And more grooming...

When I finished brushing El Gato, I'm always left with piles of gray kitteh fur. I rolled some of into a wee El Gato's gray kitteh fur sausage so it wouldn't blow into my computer's ventilation while I finished the brushing. La Doof Kitton thought that might be the new, coolest kitteh toy evah. He stole it, played with it, layed on it, rolled around on it and cuddled with it.

Then he tried to eat it.

(directions for making such a toy, if you want to risk the eating are here:
http://www.instructables.com/id/Homemade-Cat-Toys/
)
Pictures:


(and darn-it-all, the photographic evidence just got me in trouble. Because we just had a conversation that sounded something like this:

Mr. G: *looking over my shoulder* What's he got in those pictures?
Me: Uhm, a pile of El Gato hair
Mr. G: WHAT?
Me: He wanted to help with the brushing...I had rolled up El Gato's hair so it wouldn't blow away and he came and played with it
Mr. G: *reading blog-not-yet-posted* And he ate it?
Me: uhhh *desperately stalling* Look, something sparkly!
Mr. G: That only works on you.
Me: Oh, right. Well, he tried to eat it. I took most of it away when he started eating it. But he did run off with a wad of it and I couldn't find it anywhere--I guess he hid it somewhere.
Mr. G: Like in his stomach.
Me: Maybe.
Mr. G: And do you suppose that might explain why I've cleaned up puked up piles of cat hair every day for the last 3 days?
Me: Maybe.
Mr. G: You should just not tell me these things...
Me: I didn't tell you! I was keeping it secret and just putting it on the blog
Mr. G: *sounded a little incredulous* You don't think that counts as telling me?
Me: Well, both cats have refused to be brushed for the last 3 days so I'm fairly sure they're done eating and puking up hair for now
Mr. G: Well that's good. We'll just go back to the old system of them licking themselves, ingesting hair that way, and puking it up. It takes them longer that way to get a good sized pile of vomit together.

So, there you have it, rolled up bits of cat fur? not a good kitteh toy. ANd likely to lead to marital strife. I suppose that him cleaning up 3 days worth of kitteh vomit means its my turn to do the cat boxes.)

(ETA: we just found the 'toy'/furball. Or what's left of it. Hidden on a shelf in the library. I've no idea how much of it was ingested but I am officially not responsible for any future puking episodes.)

Reluctant about grooming...

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Mmm, microwave goodies

I apologize, I haven't had time to post and I should have.

But, will cute pictures hold off the hordes?


mmm, what have we here?


I'll take my tilapia raw, thanks.

(please note, the toaster in front of La Doof Kitton?
that lives there because it's not as far for it to fall when he decides to push it down to get to the crumbs)

Eavesdropping

I was sitting in the living room, watching Mr. G make himself lunch today, that this is how the conversation went:

*opens microwave to zap lunch*

Huh, lookit, a cupcake. Why would a cupcake have to live in the microwave?

*gray and white paw appears as La Doof Kitton stands on his hind feet and tries to get a claw into the cupcake.*

Oh no you don't little man. Chocolate is bad for kittehs.

*Mr. G sets his lunch down on the table and gets the cupcake...in that moment, La Doof Kitton goes from the floor to the kitchen table, trying to Bogart lunch...*

HEY! Not allowed on the table!

*La Doof Kitton moves to the floor before he can be moved. Mr. G sets the cupcake on the table and puts his lunch in the microwave*

two minutes...start....

*a gray and white paw appers above the edge of the table and one claw manages to hook into the cupcake paper and start dragging it toward the edge of the table...*

HEY!
*paw disappears*

You know it is all your fault we can't have nice things. And that the cupcakes live in the microwave. and that the cookies live in the oven. And that the dog treats are locked in cupboards.

*La Doof Kitton looks up at Mr. G expectantly, sees no treats are forthcoming and walks to the cupboard below the microwave. He nudges it open and climbs inside, to nest on top of the pudding cups*

Yeah, I give up too.

(and I ate the cupcake directly afterwards to remove temptation from the microwave.)

A Dawg story thrown in for good measure.

I know, I know, this is La Doof Kitton's blog. He shouldn't have to share it with the other pets.

But, truly, I found my write up of this Dawg story funny (yes, I'm easily amused. And yes, I laugh at my own jokes. And yes, I wrote it up already, some of you already saw it--sorry) so I figured everyone could deal. So without further ado:

Why I fired Dawg as my protector.

2 tidbits that are relevant:

1-I don't wear shoes in the summer @ home unless I'm going farther than a 10' radius around the yard. Blame my grandma who thought shoes were a torture device and that barefoot was the way to be. (and no, it doesn't hurt. Feet toughen up fast)

2-there are very few things that skeeve me out bug-wise. Exceptions = earwigs and/or things in swarms. (which makes sense--I don't care how much you love butterflies, standing in 3000 of them can give you the heebie-jeebies. Or at least it can me)

So.

Today was trash day. Last night, i was getting the trash out and Dawg was 'helping' (see Dawg's definition of helping under 'hindering'). So she followed me around the house as I gathered trash [except the basement to do cat boxes--she's still afraid of the monster that eats puppies]. Then she went with me outside and we put all the trash in the container.

Then I moved the trash cart and, as we've had a LOT of wet weather recently, I saw a whole google of earwigs scurrying around. I lost it for a moment. I didn't scream but I had a fit of heebie-jeebies right then and there.

Even Dawg, being the *least* intuitive animal in the house (El Gato is the most, oddly enough. She always knows what we're feeling. She might not *CARE* and she sure as shooting won't help, but she makes it clear she knows), knew I was freaked out. And she deduced that the freak out was directed at the garbage cart. So she placed herself between me and the cart and made funny postures in front of it in order to say "quit freaking out Mom". Unfortunately, she did this while standing on my bare feet. And her nails need to be trimmed.

