My cat is insane

I may be crazy, but I'm loose in your house! A Valentine's Day message

2011-02-13T09:34:00.005-05:00

Yeah, that's right! Call me crazy, and maybe I am, but never assume I am a cuddly little love bug put on this earth to do your bidding. I had to assert myself yesterday and clarify my position as king of the castle and unpredictable eunuch.

I spent a pleasant night sleeping in the master chamber, getting up a few times to grab a few sips of water in the kitchen and terrorize the dog, who just lies there while I vault over her at least 25 times per hour. At 3:00 a.m. I decided to go downstairs for an early breakfast and what did I find? Nothing in my bowl! Not a crumb, nothing! Filled with fury, I headed upstairs, where my human mom was sleeping.

I made a few noises to wake her up. Nothing. Jumped upon the bed. Nothing again. "This is serious," I thought, so I started to strategize. What would wake her up and get her moving as quickly as possible? A plan came to my mind right away.

I snatched a piece of paper from the nightstand, sprang off the bed, diving underneath it, and decided to lie in wait. Next, I made crinkling sounds with the paper. Sure enough, my mom's body started to move. As soon as her hand moved out from under the covers, I rose up, biting her on the hand, determined to pull her up and out. She screamed, music to my ears! I decided to hold on, just to make sure she got the message, and guess what happened? She slapped me!

I hung on and she slapped me again. What nerve!

I was in shock and deeply insulted. All that fuss over one perfect fang being plunged into her hand? It only left a small mark, for meowing out loud! I could have done more, but I pretended to be scared (not that I was) and ran away. Sometimes I think I actually do get scared due to my castration issues.

Later, I returned to the scene of the crime,bounded onto the bed, stealthily approached my mom, got right up to her face and licked her cheek and her eyelid, just because I could, to let her know I was still there, waiting to be served. She dashed out of bed, ran into the bathroom, and washed her face. What? Like I have some disease or something?

I hope she realized that I could have done so much more had I wished... Like I said, you may call me crazy, but I'm loose in the house while you're sleeping... thoughts to ponder...

Happy Valentine's Day to all!

Good for what ails you

2011-01-30T10:53:00.006-05:00

Sometimes I feel slightly sick after grooming myself for hours. As beautiful as my fur is, it does get stuck in my tummy, and I have a furball problem. What to do?

My parents think that a product called Laxatone, "a lubricant for the elimination and prevention of hair balls" is the way to go. I hate the stuff and run away whenever I see them open the bathroom cabinet where I know it's stored. They've also tried to sandbag me by double-teaming me, one of them holding me and saying what a good boy I am, while the other rubs VASELINE on my legs and the tops of my paws, for crying out loud. No way, say I. They are insane!

I have found a self- remedy that works fairly quickly : eating plastic bags. Here's how it works:

First, I have to wait for my human servants to leave the closet door open- that's where they keep plastic bags. Next, I have to act nonchalant and be patient, hoping that they will not discover their error and slam the door shut. If I just lie in the doorway of the adjacent bathroom with my eyes half-closed, there is a good chance that I will be able to score.

Once they have left the area, I nose the door open, leap onto a shelf, and pull a plastic bag out of the tubelike thing that holds the bags. As quick as a flash, I drag it behind a piece of furniture- anything will do- and bite and swallow pieces of the bag. Then I just wait until the combination of plastic and fur create an explosion. I try to be mindful of where I will be when I'll start to throw up, and have created a guide for plastic pukers:

the top of the piano is to be avoided; I'm still working on this
stay off the couch; my mother gets grossed out
stairs are good
**high traffic areas, such as the route from the kitchen through the dining room, work like a charm
anywhere in the area of the litter box is recommended
windowsills are good because the human will see it immediately
**rugs are good, especially in the living room, where it will be discovered pretty fast
humans' beds are to be avoided, besides, I like to nap there while they're out, so why shoot myself in the paw?

Once I was sitting in the hallway near the stairs. The force of my throwing up was so great that I lost my balance and tumbled down the stairs. It was actually kind of fun, but I had to act upset when my mom came running to see if I was ok. I don't see this as anything embarrassing or shameful; in fact, I thrive on hearing "OMG! Look what he did!" It's strangely satisfying.

