We don't know why . . .

K fell asleep with her head inside of the Our Generation RV that Santa brought her.  We do know that she is enjoying it. 

The cat wasn't bothered by it. 

She decided that K looked like a comfortable place to stop and take a rest.  After all, isn't that what cats labeled as "wild/feral" do?  :S

Perhaps I'll just be like my human and take a nap. Christmas is exhausting, you know.  :)

The Tale of Two Kitties

Smudge was our first cat.  She was our Maine Coone trial child.  She was 14 1/2 when she died.

She was a chewer.  She chewed through brand new head phones (not even a day old.)  She chewed through an answering machine cord (only about a week old.)  She chewed on the "twinkies" on Hubs' weight equipment.  She ate a diamond earring.  (No, we were never able to recover that one.)

She was not snuggly.  Every now and then, she'd lay on the couch with me and hip scoot just so that her kittyness would be touching my humanness.  Never one to climb into your lap though.

She was a biter.

She could be nasty.

She was a peeper.  (As in the sound.)

She was afraid of people.  She would hide around things and attack Mike when he came to take care of her when we were on vacation.

She hated K.

She was a park dump and adopted by Hubs when volunteers reported that they saw her scooped up by a hawk and dropped back down.

Leia is our second cat.  We learned a lot from our first cat.

She is a climber.

She will squirrel away in tiny places.

Curiosity will, in fact, get the best of her. We blame her polydactalness. ;)  Those THUMBS!  She uses them for good and for bad.  (Not evil, of course.)

She knows no, but will not always put it into practice.  (She's only 1 1/2 after all.)

She is snuggly.

She loves scratches.

She's a lover.

She's a talker.

She thinks that K is better than sliced bread and would follow her off the edge of a cliff.

She will hide from people.  Mike never saw her once when he was taking care of her when we were gone camping.  We found her hiding in the joists of the basement ceiling.

So a chewer or a climber?  We loved Smudge because she was ours, but we often said that if other people owned her, they probably would have put her to sleep.  Yes, she could be that nasty.

Leia is a different kitty altogether.  A rescue up for adoption, she was labeled as "wild/feral" at the pet store. No wonder why she was kitty-in-a-box for 4 1/2 months before we came along.  The food that they were giving her gave her a bellyache and awful digestive result.  A quick switch of food and months and months of trust building allowed us to have a kitty who is happy to live with her humans.

She is a vacuum cleaner, though.  We swear that she is a dog in a cat body.  Boy, after dinner she is under the table hoovering anything she can find.  (Hubs and K can sometimes lose control of their crumbs and whatnot.)  Sadly, Leia has moved to wanting to hoover the counter and after kitty drunkenness over the mama's cereal milk, I've been put my foot down.  She never was counter kitty until now.  I will not have a cat on my counters.  I will not have a cat on my table.  She hasn't tried the fridge yet, but I'll tell you that I won't have that, either.  She will have to abide by those rules.  A few kitty rules, but those are not flexible ones.

So, kitty owners, have you had cats so completely different?  If you've had counter kitties and chosen to resolve that issue, how did you do it?

Silly kitties can't be having the milk.

The other day, I placed my cereal bowl on the counter and walked away to do something for a quick minute.  K brought Leia in and said, "I found this kitty on the counter, drinking up your cereal milk."

Rule #1-  No kitties on the counter or table.  That's gross.

Rule #2-  Kitties can't be drinking the milk.  Kitties are lactose intolerant.

I had K immediately take her downstairs.  I knew what would come from a kitty who got milky drunk on mama's sugary cereal milk.  (For the record, I eat frosted mini wheats and I don't drink milk.)

We'll just say that kitty-kitty had a belly ache.  Kitty-kitty was confined to the basement so that she could deal with that.  By the evening, bounce had returned to her step and she was running and playing once again.

I have started calling her "Milky" tough.

Transformation of the Comet Darner

I was tending to my gardens this morning and saw what appeared to be a cellophane wrapper in my lilies.  

It wasn't cellophane.

Hubs reported that it was a newly emerged Comet Darner and while it is common other places, it is quite rare for us.  

He told me to watch it for a few hours and I would see how it would change.  

The wings are clear and glassy.  Just slightly lined.  The body is just filling with blood.  You can see how it isn't completely filled up yet.  

(A hair blurry.  If I got any closer, it would have flown away.)

