Barking Mad

Sick Day

Today has been a rough one for Gaby.  She hasn't been ill in such a very long time and now she has both external and internal ear infections.  She is so little but the pain is so big...so much so that all she wants are her mommy, daddy and her buddy.

Her buddy rarely leaves her side on a normal day.  If she cries, he comes running.  If she's laughing, chances are, he is the cause, and if not the cause he can't wait to get into the middle of whatever it is that's making her giggle.   Her buddy always sneaks in for one last hug goodnight and if he was allowed, he'd sleep as close as he could to her.

Since the day we brought him home his chosen person was always her.  Whether it was mischief or merry making, these two would always be at the scene of the crime. I think it was a sign, the first time we went to the farm where he was born, we walked into the breeder's kitten room and Gaby sat down and he came to her immediately...

Since that day, these two have been thick as theives. Her buddy doesn't even mind being subjected to hours upon hours of children's programming or endless viewings of The Sound of Music and Mama Mia!

Late this afternoon as she lay back against the pillow and comforter that I had draped over the sofa, she whimpered and as the tears fell down her petal-pink cheeks I heard the familiar soft footfalls across the hardwood floor.  A moment later he was rubbing himself against my shins and looking at me as if to tell me he was on duty now and all would be well with his precious princess.

In a single beautiful leap of white, ivory, and cocoa fur, and bushy deep mocha colored tail, he was at her side.

No more is he the kitten he was a little more than a year ago when he first joined our family.  But his bond with her is stronger than ever.  I think he'd even chase away her bad dreams if he could.  Geronimo is her buddy, her best friend, and her comfort when she's not feeling her best.  I wouldn't have it any other way.

 

Seriously? Don't I Already Have Enough Stuff on My Nightstand?

I crawled upstairs, bleary-eyed and wanting nothing more than to take a nap this afternoon (seeing as how Gaby didn't manage to fall asleep until 3AM this morning!), walked around the side of the bed and bent over to plug my cell phone into the charger in the wall and place it on the nightstand when I noticed more crap than usual on said nightstand...

all photos brought to you courtesy of my droid...great phone, not so great camera!

Pardon the askew lampshade.  It's the furball's fault.

My nightstand is already piled high with books, a clock, lotions and potions that make me smell like the Pillsbury Dough-boy after he's been rolled in vanilla and sugar, some seashells and other odds and ends.  Now there was a huge orange furball to add to the collection.

I looked at him and said, "Griffy, honestly!  Get down before you knock the lamp over and cause me to have a heartastroke!"

I don't know what exactly it is in my tone of voice when I chastise Griffy, but the other large, white and cocoa colored furball always comes running whenever he hears me howl at Griffy.  He insists on sticking his nose into everything!  Before I know it, I have not one feline nightstand accessory, but a pair!

The swish of that huge fluffy brown tail of Geronimo's sent the alarm clock crashing to the floor behind the nightstand and the lotions and potions went flying everywhere!

I'm not sure why I was so surprised that Griffy has decided to commandeer my nigthstand as his new hangout.  After all, he seems to think he's the perfect household accoutrement in almost any setting...

Actually, both of them do!

 

Why?

Because...well because quite frankly I can!

And well, because I'm sitting here writing a new post about the recent immigration policy debate in our country.  I'm tired of trying to sit on my hands and stay quiet.   So, while I'm venting and trying to gather together some frustrations and string them along into words that form cohesive thoughts and arguments, you can enjoy how I torment my cats!

Sometimes I can't believe they let me get away with this, but then when I wake up tomorrow morning, there will probably be a present on the floor next to my bed and a cat butt in my face.

Dry Clean Only!

The past week has been a fustercluck of bugs (Just you wait my pretties, do I have a post, WITH PICTURES, for you!), financial woes, (I know, get in line!), more bugs, missing Meg something fierce, and trying to wade my way through a ton of emails after last Tuesday's post, (has it REALLY BEEN THAT LONG SINCE I'VE POSTED?), that were a combination of thought provoking, angering, amusing and downright ridiculous! 

Thank goodness for my husband, the kid, and the cats...I'd probably be drowning in a vat of Coca Cola and crushed ice (sheesh, as hellaciously hot as it is, that almost sounds pretty good!), if it weren't for them.

I was in the middle of doing load 9 of 27 (you think I'm joking?  I only wish I was!), and about to toss a load of wet clothes into the dryer when I was stopped dead in my tracks by the sight that greeted me.  All those wet clothes landed on the floor with a fwop!

 

"Geronimo!  What the..."

   

"Geronimo!!! Get out of there, right now!  Come on!  GET OUT!"

You can tell how much good all my begging and pleading did.  He tried to use the inside of the dryer as a hamster wheel! 

 

Seeing as how my powers of purrrrsuation had no effect on him, I resorted to waving a piece of cheese in front of him...

 

He got as far as looking at the cheese seriously, meowed at me, as if to say, "Well woman, what are you waiting for? A CATastrophe?  Give me the cheese!"

So I picked him up, and very sternly told him, "Now listen here furball, stay outta the damn dryer!  You're DRY CLEAN ONLY!"

ETA...Hmmmm, I seem to be very fond of parenthesis lately.

 

Coming Clean About Why We Brush Our Teeth in the Shower

Some people like to combine all of their morning tasks into as easily manageable a routine as possible and that might include brushing their teeth whilst showering.  I've even heard of some people who shower with their dogs too, in order to get Rover clean all over.  To me, that might be taking time-management skills a little too far.  Besides, there are just some things my pets do not need to see; me in the shower is high atop that list!

I'm as eager (but hey, I have my limits...like I said, Rover will not be letting Calgon take him away anytime soon, at least not in this house!), as the next person to exercise my multitasking muscles.  However, when I'm in the shower, I have a system which includes the basics...getting clean and occasionally running a razor over the bits that need deforestation.  Adding anything else to this daily routine is just asking for trouble. 

Sometimes though, allowances must be made when situations crop up and those "situations" can not be encouraged to budge. 

In this instance, we've been forced to alter our showering habits because of a "situation" that absolutely refuses to be moved, and if moved by force, will almost immediately return to where it was happily "situated" before being so unceremoniously relocated.  Because of this, we now brush our teeth in the shower...

 

   

I just hope that I don't accidentally end up shaving my teeth and brushing my legs!