a pencil. And a pen. And a CD. Plus, there’s a big furry tail on my keyboard.

As I was typing the last paragraph, Obi sat up and started swatting at my mouse. He is horribly affronted by my “no!” as I placed the mouse in my lap.

In other news, Mr. Bear made it out to the living room last night but tonight when I got home he was back in the hall. I can only assume he saw whatever show he needed to see on TV and is working his way back to the office.

This week in the blogoverse, Aluminum Foiled My Plans had a post about her cat and a mouse. And so, the story of Poco, Oli and the mouse:

As I’ve said before, Oliver had to be bottle fed when he first came to live with Poco and I. Since moving to Cheyenne Poco had become an indoor cat but I let her go “out” in the garage. One morning I let her “out” and sat down on the couch with Oliver and his bottle.

A few minutes into his feeding, Poco walked into the living room and came straight to us. She gave us a look like, “well, if he’s staying we mights as well see what the kid’s got.” Then she dropped a mouse at my feet.

**We break in to this story to talk briefly about the mice of Wyoming. Evidently, elsewhere, mice are huge. Here they are about the same size as a toy mousie and very cute. Not that that makes it okay for your cat to bring one into the living room. Back to the story.**

I had a kitten and a bottle and I was struggling to get them set down so I could deal with the mouse situation. Poco knew the look on my face and grabbed the mouse before I could take away her prize. I snatched her up and carried her out onto my front sidewalk.

There, we did the shake. Not much to explain really, I leaned over so Po was almost on the ground while growling, “drop it. DROP it. Drop IT.” She growled back and held on. But eventually the mouse fell to the ground. I am a very persistent shaker – Stoney and I used to argue for hours about whether he was going to eat a bird or whether I was going to take the carcass to my art professor for extra credit. I reeeeally like getting A’s.

The mouse, a little soggy from his ride in a kitten mouth, opened an eye. He twitched his whiskers. One arm moved. His tail flicked. After several minutes it seemed to dawn on him that – against all odds – he was alive. Alive! And then he was off, down the driveway and across the street.

This is when I realized I was standing in the middle of my front yard in a strappy little satin nighty.

Stupid cat.