**A word of caution: if you live with a dog and want the humans to find your "drainage," be sure to avoid the carpet areas, as the dog will immediately come running and feast upon it. Dogs are so dumb!

The sweet smell of gourmet food...

2011-01-23T18:06:00.005-05:00

My human servants did a wonderful thing for me yesterday! I don't think any cat in this world can say that his people did for him what mine did for me. If I am wrong, please let me know. Here's what happened:

I was napping on top of the piano, when suddenly, the most delightful aroma assaulted my nostrils. I sniffed... could it be? Yes! It was Friskies Party Mix, and its perfume was everywhere! I rushed out to the kitchen to see when my treats would be delivered and to discover how my human servants, as I like to call them these days, had managed to get the smell of my food to permeate the entire house. My mom was not happy-- this I understood as soon as I started rubbing myself against the cabinet. Why?? I wondered? How could she not love the aroma of that delectable ambrosia?

My human dad had microwaved his lunch and didn't notice that my packet of yummies was in the microwave! In addition to heating it up, there were little bits of flame happening. I have to say that it was quite exciting

Wow, I thought! Friskies flambé! How very thoughtful of them! Not that I don't deserve such royal treatment...

I guess THAT will teach them to stop hiding my treats in the microwave and acting as though I can't be trusted not to jump on the counter or open the cabinet, which I do admit has happened in the past ... I do love them so!

My enemy the squirrel

2011-01-02T11:12:00.005-05:00

There is a lot to see from the windows of my home. Huge pine trees border the side of the house and there are many birds zooming in, landing on the branches, as well as squirrels scampering up and down the trees. It's nature at its best and in the summer, I watch as they gather in those trees and plan for the day when I will catch me one. I find it calming and peaceful to observe them all sweltering outside while I watch from my climate controlled lair.

Once the windows are open, though, I can smell those critters and dream of meeting one close up and personal. Not to boast, but this fall, I managed to get out of the breezeway, spent some time on the deck and was just about to pounce on a bird pecking on the ground below me when I was rudely shooed back inside. The bird was second choice anyway; what I really wanted was one fuzzy, chubby squirrel.

Recently, my human parents moved the piano to the opposite corner of the living room and guess what? It's the perfect place to climb onto to watch the action from the window! I flatten myself on the top of the piano with my tail hanging down; can't help it but it swishes and twitches back and forth when I get excited, and believe me , there is NOTHING more exciting than watching squirrels! I firmly believe the squirrels were put on this earth to torture me, kind of the way the Compte Paul de Reynaud was tortured by his desires in the movie Chocolat. All I want is one chance, just one, to make a move on one of those rodents. Sadly, I have been denied this simple pleasure. I imagine myself giddy with joy, commanding the action in a store front window filled with squirrels.... Ah, we all have dreams...

As I was checking out the action today, I caught sight of one of them who was particularly bold. We made eye contact and I know that our eyes delivered the same message to each other: "I would like to kill you." Kinda gives you the shivers, right? This squirrel was not just bold, he was sinister. Well, you tell me... you see his picture on today's blog-- does he or does he not look as depraved as I described?

I think he might be in a gang...

Trick or Treat Me

2010-10-30T13:49:00.005-04:00

Happy Halloween to all!

Since Halloween is just around the corner, the humans started making trips up to the attic to get some orangey things similar to the image posted, except with electric cords trailing behind. It is a well-known fact that I am absolutely fascinated by the attic, so of course I was doing my best to get up there. I've only checked it out a few times, each shorter than the last, but I hadn't given up my dream of touring the joint one more time.

I pretended not to care about their comings and goings, hoping to throw them off, lounging in the hallway, and looking at them with distain as I licked myself nonchalantly. But my curiosity got the best of me, so I tried several times to get into the room leading to the attic. Each time I was caught until I managed to hide under the bed, biding my time until the time was right. Here is where I made a major blunder, because under the bed was a cat toy with a bell in it, and I just couldn't resist giving it a little swipe with my paw. A jingle echoed under the bed. Very satisfying, but ... oops! Note to self: go back under the bed after blogging today and get that toy; it's pretty cool.

"What's that?" my mom said. "I didn't hear anything," said my dad, "it's nothing." My mom wouldn't give it up (she's like that) and started checking until she discovered me. I pretended to cower in an attempt to gain her sympathy, but she wasn't fooled. "We can't have you getting into the attic," she told me, as she hauled me out from under the bed. It's personally insulting to be forced out of a place in such an undignified way. What does she think? That she's a bouncer, for meowing out loud?????????