The wings are lined.  The body is changing color.

Look at how the body has changed as it has dried in the sun. 

Class dismissed. :)

Tumble Dry Kitty

-- No opposable thumbed tuxedo kitties were harmed in the making of this blog post. --

Since K was at camp with Hubs this week, I decided that today I would kick around the house and be domestic.  I freed the table of the pile that always feels it needs to live there, dusted, did some dishes, made a delicious dinner, watered some flowers outside, was a laundress . . . you get the idea.

I realized that I hadn't seen Leia for a while.  I looked, didn't see her and figured she'd eventually show back up.  She's an indoor kitty and our house isn't that big.

About an hour after I realize I hadn't seen her, I still haven't seen her.  I looked in her usual haunts and still-- no kitty.  This normally wouldn't be reason for alarm, but this kitty girl has gotten herself in some tight places before.

I started calling for her.  I looked for her.  I couldn't find her.

Then I remembered-- the dryer.  Oh, no.  Maybe she got into the dryer when I was throwing clothes in.  I ran down, didn't hear a thump or meow and started digging through the clothes.  :whew:  No tumble dry kitty.

Then I thought about the possibility that the screen fell out.  I checked the screens and they were all intact.  :whew:  No escape kitty.

Where is she?  I called and called.  Finally, I heard the ting of a tiny bell.  She squirreled herself away in a place in K's tiny room that I didn't check.  I don't know where she was, but she hopped over the baby gate and all was well.

I about had a heart attack when the thought that I tumbled her dry came to mind.  I was listening to Jane's Addiction and I wouldn't have heard anything.

Double check dryer.  She likes to stand and watch me throw clothes in.

Don't give mama a heart attack like that, kitty-dear.  Mama can't handle it.

Miss Leia's first visit to the vet.

A quick snap left me with a grainy photo.  Sorry.

Leia's now 10 1/2 months old.  We've had her for a month and a half.  Between her skittishness when we first got her to the dreadful cold, today was the first time that seemed practical to take her.

Baby thing did not enjoy going back into a box.  After placing her in the cat carrier, I walked out of the room for a few minutes.  There was a ruckus and she was trying everything she could to open the door.  I placed the carrier on the front seat next to me, had kitty hand holding mine for a little bit of the drive, then she resigned to traveling, laid down and settled in for the drive.

When she came to us, she was 5 1/2 pounds.  She is now 8.1 pounds.  She was overly thin and I think that a chunk of that was that she did not enjoy being kitty-in-a-box.  The box stressed her out and she didn't enjoy being fishbowl kitty.  She has just now become comfortable enough to use the litter box in our presence.  There were a few accidents in the beginning because she was scared to death to use the loo when we were around.

Just in the last week and a half, she has become very comfortable with being upstairs.  Just today, she was investigating the couch and enjoying watching out of big window in the front storm door.

The only real concern we've had about her is that (I apologize for the detail) she is cow pie kitty.  I've thought all along that the food may be causing upset due to pies and odor, and brought it up to the vet.  She checked out as healthy all the way around, but he suggested that though she had a wormer, there could be a little something in there that wouldn't have been covered by the worming meds.  I opted for the test to rule that out and it came back negative.  :wipes of the forehead:  We went on to discussing food.  Though she seems to love the taste of her current food, Purina Pro Plan, I wanted his take.  We talked about how Smudge had eaten Royal Canin Urinary SO and though I would be more than happy to skip the $60/bag of cat food, if Leia would need a similar diet, we would do what we needed to do.  He suggested Science Diet or Royal Canin.  I discussed the adoption facilitator talking with us about Wellness and he said it would be excellent.  He wants Leia to have a high protein and low carb diet.  When they took Leia for the test for worms (ick) I went on and hunted down bags of cat food.

Wellness won.  The bag that I purchased is grain-free and looks like a delightful sum of things that I don't at all mind giving to my critter.

Right now, we are on the 50/50 split with food.  She ate it and seemed to like it really well.

She knows where K's room is and stands outside the door, waiting for a piece of yarn to fly out to her.

She has nosed her way through our room.

After a bit of a fright while investigating the table a few weeks ago, she learned that the food surfaces are not places for kitties to be.  (I tried to pick her up off the table. She ran, flew up onto the counter, spun herself around and went straight to the basement.  It was like racetrack kitty!)

