Until one has loved an animal, part of the soul remains unawakened

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Until one has loved an animal, part of the soul remains unawakened

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Friday, December 27, 2013

Lion Pillow Bed Fit for a Prince

We have been playing Musical Beds, challenging each other constantly.

Timmy has a round pillow bed (with a Lion head!) that he curls up on. CatMom and Kats bought it for him for Christmas.
I understand why. Every one of us has our own special bed, but Timmy only had the space on top of the fish tank to call his own. Though it is warm, it has no softy-ness!

Still... I know the lion pillow is really Timmy's special bed. But, as the Queen, I should have had first dibs on it!

At first, we were all over it every chance we got. Shadow sniffed it up one side and down the other. I've tried it out a number of times. As long as Timmy was asleep somewhere else, we got away with it. Why he doesn't just sleep on it all the time, now that he has it? I haven't figured out!

But Buffy gets nervous if Timmy just opens his eyes. She flies!! It's not that she's scared of him. She's just a flighty cat! Silly Girl!

But, not me! I stand my ground until Timmy gets up to chase me! Then I slip away under the bed and wait! And I come out later when he isn't looking.

Though, now I have been able to sneak up on him and lie down beside him when he is on his lion pillow bed. So, maybe, just maybe, he will relinquish it to me soon.

Maybe if I dub him Prince, he will do the honorable thing and move on over to make room for Her Royal Highness... Me! Looks like I have a chance. See how he's reaching out to me as if to welcome me?

Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Bambi's Birth Announcement

Bambi made it a point to remind me of her birthday today, Christmas Eve. Yesterday she sneaked out the front door by pushing it open and running outside to roll in the dirt. Of course, when she does this, I have no way to coax her home. She's too smart for that.

Following her through the neighborhood only encourages her to roam further as she knows I "have her back". So, as much as it distresses me. I have to just stay in the house nice and calm waiting for her to come home... a nearly impossible task, since it makes me even more distressed pretending that I'm not at all freaked out!

Usually it doesn't take long. There's no thrill if I'm not out there giving her a fun run for the money. She ran around the side of the house, leaped the fence. (OMC! Queen Pudgeball can still leap the fence!) and headed out into the back yard so she could get to the back door by way of the gazebo. Unfortunately, a neighbor cat, Mr. Poppet was sitting there minding his own business (he does that a lot) when Miss Sassy Pants came along. Oh boy, was he ever interested! And she has nothing to get interested about! And she wasn't going to give him the time of day! Bambi made a beeline for the back door and came right in.

Certainly not the end of the story.

Now began the ablutions. She's not an easy cat to bathe. Sort of like washing a turkey in the sink, except the turkey is alive and struggling with sleek, slinky wet fur. So, the best I could do was use a wash cloth to get most of the grime off. After I let her go, she finished the job herself. Thank heavens. And she does it in such a grandiose way, it is clear to me that she believes I have done it all wrong and I should have left her to wash herself... by herself... in the first place. How dare I do otherwise? No wonder she gave me a hard time squirming!

Afterwards she joyfully grabbed up the sock that has the calming kitty hormones inside of it, and dragged it through the house like she would one of her kittens. She sang MomCat Birthing Songs to it very loudly and drove us all nuts. Then, it dawned on me.... cats giving birth sounds.... Birth... Bambi's Birthday! Of course!!!

Queen Bambi Moonrose of Carita Court in the realm of Watsonville California, USA is now six years old! We shall do something special for her today!

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

In Memory of a Ninja

Warming my haunches beneath the lamp
provided for my pleasure
What cat could be
happier?

Poem by Ninja Warrior Moonrose
2000 -2012




Ninja came to us in 2009 at the age of 9. He was a handsome boy who was the glue that kept the whole pride together. It has been a year since he has gone to the rainbow bridge. He is sorely missed and our hearts still ache for him.
 HRH
Bambi

Monday, July 29, 2013

Waiting for the Mousekeeper

Timmy da Timid
Timmy sat in the window all morning awaiting the arrival of Maria. She's the one who comes and tears the house apart, moving all our stuff around. Timmy can hardly wait until she shoves the broom under the fridge and digs out all his mousies he has stashed under there.

Maria smooths out the covers on the bed where we make our nests all nice and soft. She takes that nasty evil vacuum and sucks up all the catnip we have so carefully smooshed into the carpet. Whatever happened to brooms?

