Photo Extra: The Mist of Clean

One reason Whitey likes my desk is not only it has the Silver Kitten Warmer, but the 30" flat panel also provides a nice toasty glow. (He must like it, for all the fur he sheds rubbing on it.)

As Whitey was exploring my desk this morning, the sun happened to hit the monitor when it was mostly black, and this pointed up how poorly I've cleaned it in the ten months I've had it. It was bad, really bad, immediately grab old soft t-shirt and spray bottle of water bad.

Which led to a lesson on how smart Whitey really is. The bottle I grabbed is normally referred to as the Mist of Doom, and when merely pointed at one of the boys can it send them fleeing from the scene of a crime. This morning however, parked on the Silver Kitten Warmer, Whitey clearly respected the Mist of Doom but was quite unafraid -- he probably read my body language and realized I wasn't hunting errant kittens today.

How comfortable was he? As soon as the monitor was clean and I started writing this post, he helped write. (That's the middle of this post on the screen above his head.)

The Feline Workout

Last night, headed upstairs for the evening, I decided to grab a few extra wanded cat teasers hiding in the front hall closet and take them upstairs. It wasn't a mistake, but we had serious scope creep.

In particular, we didn't have a extra "few" teasers, we had 10 of them. Sorting them evolved into pulling them out of the closet, untangling them, and tossing them into sorted piles on the floor, where the quality assurance team (Billy and Whitey) checked them out.

Whitey in particular was interested in the feathered wands, and after a basic play test I handed a wand to Katherine for Whitey to hunt on the stairs, while I chose a pom-pom ended wand for Billy to hunt on a cat tower. The end result was for the first time since we moved west, we had both boys seriously engaged in extended play in the same room.

It really only wound down when it seemed that Whitey was favoring his left rear leg. We had Whitey run several short sprints (kitty treats are quite useful for this), but the results were inconclusive. An hour later he was chasing his brother at full tilt, so we don't think he did anything serious.

Katherine and I agree, a good plan is more feather teasers for our resident bird watcher so he can work on his conditioning.

Photo Friday: Tigers roasting by an open fire

The boys approve of the Kitten Farm West. It has many features that were lacking in the original Summerhill Kitten Farm. Carpet, big windows for birdwatching (and a wide variety of birds to watch), even a fireplace. They don't think we use the kitty roaster nearly enough, so Christmas morning was a special treat for them.



(That's the hearth off to the left. We have a picture that shows the actual fire, but thought it was misleading because the boys appear to be awake.)

The Stench for a New Year

Billy reminded me this morning that I should have posted that on Monday night there was a hairball found at the border of the living room rug and the Christmas tree apron (soiling both, I might add).

How did he remind me? By leaving another hairball in front of the bedroom door at 4:40 AM this morning.

Thoughtful, that cat.

Yum!

While we were out yesterday evening, the boys found the bedroom kitty treats.

We found an empty bottle.

We don't know if I left the drawer open or not. We're hoping I did, the alternative is too scary to consider.

Oddly enough, the boys were not nearly as excited as they normally are at dinner.

Photo Friday: A Cute Little Devil

For the return of Photo Friday, we present the boys' newest cousin, Maverick. Maverick and his sister May were found abandoned as new borns north of Boston in August. Our favorite veterinary tech adopted them and hand nursed them.

Alas, May didn't make it. Maverick, however, makes enough trouble for two; our friend describes him as Satan in fur. A really cute one, at that.

New Heights (not!)

The recent changes to Katherine's office did not include access to the new speaker shelves themselves. Today Whitey sat on the scanner next to Katherine's desk, glazed up at the new shelf some five feet up ... and meowed, sadly.

Sorry, Whitey, even if it was low enough there's not room for you and the speaker too.