What do you love?

Google Search Geek Matt Cutts says that he loves cats.

Photo Friday: Turbo Ball, TNG

Penwiper playing with the Turboball

Yes, it's the newest generation playing with the Turboball, still fun after seven years.

Photo Friday: Hunting Season!

Whitey on Duty in an Open Library Window

Proof this Photo Friday that yes, we still are the valets to three photogenic tigers, not just a frolicking tuxedo catten.

It's been a cool spring in the Pacific Northwet, so our windows have not been open as early as usual. However, it's edged warmer in June. Above, we have our quiet hunter taking in the sights and (finally!) smells on one of the first real nice days of the spring.

Photo Friday: Weigh-In

We've previously mentioned the scale, also known as the Magic Kitty Treat Dispenser. It helps us keep our hunters trim and sleek. However, they have figured out its treat-dispensing properties. This can make it challenging to weigh only one of them at a time...

Don't worry, Penwiper isn't being ignored. He's out of the frame for this picture, but very much involved in the hunt for treats.

The Big Kitten

When I mentioned the contract for welcome home treats, I noted that sometimes only some of the cats attend.  What I didn't note was that if a cat is missing, it's likely Whitey (who will be napping under a quilt),  Oscar, or maybe Penwiper.   Billy shows up.  Period.  Our one true alpha cat has his duties, and he takes them seriously.

Many things make me fret about our boys, but after seven years, very little scares me.   Oscar did scare me a little as the Saturday passed after his poor vet visit.  

Billy didn't show up when I got home tonight.  This gave me a scare immediately.  Hearing a soft sad mew as I started looking round for him didn't help, as Billy doesn't merely helplessly mew, ever.  I started opening downstairs doors, and then headed upstairs to check closets.   I felt better as soon as I hit the landing -- I could see the master bedroom door, and it had blown shut.   Upon my opening it,  a safe and relieved Billy trotted out.

I am reminded just how much our kittens depend on us to keep the Kitten Farm safe for them.

The Kitten Contract

At 6:31 this morning, I woke up, looked at the clock, scanned the bed for cats, and made eye contact with Oscar at the foot of the bed.  I patted my shoulder, and Oscar responded by rising silently, strolling around my feet, up my right side, and joining me for our good morning snuggle.

I wasn't sure I wanted one this morning, but I made sure I asked Oscar any way.    Since Oscar has been sort of the ignored middle child lately, I wanted to be sure that he had his special time with me.

More generally, when any of our overlords keeps his part of a contract, it's important I keep mine.  

That's how, for example, the boys know they are welcome on the kitten desk pillow but not a foot closer if I have the Hiss of Doom in hand.   (The Hiss of Doom will enforce any whim; the contract is that the pillow is always safe, so they don't feel the need to flee the office.)

It's how also have we have four felines in the kitchen when we arrive home, because everybody knows that it's treat time!  (Okay, sometimes, three.   But we get four enough to trust that they all know the contract, even if someone wants to sleep through it.)

Now, if we could teach Penwiper how to snuggle as gently as Oscar in the morning ...

To the Great Ice Floe In The Sky

Our long time associates know that before we were cat valets, we were valets for various plush creatures, especially bears.  Snuffles, the Plush Plump Programming Platinum Polar Bear was (and is) our patron bear of networking.

Thus it is with sadness we note that Ida, the Central Park Zoo Polar Bear, has passed on.