Updates... Some Incredible, Some Dreadable

(Sorry for the title. I've been babysitting a girl addicted to the poetry of Shel Silverstein.)

Cat Philanthropy is hosting the Carnival of the Cats this Sunday!

This is also the world premiere week (okay, perhaps that's a bit too optimistic - the blogosphere premiere week) of our sister blog (literally) Cocoa Posts! Stop by and say hello to Cocoa avec une Guimauve as she runs amok with her own blog.

I also need a purrayer or two for Dixie Hiccup. When they took her blood at her checkup, her white blood cell count was elevated. He did x-rays and more blood tests, so it's not cancer or anything like that. Our vet says a minor bug is going around so he put her on antibiotics just to be careful and she's going back in sometime next week for another blood test.

Cassie's panicking that it's her fault, that maybe Dixie contracted something from what Cassie's been feeding her (which is not exactly a balanced diet), but I told her that you can't have any regrets or they'll eat you alive. You have to give them the best care you possibly can and, in the end, remember that you did all you possibly could. Cassie knows I don't always practice what I preach; I still have regrets about my sweetheart doggie Tom and I still want to sue the socks off Purina (he died because of kidney failure from their food). At the end of the day, though, that is all you really can do. I told her that Dixie did not get sick because she didn't have a balanced diet. I said that rib meat from the rib place's doggie bag - no pun intended - did not make her sick, but I don't think she believes me...

Anyway, stop back this Sunday and remember to swing by Cocoa's blog!

Cocoa the Klepto

My nightstand is a glass-topped table, where the glass is not attached to the metal base. I woke up this morning at a quarter of five to:

BANG! BANG! BANG! ... BANG! BANG! BANG!

So I sit bolt-upright in bed. In my disorientated semi-sleep state, I'm thinking either the cats - Cassie now calls them my preschool class - are breaking into something or someone's breaking into the house.

I see these glowing green eyes from my left and I look over to see Cocoa avec une Guimauve on my nighstand, hovering over my covered rubber band. As I watch her, too surprised to say anything, she takes the rubber band into her mouth and jumps off the nightstand.

Do you remember that story a couple years ago about that cat that became a kleptomaniac after his owners had their first child? It would go through other people's yards, pick up their toys and stuff, then carry them back to the child's crib? Disgusting, I know, but that cat and Cocoa must share DNA.

Yesterday my pen somehow went missing. On Memorial Day, it was a bunch of little flag candies. Cassie says her cat Dixie gets up on her desk chair to play with pens and little knick-knacks on her desk in the morning, but never takes things, so she can't figure it out. Over Easter, Cocoa consumed a whole Peep on her own - and bounced off the walls for two days - while she hid the row of carefully detached Peep bunnies that were supposed to go on the buffet display, a chicken that gets wound up and clucks, walks, and lays gum "eggs", and one of my cousin's Barbies. We found the wind-up chicken and her clutch spread all through my bed (Coax even tried to chew on one of the eggs to the point that I had to pitch one of my pillowcases because I couldn't get the gum out) and something like all but one of the Peep bunnies, but that Barbie is still MIA. We've found its bunny-ear headband and both shoes, but, as to the rest of its ensemble and the Barbie itself, we've got no clue....

I have Buster, who thinks the party starts and ends with her, Locket, who's just a love and a dear, D'Artagnan, the kindest little sweetheart, and Godiva, the mother hen (no pun intended). Then there's the kleptomaniac, Cocoa.

Anyone else got a klepto as a cat? Anyone?

I AM DONE!!!!!

After the most grueling round of finals in my life, I am done!

I got home yesterday and all five cats seemed to know. D'Artagnan met me at the door and rolled over on his back as if to say, "I know you're done. Pet me!"

So I spent the better part of the evening on the couch with the window open (screen still closed, of course), with all five on me. It hasn't gotten terribly hot here yet and there was a breeze out so it was really nice. Every time the cats heard a bird, they lifted their heads and listened.

Anyway, just thought I'd share the news.

Also, purrs and purrayers for Dixie Hiccup. She's got a routine check-up this week. I'm putting a special clause in my purrayer that the vet convinces Cassie to put Dix on a D-I-E-T. The much-publicized "Princess Chunk" (later "Prince Chunk") has been getting a run for his money lately... She says Dixie is still growing and needs the extra nourishment. I asked her if a 55-year-old is still growing. She said no. I said Dixie really is 55. She said Dixie couldn't possibly be. I drug out my Encyclopedia of the Cat, perhaps the most useful and thoughtful gift from Cassie's brother John, and proved it. I swear she had the same look on her face as she did when she was eleven and John's friend told her the truth about Santa Claus. "You mean," she stuttered, "you mean Dixie Hiccup's no longer a kitten?"

Cassie always says that if her cat Dixie had thumbs, she'd rule the world. One day Cassie said that after she becomes a successful psychologist or anthropologist (it changes by the day), she'll get Dixie hand surgery so she can go off and rule the world. I said that Cocoa avec une Guimauve and Buster Theodora Baddie would go with her. They have that type of personality, too. Cocoa's a little Napoleon and Buster tries to rule the roost.

-L


Mark your calendars: Cat Philanthropy is hosting the Carnival of the Cats on 6/07!