What’s Ridiculous

Oliver was stomping on me after work last night. Since he was never going to make a decision on where to lay, I made it for him. You might think he would object to being knocked over and pulled to my side.

You’d be wrong. He stretched out like this for ten minutes while I rubbed his belly and scritched his armpits. But then I got the camera out.

And he stretched.

And ended with his legs together. Like a gentleman.

Obi thought this was ridiculous. You know what else is ridiculous? The complete lack of millers in this house. We worked at it for an hour and only attracted one to the porch – which I did manage to get inside – and he only lasted for ten minutes.

Ridiculous.

 

 

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Coon Tails

Yesterday I had occasion to look up the traits of Maine Coon cats. Obi, we’ve always thought, has quite a bit of that breed in his mystery lineage. This was confirmed when the very first thing I saw on the web page was a picture of Obi. Well, a cat that looked just like him, anyway.

The description on the page fit him perfectly. He is waterproof. And his cute little chirp, it turns out, is a trait of the breed. They also pointed out that he would be more interested in ground games than climbing. The Boy can throw the flat mousie forever and Obi will bring it back to the rug over and over and over.

They also, the page says, are buddies more than babies. Not big on snuggling, they will hang out with their owners all day but prefer to sit in their own chair. Hence the aura snuggling. And that’s why I had time to read about cats…

…I was getting a very rare lap nap from the brown kitten.

Obi stayed in my lap for over two hours. Trapped by rarity and specialness, I did not reach for my coffee. I did not get up to get food when my belly started rumbling.

Finally, I was set free when Obi’s tail escaped. It wasn’t anywhere on the page I was reading, but Obi has a very precocious tail. If he doesn’t hold it down, it flicks about. It slaps at The Girl. It slaps Obi in the face. It twists and turns in the air. And no one can nap through that.

Today, Obi was back to aura snuggling. And he had a good grip on that tail.

The couch, we lives there

In preparation for the floor guys, I folded all the blankets we have in the living room. The quilt folded and draped on the back of the couch gave Obi a new opportunity. 

Quilt pod monster.

Today, Obi laid across the tops of both of my arms while I worked on the laptop on the couch. He stretched. He purred. He napped. 

For hours.

He’s getting good at this snuggling thing.

But Oliver is still the master.

 

Turnabout

“Oli, come lay with me.”

The grey kitten, sitting on the floor by the couch, looked at me with a steady gaze. I patted my lap. He did that stretch that starts at his front toes, travels up his arms into his shoulders then travels through his eyebrows and out through his ears.

“Come here, Mr. Pi.”

The grey kitten swivelled his head to considered The Boy sitting on the recliner.

“Hey. Bunny.”

The grey kitten licked his tail.

“Ooooooooooliveeeeeeer! Laaaaaaay wiiiiiiiith meeeeeee,” I whined. I patted my lap, now covered by quilt, again.

Oli walked away. Unable to remember where he left me once he arrived in the hallway, he called out.

“Oliver, come here,” I responded.

The grey kitten walked back into the room and sat on the floor by the couch.

“Seriously dude. Get thee into my lap.”

The grey kitten scratched his ear. He looked at me.

I leaned down close.

“Get. Up. Here. And. Lay. With. Your. Girl.”

Finally, Oliver jumped onto my lap and we had a snuggle. If I didn’t know better I’d think he was showing me how it feels to be ignored when he’s trying to get me up for breakfast.

And then he got so carried away with licking my finger than he chomped down on it.

Hard.

Pudding head.

Attack of the Brown Snuggler

Obi has taken to snuggling in the night. With The Boy.

The other night I was having trouble sleeping. Every half hour or so I would wake up to find Oliver laying on my feet and The Boy laying on my arm. I would move over a couple inches and feel the blood rush back into my arm. Oliver would lift his head at my feet shifting under him, but then he’d go back to sleep.

Then I’d doze off.

A half hour later I would wake up to find Oliver laying on my feet and The Boy laying on my arm. Shift. Blood flow. Repeat. Doze. Shift. Blood flow. Repeat.

All night. Except…there’s a finite number of a couple inches for me to shift. Luckily, by the time I fell out of bed I also had to get up to go to the bathroom. When I got up, I discovered that Obi – the smallest member of our family – had taken over more than half the bed.

Me getting up disturbed everybody enough that, magically, my side of the bed was empty when I returned.

I decided to sleep on my side.

***

Purr therapy from Kitten Thunder goes out to my brother’s family this week. They had to say goodbye to their kitty, Kasey. While she had a habit of punching me in the eye whenever the opportunity presented, she was really sweet to her family. We’ll miss her.

***

It’s Thunder Thursday! You may not have heard, but Friskies held a video contest for internet cats. The winner was someone I’ve introduced you to before: Oskar the Blind Cat. Now Oskar, I find, has a Facebook page. This isn’t the winning video, but it is one I hadn’t seen before.

Where are you going?

We had a long, productive day today. About an hour ago, Oliver was laying on my chest for a snuggle. Then he got up and started walking away. I rolled over to my side.

