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.

Advertisement

Doodle Thunder

I’ve been out of town at a conference since Saturday. I’m sad to say The Boy reports that Kitten Thunder was less than inspired to do blog-worthy things while I was gone. It goes back to the age old question: If a kitten is cute in the living room but his blogger isn’t there to write about it, does anyone squee?

I made the mistake yesterday of talking to The Boy about his new car when I walked in the door. After five minutes I heard a “ME!” just before Oliver tried to climb me. Yes, Oli, you are the most important man in my life. Absolutely.

So, around Tuesday – judging by the doodles – I really started to miss the boys:

And cows. Evidently I missed cows. And pigs. But mostly cats.

Thanks, Mom and Dad, for paying for that art degree.

***

It’s Thunder Thursday! Rather than find a friend with a new cat for introduction, I’m shamelessly plugging my Pinterest board. I warn you, bloggy friends, that you should not take entering the Pinterest world lightly. Once you start it is really hard to stop.

It is kind of like the first year of professional Facebooking, when I thought in posts. Composed posts in the car. Carried bar napkins of posts in my purse…just kidding, I don’t carry a purse!

So the Pinterest board made special for Kitten Thunder is this one. The others are my other interests – I do have them, you know. I’m NOT a crazy cat lady. I don’t know if it helps my cause or hurts it that you’ll find out about my Dr. Who and Star Wars obsessions…

On the boards? You’ll see the thinks that make me ooh, or ahh, or giggle. Like this:

The Cats of Out

Lori, of Thunder sitting fame, has a boarder. A cat named Goblin that came to live with her while his people were in Europe. Have I mentioned that Lori is full of awesome sauce? But, tomorrow, Goblin and his people are headed to Florida on a plane.

I won’t even go into how bad I think a plane ride with a cat would be.

Lori and Goblin’s relationship started out a little rocky. He talks. A lot. She has a dog. But eventually they got used to each other and Lori taught him a whole bunch of new habits like eating junk food (I can’t remember if it was dry or canned food he didn’t eat when he got here) and going out.

A couple weeks ago, when I was in charge of Goblin sitting, I was warned about his new habit of bringing…offerings. Kristin, Lori’s roommate, mentioned that mice often showed up at Lori’s door. And, while Lori was away, Goblin had brought Kristin…well…squirrel bits. A bit here. A bit there. A bloody head at her door.

I wasn’t particularly looking forward to cleaning up bits. As it happened, I never saw Goblin that weekend. He was eating the food I left him but mostly he stayed outside enjoying the finally warm weather. A with no one to bring offerings, there were none to clean up.

Sensing, I think, that his time with Lori was drawing to an end, Goblin brought the ultimate gift this morning: a magic bunny.

She heard something under the couch and – since she is NOT a fan of squirrels – enlisted her nephew to help her. She roused him from a deep possible-only-as-a-teenager type slumber. Together, they lifted the couch and found the bunny huddled in the back corner.

Lori turned her back for just a second to keep Goblin from getting the rabbit. Her nephew never looked away. And yet, the bunny disappeared. In a blink of a bleary 18-year-old’s eye.

“Maybe he was a magic bunny.”

Unfortunately, magic bunnies get caught if they don’t magic themselves out of the house. Goblin found him in the office a little while later. No worries! Lori rescued the rabbit and set him free.

And Goblin spent the day locked inside to make sure he catches his plane tomorrow.

Bon voyage, Gobbles.

As I was contemplating this post, it reminded me of a night a couple months ago. The Boy and I were walking home from downtown. As we neared our house, we saw a big ol’ raccoon lumbering down the sidewalk. He got to the corner we were walking toward and gave us a look before disappearing down the drain in the gutter.

I’ve seen this happen before. Actually, I’ve seen this with a much bigger raccoon that kicked in the air when his belly got stuck in the drain and he had to suck in to get the rest of the way down. But on this particular night, what followed the raccoon was most interesting.

A little orange tabby was strolling behind the raccoon to make sure it left his territory. Not chasing, just quietly intimidating.

The cat walked up to the corner, looked down in the grate, then turned and strolled back from where he’d come. He paused just long enough to give us a look. “No worries, folks, the neighborhood is clear.”

Now, do you think his Girl ever wakes up to a raccoon at her bedroom door?