Before I knew it, I was LOCKED OUT OF THE ROOM! Or so they thought. You see, I have many talents, among them being the ability to open almost any door on God's green earth. Unless it has a deadbolt. With a little push here and there, I managed to get my front paws under the door and before you could say cat-astrophe, I was in! I flattened myself behind a wicker hamper in the room. One-two-three, the coast was clear!

I didn't take any chances this time, bolting directly for the attic stairs and quietly sneaking up step by step until I beheld the most beautiful thing any cat could wish for: the attic! It brings tears to my eyes to think about that place, which is my personal image of what heaven must be like. Talk about nooks and crannies! This place is loaded with them, as well as boxes, shelves, clothes hanging in two areas, and a spot where there's an exhaust fan that actually shows the space under the flooring. I was overcome by the thrill of it all, but before I could check it out, of course I got busted.

You probably know what happened next. Yeah, I was dragged downstairs and the attic door was slammed in my face. Unfortunately, although I was just bragging about my super powers in the opening any door department, this door is unbreachable. For now...

I guess I'll just have to live on my memories of those few glorious moments when I was in my heavenly place. As you know, that isn't the last of it. The humans will have to bring those orange things back up to the attic someday, and when they do, I'll be there!

Terror, torture and payback

2010-08-09T21:54:00.007-04:00

It was that time of year again: the time when my human mom entices me to approach THE THING and then shoves me into it. I have learned that THE THING is called a cat carrier. It's a small cage, lined with a blanket. It has a latched door and when I have to go to the veterinarian, this is how I am forced to travel.

Words do not exist to express the indignity of it all. Imagine yourself in a small space, rocking back and forth, like you're on some kind of insane amusement park ride. Once you arrive at your destination, you are plunked down on the floor, surrounded by all kinds of weirdos... drooling dogs, baring their teeth; hysterical barking fiends, unseen, screeching cats, totally abandoning their dignity. I chose to remain dignified and burrowed deep under the blanket. Disgusting odors assaulted my nostrils, especially bad doggy breath. Some of these monsters dared to approach my carrier, trying to catch a glimpse or whiff of me. When my name was called, the Nicomobile was picked up and the nauseating rocking began once again, ending when the carrier was placed on an examination table. Someone opened the door, expecting me to come walking right out. "Are you insane, or merely stupid?" I wanted to say, but fear prevented me from doing anything other than curling into a ball.

I'll give these people credit for using their brains for evil: instead of begging me to come out, someone tips the carrier on its side and out I slide, only to be grabbed and forced down on the table. What comes next is unspeakable... needles, pain, invasion of my most private place by some kind of object. I have news for these people: patting my fur and murmuring comforting words is no consolation for having an object inserted into my rear end!

At last the torture is over and I'm back home. The moment the door of the carrier is opened, I run to find a hiding place. I chose the master bedroom for my safe place and hid under the bed. My human mother came looking for me after a while. Usually I come when she calls me, but no way was I going to reward her! I let her come close enough to almost reach me when she found me, then backed up until I was smack dab in the middle of the space, unreachable. Then I turned my face away from her to let her know how much trouble she was in. To her credit, she left me alone.

It took three days for me to be able to face her again, but I didn't actually stay under the bed for the whole time. I would slink downstairs to eat and use the facilities while she and human dad were sleeping, then sneak back upstairs. I stayed awake most of the time, plotting and planning ways to get even. There are so many ways-- making a mess, biting, scratching tables with my back claws, shredding carpet, and the most effective of all, vomiting on a cherished item. In the morning, I would let my dad see me and feed me fresh delicacies. Not my mom, though ... not after what she let them do to me! I swore that she would pay for this. When I eventually left my hiding place, she was only too glad to have me sit on her and shed all over her.

I do love my mom, but a cat does have his limits and principles, and I felt that it was important for her to know just how angry I was. Trust me when I say she got the point. I am not quite ready to reveal exactly what I did for payback. That will have to wait for another time.

In the meantime, think about this: What if it was cats who invented technology... would they have TV shows starring rubber squeak toys?

