Friday, January 11, 2019

Where's Emma?

Shame on me. I still haven't told you about Emma and Johnny. I'll make it short for now and show you pictures another time instead. There are thousands of them.
Emma (Peel) and John(ny) Steed are the "new" kids on the block. Not my block, but Mom's sister's block, and "new" isn't that new anymore.
You remember Mulder, my pal? We lost him about 1 1/2 years ago which was very hard, but of course hardest for his Mom. She said she didn't want another cat, but eventually it happened, anyway. So when our vet heard of some kittens to adopt, she let us know and we went there to have a look. There were four of them babies, just old enough to leave their mother. The first one that crossed our way was a little girl called Emma, with a pattern much like Mulder which sealed her fate quickly. All the others were tabbies, two mackerel, a boy and girl, and a boy in the classic tabby pattern. The last one had won the heart of the teenager of the house, so the decision fell on the mackerel boy who was renamed into Johnny. Mom's sister was very happy although she had forgotten how exhausting it can be around kittens, hehe. Of course they grew up much too fast for her liking.

Johnny really isn't a gentleman like the TV character who inspired his name. He's mischievous, adorable and a thief. He'd steal food whenever he gets the chance. I have absolutely no idea why my Mom thinks it's a good idea to call him Ponder Two under a fake cough! She says he reminds her of me when I was a youngster, always up to something and a bit of an adventurer (did she mean my latest attempt to escape again a few days ago?). Hm.

This is not about Johnny, though. This is about sweet Emma. She's a little beauty, a bit shy, doesn't like much to be picked up and she isn't a lap cat. She loves to sleep under her Mom's blanket on the couch.
And she's a natural at hiding. Can you find her? ;-)


 

Sunday, December 23, 2018

Christmas Massacre

"What's the matter, Mom? You are looking pale."
"Christmas Massacre, it will be in the history books as the Christmas Massacre."
"Saint Valentine's Day Massacre, you mean. Chicago 1929."
"It's Christmas now."
"What are talking about, crazy woman? You don't make any sense at all."
"Gundel. She's out to get me. I will be next."
"You will be next for what? A hug-me-jacket?"
"This morning I found a parrot next to me in bed."
"A parrot."
"A Steiff parrot! Gundel couldn't get into the glass cabinets for a horse's head, so she used a parrot instead! And then all of them were just lying there on the ground."
"What the ... all of them who?"
"The birds of course! And she did it again. She's obviously a gang member. I should have known. Coming from the street in her nice black suit, all charms and sweet behavior and all the time she just had this planned."
"Gundel a gang member. You are out of your mind."
"A mobster, yes."
"Any evidence?"
"Just wait. This isn't it yet. I put the bodies away, but when I came back into the bedroom, oh, it was gruesome. And this time I took a picture."


"Ah. Okay, that does look a bit, erm, disturbing. And she made the bunnies watch. Who are living under very sad conditions, I should mention."
"At least they were safe from the mobster. I'm not."
"I hope you didn't compromise the crime scene. Do you need me for the autopsy? I'd be glad to help, you know."
"Well, I picked them up and put them into a cupboard."
"You are watching crime on TV all the time, and this is what you've learned from it. Pick'em up and put'em into a cupboard? No chalk outlines, no collecting of evidence. How do you even know it was her?"
"In almost fourteen years you have never done anything like this. I heard her this morning, I just didn't know I was listening in to a massacre. I ... I need to have a lie down."

I'll have to have a serious word with Gundel. I'm still the Godfather around here. It's fantastic to have her as muscle, make no mistake, but now that we struck fear in Mom's heart, we have to advance with great care. Very great care indeed ....

Friday, November 30, 2018

I want to break free

I'm not going to sugarcoat the fact that I am not as young as I used to be. Jumping for freedom over a big parcel that Mom is trying to sneak through the door is pretty much a thing of the past. It was fun, though. I jumped into the hallway and Mom started yelling my name and chasing after me up or down the stairs.
The last time I surprised her was a few months ago, but I let her pick me up pretty quickly. Ever since there are Kosel and Nemo, the gentleman and the madman poodle, are living upstairs, I have become more careful. They never seem to walk, they storm if they hear someone in the hallway, and you never know when that door will open.