She talks and talks.  She was having a conversation with K the other day.

I've seen her use her kitty opposable thumbs to pick crayons out of K's crayon carousel and go running through the basement with them.  No kidding.  She picked them up, placed them in her mouth and went running.

Oh, and how her motor runs.  I can tell you that her motor was not running today when she was at the vet.  I can also tell you that she was a bit miffed at me, but she seems to have been brought back around.  (I hand fed her vittles, which restored her trust.)

The vet's office?  They loved her.  A good kitty Leia is.  How happy we are that she is here!

Of kitties, cold and grades.

Miss Leia has extra toes.  We call them fingers since they are on the front.  Well, little miss thing uses these extra fingers as thumbs.  The opposable kitty thumbs are used to help her to grab things like the scroll work bowl holder (spilling water) and allowing her to take the clip off of the cat food bag, allowing her unlimited access to the bag of food causing her to get kitty food drunk.

Good times.

I purchased a latching lid container to foil those kitty thumbs only to find that Hubs forgot to put the lid on, giving Miss Kitteh full access to the food-- again!  UGH!

The lid ain't gonna work if we don't use it people!

It was -3.6 F when I woke up on Friday morning with a biting wind chill and wonder of wonders-- WE HAD SCHOOL!  Color me shocked.  My cousin said that her daughter's teacher told her that the kids had to stop missing school and that they just needed to get used to the cold.  At this point, it's not getting any better.  We're in a cycle and it's cold.  Above zero feels like a breezy day, so it is what it is.  My coat is filthy because it has been too cold to risk washing it and not drying it fully before I have to go out again.  K's is the same.  In fact, I'm going to try to sneak them into the wash here in just a bit.

To note, I did double check with the office staff and our guidance counselor to make certain that all kids have coats and that they don't need any.  I reminded them that the PTA has money set aside for such things and if they need, please let us know.  We don't want any child running around without a coat.  Brrr.

Finally, I try not to be a big horn tooter with this because we know where we've been and how it feels to be there, but look at what K brought home:

The "O's" stand for outstanding and they are for social skills and study habits.  :)

How a year and a different teacher makes a HUGE difference!  Her prize from me?  2 Harry Potter books and a new balloon air pump.  What did Dad get her to celebrate the occasion?  A new whoopee cushion.  :insert rolling eyes:  Needless to say, she loves it!  She actually loves all of them.  So proud of all of her hard work!

ETA:  The coats are laundered!  HOORAY!

Kitty in a box.

Kitty in a tote.  This is the tote we brought her home in.  She loves her tote.

Kitty in a work bench drawer.  We've had to secure that.  A work bench drawer is not safe.  We found her curled up on a hacksaw.  Who would have thought she would have been in a drawer full of things?  

Miss Leia is slowly bringing herself to the family.  It is a slow transition and we've learned that patience is key.  You see, Leia was kitty in a box at a local Petsmart for at least a few months.  That box was probably (generously figured here) 2'x3'x3'.  She was used to being in a small enclosure where people would look at her, but not touch her.  She was used to people pounding on the glass (even though they aren't supposed to) and perhaps used to getting a scratch and left behind.

There was no space to run.

Her bed and food bowl were litter box adjacent.

She has started to fill out a hair, or at least that is what M and I thought this morning.  He mentioned it and I told him that I was thinking that myself.

We discovered that leaving a heaping bowl of food for her is not the best way.  We thought it was.  She is rather skinny, but we discovered that she will eat it and have ill effects of digestion later on.  In short, girlfriend pooped on me.  Oh, she didn't mean to.  Overfeeding isn't a good thing for her.

We're all getting used to each other and we discovered that she is afraid to go to the litter box while we're present.  If she needs to go and we are there, she won't.  The incident that happened was because she needed to go, I didn't know, I scooped her up, snuggled her up in my coat and frankly, I think I accidentally squeezed it out of her kitty person.

Oops.

She did earn herself the nickname of "Who flug poo?"  After the snuggling/pooping incident, we needed to give her half of a bath.  I had her snuggled up in a towel, scratching her kitty mustache and telling her, "Awwww, you smellllled sooooo badddd."  She did.  Her motor was running and though the bath was a bit jarring for her, I think that she knows that we saved her from her own stench.  In fact, I told her that I was certain that she finally gave up because she couldn't stand the smell of her own self.

