1 post tagged “cute”
I'm back from the weekend jaunt into picturesque Wisconsin for my brother's wedding. I do want to write about it, but I also want to have pictures to go along with my commentary. You all will just have to wait! I plan to dump the photos onto the computer this evening sometime.
For right now, though, I'm going to talk about the wee 'uns.
My cats have gotten weird.
You heard it here first - as if they weren't quirky enough to begin with - they have progressed to being thoroughly warped.
I made the first pumpkin pie of the season for my husband a week or so ago. The Dude (aka O) hung out in the kitchen with me as I was preparing it. That's not so unusual. O does his Dude impression pretty much everytime I bake something. I'm not sure what draws him to the kitchen, but he seems to enjoy watching...napping...and watching some more. Periodically he'll get in my way, but that's rare.
This time, though, he decided it was a grand idea to check out the canned pumpkin. In fact, he has decided that he loves pumpkin. What's up with that? Anyway, after hopping up onto the counter, multiple times, to find where I had hidden the pumpkin, O finally convinced me to use a spatula (aka rubber scrapper) to remove the last little bits left clinging to the sides of the can and to offer them to him.
The husband was worried that pumpkin wasn't good for the kitty digestion, but I have learned better. It seems that pumpkin is good for both cats and dogs. It helps with various stomach symptoms including both diarrhea and constipation. Isn't that something. So, I'm off to the grocery store this evening and on my list is canned pumpkin. Who am I to refuse my kitties anything?
Then, there's that tortie - Megan. She loves to sleep on me. Specifically, she loves to sleep on my outstretched legs. She gets rather testy when I won't cooperate by sleeping in a corpse pose all night long. I like to sleep all curled up in a fetal position. Since Megan hasn't found a comfortable way (for her) to sleep on me when I'm curled up, she settles (loudly and unhappily) for snuggling up as close as she possibly can to me. That's fine, and I don't mind it. What I do mind is waking up in the middle of the night after trying to roll over, only to discover that somehow, some way that can only be explained by someone who has studied cat physics my seven pound cat has become more dense and now weights somewhere around 50 pounds.
I don't like it when Megan does her 50-pound cat impression. It isn't funny!
Right now, Mike is the most normal one of the bunch, and considering how neurotic he is at times, that's not saying too much.
Even better news for all three of them is that it is time for the annual checkup at the vet's. That'll be complete with a rabies booster. The maddness ensues on Wednesday morning.
Husband, you who are about to die, I salute you.
