Step Away

This is as close as I’m allowed to get to Obi right now. Any attempt to be closer results in a warning glare. Then he prepares to run.

As you may know, I’m on the Cheyenne Animal Shelter board. We, on occasion, have our picture taken with our pets. Since Obi is my little mellow boy – and a graduate of the shelter – he gets the job.

This is what happened last time.

This time, we were a little smarter with our set up and each board member was scheduled for ten minutes rather than all of us showing up at once. We managed to get scheduled between little dogs.

Other than that “by the gazebo” means something different to every board member, it worked out well. Did you know there are a dozen gazebos in Lions Park?

Val didn’t run screaming when Obi and I got to the photography station. She remembered us, but didn’t seem terribly, permanently scarred by the experience. So we sat on the chair and got the instructions. My job was to sit still and look at the camera with a smile on my face. Val and Niki would get the cat to look at the camera.

Cats, or at least Obi, can not be enticed to look at a camera with squeaky toys, whistling, or kissy noises. But we did manage to get a picture where his face is turned toward the camera. He looked crabby. But he was crabby. We called it good.

Then, as I was standing there talking to them, Obi turned his face to look at Val. And she was ready. The camera snapped. And, miracle upon miracle, my eyes were open.

Obi and I came home.

Obi was mad but willing to be given treats if I set them on the floor and backed away. Oliver wanted to sniff him but Obi didn’t want HIM near him either. Oliver decided to be mad at me as a show of solidarity. I mentioned that if they were dogs they’d be excited to go to the part.

Glare. Do I just NEVER want to be forgiven?

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Sunday Slow Day

When I got up this morning, Obi was bored. BORED. Boooored. I followed him to the belly rubbing rug and gitchy gitchied his belly for a few minutes. Then I rebuilt his cave and arranged the quilt as an annex to the cave.

Then I tossed a bunch of toys that have been sitting on his OutTV watching trunk since Christmas to him. He’s been playing exclusively with Flat Mousie for a while. He forgot about Funky Chicken! He forgot about Laser Mousie! He forgot about Cloth Mousie!

When he was surrounded by toys, I grabbed the phone to take a picture. He promptly got up and his in the cave.

But then Oliver came along. He has no problem having his picture taken.

But the cave monster took issue with his brother playing with HIS toys.

This is a picture of Oli and Obi. After a couple minutes of inter blanket warfare, Oliver left to see if there were snackums in the kitchen.

Obi decided that guarding his toys was more important than guarding himself from the paparazzi.

Drawing the Line

A couple months ago, I bought some organizers for our kitchen cabinet to help with the leaning towers of pots. The organizers went, promptly, into my office. There they sat until last week…when I put the bag in front of the cabinet to inspire action. The Boy was inspired to sweep the kitchen and moved the bag into the breakfast nook. Where it stayed.

But, for some reason, I am inspired to get more done on a Sunday afternoon than the rest of the week combined. I work out. I go to the grocery store. I do dishes. And today I put the organizers in the cupboard. Honestly, I don’t think it helped at all.

But I did learn some things:

1. The Boy will keep anything that is well made, even if we never use it or we’re missing a piece. Turns out, we have a pressure cooker. That doesn’t work.

2. I don’t care enough to throw things away just because I think it is silly that The Boy keeps them*. We still have a nonfunctional pressure cooker.

3. I also noticed that we have the toaster oven, for which I have bought two replacements, stored in a cabinet. It is true that I replaced it mostly because it was ugly. But that one, and the little red one that proved to be more style than function, could really go. Unless someone wants to come over for a toast party. TOAST FOR 15!

3. We also have a strainer that nests into the big pot we make spaghetti with so that all you have to do is lift it out and voila! Strained pasta.

4. Obi will help organize a cupboard.

5. Obi is not particularly helpful when he helps organize a cupboard.

6. The fastest way to get Obi out of the cupboard he is helping to organize is to ask The Boy to hand you your camera.

Kitten gone. Cabinet organized…ish.

Nothing toasted, pressurized or strained in the process.

 

* It is worth noting that I also don’t throw things away. I am working on paring my wardrobe down to one closet (plus the sweater closet, of course). Much of my wardrobe doesn’t fit or is no longer appropriate for my age. Those items conceal items that DO fit and that I SHOULD be wearing. Such as, for example, the jeans I am wearing right now. I found them on Thursday and a) am amazed by how perfectly they fit and b) have no recollection of buying them or owning them in the past.

Lookie Here

I am not photogenic. I have a chin in real life that disappears in photos. I am so pale, my skin is actually translucent – but not in that pretty way that they describe in books. And I am awesomely talented when it comes to making a stupid face or closing one eye just as the shutter clicks.

So when the Cheyenne Animal Shelter signed with Val Rothwell Photography to do our board pictures, I felt really bad for her. As I feel bad for any photographer who has to try to make me look presentable. And then we added Obi.

Val is a trooper.

Before you continue, I want you to go and look at the photos on Val Rothwell Photography. I want you to see the adorable dogs. The cute babies. The beautiful families. She captured them all.

So this is not her fault.

Will Obi look at the camera for me? For Val?

Nope.

Nuh uh.

No way.

Not gonna happen.

NopeNopeNope.

Fine. What? The Girl looks stupid?

By the way, MY eyes were open in all of these until THIS one.

I’m outta here.

This is not okay.

Ta daaaaaaa!

Despite our very best efforts, Val DID manage to get a shot about which I’m not completely mortified. Sure, Obi is in a headlock and I’m wearing a shirt for which I should lose my degree in public relations (seriously, photog101 says that pattern is a no no), but we’re looking toward the camera. Ish.

I’d tell you that you should take all your cats to Val for a portrait, but I heard her confide that every time she donates a pet portrait session to a Cheyenne Animal Shelter fundraiser she prays for a dog owner. So do that. Take your dog.

Your cat isn’t interested anyway.

Over there and under cover

While The Boy and I were standing around, discussing the weekend, Kitten Thunder checked out the progress on the layout. Oliver does not approve of the height of the layout. The chair he uses to get up to it had stuff on it. It took him at least two minutes to find a way up.

Then he had to get down.

We didn’t make him jump. The Boy set him on the floor.

Obi just jumped straight up to the top of the layout. He has no issue with that sort of thing. What he does have an issue with is photographs.

***

It’s Thunder Thursday! I thought we’d check in on Oskar and Klause. In case you don’t remember them, Oskar was born without eyes. He’s on the right in this video. It’s amazing that this game is still interesting to him.