She runs the noisy old washing machine and lets it knock and whirl until Timmy and Buffy can't stand it anymore. Usually when that thing is running, they run away to the furthest corner of the house. Chica and Shadow hide under the beds. If the closet has been left open Timmy or Buffy go hide in there.

As for moi, I am not the slightest bit disturbed my the machinations of the laundry room. Er... my royal domain, that is.

I have more sense than my subjects, of course, and I have commandeered the dryer. It''s the most wonderful invention, made especially for royal cats such as moi-self!  Dryers also happen to be a useful item for hoomans to fluff up cat blankets and pillows. They put their towels in there to warm and fluff them up. That makes them nice and cozy in the laundry basket. It really seems to disturbed poor Mom when we lie down on them, so we really have to be sneaky about it.

Queen Bambi disappointed in mouse keeper
We were all disappointed today, however. Maria will not be returning to do any more mousekeeping for us. She stopped by to tell Mom that has found more "lucrative challenges" elsewhere.

How could she possibly give up taking care of our home?

We know she will miss us terribly, of course. How could she not? We are the most special Cats in the world and everyone loves us so much. We will miss her too.

 Especially since we had her trained to give us more treats when Mom was not looking.

Thursday, July 25, 2013

Tabby Cat and the Mousies

Tabby was an ordinary  Calico Cat.  I don’t remember when she came to live with us.  It just seemed that she had always been there darting into corners avoiding the busy feet of the big people in our house.  I was fascinated by her crafty agility and often imitated her as I needed to stay out of the way, also.

