Tag Archives: snuggling

Birdapallooza!

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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.

Plight of the Mama’s Boy

Poor Oliver. Not 24 hours after returning home from vacation, I left on a work trip. He had to snuggle with The Boy. He had to push under the covers at night with The Boy. He had to get breakfast this morning from The Boy.

Perhaps I should say poor Boy.

Travel is over and I am happy to be home. Oliver is behind me on the guest bed pummeling poor Mr. Bear. A week ago that bear had some structure. He’s now reduced to a puddle of fake fur and a little bear-sized sweater. That’s a whole lot of kneading in seven days.

Oliver is ready to go back to the couch. He has the need to knead me some more. And Obi wouldn’t object to another foot snuggle. He’s no mama’s boy…but he still likes having me back. He guesses. If you need him to say something like that. And if I need to smooth his brow and kiss his head…well, that might be okay.

For Thunder Thursday, we bring you Kelly’s…Mustang Sally.

Sometimes you gotta slow your Mustang down.

 

All siblings love bunk beds, right?

 

Oliver thinks HE has problems with cooties...

Dragon in Exile

"You'd tell me if there was something in my hair, right?"

People often ask me how my dragon gets along with the cats. The truth is that when I just had Poco we got along fine. Zensai was out of his cage almost daily. He’d run around for a while, then climb the couch to lay with Poco and I and watch a movie. He loves TV. Especially things like Buffy the Vampire Slayer where the screen is mostly dark.

There was only one instance between Po and Zensai when I first let him run around the house. He was dozing off by a chair. She walked over, casually. She sat down. She looked at me. She looked at him. She looked at me. She looked at him. WHAM! She bopped him on the head, looked at me with a “and that’s all I have to say about THAT” expression, and strolled off as casual as she’d arrived. Zen was a bit stunned. But fine. That afternoon we were laying on the couch – all three of us – like nothing had ever happened.

That all changed when we got Oliver. Oli ruined Zen’s life.

But not the way you’re probably thinking. Oliver loooooooooooves Zensai. If I take Zen out of his tank a grey kitten arrives in seconds – purring, stretching a paw out to pet, jumping up and down to be picked up as well. He makes a total fool out of himself.

Zensai? Does NOT return the feeling.

Bearded dragons are capable of doing a lot of damage, physically, to us fleshy creatures. They can bite down to the bone. So I really want to avoid that particular visit to the vet. But more importantly, I want to avoid the emotional damage this attack would do.

I made a big mistake on Oliver’s first birthday. The retirement facility that had rescued him was having a birthday party for the cats – most of the litter was adopted by staff so the residents were involved in their lives – and Oliver was invited. Oliver is twice the size of his brothers and sisters. He’s also the only one with long hair. The residents didn’t pay any attention to the weird, unrelated cat. And then, in a horrible moment, Oli jogged up to his siblings in a friendly “hey guys!” way. They turned and looked at him in disdain. Hope punched him in the nose. They turned away.

I saw Oliver crumple in on himself inside. It. Was. Awful.

So now Zensai is a mostly inside his tank lizard. It was one thing when I could let him out and just hold Oliver, kicking and trying desperately to get down to play with his brother, because Po didn’t do anything. But with Obi as well? Forget it.

"Black Beard the pirate? He had nothing on me."

Go ahead, mention that houses have doors. Have you ever heard a desperate 14 pound cat trying to get through a door? That’s no fun for anyone involved.

Obi, by the way, seems genuinely surprised when a sound comes from the box of light. I don’t think he knows there’s anything living in it. I mean, he’s SEEN Zen. But Obi hits his head a lot.

Two Kittens in the Night

Some days are rough on a Chief Executive Kitten. On those days it is all he can do to lay on the rug in the dining room and gaze at The Girl with his chin propped up on the cross-brace of a chair. Today was one of those days. I’d show you a picture but, when I went to my office to get the camera, he ran in and settled on the bed.

“Oh good, we’re blogging. I can get some sleep.”

"You will put down the camera. Yoooou wiiiiill puuuuuut doooooown the caaameeeeraaaa."

I didn’t sleep right away last night. In fact, I lay awake for many hours with things running through my mind. The bright side of this is that a question has been answered.

Obi, I have mentioned, is not much of a snuggler. At least not in the conventional ways. He’s all for having you pet his aura. He’ll snuggle my feet on the couch. At least once a day he feels the need…the need to knead. And he’ll knead the back of the couch or a pillow or whatever is squishy nearby.

For a long while he slept on the loveseat in the bedroom. Then, for about a month, he attempted bed sleeping. As suddenly as it began…it stopped. I worried about whether he was getting enough snuggle in his life. Last night, I found the answer.

At about 2 a.m., Oliver got up for an early morning snack. Obi arrived. He kneaded the foot of the bed. Then the middle of the bed. Then he popped up to lick my nose. Then he went to the far side of the bed when Oliver came back. When he sneezed, Oliver noticed Obi’s presence and…well…thunder. At some point – I fell asleep around then – Oliver returned to his place in my arms, head on my pillow.

So Obi is getting his snuggle needs met. And his knead needs as well.

It is Thunder Thursday! I bring you Elwood in a box. Further proof that cats need you to buy stuff for you to ensure their continued happiness. Thanks to Phillip of the Facebook for his picture.

"You ordered happiness from Amazon? It is just my size."