Look What We Have

Introducing the newest member of our family ... Jack. (You're shocked at the name choice, I know!) We adopted him from our local animal shelter on Tuesday. I'll have better pics soon. He's a tiny little thing with a bob tail and the biggest purr I've ever heard. Spastic Kitten has grudgingly decided to allow Jack to live, but she hasn't yet decided to forgive him for existing. I have hopes they'll be friends in another few days.

Don't Start Something You Can't Finish

Dear Considerate Neighbor,

I want to thank you for graciously allowing your miniature poop-machine to leave his smelly offerings on my property as you walked by. One would think I would be irritated, but I've reconsidered my initial ire. After all, isn't the act of letting your dog take a dump in my yard a compliment of sorts? It's like saying, "Hey! My dog likes the smell of your grass!" and who doesn't love to hear something like that? I know I do.

Taking it one step further, however, to allowing your tiny turd machine to cop a squat on my walkway, thereby ensuring I would NOT MISS the stinky little trophy on my way to my van this evening ... well, that was a stroke of genius. I mean, if the poop remained solely in the grass, at the edge of my yard, I might miss the slippery evidence of your brief, but memorable, presence in my yard. I might lose out on the opportunity to fully appreciate the incredible gall, er, I mean commitment to peaceful co-existence with one's neighbors which you so clearly have in spades.

Until tonight, I hadn't considered piles of poop on my walkway to be anything other than rude, boorish, inconsiderate behavior worthy of junior high boys and nothing more. I now realize the error of my ways.

Judging by the size of your dog's offering, he weighs a mere six pounds soaking wet. My dog is eighty pounds of Chow hound and is blessed with a very healthy appetite. As soon as I figure out which walkway belongs to you, I'll bring my dog on by to return the compliment.

Happy walking.

C.J.

Our New Family Members

Today we adopted two 3 month old kittens from a local rescue organization. So far, we've established that Tinks is adventurous and Carly is a cuddler. And our 60 pound Chow dog, who desperately wants to be friends with both, is terrified of Tinks' hiss.

They've conquered the downstairs bathroom, with brief forays into the laundry room across the hall for litter box perusal. Tinks even raced into the dining room for a moment before scuttling back to the safety of the bathroom, where she promptly unrolled the toilet paper.

This is Carly, who was a bit camera shy:




Tinks is a beauty with attitude:

Perfect Aim

Early this morning (very early this morning), I woke to the alarming sound of my cat puking. I say "alarming" because she sleeps on me. I have a strong stomach but even I quail at the thought of a face-full of kitty vomit.

I sat straight up and looked around (it's dark, remember, and she's a black cat so she blends well in shadows...)and she wasn't on the bed.

The sounds increased with the inevitable "hork and splat" conclusion and I fumbled around with my bedside light so I could investigate and clean it up.

I found - nothing.

The dog was sleeping beside my bed. The cat was staring at me from the middle of my bedroom floor as if to say, "What, we're getting up now?"

I decided I'd dreamt the entire incident and went back to sleep.

This morning, in the act of racing through my morning routine so I could head out the door, I found the puke.

In my shoe.

And yes, by "in" I bloody well mean in my shoe.

Yuck.

Leave it to a cat to have such perfect aim.