She has gotten use out of the kitty gym we built for her from scrap pieces parts and only involved a few dollars worth of kitty toys.  M built her a box at the top about the same size of a work bench drawer and we gave it a bubble moon roof.  (A clear popcorn bowl we had.)  We set it up with toys at night and in the morning, the toys are scattered.  She has herself a grand time.

Leia has not come upstairs yet.  It isn't because it isn't available to her.  I think that goes back to kitty-in-a-box syndrome.  She'll get to it.  Just this morning she came to M and let him give her good scratches.  Our basement spans the 1008 square feet of the house.  She has more room down there than she has had in months.  She'll come up in time.  We bring her up, but her feet haven't hit the stairs yet.  Poor thing is scared of everything, but she's working through that.

It's taking time.  A lot of time.  That's okay.  We're used to kitties with issues of kittyhood.  She doesn't bite, so it's all good.

Meet Leia.

She's around here somewhere.  

 She's under here.

 There she is.

 Come on, Leia.

 Maybe this toy will coax her out.

 Ahhhh.

 "I love my people.  I just like to keep them on their toes."

Speaking of toes, she happens to be polydactyl.  (She has 6 toes on each of her front feet rather than the usual 4.)  It makes her sort of a Hemingway cat.  He had a fondness for the polydactyls.  Though the only true Hemingway cats live at his residence in Key West.  There are about 60 of them.  

Kitty scratches.  Ahhhh.

So, who is Leia?  Leia (formerly known as Betsie) is a 9 month old tuxedo kitten that we adopted from a local Pet Smart.  She is very bendy.  We are used to a lethargic 12 1/2 pound Maine Coon.  She is not 12 1/2 pounds.  She is not lethargic.  She is not a biter.  She is a licker.  She'll lick you to death.  She is a climber.  Smudge was not a climber.  She was a defiant pooper.  She was a horrible biter.  Frankly, Smudge was not a good cat at all.

Leia is quite an extreme switch for us.

She's still trying to find her way.  She's trying to make herself comfortable.  We sat together as a family last night and hand fed her.  All Hubs wanted for his birthday to have some good quality family bonding time with Leia.  That seemed to really help.  While we slept, Leia ate the entire bowl of food, drank half a bowl of water, knocked down a gate, a Christmas center piece, a bunch of stuff off the top of the work bench and had herself squirreled away in between the floor joists of the basement ceiling.

She had a busy night.  The previous morning, Hubs found her in one of the work bench drawers.  Inside the drawer.  Only the black fur of the tail hung out to give indication of where she was at.

She is stealth-like.  She is super quiet, except that we did put a bell on her.  With all of the adventures she had last night, I'm surprised that none of us woke up.

She's starting to warm up to the family.  She's starting to feel at home.  I think it'll all be okay.  :)

Goodbye, Old Man.

Our 15 + year old green iguana went up to the collard green patch in the sky this morning.  Spike was the last of our pets that Hubs adopted from the previous park district that he worked for.  He exceeded the expected life span.  I guess we didn't do a bad job in caring for him!

Spike came to us when he was a couple of years old.  He had been a part of a rain forest exhibit in the visitor center where Hubs was stationed.  The decision to have native species only in their animal room was made and Spike (known to them as Iggy) had to go.  Hubs agreed to take him to a reptile rescue and when he did, the rescue looked as if it was in need of rescue itself.  He said that it was crowded, disgusting and that animals were piled onto each other in cages and aquariums far too small.

Iggy came to live with us.

I said his name had to change.

We adopted Spike and had him as a part of our family.  Hubs built him a large, sturdy cage.  One that he would have all to himself!  He had a ladder to climb so that he could go to the loft above to warm himself under lamps.  He had a mama who grew him fresh collards and tomatoes.  He had an outdoor cage when the weather wasn't cold.  We had to have parts of his tail amputated-- twice.  There was a park volunteer who scared him to death and every time she handled him, he dropped his tail.  He ended up developing an infection that didn't rear its ugly head until we got him.  The vet knew us well, but we got him through!

He lived a good life.

He is now buried next to Smudge.  We were certain that they were in cahoots together.  The cat and the iguana team-- together again.

Rambling things clogging my brain.

The Firefighters-  Oh how my heart breaks for that town.  Seriously, I couldn't imagine their last moments.