This does not mean, however, that I can't jump anymore or that my spirit is broken. Just yesterday ... wait a moment, Mom is calling. I wonder what she wants now.

"We need to talk."
"Isn't that what I usually tell you?"
"It IS a miracle you are not complaining much at the moment. It should have made me suspicious in the first place."
"Hee-hee."
"Don't you hee-hee at me, young man."
"Almost tricked both of you. The cat ladies. The self-pronounced keepers of all knowledge about cats."
"Wait, wait, wait. I never said I even remotely understand cats. No one does. You probably don't understand yourself! Back to the topic now. Why did you jump into my sister's tote?"
"Because I could."

Whoo, making a big fuss about such a tiny matter! You want to know what happened?
Mom's sister came over. You can always tell winter and Christmas are near when she gets out her snowman tote. She put it down on the table and they started talking. Humans don't notice much when they are talking, so this was my chance and in I went. Unfortunately I was discovered before my escape was completed. I wonder how they noticed! When I ducked down completely, it was already too late.





 So in the end all I could do was get out in dignity, playing the incident down and pretending I had never tried to get away.
My chance will come.

Tuesday, July 31, 2018

The red carpet

"PONDER!! Are you trying to kill me again??"
"Me kill you? You kicked me halfway through the room!"

Not an unusual conversation between Mom and me these days.
Let me explain. A few months ago Mom decided to put something on the floor in the bunny room (bunnyless now, but the name stuck). Greebo liked to sleep on the little sofa there, but due to his age he is a little wonky on his feet sometimes, and he had a problem with slipping on the laminate floor when he got down. Mom's sister still had a rug in storage, brought it over and voilà, Greebo didn't slip! Of course the reason for that would be that from this day - that's no joke! - he didn't sleep on that couch anymore. He always refused to tell me why, though.
I liked the rug a lot and often sprawled on it, so although it hadn't been planned, it stayed for now.

A while ago then when Greebo had been to the vet and got some pain medication, he didn't react well at all. He kept falling over, slipping on the wooden floors which were slightly better than the laminate, but still too smooth, and I don't even want to talk about the cork imitation in the hallway. He had such a hard time getting up that Mom got very worried. To make it easier for Greebo, she took the rug from the bunny room and moved it into the hallway and because it wasn't big enough, she used her spare bathroom rug which hadn't even been unpacked yet to create even more of a path. Not pretty, but useful, and it really helped him even after the side effects of the meds had fortunately worn off.

I, however, like to think of this as my red carpet. To be honest, I think there should be a red carpet running through the whole place, maybe leading to all of my favorite napping spots.
Black on red does look fabulous, admit it. And this is my corner. I'm quite particular about my corner.
Now Mom keeps telling me that black on red in the dark is more like black on black and that the day will come when she will really kick me into the bedroom like a football and die herself in the act. It's ridiculous. First, she would never be able to kick me that fur. She sucks at sports. Second, she didn't even die when she slipped on one of Merlin's pee puddles in the middle of the night (don't judge him, he was sick and sometimes didn't make it to the box in time) although she fell flat on her back. Point proven.
It's just a trick to take my corner from me.


Then she started telling me that I recruited Gundel as an assassin's assistant (say that three times very fast). I have no idea whatsoever what she is talking about!


Gundel probably feels the same way, black on red is gorgeous. As long as she stays on the other side, we make an excellent pair - because, my corner, you know.

You want to know what Greebo is thinking about all of this? Well, as long as we leave him alone when he goes to his food bowl (the rug leads to the three table mats for our food dishes), he thinks we are all being, I quote "a bunch of kindergarten kids fighting about inane matters".
I know he can be grumpy with us sometimes, only Gundel gives him a quick one on the butt with her paw every, now and then. And of course he has the little bed under the chair that Gundel and I are not allowed to use at all. Shhh, I did the other day, but only for a few minutes before I was practically dragged off like a thief.
It's okay, he's not asking much even if Mom would get him the moon from the sky if he asked.


Now excuse me ... I gather it's time for a little nap. On my red carpet.
Talk to you soon!