Little me on 1947 Crosley Car at the age I am in the story
Dangling precariously, she relaxed in my grasp while I hauled her around and into the safety of the knee-hole desk in the dining room.  As I crouched, comforted by her soft body, she purred contentedly in my lap. We sat watching from our cozy corner while the busy world passed us by.
Mauled as she was by my three-year-old's hands, she never bared her teeth or drew a claw against me, but hung in trusting limpness like a chubby rag doll adoring me with her big green eyes.  Obviously, I thought, she loved me as much as I loved her.  And that was more than I could say I felt for any old stiff-legged Andy Pandy Teddy Bear uselessly standing guard upon the pillow of Big Bubber’s bed!  I wouldn't dare touch it or I’d get knuckled on top of my head by his nine year old over-sized fist.
I held Tabby close, staring into the kaleidoscope of her eyes. “Don’t let the kitty lick your face,”  Mommy scolded.
“But, it tickles so nice,”  I responded, immediately obeying, holding Tabby away from my face.  But, as soon as I was no longer observed, I couldn't stop from snuggling her again. “Tickle-Cat!” I whispered.
Many an early morning, before the rest of the family awakened, I quietly crept out of bed and snooped around looking for my pal. Sometimes, on such a foray, I found her on the windowsill. There, the rising sun, Tabby and I waited, listening for the morning bird songs.  I watched in fascinated anticipation as she balanced on her haunches, her pot belly protruding ludicrously, paws waving daintily in the air,
“Ch-ch-ch-chir-rup!  Ch-ch-chirrrr-up!” She sang; right in tune with the warblers outside. I stood there mouth agape, barely breathing, admiring her.
One early dawn, I awoke to discover that my furry friend was no-where to be found.  I investigated every nook and cranny. But, no Tabby. I dared not call her, as I didn’t want to waken anyone. I really appreciated our mornings alone together  and our freedom from the critical eyes of the big people. Then a glimmer of excitement triggered me to decide to go down  cellar.
I opened the creaky door with a click and, with my nose assaulted by the strange odors emanating from below, I peered into the murky grayness. For a moment, I hesitated at the top of the stairs, wondering if there really were bats and snakes and rats waiting down there to get me, or if Bubber had told me that to keep me away from his play area.  He had been known to lie to me before. Suspicion gave way to courage and logic prevailed. Bravely,  I took one step down and peeked below. The familiar Mason jars filled with last summer’s bounty glowed from the dusty storage shelves welcoming me to investigate further. Greeted by the assuring silence of the shiny new wringer washer, (wasn't making any growling noises today), I quietly closed the door behind me and ventured forth.  I just had to find my precious Tabby!
My diligence paid off; for there in the wicker laundry basket of clean sheets lay my fat furry friend.  I leaned over to pet her, then noticed what I thought to be a wet mouse lying near her. I was so curious, I had to pick it up. I pulled the little sac off its body and set the little mouse on my big brother’s pool table. The creature moved ever so imperceptibly and I gingerly poked at it with my finger.  It must have been the right amount of stimulation, because, just then, its little body gave a tremulous shudder, and its mouth opened, emitting a tiny squeak.
My Mom with her kitty 1934
I was just as mystified as Tabby appeared to be. I looked over at her surprised eyes glinting at me, as if to say “What in the world IS that?”
Then, I noticed another wet bag with a mouse inside lying near Tabby.
“Where are you getting these Mouses from, Tabby?” I queried, as I knelt beside the laundry basket staring at her unusual companion. I Reached over to pet her, and she began licking my sticky fingers.  I giggled. “You, Tickle-Cat!”  Tabby purred her pleasure.
 Then, picking up the second creature, I laid it on the pool table next to the first one.  A moment later, Tabby was vigorously licking a third little mouse, which protested loudly.  Its squealing cries pierced my ears.
“Yuck! Tabby! You’re not going to EAT it! Are you? Incredulous, I  snatched the helpless thing away from her and held it close to me within the folds of my flannel nightgown.
Its cries diminished somewhat until I tried to put it on the table with the others who were tottering blindly among the cue balls.  This last one’s little claws clung to the tangled lace of my gown as its cries piteously echoed off the furnace pipes.  I grew terribly concerned as the other two on the table responded in kind.
“SHHHH! Be quiet!”  I admonished
Worried, I looked to Tabby for reassurance “What should I do?” I beseeched her.  They were being awfully noisy. Noticing their eyes were not open, it dawned on me that they must be crying because they could not see!  These three blind mice were desperately nudging the green felt table pad. I sang to them. “Three blind mice........Three blind mice......See how they run......”  I picked up another mouse from Tabby’s laundry basket and clutched it to my chest.  This one suspiciously resembled Tabby; Same pretty colors splashed across its body.
Suddenly, as though antennae were attached to my head, something warned me to stand very still and listen carefully. I heard the sound of a click and a creak. Then, my mother’s voice tentatively intoned my name.  Shivers of panic itched down my spine. I silently crawled beneath the pool table, as she padded down the cellar stairs in her blue satin mules.  Her brightly flowered robe gently swished across the cold concrete floor.
“What are you doing down here?” she queried, as I watched her blue veined legs approach the table.  I did not respond.  Since  I believed myself to be well hidden, I presumed she had directed her question to Tabby.
The only response she received was a multiple chorus of mewing.
“Well, for Pete’s sake!” She exhaled. And in the next breath, “You get out from under that table this instant!!” I don’t believe my mother’s voice has ever unnerved me so deeply since that moment.
My mom with Pepper Cat 2006
I cowered as she stamped her foot, and carefully backed out away from her, emerging on the opposite side, with the table safely between us,  still clutching the little nudgling. My chin rested against it as I hung my head in guilt and stared at the evidence. Had I been caught red-handed? I wasn't sure what I had done wrong. But, judging from my mother’s tone, I was positive that Tabby and I were in deep trouble.
“You don’t have to look so scared,” she reassured.  “I’m not gonna bite you.” Then, more gently, she explained, “It’s just that when baby kittens are born they should never be touched or taken away from the Mama Cat.”
“Kittens!”  I exclaimed in wonderment.  “I thought they were mice!”
My mother’s blue eyes danced with delight. She tried to maintain a straight face while she carefully lifted each vigorously protesting baby kitten off the table and placed them next to our feline Madonna, who happily took them to nurse.
That was about 1948.  Now that I’m older and, (hopefully), wiser I find that I am still totally amazed when I contemplate this early and impressionable experience.  Why Tabby reclined there, placidly, among the newly washed sheets as I disturbed her first-born litter will always remain a mystery to me.
From: Niagara's Child by Elizabeth Munroz

Note:
Sorry, I don't have a picture of Tabby

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Cat Purr Healing

Thank our lucky stars! It has been a quiet day around here.


Mom finally burned herself out and has been resting. Shadow said she looks tired.



Queen Bambi says we have to look for every opportunity to jump up and sit on Mom. 
We've got to keep her down. 



Timmy says we have to make her rest for her own good. She looks a lot better now.