The man in our church that is now homeless-  There is a gentleman that you can pray for.  His name is John.  I don't know what the circumstances are, but as of today, John is homeless.  It breaks my heart.  He is going to be going to stay at the homeless shelter that Hubs and I used to volunteer.  Yesterday, we had the quarterly attendance awards/prayer shawl and baby blanket passing.  Rev. K called John up and had him choose a blanket.  She said that she knew that his belongings had to be light and that he would be residing at the homeless shelter for a while.  The practical previous homeless shelter volunteer in me knows that the way that this situation is being handled is in the way that you would handle an addict.  John has been in our Sunday School class these past few weeks and he sits there rather expressionless.  I know that the shelter he is going to has a dry-out program and job/life skills training.  We talked about John at the dinner table last night.  How my heart breaks, but I know that walking up and handing him money may very well not be the best solution for him.  If there was a specific need, Rev. K is pretty vocal and would have let that be known.  I feel that our best help to John is to pray for him.

The Paula Deen situation confuses me.  I admit, we aren't big cable people.  As such, we don't have the Food Network or whatever she happened to have been on.  I know that I read a delightful article about her in the Guideposts magazine several years ago.  I'm not saying that what she said was delightful.  She wouldn't say that what she said was delightful.  I read something somewhere that someone stated, "Everyone has said that word."  I haven't.  Maybe it is because I'm north of the Mason-Dixon Line or because where I live is by and large suburban America.  I do, however, think that this thing has gone way too far.  I knew that when she bailed on Today last Wednesday, she sealed her own coffin shut.  However, Smithfield won't be associated with her.  Target dumped her as well as Walmart, JCPenney, Sears, Kmart and the 5 book deal she had.  I'm sure that there are more that I've forgotten.

Do you mean to tell me that all of these corporations have a spotless record and live sinless corporate lives?  I think not.  I'm sure that you could search each one of the companies and find where there have been bad employee practices, sweatshops that have been employed to make their products, 15 years for one particular company on that list to unionize because conditions for their employees were so poor.

Lance Armstrong finally lost his endorsements when they confirmed his doping allegations.  Paula Deen says one bad word (albeit offensive) and her empire falls apart.  Even Martha Stewart wasn't lashed that poorly.

The Hamster escaped!  K was cleaning his cage, didn't have the lid to the ball down tight enough and when she was cleaning and I was sitting on the couch while talking to a friend, a cageless H was staring back at me.  I hung up on my friend and went running.  I trapped him under the microwave cart, Hubs was at one side with the Swiffer, I was on the other with a yard stick and K was in the middle with a hamster donut.  We did get him and sealed him back up in his ball.  Whew.

I'm a hang nail ripper.  It's true.  It is at this time that I admit to y'all that about a month ago, I pulled a hang nail on my big toe.  Yes, the big toe.  I was in the bath and I pulled it.  Oh, it pulled off along with about 1/2" of interior nail and have been in pain ever since.  Since I took K to the podiatrist for kiddo plantar warts last week and he was do delightful, I decided to let him dig away at my foot, cause me excruciating pain and sign an official document that I will never pull a hang nail ever again.  I decided that the hideousness I know that will occur can simply be covered by a variety of character Band aids.  Oh, and it is the foot that I broke almost two years ago.  This problem started not long after release from the boot.  I had decided to be a bit over zealous and give myself a really GOOD pedicure.  (There are reasons why people go to professionals.)  I lopped the nail the wrong way then and it hurt worse than the actual broken foot.  I had to have an in-office procedure done on my left foot when I was about 13. Then, we were poor and I was wearing ill-fitting shoes.  This was my own stupidity.  Don't you hate it when you have to admit that?

I can go without a coat in 40 F in the winter, but not in 68 F in the summer.  I was having a text discussion with Rachael about that today.  The 68 F was damp.  The 40 F is dry.  It just seems weird.

My daughter has an obsession with her Webkinz.  Hubs bought her a new one today.  I'm thankful that not only was it incredibly cheap, but our museum pass gave us an additional 10% off.  A tiger and a carrier for $4.50.  Not too bad!

The air conditioning has been off and it has been delightful!  Sleeping with the windows open has been a whole lot better than locked-in and canned up air.

The crock-pot has been my friend.  Turkey meatloaf last night and turkey tacos tonight.  Hooray for the crock-pot!

