in which La Doof Kitton feeds Dawg more things

wow, I'm an incredibly negligent blogger again. Sorry.

So, twice in the last week, La Doof Kitton fed things to dog.

1-The cheese wrapper
I was having a bout of insomnia. It happens from time to time and usually results in me prowling around the house in the half-darkness and making enough noise to wake up Mr. G and I generally make a pest of myself.
Well, I got hungry while pacing and grabbed a piece of string cheese from the fridge. Because I was pacing I absent-mindedly dropped the wrapper to said piece of string-cheese in the trash can off the kitchen--the one w/o a lid.

The next morning, I realized that Dawg was acting like she had something she wasn't supposed to. I couldn't see anything and I looked and assumed she was acting 'guilty' for some other reason.
But when I went to leave the house, I realized that tiny trash can was knocked over.

I KNOW Dawg didn't go and knock over that trash can because she can't go across the tile and down the step into onto the landing. (okay, maybe she CAN but she won't. Linoleum = lava and stairs in the house = impenetrable barrier). And I know El Gato didn't do it because she actually spent the night in bed with me.
Which means...(dun dun dun)...La Doof Kitton knocked over the trash can, pulled out the cheese wrapper, and brought it somewhere for Dawg to take from him.

(and the good ending is, that made me remember that I had indeedy put a cheese wrapper in there at 4 am. And so I knew what I was looking for. And I retrieved the cheese wrapper before Dawg ingested it--which is MUCH more pleasant than retrieving it after she has ingested it.)

2-The shirt
I have quite a few of what are commonly, in this house, called 'chore coats'. You know, those lined flannel shirts that you wear out to the barn (no, we don't have a barn) to do chores? Most of mine were stolen from my dad (sorry dad) over the years and they live in the front coat closet to grab whenever you need something warmer than just a flannel but not so 'nice' as a Carhartt.

Well, at some unGodly hour like 4am (do you notice how often these things happen at 4 am? why do pets not need things more often at noon? or even 10 pm), it was my turn to take Dawg out when she decided she had an 'emergency' need to go out. I grabbed a chore coat and her leash, headed out into the pouring rain, and tossed the chore coat on the back of a kitchen chair to dry when I came back in.

The next morning, I tried to put Dawg outside and she informed me that, no, she didn't need to go out. Not only had she 'already gone' (at 4 am) but it was still raining...why would she want to go out in that? So I left the animals to their own devices --with El Gato and La Doof Kitton playing "pick in your sibling" and "you can't see me through this cloth--let me hit you while you can't see me" through the chore coat on the back of the chair--while I went about my day.

A while later, I see the coat on the floor and think nothing of it--the cats do tend to knock things over when they play the above games. I also saw Dawg considering laying on the coat--she loves napping on our clothing and while this is one of my nicest chore coats (or, one of dad's nicest chore coats--sorry dad), it wasn't something I cared if she napped on.

Even LATER, Mr. G walked into the room and said "Well Dawg, don't you look all....wait, why are you eating mom's coat?"

Remember I said these are coats you take for chores? well....walking Dawg is a chore. And so, apparently, a long LONG time ago, I filled the breast pocket of the chore coat with dog cookies (we love having pocket sized cookies around).

And...since Dawg isn't quite smart enough to get inside the pocket (the pocket was NOT buttoned. There is a 'flap' but the pocket was plenty big enough to fit a nose into...) she did the next logical thing...she ate the pocket.

So this is no longer one of my 'nicest' chore coats. It's now the one with a giant hole in the left breast. (sorry dad!).
Dawg looked so very disappointed when she realized I was going to take away her new treat-dispensing-bed...but she was thrilled that, upon me grabbing the coat and picking it up, her handiwork came to fruition--since there was no longer a bottom to the pocket, all the crumbs of doggie cookie scattered all over the floor for her to lap up.

Mr. G found this funnier than I did for some reason :-P

Toothbrush

The pets in our house have obsessions.

El Gato has an inordinate fondness for (among other things) the taste of leather and and a dislike for things that lead to mom leaving the house (like work); hence the chew marks on my work shoes, briefcases, portfolios, and belts.

Dawg has taken a shine to wood; hence the bark nuggets she steals from the flower bed, the chew marks on various sticks around the house, her eating of my wood jewelry and her uncanny knack for sneaking into the garage when we're working on a carpentry project to steal scraps and hide them in the back yard (and yes, there are lots of bits of lumber in my back yard).

La Doof Kitton has several things he is fond of but he likes rubber coating. He tried to steal my new scissors with their 'comfort padded' handles. I have to keep my razor out of reach because he has, on more than one occasion, made off with it and attempted to chew off the rubbery grippy things.

I recently needed a new toothbrush and brought one with rubbery coating on part of the handle. This has made brushing my teeth interesting, as he is obsessed with my toothbrush.

So earlier this week, when he was attempting to steal my toothbrush out of my mouth, I decided I needed to document the crazy. I sat down in the office and tried to operate the camera with one hand and brush my teeth with the other...The result isn't a masterpiece of photography but it proves I'm not making this stuff up.
(please ignore the mess on my desk. Yes, he is sitting on paperwork, dilbert comics, and my calligraphy)
(and please apply the caption 'nom nom nom nom nom' to all the pictures ;-)

Puss n' boots

I own a pair or 2 of nice, rather tall boots. These live in my closet, which is off limits to kittehs, because El Gato has decided she likes the taste of leather.
(really. She also dislikes that I go to work. When, after a bout of unemployment, I took my current job, a pair of shoes that had been sitting in the open, a nice leather binder that had been on a desk, and a leather briefcase/bag that had been in the corner started going to work with me daily. These things, which until then she had completely ignored, earned her ire--it was obviously THEIR fault that mom was gone 8+ hours a day now. And all of these items now have teeth-marks in them. Hence her not being allowed in the closet)

Recently, I wore these boots and tossed them on the floor at the end of the day as I was taking off the clothes (yes, please ignore the rest of the clothing strewn about. I can't believe I'm allowing the interwebz to know about my undergarments. I was also wrapping a gift at the time, obviously--and this did successfully distract him from 'helping' me tie bows on it.) I had no idea how entertaining boots could be.

Hmm, what is this?




Now with a kitteh surprise inside!


I have conquered it. Now I shall sleep on/in it.

The Kitty house...

Last Christmas, Sandy Paws got the kittehs a kittey house. It normally belongs to El Gato; La Doof Kitton tends to only get in when it will irritate another member of the house (namely, El Gato).

Recently, said kitty house moved from under one end table to under the one near the electronics in a vain attempt to protect the electronics from the pets--Dawg likes taking her bones under the table to chew on and the cats fight on and under any surface in the house. We theorized that, since animals must follow the same laws of physics we do, unable to occupy the same space as another object, the presence of the kitty house would make it impossible for Dawg to get under there to chew a bone or for both cats to fit under there at the same time. We were wrong (and I'm not sure who broke the DVD player/receiver but broken it is).

Tonight, Dawg entered the kitty house (or at least her head did) to work on her bone

And 5 minutes later, I got to take this picture (which I swear on my copy of James Herriot's 'All Creatures Great and Small' that I did not, in any way, set up--they did this all on their own)
He looks quite content with his bone. And he will probably now kill me in my sleep for mocking him on the interwebz.