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| Penwiper With A Scratch On The Tip Of His Nose |
Friday, August 31, 2012
Photo Friday: Failure to Communicate
Why no, Penwiper didn't get the message a scratched nose should send him. Three weeks after the last incident, Penwiper got scratched again this past Sunday. Whitely probably delivered it, as he was staring at the couch with a nervous Penwiper under it when I found them.
He's one smart cat, but clearly not interested in the lesson at hand claw.
Friday, August 24, 2012
Photo Friday: Penwiper by a Nose
Earlier this Month, it was clear that Penwiper put his nose where it got in trouble with a housemate.
Fortunately, it healed with no scar visible under his fur, so Mr. I'm-Too-Sexy-For-My-Fur's winsome "come pet me look" modeling pose is unaffected. One hopes his respect for his housemates was affected, but not really expected.
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| Penwiper and his Scratched Nose |
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Oscar's big adventure
Ever since we moved into the Kitten Farm West, we've been dreading the day one of the cats decides to explore the garage. But we always thought it would be Fearless Billy, or Door-darter Whitey. Not Oscar. Oscar would never do that!
Yep, guess whose tail I saw vanishing into the garage as the laundry room door closed behind me when I came in last night. Yikes!
The good news is that we have a very strict protocol: the garage door must be closed before the house door opens. The bad news is that Drew was expected home at any moment, and would unknowingly push the button to open the garage door automatically.
(The intelligent thing to do would have been to call his cell to warn him. I wasn't calm enough to think of that.)
Being Oscar, he instantly decided the garage was a Bad Place, and hid under the MINI. Under the exact geographic center of the MINI. It's a small car, but not that small: I couldn't reach him. He ignored kitty treats.
There is a moment in every frustrated parent's life where they say "F@#% it, I don't have time for this!" and resort to brute strength to get their recalcitrant child to do what they want. With Drew's arrival imminent, I stuck a broom under the car to chase him out.
He hissed, he growled, he ran straight for the house door. Which was closed. When I got close enough to open it, he ran back under the car. I chased him out again... we played that game a couple of times, then I got to the door fast enough to open it and he went through as if shot from a cannon. Right through the other three cats who were hovering on the other side of the door.
He's none the worse for wear. He even ate dinner normally, which surprised me. Often that kind of trauma sends him into hiding. Here's hoping he's learned his lesson.
Yep, guess whose tail I saw vanishing into the garage as the laundry room door closed behind me when I came in last night. Yikes!
The good news is that we have a very strict protocol: the garage door must be closed before the house door opens. The bad news is that Drew was expected home at any moment, and would unknowingly push the button to open the garage door automatically.
(The intelligent thing to do would have been to call his cell to warn him. I wasn't calm enough to think of that.)
Being Oscar, he instantly decided the garage was a Bad Place, and hid under the MINI. Under the exact geographic center of the MINI. It's a small car, but not that small: I couldn't reach him. He ignored kitty treats.
There is a moment in every frustrated parent's life where they say "F@#% it, I don't have time for this!" and resort to brute strength to get their recalcitrant child to do what they want. With Drew's arrival imminent, I stuck a broom under the car to chase him out.
He hissed, he growled, he ran straight for the house door. Which was closed. When I got close enough to open it, he ran back under the car. I chased him out again... we played that game a couple of times, then I got to the door fast enough to open it and he went through as if shot from a cannon. Right through the other three cats who were hovering on the other side of the door.
He's none the worse for wear. He even ate dinner normally, which surprised me. Often that kind of trauma sends him into hiding. Here's hoping he's learned his lesson.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Photo extra: Visitor kitty is visiting
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Take Your Spawn to Work Day
A modern office offers lots of ways for cats to get themselves in trouble: cords to play with, papers to chew on, mugs and other objects to knock over....
None of which have really been a problem with our crew. We have to shoo them away from the wires now and then, and gently remind them not to stand on keyboards when the humans are trying to type, but for the most part we've had a pretty good record of office co-existence.
Or we did, until this afternoon, when Spawn of Basement Cat (aka Penwiper) decided to interrupt Billy's transit across my desk. I wasn't watching, so I'm not exactly sure what happened, but next thing I know my half-full tea mug is lying on its side, and a pool of tea is threatening to engulf the stack of bills I was working through.
No permanent harm done. The crash caused both cats to vacate the premises while I cleaned up the mess, and through sheer luck I was able to get everything important out of the way. A formerly white hand towel was sacrificed to the cause -- between the tea and a tissue with some fountain pen ink on it, I'm pretty sure it's a rag now -- but no damage to either electronics or important papers. Whew!
None of which have really been a problem with our crew. We have to shoo them away from the wires now and then, and gently remind them not to stand on keyboards when the humans are trying to type, but for the most part we've had a pretty good record of office co-existence.
Or we did, until this afternoon, when Spawn of Basement Cat (aka Penwiper) decided to interrupt Billy's transit across my desk. I wasn't watching, so I'm not exactly sure what happened, but next thing I know my half-full tea mug is lying on its side, and a pool of tea is threatening to engulf the stack of bills I was working through.
No permanent harm done. The crash caused both cats to vacate the premises while I cleaned up the mess, and through sheer luck I was able to get everything important out of the way. A formerly white hand towel was sacrificed to the cause -- between the tea and a tissue with some fountain pen ink on it, I'm pretty sure it's a rag now -- but no damage to either electronics or important papers. Whew!
The Annual Turbo Ball Post
It's time for the often annual turbo ball post.
Not really news, but I still get a kick out of eight year old Whitey occasionally giving it a good flogging, which he did this morning.
I think it was a draw. Again.
Not really news, but I still get a kick out of eight year old Whitey occasionally giving it a good flogging, which he did this morning.
I think it was a draw. Again.