So, with a few bleeding scratches on the top of my feet, I flee out of Dawggie claw range and go put on shoes--I decided I needed protection between my toes and the devilish murder of carnivorous clawed critters.

I'm warily circling the trash container, eyeing it very suspiciously. Dawg seems to get that something is still bothering me. So since I made it clear that chewing on the trash cart wasn't the preferred answer, she looked for what else might bother me. So she scurried directly though the swarm of evil earwigs and....grabbed a stray leaf. She killed that leaf but good, making it very clear to the neighboring leaves that they should not bother mom. (ignoring the earwigs, of course)

I glared at her a wee bit for not noticing the earwigs she was walking in and out of and Dawg's little doggie light bulb went off...leaves were *not* the culprit. So she looked around to see what else might be getting to me...and she looked at the trash cart, at the seething mass of earwigs and then lit on what must be scaring mom...a pine cone.

The pine cone dutifully destroyed, she ran happy laps around the yard, quite certain she had defended mom against the evils of the yard's natural enemies.

I sighed, watched most of the earwigs disperse, grabbed the cart, and fled the rest of the bugs.

Then I came back to the house to have the heebie-jeebies. And I fired Dawg as the defender against earwigs.

Apparently the cats aren't fond of peppermint cremes.

I've been making things in the kitchen.

And Dawg's knee has been going in and out so she decided she couldn't lay underfoot--to risky. So the cats got to help instead.

I was kneading my peppermint creames (the ingredients in the bowl = lots of powdered sugar, egg white, peppermint extract and lemon juice) and a big poof of 'dough' and powdered sugar landed on the floor.

Dawg saw this and hobbled up onto her 3 legs and headed toward the tasty treats. La Doof Kitton and El Gato got there first.

El Gato arrived just in time for another pea-sized blob of dough to pop out of the bowl and konk her on the head. She, in typical El Gato fashion, over reacted, panicked, and fled. I'm not sure where she went because she hasn't come back out yet.

La Doof Kitton sniffed around. He wasn't interested in the sugar, which makes sense because cats can't taste sweet. But he decided that a blob of minty-sugar was worth exploring...and promptly decided that was a *tremendously* bad idea. He spit it out, stuck out his tongue several times, and sneezed repeatedly.

So Dawg DID indeed get to clean up the floor by herself. Which she enjoyed.

I bought La Doof Kitton's forgiveness only because pom-poms were on clearance in the craft asile of local store. Apparently 2 pom-poms is the going rate for laughing at a Kitton for hating mint.

I heard La Doof Kitton hiss at El Gato...

which is a first.

There is a lot of cat growling and hissing in our house. But it all comes from El Gato. El Gato has the bad habit of hissing whenever La Doof Kitton annoys her. This is perfectly reasonable when La Doof Kitton is doing things to annoy her like chewing on Roscoe (her tail) or tackling her or trying to steal her treats. It's less reasonable when he is doing things to annoy her like breathing the same air, being in the same room, or walking away from her.

Regardless, the kitteh growling in our house stems from one source, El Gato. The only time La Doof Kitton has hissed involved things like tails being stepped on.

Until this week.
This week, we have had bug heaven in our house. I'm not quite sure why but moths have been sneaking their way in. Not a big problem (except some earwigs snuck in and *shudder* they give me the heebie jeebies for no good reason) and it does provide pet entertainment.

I was getting out of the shower and watched a fairly large moth land on the blinds. I asked the Mr. if he wanted to help La Doof Kitton catch a moth for me. The Mr. scooped up La Doof Kitton and showed him the moth which promptly flew out of kitton reach toward the lights above the sink. The Mr. and La Doof Kitton played a very very odd game of 'whack-a-moth' that involved the Mr., holding La Doof Kitton, moving La Doof Kitton into moth range, La Doof Kitton swiping at the moth, the moth moving a few inches and the Mr. moving La Doof Kitton.

Eventually, La Doof Kitton caught the moth between his 2 front paws. The Mr. at that point said he wasn't sure if he had done his good deed for the day or his bad deed for the day...maybe they were the same deed? He set La Doof Kitton down and the moth was not released...the moth was set down carefully, batted a few times, then, lifted into La Doof Kitton's mouth. La Doof Kitton jumped down onto the floor and spat out the moth to take a few more swipes.

At that moment, El Gato rounded the corner and was eying La Doof Kitton's moth with interest. Faster than a thought, the moth was buried beneath his paws and he was making spitting/hissing noises I had never heard before. El Gato thought about what to do for a moment--weighing double what La Doof Kitton does, she can beat him in a fight...until, of course, she lets him up. At the point when she has 'won' and tries to walk away, La Doof Kitton is like one of those obnoxious punching-bag-clowns who springs back upright and tries to tackle her. Which is why she never wins fights--there's always another rount to go (when all she wants to do is go back to napping). She decided La Doof Kitton could keep his stupid moth, she didn't want one anyhow and sauntered away.

La Doof Kitton put the moth back into his mouth and disappeared into the basement. I'm not quite sure what moth tortures went on but, La Doof Kitton did NOT come back upstairs for bedtime treats 15 minutes later (a first). I'm fairly sure things involving hoses and lotions and baskets occurred.

Two hours later, La Doof Kitton launched himself into the middle of our bed for his nightly snuggle (late). I said the pouncing was him thanking us for his 'toy'. The Mr. says that, more than likely, La Doof Kitton was testing to see if the fresh kill had given him super moth powers (he also says that La Doof Kitton will forever claim he caught the moth without human help).

No super powers. Yet. Maybe if he eats a few dozen more...