State of the Kitten Address

Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to introduce and welcome the Chief Executive Kitten, Oliver Pi:

My fellow kittehs and kitteh lovers, we come together tonight to discuss the issues that face us as a fur-covered nation.

For too long, the hardest working of us kittehs have gone without tuna. We must work together to ensure that all kittehs, big and small, long haired and short haired, indoor…outdoor…tame and feral, get their fair share of tuna. There is no reason that a kitteh who puts in a full two hour work day should go without tuna.

If you give a man a fish, he might share it today. If you teach a man to fish, he will share for a lifetime.

Or get his fingers bit if he tries to keep it to himself.

There are fuzzies among us who think that cheese, CHEESE, is better than tuna. Now, we obviously don’t always agree. But I say to you that differing opinions is no reason to stop working together. My brother on the other side of the aisle still works with me each day to get The Girl out of bed. Together, we get her to the kitchen. What we choose to do with her presence is up to us.

Over the past few years, our inventory of toys has grown stronger. We have fuzzies (pause for applause), we have mousies (pause for applause),  and we have feather sticks (pause for applause). But we could do better. I am urging each and every one of you to contact my person and tell her that YOU want her to switch from soy back to regular milk. Together, we can bring the milk ring back to this household. 

And tonight I am taking on a new challenge. Tonight, I will monopolize the entire loveseat. Not just the side with a fuzzy blanky. Not just the side with the pillows. Both sides. I am up to this challenge. I encourage you to find a challenge of your own and conquer it.

Thank you. Good night. And may dogs leave America.

And now, the brown kitten response from Obi Wan Kittenobi:

Did someone say cheese?

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Before You Meet Kitten Thunder at BlogHer…

The whole social world is abuzz with talk of the BlogHer Conference which begins on Thursday. People are talking about what they are wearing and what newbies should know and what weird eccentricities others should expect. But, as much as it pains me, we are not going to BlogHer. And this is why:

1. Oliver and Obi are BOYS. It is not BlogHim.

2. Oliver and Obi are CATS.

3. As much as you folks seem to like it – “kitten nudists” is the number one search term for bringing readers to this blog – conferences look down on attendees parading around naked. I can’t even get Oliver to wear a necklace so clothes are probably out of the question.

4. Driving the six blocks to the airport with Oliver screaming his fool head off would fray my nerves. Flying with him all the way to San Diego would not only irritate my nerves to raw but would probably inspire the pilot to find a nice mountain to run into or a lake or something, anything, to stop the yowling.

5. Obi is too cute. Hundreds of girls oohing and aahing would be too much to bear. Not to mention he’d have to be held.

6. Obi sees no reason to open the blog to professional business practices. We have plenty of tuna, so clearly things are fine. Oliver says we could have more tuna, but couldn’t I just figure this all out with the box of light and the clicky board?

7. Twenty five pounds of fuzzy doesn’t fit comfortably in the carry on suitcase.

8. Four days is an awfully long time to go without a proper belly rubbing. We’d have to take The Boy with us. He has another trip planned.

9. Have I mentioned this tiny life issue involving two houses, a car, several roofs and checks spread all over the country with various denominations and ETAs? Crazy and crabby is NOT the first impression I’d like to give to the greater blogging world.

Next year, BlogHer, I will be there.

Kitten Thunder will stay home. Nude.

Happy Birthday, Kitten Thunder

Happy birthday to you,
You’re eight; and you’re two
Happy birthday, Kitten Thunder
Happy birthday toooooo yooooooou!

That’s right, Oli and Obi have the same birthday. And it’s tomorrow. I didn’t even plan it that way. In fact, I didn’t notice until I took Obi in for his one-year appointment back in April. But how convenient is that?

I’m not really the type to get all celebratory about my pets’ birthdays. Heck, we barely get celebratory when The Boy or I has a birthday. So Kitten Thunder might get a can of tuna in the middle of the day. That’s about it.

And, since I was in the store and have been planning to get one anyway…

"We'll call this new program on OutTV...Thunder Cafe."