They say kitty purrs are healing. We know they are!

Saturday, July 13, 2013

Gypsy and Raven - 3

(Continued from part 2)
That night Magic slept with Gypsy on the pillow by my head. He was even more lovable than Gypsy and they adored each other. Magic was sleek and long, and tall.  He was the Abe Lincoln of cats!  When he stretched himself out, he could reach the top of the kitchen counter and watch me chop onions on my cutting board.  He was the sweetest cat there ever was!  I think we got a good trade.

From that point on, Gypsy decided to become the grouchy one and wouldn't let people pick her up without growling at them. But I knew she was faking it, as she would also purr, at the same time. Purrhaps she was playing a game that she was her evil twin sister, Raven, come back to haunt us.

She loved to be petted and taken for rides in the car. We often stopped at the Burger King to buy french fries for her. She sat on my shoulder by the front window as I ordered and paid for the french fries. Then, when the fries were handed into us, she would greedily try to swipe them out of my hand. This always gave the Burger King employee a laugh.

Gypsy had big round golden eyes that reminded me of the old-fashioned head lamps on early locomotives. Magic’s eyes were a deep orange. As they grew older, their eyes began to change color until they were indistinguishable. Gypsy had a full round head. Magic’s head was long and triangular.  Between the two of them, they produced five adorable little copies of themselves.  I found homes for them all. Magic was the perfect Daddy Cat.  He got right into the box with Gypsy and bathed the kittens every opportunity he could. Gypsy, like most new mothers, seemed to appreciate the father’s participation. She was a gentle mom cat. When she began to wean her kittens, Magic let them nurse on him. I mean literally, nurse on his tiny little male nipples. As soon as I found homes for the kittens, I took Magic to be neutered and planned on getting Gypsy spayed the following month. But the money didn’t come fast enough and she went into heat. I should have gotten her fixed first! Even tho’ Magic was neutered he tried everything he knew how to do that he did before. But it was not enough for Gypsy. I guess she knew he was shooting blanks!

A cat in heat can demand a lot of attention and yowl a lot. When we were not at home, I put her in the basement. But, was dismayed to discover her outside when I returned. She had climbed through a slim hole beside the plumbing that led into the neighbors side of the basement. (We lived in a duplex) The neighbor dogs barked like crazy as she calmly walked along the furnace flue to gain access to the outdoors. The neighbors, concerned about the ruckus their dogs were causing, opened their cellar door only to have Gypsy fly out. They did not know she was in heat, so they let her go outside!

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

Gypsy and Raven - 2

(Continued from part 1)
One lovely spring day, as Raven sat in the bedroom window looking out the screen, the window suddenly fell shut. It happened so fast, I couldn't save her. Caught between the closed window and the screen, she clawed through that screen in a flash and was gone.  Who knows where? We never saw her again.

Perhaps adopted by some unsuspecting souls in the neighborhood, she became the bane of their existence.  It was almost a case of Good Riddance. (I said almost) I never before had a cat that treated me as though she personally despised me.

I couldn't just let her go unsought, though.  I did miss her!  So, I made up some posters and plastered them all over the neighborhood.  LOST, BLACK CAT, YELLOW EYES, ANSWERS TO RAVEN (etc.).  About the time I gave up on ever seeing her again, a little old lady called me on the phone in response to our ad campaign.  She said her son had found my cat.

“I’m pretty sure she is yours based on the description in your flyer, about six months old, female,,, looks like she might have some Siamese in her.

“Great! I'm so glad you found her and called! ” I said, “If you’ll give me directions to your place, I’ll be right over to take her home.

“Oh, that won’t be necessary.” She giggled cheerfully. “My son will bring the kitty to your place.  He’s already got her out in his car.”

The way she described her neighborhood, I wasn't sure I could find it, anyway. It was getting dark out and I wasn't feeling like driving through unfamiliar territory. Her address seemed so unfamiliar to me. I wondered how Raven got there. So, I gladly gave her instructions to our apartment.  A short time later her Sonny-boy arrived.  A linebacker for any NFL football team would never have gotten past this guy!  He was BIG!  There,  contentedly purring, nestled in his huge ham-hock arms was my little black shiny Raven.