“Where are you going?”

He stopped. Turned. Came back.

Good question.

***

Obi has had forty belly rubs today. Since they mostly came from me, they quickly degenerated into biting and licking and kicking. And then the kitten gets wrapped in the cave and gitchy gitchied.

Eventually I would get up and walk away. A brown kitten lunged out and grabbed my feet.

“Where are you going?”

***

It is Thunder Thursday! This week I kitteh sitted for Mona’s fuzzies. They immediately set out to prove everything she’s told me about them wrong. Gus ate all of her food in one sitting, then licked the other two plates clean. She did not want to go to the office to eat. And she didn’t need to because Gabe didn’t even try to eat her food.

And this? This is a kitteh who doesn’t like people…purring and getting a belly rub.

 

Grey weight

Yesterday we went up in the mountains for a wedding. We were gone for hours and I knew the grey kitten would need some extra love today.  He’s getting some right now.

He’s also laying on my arm so I’m typing this blog with one hand and my phone. And that is all I have to say about that.

Birdapallooza!

The other day we had a little black cat visit us. He was sitting on the front porch eating out of the new bird feeder. I posted a picture of it on my Facebook page, saying he might as well eat the food because the bird weren’t.

This weekend, the birds finally figured it out. Since the feeder isn’t hanging they stand on the brick and stick their head under the perches to get to the food. Once they figured it out, they told their friends. And today? Birdapallooza.

We had wrens and sparrows on the porch. The blackbirds came over to check out the commotion. And! Flickers! I though the flickers were gone, but there they were. They were standing on the ground digging holes in the dirt. They had sparrow groupies hanging around them, hoping they’d turn up something good.

The brown kitten is in heaven. He has given up on supervising me completely. Every window has some sort of OutTV programming. Must see TV.

Luckily, the weather has cooled down and the blankets are back out. And my grey kitten is back to snuggle mode. He snuggles at night. He snuggles in the morning. He snuggles in the afternoon.

We’re snuggling right now.

Between all the OutTV watching and the snuggling, the kittehs are exhausted. We’ll all sleep well tonight.

Methods: Snuggling

As with many things, the methods of Kitten Thunder vary in their snuggling. The following scenarios both take around half an hour. Oliver, though, is capable of two or more hours of intensive snuggling.

"Fuzzy blanket = heaven."

Oliver:
Jump on The Girl. Stomp. Stomp stomp. Turn. Crawl under the blanket.

Plunk. Purr.

Purr. Purr.

Purr.

Nap.

Obi:
Jump on The Girl. Knead. Knead knead knead. Turn. Knead. Plunk.

Run to the dining room. Look at wall. Return to the couch.

Jump on The Girl. Knead. Head butt The Girl.  Plunk.

Run to the hallway. Chirp. Return to the couch.

Jump on The Girl.  Plunk. Stand up. Turn. Plunk. Stand up. Plunk.

Stand up. Turn. Turn. Turn. Chirp. Turn. Plunk.

Jump onto the back of the couch. Turn. Knead. Lay down.

Jump on The Girl. Plunk. Purr.

Stand up. Turn. Head butt. Plunk. Purr.

Stand up. Look confused. Wander off.

***

While the girls were here I found a fantastic deal on a Christmas tree. Obi wants to put it up. NOW. He’s been working on the box all day. And all night. He is, however, taking a break from box chewing and scratching to chew on Oliver while I blog. A kitten has to have priorities.

The Language Lightbulb

I talk to my cats.

This is not to say that they talk back or understand what I’m saying. But dogs are supposed to be able to recognize up to 300 words, so I figure cats can learn up to 500. Not knowing what those words are, I just talk. Besides, it would take a lot of effort to just say words at a cat. Talking is easy.

And though I don’t know what they say all the time, Kitten Thunder also talks to us. Oliver has some very recognizable phrases: “Girl,” “Breakfast,” “I’m about to toss my tuna,” “Where is everyone?” I’m sure some will be shocked that “Girl” and “Breakfast” are not the same word. Not even close. After all, I do snuggle with him as well.

We haven’t figured out Obi as well. He makes a lot of sounds, but I can’t assign a certain sound to a certain action. The closest we’ve come is his new “where is everyone?” call. It’s funny how cats will walk out of a room and forget where they left their people. Or maybe they just want me to follow them.

I know that Oliver knows certain words, like “breakfast” in human. When we feel like torturing him in the morning we’ll go through the options. “Do you want some dinner?” Blank stare. “Do you want some lunch?” Blank, edging toward irritated, stare. “Do you want a snack?” Glare. “Do you want breakfast?” YES! BREAKFAST! She puts the food on the plate!

The other evening, Oliver and I were laying on the couch. I asked him if he wanted to go to bed and he rubbed the top of his head across my lips. “Oliver,” I said again. “Do you want to go upstairs and go to bed?” Again with the hugging. But then I saw the wheels start to turn. I saw him recognize the words…upstairs…bed…

Yes, yes he did want to go to bed. That’s where all his best snuggling happens.