What Are You Doing?

Young lady, we have to talk. You and The Boy were gone for years. Or at least several days. Sure, you had The Lori come and rub Obi’s belly. But it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t acceptable.

So why you thought it was okay to leave the house… It baffles the mind.

And before you go on about how you just went to the garage to clean out The Boy’s car, I have one thing to say: No! Sit! Stay.

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Christmas Cruelty

Dear bloggypeople,

Once again, I write to you – or dictate to The Girl who is typing this because “I can’t spell” – to report the most grievous behavior from my people. My Girl and The Boy left Obi and I alone, without food or water, for A YEAR.

At first, things were okay. After packing up the car with our boxes and most of our wrapping paper, The Girl gave us a bonus breakfast. But, while we were eating, they LEFT. For WEEKS.

The Lori came to feed us at first. She’s pretty good at the scritching and feeding so we thought we would be okay. And if she shows up we know that The Girl will probably come back soon. But she didn’t come back. And then, after weeks of helping us scrape by, The Lori also stopped coming.

We were doomed.

The straights, they were dire.

The kitty crunchies, despite our rationing, were creeping down below the level of the top of the bowl. The water bowl was only half full. Days stretched into weeks. Weeks stretched into months. Obi and I would soon perish, we were certain.

Plus, somehow, the litter box got fuller and fuller.

Finally, today, The Boy and The Girl returned. The Girl insisted on picking me up and kissing my ears before she fed us. Luckily, she carried me to the plates so I wouldn’t have to walk on my own in my weakened state. Obi was carried in by The Boy who had foolishly tried to rub his empty belly.

Who needs an empty belly rubbed?

I’d forgiven The Girl, a little bit (she’ll need to be punished later, after I’ve had some snuggles). Then I see THIS.

This isn’t me!!! The Girl has some picture of a guy named Nama on her phone! And then…THIS!

The Boy let some other cat RIDE him. WHO THE PFFT IS MADDY!?! So not okay.

I’m so mad, I’m off to lick my tail vigorously on the other side of the room. Maybe the next time, The Girl will think twice before she wanders off for a year to cheat on us with other cats.

Please, if you see The Girl out and about – should we ever allow her out or about again – glare at her pointedly and tell her that this type of behavior is unacceptable.

Sincerely,
Oliver Pi
Chief Executive Kitten

***Note from The Girl: We were gone for five days and Lori, bestest kitteh sitter in the world, came to see them every day except yesterday (Christmas) and today, because we came back today. And I like them to be hungry when we get home so we can bribe them with breakfast.

The Highs and Lows

I left Cheyenne for the girls shopping trip last Thursday. That evening, we went to my grandparents’ house and the trip could have ended right then. Because I got the perfect gift.

My aunt brought Oliver milk rings, all the way from California.

I couldn’t wait to get home to give them to him. But thank goodness I did because I got Kitten Thunder another great gift the next day. Our very first purchase in Salt Lake was at a Skechers store. I looked at my sister’s bag and declared that our mission was accomplished and that we could all go home.

She disagreed.

So I tried again at our next purchase, at Loft. Here it is, the perfect gift.

Obi got a real charge out of being in the bag.

Oli felt powerful…and pirate-y.

Unfortunately, a bag won’t do a kitten any good if The Girl insists on doing something stupid like working a 15 hour day. Especially if she spends most of that time away from the house.

And then insists on working in the office instead of on the couch.

Obi supervised from the condo.

Oliver contemplated his hard, hard life from the bed.

So hard.

 

The New Digs

Hi! So, how do you like the new digs? Kind of look just like the old ones, right?

 

I am actually in Rock Springs right now, on the last leg of the great Christmas shopping extravaganza. I can’t wait to get home tomorrow. Not that Cousin Spade didn’t do his part as a host. On Thursday night he dutifully slept on my feet.

And right this moment, Cousin Gracie is laying next to me on the couch.

Cousin Jigger hasn’t done anything cat-like, but he has been super cute. My mom bought him a hedgehog chewy toy – meant to clean his teeth – on the way home from Salt Lake City today. Jigger liked it. No, Jigger LOVED it. He chewed it nonstop from the moment he got it. We didn’t realize when we bought it that it was something that was consumable. But after an hour, the hedgehog was headless.

The next time I checked on him, Jigger had a headless hedgehog and a pile of nubs on the floor next to him. It seems the spikes on the hedgehog are the best part and he was saving them until last.

Last wasn’t far away. The hedgehog is gone.

Nubs and all.

Snow Go

Obi is waiting for someone to be unsuspecting. Oddly, no one is falling into his clever trap.

I didn’t blog last night because The Boy and I have a party to go to in Jackson tonight and I needed to get all my work for today done last night. Then this happened.

Technically, we could still get to Jackson for the party. But an eight hour drive through slushy pick – which hit the entire state – for a four hour party with total strangers? It just didn’t seem worth it at 6 a.m. Especially with the Grand Teton and Yellowstone being closed; the original plan was to stay two nights and visit our parks.

So instead, this happened.

Oliver thinks we should declare a snow day. I told him we will absolutely work from the couch all day but we will, in fact, do some work. He has left me, alone on the couch, in protest.

***

Not cat related, but worth telling:

Since I crawled back into bed after feeding the cats and checking road conditions, I had time for a bonus dream. I often have dreams about stepping in to help local newsman Bob Geha anchor the news. I’m usually excellent at this. Not today.

First, we didn’t have chairs or a desk so we were sitting on the floor.

Second, instead of doing a short summary and tossing it to the meteorologist, I gave the entire weather report. Poorly.