Nico speaks out about Marmalade and other things

2010-08-09T17:33:00.008-04:00

Hello, it's been a long time but I'm back now and planning on writing about the joys, trials, and tribulations of my life over the past year.

You will notice that I've chosen a nice orange color for my text. That's because I've just learned that I'm a "marmalade cat" which sounds very ritzy and glitzy to me. Whassup with that? I'm not quite sure what marmalade actually is but if this name makes me sound as important as I feel, it's all good.

I don't know if this is yet another reason to boast about being me or if I ought to worry, but I have noticed my fur becoming more orange in color, hence the marmalade diagnosis. I used to be kind of beige or buff colored, and think my current condition may be due to my diet, but I have caught sight of myself in the mirror and do think I am quite hot looking with my deep color. I guess I'd compare it to the way a human would feel after a session at Beach Bum Tanning Salon.

It's been a pretty good year, all things considered. Let me mention that although I am even more handsome than ever, there is a slight possiblility I might have gained a bit of weight. I have noticed that when I engage in one of my absolute favorite activities, sprawling on the computer desk between the monitor and the keyboard, the space is a bit tighter than it used to be. Now, I could be wrong about this. People get new keyboards all the time, new monitors, too
Does wood shrink, by the way? I'd appreciate it if one of my many fans would let me know.

My humans wonder why I like to hang out at the computer. What they don't realize is there is a low level of heat coming from the monitor that is just the right temperature for me. I would compare it to the feeling you'd get if you lived in Costa Rica... nice, constant warm temperature. Just right, kind of like Goldilocks and her porridge.

After my frequent naps, I find myself waking up and wondering about my life. Some of the things on my mind are as follows:

why the dog gets fed before I do -- this is patently unfair

why my human mother keeps making up ridiculous names for me, such as "Mango"

why, despite myself, I actually respond to the name Mango

what happens when the humans leave the house

whether the humans realize that I bite the dog's ears when they leave the house for more than an hour

what they would do if they knew

It's time for me to snooze a bit. I had a bit of excitement this weekend when my second human mom came for a visit. As you may recall, I have had THREE of them. I cannot tell you how nice it was to see her again or how much I enjoyed letting my thick, stick-to-you fur get all over the dark dress she was wearing. I didn't exactly LMAO over it, but it's kind of fun seeing people get all frantic and wipe their hands all over their clothes after handling me. One of life's little joys.

In my next post, I'll tell all about how I was terrorized and had to hide for 3 days.

How would you like it? Nico speaks out...

2009-08-03T18:23:00.003-04:00

It was a peaceful July evening and I was minding my own business when I heard my human parents rummaging around in the basement. Since I consider the basement to be my personal territory, I immediately began to slink down the stairs to see what was going on down there.

Before I could sneak through the pet door into the utility side of the lower level to take a peek, the door opened and my human mom came out, carrying the dreaded thing. I don't know what it's called, but it's a sort of torture device. You can see it pictured above.

Now, I remembered the thing from previous occasions. This is how it works: to get me to go inside its teenie tiny space, they put my favorite blanket inside and plant a few treats and toys inside, counting on my curious nature. Once I go inside, they slam the door shut and lock it, leaving me inside. What happens next is unspeakable. They carry it outside to the car, put the thing on the back seat, STRAP it with the seatbelt (are you kidding me??) and drive me to a secret location, bring me inside some stranger's lair, and relegate me to a restricted area called a "kitty condo, "where they leave me for days, weeks, years (I have no concept of time). It might have been a day, but I have no idea; maybe it was a year!

The stranger who took care of me was very nice and it was from her that I found out why I was there. Apparently my human parents were on a thing called a vacation.

I was stranded there without access to my blog, so since I just got home yesterday, I wanted to let you all know that I'm alive and well and already planning my revenge.

I was subjected to the final indignity of this misadventure this morning: my human mom weighed me and announced to the whole world that I had gained half a pound! That might mean that I was gone for more than a day because I couldn't possibly have gained 8 ounces in a day.

Now, I ask you, how would you like it? If you know what the thing is called, let me know so I can refer to it by its proper name.

Keep it clean... Nico speaks out about hygiene

2009-07-17T17:51:00.011-04:00

There is nothing I enjoy more than keeping myself clean and neat. This is pretty amazing when you consider that I lived in Brooklyn with two young ladies, my first mom and my second mom, and to put it nicely, the place was euh--- euh--- ummmm---shall I say ---uniquely maintained. Voilà le mot juste!