“Gosh!  She looks so tiny!  She must have lost weight.” as I gathered her into my welcoming embrace.  “Thanks so much for bringing her home!.  I can’t believe she’s actually purring!”  I was thrilled that she seemed so glad to see me. Maybe her sojourn in the outside world had taught her to appreciate coming home. I knew Gypsy was now bigger than her sister and the Top Cat problem would be solved. Maybe we could settle down into a peaceful household.I came back into the living room and with a happy smile, announced to my family,  “Look!  I’ve got Raven!”

My husband glanced up and said, “That’s not Raven!”

“Of course, it is” I responded, a little surprised at his attitude.

“No!” He stated, “That cat can’t be Raven.  It’s letting you hold it without trying to rip your face off! Raven never purred before,either! And...” He added,”that cat is just too small to be Raven.”

I began to think he was right. Just then, Gypsy, who had been enjoying her freedom ever since her sister’s disappearance, came traipsing happily into the room.  The kitty in my arms suddenly leaped down to greet her, nose to nose.  No growling or spitting occurred. That made me really suspicious.

“Besides,” with a rueful grin, he said “That kitty is a boy!”

The obvious signs of masculinity swung beneath the tail.  “How could I have been so stupid as to not check that? We've been duped!” I shrieked, ran to the door and looked out on the empty parking lot. The Hulk had gone!

That’s how Magic came into our lives.

But, that's not the end... click here to continue

Gypsy and Raven - 1

First, there was lovable Gypsy, also known as Egyptian Queen Nefertiti. Born Halloween of ’88, I adopted her on my son’s birthday, two weeks before Christmas.  Gypsy had thick, black-satin fur, and she was built stocky and sturdy like a butterball turkey. The woman I got her from wouldn't let me take her unless I took her sister too. She said they belonged together. Different as night and day, they definitely were not twins.

Raven, also known as "She, of Whom Hell Hath No Fury",  was a black cat, too. Sleek, slim and pointy, as though descended from a Siamese, she was the meanest cat in the whole wide world!  If you tried to pet her or pick her up, she growled and swatted at your hand. Haughty, beautiful, and hateful, the evil queen in Disney’s Snow White movie had nothing on her. The perfect witch’s cat, she was unmercifully cruel toward her sister.

Obviously Gypsy became my favorite, but Raven wouldn't let her near me. If I paid any attention to her, Raven would corner Gypsy and growl at her. I figured they would have to work it out their dominance issues, and at first, didn't interfere. But I grew tired of Raven’s nastiness and decided to lean things more in Gypsy’s favor, so that she would become the Alpha female.

I began feeding her lots of extra food. Since she was more muscular, I thought she would simply grow bigger and stronger than Raven and the change in dominance would just happen by default. I also got Raven spayed, with the plan to have Gypsy done later. Shortly after that Raven decided not to stay with us anymore.

What happens next?
Click here for part 2 

Thursday, January 31, 2013

Tootsie the Terrorist

An update on the New Queen, by the Cat Slave, Elizabeth

Tootsie the Terrorist Cat
I have been enjoying my new kitty. Tootsie. I have mentioned her in the last couple postings, but will reiterate. She's a Manx Calico and I swear she's some kind of dwarf cat. She is so tiny! Two years old, had kittens in October. I realize her being so thin could be from feeding kittens but she's been with me a couple weeks and plumped out, but weighs about 6.5 pounds.

There have been four accidental introductions. But, she is so aggressive and in the flick of a cat hair she's in attack mode.

First, was Timmy. She slipped through my legs as I entered the bathroom where she was residing. Since he was nonchalantly strolling by and totally unaware of what I was doing (his usual state of being) she went ballistic! Before I could move he had hightailed it through the house and ended up cowered in the kitchen window behind the curtains. Tootsie hadn't been in the kitchen before, so she was looking around cautiously when I caught up to her and got her back in the bathroom. It's odd... I haven't seen her have her fur standing on end.

Next was Queen Bambi. I made sure all the cats were shut in the bedroom. But, Bambi was having none of it. Finally, I was able to put her in the spare bedroom by herself. Unfortunately, I didn't make sure the door was latched tight and Bambi clawed her way out just as I was entering the bathroom. Same scenario, except Bambi headed for her sanctuary queen bed on top of the dryer. Needless to say that came crashing down along with a number of items throughout the hallway. I can do a pretty mean tigress hiss and that puts the fear of Dog into them. So, I was able to gather up the New Queen and put her away into the spare room.