Then, at the first commercial break I realized I’d just gotten out of the shower and had a towel on my head. I took that off, tousled my hair and started looking for clothes. I found a Christmas sweater. This turned out to be appropriated because – before I could find pants – they introduced me to a small dog in Christmas clothes that was my next segment. I had time to meet Jerry the dog and learned how to make her smile at the camera before we went back on air.

Then the segment started…and I realized I didn’t know why we were talking about Jerry? Was this for an event? A charity? So I started describing this tiny dog. As a mix of a toy poodle and…a malamute.

This, luckily, is where I woke up. Right before a segment with a large Indian family (I’m reading a book about Bengal). I’m hoping that no one in my dreams recorded this episode; it will totally ruin my chances for dream substituting for future newscasts.

Welcome Home

So we got home from our camping trip on Monday. Our original plan was to come home on Sunday night, but we were really tired the week before when we got home at midnight…we thought a good night’s sleep and a drive home Monday was a better plan. We slept. We had breakfast. We rubbed Cousin Jigger’s belly.

And then, four hours later, we were home.

Oliver was starving to death. It had been A YEAR since Lori, bestest kitteh sitter in the world, had fed them. Or 18 hours. One of those. Regardless, food was his top priority.

After their meal, Kitten Thunder set to punishing us for being gone. Oliver settled on the dining room table where he could fix me with a hard glare. Obi, though, does not have such restraint. He needed his belly rubbed. And he really needed a good brushing. He danced around The Boy, trying to get his face brushed while The Boy tried to brush the back and belly.

Then Obi decided to do a little camping of his own in a pillow tent.

About an hour later, I was still being punished. Obi came to forgive me. Oliver saw this and ran across the house to shove the brown kitten out of the way – if I was to be forgiven, the grey kitten needed a snuggle.

Today I worked mostly from home. Mostly with a cat draped over my forearms. As I type this, there is a grey kitten on my arms and I can’t see the keyboard. Obi has taken his turns as well.

And if I have to get up to use the facilities (and oh, how I appreciate facilities after three days of unimproved wilderness)? Obi has that covered as well.

Does The Girl Pee in the Woods?

She sure does. And she has the bark in her britches to prove it.

After being gone for three days last weekend, The Boy and I tortured Kitten Thunder by leaving again this weekend. This time we went camping and fishing with some of my family in the Wind Rivers.

It was rustic and remote and fabulous.

We’re not quite home yet but it will once again be too late for blogging. So, I don’t have a story about how Kitten Thunder will react to our homecoming. Stay tuned for the story on Tuesday.

 

Mama’s Home Cooking

This past weekend, The Boy and I were out of town at the same time since we returned from Europe in May. The Boy was at a train show in Evanston.

I was in Utah with my family riding this.

And this.

 

And then I went back to Rock Springs to the county fair where I saw this.

And saw Phil Vassar in concert with a beautiful desert sunset in the background.

 

While we were having a great time, I worried about the kittehs. So, whilst my nephew and niece exchanged tokens for tickets at Chuck E. Cheese on Saturday, I sent a text to Lori, bestest kitteh-sitter in all the land.

Where the kittehs okay? Were they not too freaked out?

Nope.

Freaked.

Lori’s entrance into the house each day was met with apocalypse-sized drama. There was moaning and crying. Glares and pouting. I was very worried until we got home.

Oliver says that Lori exaggerates and that – other than that they hadn’t eaten for like TWO WEEKS while we were gone for three days – they were fine. I opened a can of food for them, even though it was midnight and the breakfast bell would be ringing waaaaay before any of us would like. Sometimes, a little home cooking – or Mama’s come home cooking – is all you need to soothe a troubled soul.

 

 

Cutting the Middle Man

Dinner is over, right? If you’re eating…stop.

Obi is trying a new strategy for growing minions. Since he hasn’t had any luck getting a life-giving bolt of lightning, he has decided to try growing them inside. Inside him. He gave up a gigantic ball of hair this afternoon – if I hadn’t seen it come out of him I would have thought it was Oliver’s.

It was exhausting. He plunked down next to it to recover. And he was none to happy when I swooped in with a paper towel and took his hard work away.

This evening he is back to a previous strategy: using the people as incubators. Both Oliver and Obi are dedicated to sending The Boy and I out into the world with mini-minions. Little brown and orange striped hairs made it all the way to the Vatican this spring. But with today’s setback, Obi decided to cut the middle man with his hairification of our clothing.

The Boy walked in on him “napping” on the ironing board.

We’ll see how this works out.

Crying…Crying…Cryyyyyying

Last confession: The Boy and I weren’t home yet when I posted on Tuesday, either. We got home at about 9:30 p.m. after a very long day of travel.

After two and a half weeks, Kitten Thunder didn’t even consider punishing us. Obi was desperate for a belly rub. A very stressed out Oliver needed to be held. The Boy and I needed to sleep.

All night, Oliver woke me up to tell me that I’d stopped petting him. It was a long night. It was a snuggly night.

On Wednesday, the crying started. Now that Kitten Thunder has their people back they are frantic to keep them. Any time Oliver leaves me to get a snack, he starts crying for me and keeps crying until he is back in my lap.

While I was in the shower, Obi supervised. And cried. He hates the steam of the shower. I told him he could wait in the next room. He could not. He had to keep me in sight. And cry.

Then The Boy left the house. Obi cried.

Then I left the house. The Boy says Oliver cried.

Today we both left the house. Both kittens cried when I got back.

Then Oliver held me down.

For the first time in two days I am alone on the couch. Obi is on the floor. Oliver was disturbed by me reaching for the remote so he moved to the chair.

Slowly but surely we will all recover.

In the meantime, it is nice to know we were missed.