Wordless Wednesday

When cats dream...

Wordless Wednesday

Pet Antics

We thought, oh, how nice, what a lovely time to sit out front on the glider and enjoy the peace and quiet and a little cup of tea. Then, along comes dog, and then Truffle. We are no longer alone. Of course, where there are pets there are pet antics: daring high-wire acts to rescue inside kitties from their captivity, a little rolling around in the dirt, and various sniffing and digging of holes.

So peaceful.

Wordless Wednesday

Percy, wondering if the Easter bunny feels as humiliated with the ears as he does...

Wordless Wednesday

The Helper

"Shawn, what are you readin'? Oh, The Scarlett Letter, one of my favorites. What about that little girl, Pearl, isn't she precious? Just like me, little old Daisy Mae, huh? What do you mean by a pearl grows from an irritant?! I hope that insult wasn't intended for me?"

"How much longer do ya think you'll be reading?"

"You know, Shawn, I think there's a real interesting part somewhere back here...where was that now? Are you going to be writing a paper on this, because I would be a big help picking out the quotes to use. That Dimsdale guy is kinda 'dim' don't ya think? Hehe, purrr."

Hey, Shawn, are you almost done cause I'm gettin' a little bored with this book."

"That's right, we could just play for a little. Mrs. Schmuck, your video teacher, won't even notice you're goofin' around in class. See, she's too involved with her 'real' students to even notice you. Come on, poke me again, this time I'm going to get that pencil, you'll see! I knew you couldn't resist my belly spots and come hither look for long!"

I'll fill ya in on the book later, let's play some more!!"

"Man, all that reading was exhausting. You're on your own with the paper."

A Tale of Three Bad Kittens

These "Three Little Kittens" lounge on the rug-covered, heated, tile floor by the door all morning warming their plump bellies and dreaming of chasing what's just outside.

Clockwise from the left: Truffle, Percy, Daisy Mae.

Outside the door a small flock of juncos picks at the fallen thistle seed from the feeder above.

But what's this, mommy? Why have you teased us so by putting safflower seed right near the door, disturbing our slumber?!

"My, what a fat little sparrow you are and my, what big teeth we have. Will you walk into my parlor?"

Moral of the story: Cats who live in glass houses can only dream of catching birds.

Sun-Drunk Wench

I feed it, and water it, and pet it, and whisper sweet nothings in its little kitty ears and all it does in return is lie around on the carpet soaking up rays and glancing at me with that "go ahead and stroke my belly if you really must" look; all the while knowing she reins supreme and I will continue in my role as her servile companion for the sheer pleasure of capturing this sublime feline on film, dazed and drunken on the rays of the setting sun. Ah, the life of a cat; to be one for only a day. Why do we love them so? It is an enigma. Perhaps only they know the secret of our affections.

The Truffle Saga Continues...

Yesterday, Earle and I took Truffle to the vet. He seemed to be at a standstill in his recovery and was lethargic and not eating properly. As it turns out, he had a fever from an infection. The hind leg he had been favoring was sore due to a cyst filled with puss inside his hip area. The vet kept him overnight in order to sedate him and drain the cyst. While shaving Truffle's hind leg/hip area for the procedure the vet found two puncture wounds. It looks like something bit him and that is what caused the infection. So, he stayed at the vet overnight. He was given pain meds and antibiotics and rested in the air-conditioning. Today he comes home at 11 and then we will be giving him more antibiotics in order to clear up the infection. Earle may need some antibiotics of his own by the time we are done. He will be risking personal injury giving Truffle medication! He does not take it well. We are going with a liquid this time instead of pills. Less risk of finger loss!

Keep praying for our baby, Truffle. He should be on the mend now.

Truffle's Troubles

Two days ago our little Truffle was gone all day and didn't come home until the next morning. Not one to miss meal times, we knew something must be wrong. When he did come home he was hobbling, holding up his right, hind foot. His thin, drawn appearance left no doubt that he was injured and in pain.

After spending a full day hiding in the corners of the living room, having food and water brought to him, and trying to rest through the pain; he is feeling some better today. There is no sign of apparent injury like a broken bone or a bite mark. He is still favoring his hind leg but is putting more weight on it all the time.

We will never know what happened to him, but I sure am glad he made it home to be babied back to health. Earle and I used to joke about fitting the cats with little helmet cams so we could see where they went and what they did. This would have been an ideal opportunity to do just that. Did he fall out of a tree? Get chased by a dog? Get caught in a fence? Fight off a ferocious tom cat? Only he knows, and he isn't telling.

Poor kitty. Time to go baby the little ruffian some more. Say some prayers for Truffle that he will continue his recovery and will have learned his lesson!

Feline Frivolity

Our three little hoodlums, oops I mean cats (Ahem* clears throat), keep us entertained most days with their antics. Their names seem to fit their personalities. Percy, is quiet, anxious, and likes to eat way too much. Each morning he throws up near, or in, his food bowl because he has over-eaten. He is the prettiest one, but is also not the sharpest tool in the shed. Doesn't the name Percy just seem to do him justice? His nickname is pelt. He has a lovely pelt and would look great as a stuffed cat someday on a fireplace mantle. Ok, I know what you're thinking. I wouldn't really....Then there is Truffle, aka: Truffle-buffle or little pisser. He's our bad boy. Let's just say there is a good reason for that second nickname. Last year we bought him a leatherette bomber jacket for Christmas. His given name is descriptive of his color, that of a chocolate truffle candy, but his other names fit his personality much better. Daisey Mae rounds out our little family of felines. She is my son's cat and is spoiled rotten. She is a precious ball of soft grey fur with tan markings around her little muzzle and spots on her belly. With her tiny little fox-shaped head and her extra wide seal-shaped body, she is just too precious for words. It is no wonder she is a spoiled brat! I call her Daisey-cakes. You just want to eat her up in all her sweetness.

What are some of your cats' names? How did they come by them? What do you suppose is their secret name only they know?

The Naming Of Cats

by T. S. Eliot

The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter,

It isn't just one of your holiday games;

You may think at first I'm as mad as a hatter

When I tell you, a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES.

First of all, there's the name that the family use daily,

Such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo or James,

Such as Victor or Jonathan, George or Bill Bailey--

All of them sensible everyday names.

There are fancier names if you think they sound sweeter,

Some for the gentlemen, some for the dames:

Such as Plato, Admetus, Electra, Demeter--

But all of them sensible everyday names.

But I tell you, a cat needs a name that's particular,

A name that's peculiar, and more dignified,

Else how can he keep up his tail perpendicular,

Or spread out his whiskers, or cherish his pride?

Of names of this kind, I can give you a quorum,

Such as Munkustrap, Quaxo, or Coricopat,

Such as Bombalurina, or else Jellylorum-

Names that never belong to more than one cat.

But above and beyond there's still one name left over,

And that is the name that you never will guess;

The name that no human research can discover--

But THE CAT HIMSELF KNOWS, and will never confess.

When you notice a cat in profound meditation,

The reason, I tell you, is always the same:

His mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation

Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name:

His ineffable effable

Effanineffable

Deep and inscrutable singular Name.