My child continues to read after lights out and is reading a book every day or two.  That's not a bad thing at all.  Just difficult to get a tired kiddo up and out of bed in the morning.

Tired.  Must go flip some laundry into the dryer.  All this afternoon mountain region-like rain is pits for the laundry line outside.  At least I have been able to give the new line a test and the replacement to the replacement line holds without sagging to the ground.

Night!

Gardenish things - Part 2.

Don't be all ooey gooey.  I found this on the house this morning.  He's harmless.  He's a jumping spider.  I just never noticed that he has a heart on his back.  Huh.  I'd rather have him outside and NOT inside.  I don't do spiders like this on the inside.  He's not big, but he's hairy and fast.  He can live outside thankyouverymuch.

The fundraiser surprise.

He lives!  He breathes!  He has a full name-- first, middle and last thankyouverymuch.  For the blog, we'll just call him Hatty.

K is in love.

PS  To bring yourself up to speed, I don't want you to think that Hatty arrived in a box of fundraiser goods.  The scoop is here.

Coming up spring all over!

The Goldfinches are turning yellow again.
(Yes, we had freezing rain, but the squirrel baffle kept the feeder good and dry!)
Not the most in-focus photo job, but I was taking it through the window and it was windy.  Excuses, I know.
True ones!  I swear!

While this isn't a spring thing, we have a chipmunk!  We had a family of them who lived in their tunnel network under our backyard for years.  The neighbor cat snitched one of them last year.  (I saw it and went running and yelling at the cat.)  We also have a hawk population, so I'm thinking that some were chipmunk nuggets.  :(

Tulips!

The girls have their wheeled transportation back out.  E's bike was still tucked away for the winter, so K switched back over to the scooter so that they could have equal transportation. 

The garden window has been reset and the greenhouse is filled and the seedling heat pad is running.  Oh, how I love that thing!  What do we have planted?  Cherokee purples, Big Rainbow Tomatoes, Romas, little Red Peppers, Cupid's Dart (a perennial and new to me), 4 o'clocks (though I'm thinking that they reseeded pretty well last year), and zinnias.  I'll do another planting in a few weeks, when I can kick the greenhouse plants out and roll with another set.  I'm hoping to grow all of my own flowers this year, making all of my own hanging baskets and having plants for the beds.  Most of my beds are perennials, but I'll plant and seed a bit in the front. 

Crocus!

My cheapie little St. Patrick's Day door decoration.  It's from the Dollar Tree and I just strung a bit of ribbon through some slits I cut.  In the attempt to save some extra money (see the flower basket comment above), I went a bit economical on the door decor.  I'll have my spiffy Easter wreath from last year to hang soon enough.  

Is spring coming up in your neighborhood?  Oh, do tell!

Have a great day!

The antics about the squirrel in a jar feeder.

Hubs and K made me a squirrel in a jar feeder as one of my Christmas gifts.  I used to have one, but Hubs gave it away.  He really doesn't quite know why, but he did.  It made me sad.  I've asked for one for years.  This year, they finally made me one.

The squirrels seem to love it.  :)

Hmm.  Let me see.  There has got to be more seed around here somewhere.

Ahhh!  I knew it!  I found this little bird feeder.  There is a darned baffle on the pole and I've already slid down the pole.  This one will do.

Stretch!  Reach!  

Oh no!  I'm swinging around crazy out here!  Help!

Have a great new year!

PS  I finally figured out how to transfer photos and drop them onto the blog.  The new computer configuration has had me a bit baffled, but I'm working through it.

We're still here.

We've been working through our kitty mourning.

 I don't wake up to the vittles hitting the metal bowl.

 Hubs doesn't have something furry looping in and out of his feet and around his ankles. Well, if he does now, we need to phone an exterminator!

 My laundry buddy is gone. I would talk with her. Scratch her on the head. She'd beg for more vittles. 

Walking through the kitchen, the pots hanging on the pot rack made the exact same "ting" that Smudge's collar did when it hit the bowl.

 Hubs comes home from work and I have nearly yelled, "I didn't feed the cat!" I've caught myself though.

 I think that Spike (our iguana) misses Smudge. He probably wonders where his partner in crime went to.

 Yesterday and today were grand days for leaving the windows and doors open. The sun was pouring in. Smudge would have been found on the slate pad at the door in a block of sun. She would be on top of the couch (on a towel, of course) sniffing the breeze that came in the window.