Wednesday, May 23, 2018

One year anniversary

I know, I know. It has almost been a year that I was here the last time. Shame on me. I have a lot of things to do, though, you know. It's not easy supervising this household. Mom is hopeless. Sometimes I wonder how she even finds the way to work. And despite her constant claims and complaints that I "keep invading her personal space by moving too close" she would be completely lost without me. She's quite aware of that, too, she just doesn't want to admit it. If she just gave in to the vibrations of my body when I am lying on her wrist instead of telling me that I'm too big! And too heavy! Quite the nerve from someone who ... wait, I didn't come here to talk about myself as tempting as it may be.

Today is a special day, a day that changed Greebo's and my life in some way, and definitely Mom's life which is pretty easy to do - humans, you understand - but even more someone else's life. This someone is small (at least compared to me), wears a beautiful black coat, doesn't take any crap from anyone, knows exactly what she wants - and moved into this house one year ago!

Yes, I wasn't too certain about Gundel moving in here, but between you and me, things have worked out very nicely. So far she has not tried to take away anything that's mine, not my spot on the desk or in bed, not my food, not my Mom. She likes to be petted and sleep on the designated cat pillow or blanket, she can be demanding if she wants a snack and she lets Mom kiss her, clean her eyes and snorgle her - as long as it doesn't go on for too long. While she loves a good game of fetch, she is also perfectly able to entertain herself with a ball or one of Mom's Easter egg blanks.
Every, now and then we play tag and do what Mom calls the mustang race. She usually leaves Greebo in peace which is a good thing as he is 17 now and wouldn't be able to keep up with her.

Mom keeps saying it was destiny that Gundel turned up in her sister's yard. Back then she was so skinny and she just sat on the window sill and later lay on the bed and had a meal every, now and then. It really was as if she had always been here, and sometimes it is hard to believe it has only been a year.

Gundel, here's to many, many more!

Love, Ponder






Friday, June 16, 2017

I'm afraid of no shark

"Hey Ponder."
"Hey."
"What's the matter? Down in the dumps?"
"I'm thinking."
"Thinking about what? Your miserable life again?"
"Well, there is this new kid."
"I knew we would have this talk sooner or later. Gundel was a stray and needed a home and some food. You, my friend, can afford to give her some of your food. She's not even half of you in weight. Okay, so she is smaller, too. Still. What else do you have to complain about?"
"She's taking my spots."
"Oh, you mean like the spot on the stairs that you were not interested in anymore today after she left it?"
"Yesterday she hit me."
"You did intrude on her string game, and when she left, we kept playing. And hitting is a bit of a strong word, don't you think? She barely touched you."
"Hmpf."
"I love you the same as before, Ponder. She doesn't even take up lap or shoulder time because she's not a lap cat."
"Yeah, she may not be that bad. A bit bossy."
"Which is what I wanted for you, anyway. A bossy girl to poke you a little, so you won't get too comfortable in your ways."
"You like black cats, too."
"Yes, I do."
"She's still dangerous, you know? Just wait until it's time for you to get a bit uncomfortable."
"What are you talking about?"

So I had to show Mom photo proof on what's going on behind her back.


 "I'm afraid of no shark."


"What are you saying?"


Told Mom Gundel was dangerous - and a shark whisperer who sicced those two dudes on her. This is what she's getting for not listening to me.

P.S. I still don't understand how Greebo can be so utterly uninterested in Gundel??

Sunday, May 7, 2017

One bed for two

"We've got to talk."
"Oh no. What did I do wrong this time, Ponder?"
"Not you."
"Oh goodie."
"It's Greebo."
"You can't be serious. Greebo never does anything to anybody, well, except for pulling down stuff sometimes to get my attention."
"He's a squatter."
"Erm ... Ponder, what on Earth are you talking about?"
"It's the bed. The cat bed under the chair. The best bed there is in the whole world."
"The cardboard bed used to be the best bed. The hallway cabinet bed used to be the best bed. Heck, my bed used to be the best bed! Not even mentioning chairs, the top of the stairs or the armoire, the washing mach...."
"Yes, yes, yes. Now it's the bed under the chair."
"That neither Greebo nor you touched so much as with a toe for months and months. I was about to take it away."
"He keeps stealing it from me."
"As you keep stealing it from me if you get the chance."
"You don't want to understand me!"
"How about a second bed under a different chair?"

Humans. Impossible to live with, but unfortunately they have the opposable thumb.
I guess I'm going to go stalk Greebo for a while and make Mom feel guilty because I have nothing but the hard floor to sleep on.