Jack, my recently adopted 4th cat, will be my last. I won’t be guardian to more felines until one of mine goes over the Rainbow Bridge. And it’s not because I’m afraid of being a crazy cat lady. That boat sailed a while ago.
No, the reason I’m stopping after Jack is because, well, you don’t know Jack. And as it turns out, I didn’t either. Now don’t get me wrong; I wouldn’t change my decision to add Jack to my animal family. It’s just that the more I get to know him, his true personality emerges. Need I say more? (Well actually, yes, or I won’t have a blog post today.) Continue reading →
The weird thing is, it’s an actual cat. No surprise I guess, as I’m assuming the saying originated when someone astute recognized that kittens tend to copy their mothers. Hold on while I google that. Okay, I’m back. Turns out the earliest reference to copycat was in 1887 with no mention of felines. After that it gets too boring for words, so Iet’s move along.
My copycat happens to be my cat Tippi, so named because her tipped ear is severe. Seems ever since I adopted the ever-entertaining Jack a few months ago, Tippi’s personality has changed. And not, might I add, for the worse.
I trapped Tippi in a feral colony 2 1/2 years ago in the small farming and ranching community of Valley Ford. Tippi and her 21 assorted siblings were born under the grocery store. Thankfully, the store owners asked us (Marin Friends of Ferals) to have them spayed/neutered before she had 41 siblings. Long story short, I ended up keeping Tippi after realizing she was a tweener – not adoptable at the shelter yet not feral enough to be content living under the market.
Okay, so I’m feeling guilty about my post from last Sunday, A Slow Learner. You now may have the impression my dogs are a bit dense. Maybe because I said so. But what we learned last week is that I, too, am a bit dense. Apparently we in this house are slow learners.
Having said that, it’s only fair to share both the foibles AND attributes of my 4 dogs and 5 cats. Now don’t get me wrong; rest assured the good outweighs the bad, which helps tremendously on days I want to pull my hair out. So here you go:…CALLIE, my 3-legged pup, is so loving my sister calls her Kissy-Lover because she drenches you in wet ones…When Skip drops his blanket off the end of the bed, and I’m too lazy to retrieve it, I say, “Callie, get the blanket!” She not only gets it, she brings it back to Skip which leaves us both thrilled.
Callie is fearful of most things…When there’s thunder or fireworks, she has to be ON me, not just near me. And she weighs 58 pounds…Callie eats dog poop in the backyard and sometimes brings it inside to snack on later. Continue reading →
If you had your hand on my chest right now, yes it’d be inappropriate, but the point is, you’d feel my heart beating like I’d just seen a ghost. I’d love that, actually. Seeing a ghost, that is. But the reason my heart is on overdrive is because my 4 mutts were just attacked by another dog.
I almost talked myself out of taking Callie, Skip, Wally and Taffy for a stroll because, well, it’s called pure laziness. My days have been so packed lately that when I drag my weary bones home, the thought of moving from my cozy chair is not an inviting one.
Callie and Wally
Still, guilt won me over. How can I relax when 8 eyeballs are glued to my every move? I felt their stares even as I pretended to be asleep. But my unsympathetic mutts were having none of it. So I begrudgingly took them for a walk. Continue reading →
I imagine many people awake in the morning to the scent of coffee brewing, the aroma of eggs and bacon wafting throughout the house, thanks to a thoughtful significant other. Now don’t get me wrong; none of that describes my mornings. For instance, take Thursday morning last week.
You know that sound people make when they’re about to vomit? Sort of a dry heaving that comes in 3 second rhythms until it’s no longer dry? You know what I mean if you’ve ever had food poisoning or possibly one too many Moscow Mules. So I immediately recognized what was happening on the floor of my bedroom.
Go easy on these
You see, my latest mutt, Taffy, has taken to eating cat litter. Just another non-endearing trait from this adorably obnoxious canine. At least it’s corn-based litter, which might be the attraction. But her obsession with it is unwavering and my attempts to block her from that room (while giving the cats access) have obviously proven unsuccessful.