Here you see me grooming myself, which is something I do whenever I get the urge. I'd have to say that I lap at myself constantly, except for when I'm sleeping. If I get bored, I lick myself. If someone touches me and ruffles my fur, I groom myself. If the dog brushes by me, licking is the solution. If I've just used the facilities, I clean myself again. I would compare it to a human who might eat potato chips out of boredom. It's hard to stop! Maybe I'm OCDC? Nah, just kidding!

You should see how much spit I can transfer from my tongue to my paw! 50% of my waking time is devoted to cleaning and grooming myself. I like to concentrate on my white fur, which is immaculate, if I do say so myself. Actually someone who was visiting me recently exclaimed over my handsome features and blindingly white fur. Well, maybe she didn't exactly say "blindingly," but she did think it was exceptionally bright white. I maintain my exceptional self with just my own saliva, no special brightening or whitening like you humans sometimes have to do to your ugly, rectangular teeth. That's something I've always wondered about... how do you eat with those things? I love my sharp, pointed fangs. I'd look rather strange with choppers like yours. Ugh!

Thought for the day: With the qualities of cleanliness, affection, patience, dignity, and courage that cats have, how many of us, I ask you, would be capable of becoming cats? - Fernand Mery

Someone will pay for this! Nico speaks out...

2009-07-16T21:02:00.006-04:00

Yes, that's me wearing the magenta scarf. As you can probably guess, it was forced upon me, which is why I have my eyes half-closed, pretending that I was invisible. It's pretty embarrassing, but don't worry-- the person who did this to me will pay!

Magenta may not be my color, but damn, I do look handsome, don't I?

Does it make me look fat?

How I looked when I escaped...

2009-07-16T20:46:00.005-04:00

I thought you'd all like to see me walking through the screen. As you can see, most of my body is through; it's just my gigantic derrière and tail that have yet to make it. The long string-like thing you see to the left is called "spline." It's used to hold the screen in the channel of the door frame. I found it quite amusing when the male human was fiddling with it, trying to get it in place because I knew I was going to undo his work within seconds.

I'm not quite sure what he was muttering when he found me prancing around the deck, but I do believe it might have been something derogatory about me.

Nico, the king of home decorating

2009-07-16T15:57:00.005-04:00

Nico has done quite a few things that have added to his mystique and celebrity, or should I say, notoriety. In case my daughter has forgotten how mischievous her crazy cat is, here are a few items of note.

Nico cannot stand having any decorations on the mantle in the living room. At Christmas, I had garlands of holly framing the fireplace and spent quite a lot of time getting it to look just right. Nico was observing this and seemed quite captivated by batting the garland until he was shooed away. My mistake was in believing that he would lose interest in the decorations. Wrong!

A few minutes after I had moved on to another decorating project elsewhere in the house, I heard some suspicious sounds and returned to the living room, only to find Nico lounging on the hearth, surrounded by fallen holly garlands, looking totally innocent, as if to say,"Who, me?" As I approached him, he sprang up and began playing hockey with the push pins that I had used to keep the holly in place. Fearing that he might swallow one of them, I took them away from him and put the holly back in place, all the while wondering how he had managed to knock everything down. Loco Boy was watching me, pretending to be bored, but he was plotting his next move. My mistake was to underestimate his determination.

I waited until he went elsewhere to shred carpet or whatever he does to entertain himself, and put everything back together. Stepping back to admire the effect, I was almost knocked over by him as he rushed past me and sprang onto the top of the mantle. Before I could remove him, he sank his teeth into one of the garlands and tore it completely off, then jumped down and ran away. I could hear him batting more push pins in the kitchen, and since they posed a potential danger to the little darling, I went to take them away from him. He let out a loud and annoyed "Meow!" before racing back to the living room and getting another push pin from his secret stash under the coffee table.

Guess who gave up eventually ? I'll give you a hint -- it was not I! The garlands were removed and put away. Nico obviously has high decorating standards which I did not achieve. Apparently, Christmas stockings also offend him because he kept knocking those down as well. Perhaps he objects to them for religious reasons because he's of a different faith?