 I miss her doing the kitty-scooch shuffle on the couch to shimmy in next to me. Rare were the times that she did that with Hubs. She did that with me most of the time.

Whenever K was sick, she would come and hang out in her bedroom with her. No bites, I promise. She liked to hide under K's headboard. She would shimmy through the backside hole for the trundle. Occasionally we would have to sweep her out with the dust buster. She hated getting the sweep. Normally she would hiss, then she would leave you a very disapproving poop surprise later. Good times.

 On the other hand, my house doesn't smell like cat butt. No matter how much we scrubbed and cleaned, it seemed as though it always smelled of kitty bottom. The litter box was always changed, but Smudge suffered from some issues and she was a butt dragger. No matter when we took her to the vet and had that tended to, she'd come right home and do the kitty shuffle.

 The hair tumbleweeds in the basement have almost all been found. As a long haired cat, she would leave tumbleweeds everywhere.

 I don't miss the kitty litter on the basement steps that fell through the open risers and onto everything below. I don't miss the kitty litter dust.

 K doesn't miss the bites. Neither do Hubs or the neighbor. She didn't bite me. I told her that I'm mom and no bites. For some reason, she listened to that.

 It's been a week. It's hard to believe. For a critter that was with us for 14 1/2 years, it has been a bit of an adjustment. We've made a deal with K. She wants a dog. Longs for a dog. Has been begging for a dog- for years. On her Christmas wish list? Number 1 is "A real puppy." We will get her a dog the spring after she turns 10. That will be about a year and a half. In that time, we'll be able to get together a good game plan. We want her to work on being responsible, since the dog will be mostly her responsibility. She'll be old enough to be able to take good care (with supervision, of course.) We also want to be certain that we can afford a dog. We've explained to her that dogs are not like cats. They take a lot of work and a lot of money. We only want to bring a dog into the family if we have the cash flow to do so. This will give us time to do some doggie research with her. We told her that we'll have her do obedience training. We'll have her scoop poop (we're planning on having a pea stone strip that we hope to train puppy doggin to use for bath rooming, as I don't want a lawn full of puppy land mines.) I'd like to see if we can score a border collie for her. We had one growing up and Pepper was wonderful. K is a high energy kid who would pour her heart and soul into a dog. She would love to have a dog love her and to love on her. She would love to have a dog sleep in her room or at the end of her bed. We have things to work out. We have time. Plenty of time.

 Until then, I'm sure that she'll continue to ask to go to the animal shelter. It'll be soon enough.

She ran off into the kitty sunset.

We're sad here that our 14 1/2 year old Maine Coon made her voyage off to the Kitty heaven this morning. I knew that she was having a little bit of breathing distress yesterday afternoon and knowing her age and the way that it had come about, we knew that this was the signal that the end was nearing. This morning, Hubs and I were in the basement with Smudge and that is when her little kitty legs went running, despite the fact that she was lying on her side. She breathed her last and we were with her. Hubs went to work late and we just went to Sunday School so that Smudge could be properly laid to rest. In the middle of the night, there will no longer be the thumperness against the side of the litter box. She will no longer trick us into giving her two servings of food. No more kitty bites. No more hide and seek turds. (Her favorite way of letting you know that she was mad at you.) She was certainly not the kindest of kitties. K has a recent scar from a Smudge attack. Still, she was ours and we loved her and her quirks. We are so sad. :(

Rational discussions with a rabbit.

Peter, he is the cottontail that takes refuge in our backyard, and I had a discussion the other day.

Mind you, he's not much of a talker. Buddy boy is a good listener, though.

I went to hang some laundry on the line, went toodling around the corner and found that I scared Peter nearly to his bunny death. He jumped about 3 feet away from me, sat there and looked. He didn't move. Cottontail was not up. I bent down and said, "Now Peter, I need to hang laundry. You are where I need to be. I'm not going to hurt you. You know me and it's all good. If you could just move over there :gesturing where to go: that would be great."

All be darned if the rabbit didn't listen. He hopped over, as any bunny rabbit gentleman minus the red, white and blue striped rheumatism crutch would, and hung out there to watch. He moved on a handful of feet more to hang out under the swings. Then, he decided that his appetite got the better of him and he decided to graze on the clover in the middle of the yard. I would move, but he wouldn't stir. He knew I meant him no harm.

