Disco Kitten

Last year during the family Christmas shopping trip, I bought myself a pretty teal shirt covered in clear sequins. It seemed to be a perfect amount of festive and I was really excited about it.

Then I wore it.

Before noon it had rubbed sore spots on my arms. By the end of the work day I couldn’t wait to take it off. I’m pretty sure I did take it off the second the door closed behind me.

This shirt has been in my closet for a year. It has survived several rounds of culling because it is so pretty, even though looking at it made me sad because I was never going to wear it again.

But then! This week I realized that I could protect my arms and cover the more offending sequins if I wear a cardigan over the shirt. And so I did. Plenty of sparkle, no road rash.

And there’s an extra, unanticipated benefit.

Three solid hours of sparkle reflection entertainment for the brown kitten. By the time the sun stopped coming in my office window and the light show was over, Obi was ready for a nap.

His brother was happy to oblige.

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Thunder Thursday: A Day in the Office

My friend, Angie, teaches geology at a couple colleges in New Mexico. I like this job because she works weird hours, like I do, so we IM each other a lot during the day. It’s nice to have someone to talk to. I mean, yes, I’m talking to other people – through my keyboard – all day. But she’s the one I can be privately snarky with.

But that all changes in the summer. She takes her kids – sometimes her husband if he doesn’t have to work – and they wander around the country. We still IM and text all day. But sometimes not. I hate summer.

BUT! They have taken a break from gallivanting for a little bit. So today, Angie was saying how typical it was that when her desk is spotless, Maggie the Cat wants nothing to do with her. When it is “overrun,” that’s where the cat wants to be. I nodded and was about to type in that I totally get it. Though with Kitten Thunder there really is no point where they don’t want to be on the desk.

Then I got the pictures. And I have two points to make:

1. This, by my standards, is hardly overrun. Look at all that surface that you can see!

2. It never occurred to me that geologist would have different work stuff than the rest of us on their desk.

Weights with no paper.

***

In other desk related news, Oliver and Obi’s birthday is July 27. Their wish list has been submitted to The Boy.

Sleep With One Eye Open

I was gone AGAIN this weekend. But now the traveling is over for a while. To add insult to injury, when I arrived home early this afternoon I left almost immediately for a meeting and then had a call on Skype. So Oliver and I didn’t settle down for a nap on the love seat until after dinner. He was full of the purr.

Obi doesn’t trust that I’m really back. He settled down for a nap at the same time on the couch. Every time I looked over he was napping…with one eye open and watching The Girl. I’m not going anywhere without him knowing.

***

I was expecting to have a super cute video of Kitten Thunder and their first Skype. I mean, a man’s voice coming from my computer? His face on the screen? Me trying to be semi-professional? All of these things told me I would have two kittens crawling on my lap, over my shoulders, onto the keyboard…

Nope. Not a kitten in sight. 

How…catlike.

***

At my parents’ house this weekend, Cousin Spade helped me get ready for bed in the basement. After I turned out the light he jumped up on the bed, walked up my leg, over my shoulder, and stepped on my head as he moved on to the nightstand.

Then I heard it. The sound of a contact case scooting.

“Spade. Stop.”

Scoot. Scoot.

“Spade-O. Don’t knock my stuff off the table.”

Scoot. Scoot scoot.

“Hey. Spade. Un-uh.”

Scoot. Scoot scoot scoot.

*Sigh*

When I woke up in the morning I found my contact case balanced precariously on the ledge of the table. Exactly half on and half off. Also, the black kitten had scooted my contact solution bottle onto the edge. He wasn’t there to see the look on my face.

I told him later that I was impressed.

Somebody has to pay.

Today, the full staff of KnowSocial, LLC returned to work. Oliver was laying in the condo. The Girl was at the desk, social media-ing away. Obi was stretched out across the desk with his butt on the mousepad. Ah, the good life.

Obi stretched, at some point this afternoon, and exposed his belly. I didn’t think anything about it before I reached over and gitchy gitchied his stomach. Evidently he did not think this was appropriate. Lucky for me he didn’t quite connect the gitchy to the gitchier.

First he slapped Oliver in the face. “Stop gitchying me!”

The gitchy didn’t stop.

Second, he rolled to the other side and attacked my book, Star Wars: Children of the Jedi, which was next to him. “Stop gitchying me!”

The gitchy didn’t stop.

He rolled to the other side and slapped Oliver again. “Stop gitchying me!”

The gitchy didn’t stop.

Finally he noticed that my had was the source of the gitchy. He bit me. Then he kissed me. Then he bit me. Then he kissed me. Then he decided…

The gitchy wasn’t so bad after all.

Nap on.

***

So. The Boy and I have decided that Oliver is uber annoying. Now that we’ve moved to the basement to avoid the heat, Mr. Bear moves between the first floor and the bottom floor several times a day. With each move there comes narration from the grey kitten. “MR. BEAR IS ON THE FIRST STEP. WE’VE MOVED TWO STEPS. HE IS ON THE LAST STEP. MR. BEAR IS IN THE BASEMENT. HE’S COMING DOWN THE HALLWAY. HE WANTS TO KNOW HOW TO GET ONTO THE LAYOUT. NEVERMIND, HE’LL GO INTO THE WORKSHOP. HE’S IN FRONT OF YOU. HE NEEDS TO BE KNEADED.”