I guess I'll try again next year and hope that maybe his fat cat derrière will prevent him from reaching the mantle. I'm still finding push pins in odd places. Hey, at least he liked the push pins!

Success, in Nico's own words

2009-07-14T21:04:00.007-04:00

Nya, nya, nya, nya, nyanyaaaa!

I just wanted to report my most recent success in the escape department.

Shortly after my human father came home from work tonight, he fixed my screen flap, effectively preventing me from leaving the premises at will. Those of you who know me, my loyal followers, know that I wouldn't let him get away with that. So...

I waited until he had fixed the screen (again!) and put away his tools. Then I pushed as hard as I could against the screen, and eureka! I was outta there! The best part is they didn't even know what I had done. They were busy blabbing in the kitchen, not even paying attention, getting ready to cook food that they'd never share with me. And they call themselves "parents!"

I walked around the deck, sniffed those alluring flowers again, and made the plunge, diving off the deck onto the lawn. It felt like green velvet, very nice, and actually rather tasty as well. I nibbled a few blades of grass, wandered around the yard, checking out the scenery, and then I heard it... the unmistakable sound of the slider door opening. The humans had discovered the gaping opening and were searching for me.

I couldn't help it, I froze. Yes, I know this makes me a wimp, but I panicked, and stupidly looked up at them as they grabbed me in a most undignified manner and unceremoniously dumped me in the kitchen. I was having none of that, and did my best to escape, but alas, they were quicker than I was. They slammed the kitchen door and when it was reopened, what did I see? The screen was back in place. Had I realized they were going to bring tools with them, I would have put up more of a fight or given them a good bite, just to make a point.

They may think they're pretty clever, but I will do it again, and soon. The screen that can keep me in hasn't been invented yet!

I should mention that my tasty grass hors d'oeuvres made me vomit, but I managed to do that on the kitchen floor. That'll teach them!

Freedom... almost!

2009-07-14T12:14:00.003-04:00

To all my avid followers,

I want to announce that after several days of poking and pushing at the screen on the slider door that looks out onto the deck of my luxurious home, I have managed to tear away the screening! I have been planning my escape for months, ever since Spring arrived.

Whenever the humans with whom I reside happen to leave me to my own devices, while the slider door reveals the screen, I take the opportunity to stand on my hind legs and stretch my long (and I must say, beautiful) body by putting up my paws and leaning into the screen. At first, nothing happened, but then I noticed it... the gateway to freedom... a small space between the frame of the door and the screen!

Although I was shooed away, which, by the way, is so darned insulting, I managed to sneak back and do it again and again and again. I am nothing if not sneaky! In fact, my keepers call me "Sneaky Neeky." By the time I was through, I had torn away an eight-inch area of the screen.

Unfortunately, I was caught. My human mom was sunning herself on the deck when I actually broke through by creating a flap through which I was able to pass. It was hyper-cool! I just pranced through the opening and walked out onto the deck, sniffing at the flowers that have been beckoning to me through the screen.

The scent of the flowers was too much for me. I got so excited that I jumped up onto my mom's lap, startling her. The dolt hadn't noticed that I had escaped until I blew it. She picked me up, brought me back inside, and closed the slider door, preventing me from getting to the screen. Foiled! But that's just temporary. I'm going to do it again as soon as I get the chance.

I'm going to keep working until I attain my goal. For all of you out there who may have goals and dreams, I suggest that you follow my way of thinking. Here goes: "Think little goals and expect little achievements. Think big goals and win big success." As Andrew Carnegie said, "If you want to be happy, set a goal that commands your thoughts, liberates your energy and inspires your hopes."

I think I'll ponder that while I lie on the couch and lick myself.

Where you go, I will follow...

2009-06-15T20:46:00.003-04:00

Nico MUST be where I am at all times. This extends to the computer desk. Whenever I'm working, he jumps up, lies down between the monitor and the keyboard, and falls asleep. He becomes indignant when he is removed.

The problem is that he's getting so big that when he attempts to occupy that space, his swinging tail or huge paws end up on the keys, making for some crazy typo's. I pick him up, put him down, and within moments, he's back.

One of his favorite things to do (if he can stay awake) is to stare at the monitor and watch the cursor move. The only problem with this is that I can't see the screen to type my words! This picture shows him doing his thing, but he's so much bigger now, and likes to lie facing the screen with his very large derrière covering half of the keyboard.