The new bird feeder is a big hit. We’ve had sparrows and wrens galore at an already wonderful window. Two windows, actually, because you can see the feeder from the breakfast nook and the dining room. It also hangs low enough that doves can sit on the fence and eat from it.

It might be low enough for squirrels to sit on the fence and eat from it. Which may be why there is a LOT of birdseed on the ground.

"Thunder Cafe is a big success! In one day, the customers have almost cleaned out the inventory!"

Hopefully the birds take better care of their things than the squirrels do.

"The easiest route is a straight line - right through the lid of the box."

There is a new squirrel in the neighborhood and boy is he ever stupid. He chewed this giant hole in the box in one day. While sitting on it. The bright side is that when the peanut level is low he has to climb all the way into the box. So we get little squirrel legs kicking in the air as he goes in. Very cute. And we get squirrel face peeking out once he gets a nut. Very very cute.

But I still hope we don’t have any stupid sparrows.

Hold the Pickle

We had tuna for lunch today. It was Obi’s idea. Oliver and I went along with it – it seemed like a fine idea. And so it was.

 

As anyone with cats can tell you, the feline ear is built specifically for hearing a can opener. If you have an electric can opener all you have to do is rev it to find every cat in your household. Even, oddly enough, if you feed them from pop top cans. Even if you don’t feed them from cans at all.

 

We do not have an electric opener. But Oliver can hear the manual one from anywhere in the house. It makes him really mad when he comes all the way to the kitchen and I’m opening Spaghetti-O’s. He doesn’t like Spaghetti-O’s. He’ll hang around, though, thinking that maybe I’ll realize that he may be hungry as well. It has never worked out for him.

 

But today! Today it WAS tuna! I divided the tuna juice onto the two breakfast plates. Oliver licked his around the kitchen. Obi has figured out that if he puts his foot on his plate it doesn’t move. Then they licked the can (yay for the safety blade that makes this okay). Then they asked to lick the bowl I mixed my tuna salad in – earning me dirty looks and no licks because I ruined perfectly good tuna with mayo and pickles.

And that is what they remember: I ruined the tuna. I am the abuser of tuna.

Bad Girl.

Today’s Thunder Thursday is about Bisco, my friend Leigha’s pug.

"That's right, they're called DOGGLES."

***

"If these pictures show up on the internet, I'm piddling in your shoes."

 

 

 

Battle Box

"You know what's really good in omelettes? Tuna."

The Boy and I were standing in the kitchen when we heard a thunk from Kitty Playland. Obi is the main user of the playland but we thought he was in the condo so we stepped into the breakfast nook to see what was going on.

Kitty Playland, you may recall, has been downsized to one box that has a flap on it. Earlier in the morning, The Boy had pushed the flap over to close Obi in the box. The lid was still closed but this time there was a grey tail hanging out. As we watched, the tail slowly pulled into the box and there was a thunk. The tell-tale thunk of an Oli plunking.

I lifted the lid to see the grey kitten – “hello!” I said and closed the lid. I did this a couple times. Then Obi walked in.

Obi approached the side of the box. He put his nose to the opening. A white paw darted out and punched him. There were a couple seconds of brown paws against white paw.

Then Obi got on top of the box. The lid clamped tight on the box. Then it slid down  a little into the box. Then a little more. A little more. A…little…bit…THWUMP! Oliver was trapped under the triangle of space left by the flap being pushed in. Obi sat next to him on the outside triangle. He looked confused.

Then he was bored. And feeling a little peckish. So he gave up the game for kitty crunchies.

I liberated the grey fuzzy.

As soon as Oliver left, Obi went back to the box. And pushed the lid back down while trying to get in. Trying to be helpful, I lifted him up – and gave him kisses until he squeaked in protest – while The Boy lifted the lid back out. We inserted him into the box and closed the lid.

We went back to cooking breakfast.

THWUMP. Obi was on top of the lid again.

Sometimes we humans just don’t understand the rules of the game.