Drastic steps need to be taken. Tomorrow, when we will both be home to monitor Oliver’s sanity, Mr. Bear is going to hide in a closet. Hopefully Oli won’t notice. If he doesn’t lose his mind looking for his lost friend, Oli’s Mr. Bear may be moving away permanently.

The whole house, including Obi, would be grateful.

Sunshine in my eyes…

Day two of the new desk.  It has been pretty good so far. Some highlights:

We haven’t put the shelf for my monitor on the desk yet. I’ve spent a lot of time explaining to Obi that “out of the way” includes his butt. He is not even slightly transparent.

***

Even though I put bread on the window sill to attract them, the squirrel that appeared there scared the crud out of me. On that side of the house they jump down from the garage. Sudden like.

Oliver was in the condo with his head three inches from that squirrel but he didn’t notice because he was staring at me.  Obi was on the bed. I tried pointing. I tried pretending like I was throwing something at the window. I tried pointing again.

Two oblivious kittens.

Finally I stood up and used two fingers to turn Oliver’s head. As it swiveled toward the window his eyes became big and round. A squirrel!

Seconds after I took this picture, Obi slammed into the glass. He launched himself from the bed.

The squirrel? Didn’t care.

***

For some reason Kitten Thunder decided that my new desk makes sleeping downstairs for the afternoon power nap possible. I don’t know why. Oliver slept in the condo. Obi was on the bed. Both – in super cute fashion – were holding a back foot in their arms and against their cheeks like a blankey.

***

Obi found a shelf in the desk. It is a secret shelf and Oliver can’t figure out where it is. Every time he sits on the desk top and tries to look below he gets punched in the nose by a brown kitten paw.

***

The desk is perfect for sunbathing.

IT Support

The other day I posted a picture of Kitten Thunder working on my computer on the business Facebook page. I titled it “KnowSocial’s IT department.” Little did I know today I would be doing real IT work and that Kitten Thunder would prove to be less than helpful.

I bought a laptop in December that is awesome, except one thing: it doesn’t work with the wireless in my house. So I’m stuck, every day all day, sitting in the corner of my office at my sad little corner desk. I could go elsewhere, I suppose, because my laptop works fine with the internet in cafes. But then I’d have to buy coffee.

Anywho, today I decided to tackle the wireless issue. First, I traded in my ancient modem for a new modem. This meant crawling under The Boy’s desk to unhook the power and untangle wires. Obi was all about that. He identified EVERY wire as the one I wanted to put through the hole in the desk. EVERY wire. Oliver sat on top of the desk and tried to step down onto my back whenever it was flat.

The easy part was driving to the cable/internet company and convincing them to replace a perfectly good modem.

Home again. Of course the plug was a different shape than the last one so Obi and I rearranged the power strip. Each time a plug came loose Obi was bumped in the nose by my hand. Eight times. Eight. Times.

Then began the process of turning on my laptop – sitting on the floor in The Boy’s office. There were twenty updates. Oliver scratched his chin on the corner of the monitor. Obi joined in and scratched his chin on the other corner. I held the keyboard down to keep my laptop from tipping over.

The wireless seemed to be working. I took the computer to the dining room. Kitten Thunder declared that, if the computer was on their table, they should be allowed to type. And to kill the portable mouse. KILL! Steal? KILL!

I turned on smell-o-vision to distract them.

A while later, just as I was finally getting some work done because Oli left and Obi was supervising from the new cat tree, the wireless abandoned me. We spent the rest of the afternoon at The Boy’s desk, computer plugged into the modem so I could download a new driver. Obi showed me all the places he likes to be while The Boy is working: behind the monitor, on top of the cupboards, on the scanner, in the printer nook…

What Kitten Thunder lacks in IT skills, they more than make up for in support.

***

It’s Thunder Thursday! Today we bring you Mr. Peaches. My friends from high school, Jack and Robbie, are the lucky owners of this gentleman. Robbie has been lucky enough to have cats most of her life. Jack is a recent convert, thanks in no small part to the charms of this little guy.

And no wonder, Mr. Peaches is one heck of a salesman. Here he is, blatantly plugging Jack’s newspaper.

I haven’t asked him, but I’m sure Mr. Peaches would insist that I also blatantly plug Robbie’s jewelry biz.

Good kitty.

My cats are not spoiled.

In fact, Kitten Thunder endures a life of hardship.

Exhibit A.

What? You think he should lick soup out of a bowl on the floor or something?

Exhibit B.

We ARE working. This is very important for my clients.

And just in case you think only my cats have it rough, I bring you Tubbo. The most neglected of all squirrels.
Exhibit C.

As you can see he is struggling to survive the winter.