It's so nice to be irrestistible in my cat's eyes. Where I go, he MUST follow.

Nico says, "Reynolds Wrap saved my life!"

2009-06-15T20:24:00.004-04:00

You might wonder about the dramatic title of this blog, but it really is true... Reynolds Wrap has saved my life. Let me explain...

When Nico came to live with us, he was almost a year old. He had certain bad habits of which we were unaware, the most annoying of all being a love of using the bathtub as a giant litter box. This was discovered within 2 weeks of arriving at his new home.

When it first happened, I spoke to my daughter and she feigned shock, telling me that this had never happened when he was living with her. "Never?" I asked? "Never!" was the reply. She commented that maybe I wasn't keeping his litter box as clean as I should. Thinking that this was a fluke, I continued to leave the bathroom door open, only to discover that he did it again a few days later. Trust me when I say that his litter box was pristine.

I continued to keep the bathroom door closed until I hit upon a solution: Reynolds Wrap. This is what I have been reduced to doing -- I keep a long sheet of wide Reynolds Wrap in the tub. Nico hates the sound and feel of it, so he stays out of the tub. I don't like having to do this, having to remove the wrap each time we shower or clean the tub, but it seems to be the only deterrent. I cannot imagine what people would think if they were to pull the shower curtain aside and see the shiny silver lining, but then again, if we had peeping guests, it would serve them right!

By the way, my daughter eventually admitted that the cat frequently did his "thing" in the tub, adding that she didn't want to tell us because we wouldn't have taken the cat into our home had we known.

Our crazy boy has had his wings clipped and is now a reformed tub pooper.

Insanity update

2009-06-15T19:14:00.004-04:00

S simulated image, not really my crazy cat

If my cat could talk, this is what he would say:

"For reasons known only to myself, I have developed the habit of hiding behind a chair so that I can leap out and grab a human leg that happens to pass by. I find it relaxing, as well as a way to assert my rule over the humans with whom I dwell."

Since he is a recovering biter, he has to restrain himself from biting me when the urge strikes. He opens his mouth and makes his move, but stops short of executing the bite. I really have to admire his self-control, but then again, sometimes he falls off the wagon and gives in to his urges.

Bird slayer

2009-02-19T19:15:00.001-05:00

For many years, we had a white dove ornament that we hung on our Christmas tree. It had luxurious feathers and looked very nice.

Apparently, it was a little too realistic for Nico the crazy cat because he stole it from the tree and left it on my daughter's crimson rug, totally disemboweled. I must say that leaving it on that particular rug made a statement.

My only regret is that I didn't grab the digital camera so I would have proof of the bird slaying. I won't make that mistake again, rest assured.

My cat loves me too much, perhaps!

2009-02-02T16:30:00.000-05:00

I never had any pets when I was growing up, but love animals. My husband and I had cats for several years, but had to give up being cat owners when our daughter was diagnosed with asthma. She was not allergic to dogs, however, so we added a Sheltie to our family and absolutely love the breed.

We thought that having a cat was a thing of the past until ...

Our daughter went off to college and ended up with a cat that her roommate had brought into their apartment. When the asthma made it intolerable for her to share her living space with the cat, my husband and I took Nico the cat to live with us rather than have him reside at a shelter.

This cat is seriously insane, but adorable. In an attempt to lead me to the area where he gets fed, he bounds down the stairs, runs between my feet, and can actually get from the top step to the bottom in just a few leaps. The sound of his paws hitting the steps would have you convinced that a 50-pound creature is on the staircase! I can see that a serious fracture could happen if I ever forgot for one moment that he is a "stair master."

He follows me around like a dog and absolutely HAS to be wherever I am. He MUST sit on me, next to me, or with me. He has huge legs and a very long body and is "able to leap tall buildings at a single bound," as the saying goes.

One of his favorite things is to lie across my keyboard, occasionally standing to swipe at the cursor on the screen. He thinks it's a bug or something.... You ought to see his beady (just kidding) eyes following its movement. When he parks his derrière on the keyboard, he always manages to do something that changes the set-up or adds all kinds of symbols to whatever file I'm working on. And he refuses to move.

As annoying as all this can be, I love him, and I love telling my daughter all about his antics. In this blog, I'll be sharing his escapades for all to enjoy.