When I was done, I went into the house, peeked out the back window to see if Peter was still up to his nose in clover buffet when he looked up, saw that I was in the house and promptly hopped back to the original spot that I scared him out of. What was the funniest thing was that not only did he go back to his original spot, but he decided to sack out and just hang out there for a while. His leggins were all at rest as he lounged in the shade of the swingset tower. He was camped out there for a while until the evil black and white cat from next door tried to make him a kitty vittle. Peter ran for his life, seeking shelter in the thick lilies. I opened the windows, clapped my hands and yelled for the cat to go home. Then, I texted Hubs that Peter was almost lunch and QUICK! we need hardware cloth to cover the neighbor's fence holes. (The new fence goes up a hill and the neighbor kept the sections whole, so there are triangular open sections under each fence panel where critters can get in.)

We were talking about Peter last night. Hubs has seen him. He seems to have temporarily moved operations to the front yard. He had lived there once before. Perhaps, in time, our cottontail will feel safe enough to lounge in the backyard once again. Until then, I'll keep my eyes out, I'll crouch down and continue to talk to him gently. I'd like to think that he misses our discussions.

Tales from the Trenches: My morning started with a funeral for a goldfish.

I'm sad, but not particularly surprised, to announce that Goldie, the free Back To School carnival goldfish passed onto the big sea in the sky early Monday morning. 

Hubs came in and actually woke me up.  "Goldie was floating in the top of the bowl, so I went ahead and scooped her out."  I think that I asked what he did with her.  "I have her in a toilet paper tube."  Pardon?  It turns out that he gently wrapped Goldie in toilet paper, placed her in the toilet paper tube and put her in the garden window.  I guess that you do weird things when you are half awake. 

I was the one that got to break the news to K- this AM.  She cried and cried.  Grant you, from the moment that Goldie was handed off to K-, I said, "Now K-, please know that she might not live that long."  Of course, to prolong the doomed life, Hubs went out and purchased $18.00 in fish accoutrement. 

Goldie has been in the fish bowl ICU since Friday morning.  After our friends left, I had a talk with K- about how Goldie was now doing "the sideways swim."  She cried and cried.  She called Hubs.  She called Grandma.  Hubs changed the water that night (keep in mind that they did purchase an air pump), and it seemed to give her fins a little lift. 
Color me a little surprised that Goldie took the fish bowl nap last night, as she was swimming straight and everything.  She seemed to have shed that sideways swim habit that she had become so fond of. 

K- asked us this morning if we could have a funeral.  "Mom, may I say a few words?"  "Of course."  "Goldie, you were the best fish.  You meant more to me than anything."  "Even your mom and dad?"  "Yes."

A goldfish ranks above the parentals.  A goldfish doesn't take care of her when she is sick.  A goldfish doesn't take her for Happy Daddy Day.  She'll come back around after she is done mourning.

Smiles in my day:
-  We finally finished the summer reading sheet.  Hallelujah!

Tales from the Trenches: The $18.00 free carnival goldfish.

This is Goldie.  She came to us for free as a prize from a Back to School carnival that K- and I attended at a local church. 

Hubs decided to take K- for some fish food.  They came back with a bowl, food and an air pump-- $18.00 later.  It's a dad privilege, I guess.  He reports that he had a carnival goldfish live for 6 years.  Perhaps Goldie will remain with us for just as long. 

Still, I have to think that we aren't the only parents who get a "free" fish that isn't so free.  We also got a "free" Maine Coon cat who was our accidental investment, probably thousands later.  Same goes for our "free" iguana.  He was a rescue like the "free" cat, only to be put on tranquilizers by shot for a time (try your hand at giving an iguana a shot-- it's a two man job-- and get back to me on your success) and having had a portion of his tail amputated.  Those "free" pets never are actually "free" are they?

Smiles in my day:
-  A number of things checked off of my to-do list. 
-  The yard sale is over, with a total profit of $103.25.  Now, that isn't a ton, but it isn't the $10.00 total that the neighbor made for the weekend last year.
-  K- is having her first overnight at my sister's house.  My in-law's are out visiting with their other grandchildren (we must share them, you know) and K- was going to go to my sister's house for sitting anyhow.  They opted to make it a 24 hour adventure.  They are going to go to a friend's farm tomorrow and will be milking goats.  I told my sister to take her camera.

Have a wonderful day!