My Maine Coon kitten, Shadow, (9 mo old) is three times her size, of course. But, he is terrified of her. He was victimized next. He follows me around like a puppy dog. I should have known! I got all the kitties into the bedroom. Door latched securely. I had Shadow in the kitchen and gave him his food. He was happily munching away when I went to the bathroom to pick up and carry the New Queen into the spare room so she could have some space to roam. Unbeknownst to me, Shadow had followed at my heels. Tootsie broke from my arms and the rest is history. I've got to give Shadow credit, though Even though she got a mouthful of fur before he headed under the bed, he spat at her with fervor. Once I got her back into the bathroom, and got down on my hands and knees to coax him out he was okay.

Timmy is 3 yrs old but outsized by Shadow
It wasn't quite so bad with Buffy da Bampire Flayer. She's been skulking around a bit since Tootsie arrived and cuddling up when I'm asleep. She's insecure about the whole situation I can tell. However, Buffy is the only one making friendly overtures towards Tootsie, by hanging out near the cage and making cute sounds toward her, even turning upside down for her from the safety of the tower while they each stared each other down.

However..... when the two had their encounter, it was no better than the rest. I have to face it. Tootsie is a Terrorist! You will notice... spelled with a capital T.

All this time I've had her and I haven't been able to get her acclimated yet. The best I am able to do is move them from room to room so they all get to smell each other, eat out each others food bowls, use mutual litter boxes. That's all working well, knock on wood. Nobody is peeing where they aren't supposed to.

I moved Tootsie out of the comfort of the bathroom and only use it for her temporarily now. I've got the cage in the living room and Tootsie is housed (er.. incarcerated) there. It's about four feet by three, by four. So, Tootsie is able to be in the midst of things without terrorizing them. She doesn't have to feel isolated. Even if the other cats are off snoozing somewhere she gets attention from me, and from The Monk, and a little bit from those who visit. She has food, water and litter box as well as three shelves to be on, plus a comfy bed. The Hilton it is not, but it's the best accommodations I can provide to keep them all safe from one another

Add caption
I realize of course, it's "mama hormones" making her so fierce, but she ought to be back to normal sometime soon. Seems to me. She's been spayed. I'm using Feliway spray. Buffy seems the only one close to ready to bother to put up with her stuff. She keeps hanging around the cage and making friendly overtures even after their confrontation where I broke them up with my Tigress hissing/growling act. It confuses them and diffuses them.

 If I pick up Timmy and walk anywhere near the cage while Tootsie is in it, he stiffens into an arching, hair shredding mess! But, he doesn't struggle to get away. If I loosen enough for him to jump down, he curls into a tight ball and squeaks, "Hold me! Hold me! Protect me from the evil deemin!"

Friday, January 25, 2013

I Still Miss Him


In Memory of Ninja

Little Ghost cat,

Your footsteps pit-pat

In the hallway of my mind

The kiss of air, whisper-soft purr;

I hear the echos of your purr;

See your pouncing shadow everywhere....

And smile through my tears.

Author Unknown

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Princess Tootsie Wild Kitty


So far the "New Queen" is not acting very friendly.

We had hoped she and Bambi wood be the best of friends, both being Queens and all.

Bambi say that Tootsie (that's her new name) is more like a spoiled Princess.

And for some reason, that's what Mom calls her too. At least. that's what I herd her tell The Monk.

She told the Vet her name is Princess Tootsie. So I guesses, Queen Bambi is right.

But me, Buffy and Shadow likes to call her just plain Tootsie.

We knows why Bambi don't like Tootsie. It was when Mom did the changeover. We all get to change rooms so Tootsie can get used to her new home and to smell us everywhere and know we live here too and not strangers.

The other day Princess Tootsie gotted out the cage real fast under Mom's legs and first thing she did was go after Bambi a growling and a screaming.

I never see fat old Bambi run so fast! They was all over the place.

Mom was able to stands between them when they stopped for a breath taking time.

She very brave! She pick up Tootsie like she was a precious sumpin' or other and carry her into da back room... our kitty room, and shut the door.

Then she go into the kitchen and pick up all the stuff that gotted throwed all over the floor.

Bambi has very hurt feelings cuz while they was running and screaming like Banshees, they pull down the royal red carpet and Bambi's special Queen bed off the dryer where Bambi get all warm all the time.

She say that her private sauna. And she say Tootsie dessa-crated her private sauna and queen bed. But, really, we thinks both of them did that.

While Tootsie was in the back room we all took a turn to investigate the cage. Maybe she like us more if she smell us more.

Monday, January 14, 2013

Caged Cats

Hey there! Hi there! Hi-dee-ho there! It's me! Timmy da Timid1 Guess whut? Queen Bamibi has made me "Lord of da Manor!" Ain't that the coolest thing ya ever heard? I not sure whut dat means, yet. She gonna tell me more. She say since Ninja gone, she need me to step up and take on my royal duties to her majesty. I can hardly waits to find out whut she means.

We been having lots of changes with our new kitty in da house. Let me tell ya how dat is going. Ya see, Shadow allus gets fed inside the kitty cage where he lived when he first came ta live wif us. Dats coz we not allowed ta eat his baby food. But, Mom forgot to close da cage door da udder day, so Buffy and I gots to look around inside.

Checking out the feeding area!

We been waitin' pashuntly for our new Queen ta make her akwaintance and finally Mom brot her outta her "confinement". Her was not happy 'bout it and her screeched at Shadow who dint know no better than to walk right up ta her and stick his nose at her! I barely got a look at her and decided to go hide away.

Queen Bambi made it quite clears what her thought of it when Mom brought the new Queen out to be in da cage for a while.

Bambi shows her displeasure!
Mom did dat for two days. Then, because it been so cold ouside in the freezing air in da house, her brought the new Queen into the cage to stay overnight in da living room. Mom wrapped it up in a blanket so we can't bother her and her can feel safe and warm, sez Mom. Da new Queen, she like dat, and don't screech at us no more.

First appearance of the New Queen!

Sunday, January 13, 2013

The New Queen

I hesitate to report that there is an INTERLOPER in the house!!!

Mom thought we wouldn't notice? That's what she thinks! Well, I'm no dumbie! I know what I sniff and it's a cat! Another cat!

Darn it Mom! Aren't we enough for you? Do you have to rescue every poor pitiful kitty that you stumble across?

Yes, yes. I can tell by the smell, she's a Queen cat, too! Thank heavens Mom didn't bring her kittens along with her!That would have been more than this Queen could bear!

She also has that strange medical smell that I once had on my soft underside. That was when I "got fixed"! My tummy was sore for a while there. And I suppose that's how it is for the new Queen. Obviously, she needs to recover. She doesn't need to be surrounded by the four of us right now. Poor thing!

I presume she's our new family member, and not just a visitor. Mom is pretty picky about who she lets into my home. She knows I wouldn't tolerate a parade of strange animals.

Well, except for the birdies she once brought home. But, of course, they were only temporarily visiting until the neighbor came over and got them.

My goodness but they were messy! They scattered bird seed everywhere. At least the outside birds we feed at the feeders clean up after themselves. Our visiting birdies were pretty, though. I have to admit it. But, they didn't sing out in our favorite high pitched songs.

So, even though they were interesting, we were not curious enough to have them come out of their cage and play. Mom had been a bit nervous about that. But, she had nothing to worry about.

The fish, on the other hand... we LOVE the fish! They are so fascinating! Mom calls them Angels. They don't have any wings. And certainly, they do not fly as angels might. Nonetheless they are beautiful to behold! Shiny silver so mesmerizing with black velvet striped patterns. Mother Nature has blessed us with such creatures!

As for the new Queen. I'm not so sure she will be a blessing. I haven't seen her. Haven't been that interested in getting acquainted. Haven't even bothered to introduce myself through the closed door. .

Shadow says she growled at him when he took a peek at her. Mom was entering the room to give her food and attention, when Shadow approached the open door. The new Queen took one look at him and went into Mother Tiger mode. She can't help it, you know. She still has mommy hormones in her. I'm sure of it. As I did, too. It made me protective even after my kits were gone on to their new forever homes.

Shadow has no manners! Well, what can one expect?He's only 8 months old. I haven't yet had the opportunity to take him under my tutelage. Once she feels more comfortable here I will greet her properly... one Queen to another

I've heard her purring when Mom goes in and sweet talks to her. She's a mystery to me. Shadow says he didn't get a good look at her, but he thinks she could be related to Buffy da Bampire Flayer. I wonder what the new Queen will be named.