Tuesday, December 27, 2016

The cat sat on the mat

"Look, Ponder, what I got for Christmas from my friend."

"What's that?"
"It's a mat, but I can't use it. I would feel weird stepping on it."
"You are weird."
"Look at it. If I look at it just out of the corner of my eye, it looks real."
"It has a head twice as big as mine."
"You know what I mean."
"You never cared about stepping on your other mat, the little Santa kitten."
"Yes, but ..."
"You keep pushing the vacuum cleaner in its face."
"But ... oh, whatever. You know, I think I'm going to put this one in front of the Stairs to Nowhere."
"Now that's a good idea!"

Guess what Mom's friend got me for Christmas ..... yes, it's mine now, can you tell? Thank you, Mom's friend!

P.S. Of course it's for Greebo, too. It's just that he prefers alternating between bed and couch at the moment. Just saying before I'm being labeled as greedy and selfish here (thank you, Mom, for calling me that ... not!).

Saturday, September 3, 2016


"What's the matter, Ponder?"
"I'm pondering life."
"You do know that your name isn't program? You were named after ..."
"I know, Ponder Stibbons, a Discworld wizard. Because all I am is a wizard who's a nerd that runs a computer with ants in it and wears glasses."
"Yeah, well. I loved the name. Greebo was already taken and ..."
"For a cat that is as laid back as they come while the real Greebo is the terror of small animals and everyone else beside Nanny Ogg."
"But ..."
"Don't disturb me."
"Any thoughts on life yet?"
"I like the odd sunbeam."
"That's it?"
"You interrupted my pondering."
"I'm sorry."
"Yeah, right."
"No, really, I ..."
"Go away."

Dismissed by a cat. I hope they'll put that on my headstone one day.

Saturday, July 9, 2016

My great-grandmother was a shoe saleswoman

It's true, she was. Mom thinks that's the reason why she always stares at other people's shoes. All I know is that for the descendant of a lady who prided herself on her work Mom doesn't know much about shoes. She's wearing the same kind of sneakers all the time and even said she'd wear them in green with pink dots if she could walk in them. And either one pair has to die before she gets a new one out of storage (no kidding you) or there has to be a special occasion.

So the other day she brought in this new pair and presented them to me. I know everything about everything, so of course she was seeking my advice.
First I had a good look.

 Not sure.
 Better do another check.

Ok, that was not TOO bad, so next I tried one on.

Whoa, it's like a small boat. You really must have some big feet, Mom.

How about you trying them on now? Wow, your foot really does fill this up, eh?

Wait, let me check the quality of the shoelaces before you tie them.

Now with claws.

My face of approval.
In fact I think I should keep these myself ..... especially the left one .....

Sunday, June 26, 2016

The Portal or Dream On, Human

There are days when I'm ready to give up on Mom. She's either extremely naive or stupid or she believes in purple unicorn fairies.
This week she came upstairs with a big parcel and unpacked something that looked like ... heck, I don't even know what that looked like.

"Come here, babe." (Lately she fancies calling us babe or baby bear. Don't ask.)
"Did you finally order my computer?"
"I got you something you will like. Well, I hope you'll like it since you like being combed and brushed."
"What ... is .... that?"
"It's a brush arch."
"You gotta be kidding me."
"I know it looks a little small, so let's try it out. You can brush yourself with this when I'm not home."
"I can barf on your pillow when you're not home."
"Is that supposed to be a threat?"
"Is this thing supposed to be a joke?"
"Come on. At least try it out once."
"Stay away from me with this thing!"
"Ok, look now."
"Don't you dare pick me up!!"
"Just walk through it once. Please?"
"Don't you dare putting my head through this thing!!!"
"We can pretend it's The Portal. The Portal through which you visit your furry friends all over the world. Just once. Come on."
"Leave your fingers off me! I said ... don't you ... stay away ... WHAT THE ....!!!!!!!!! Don't ....!!!!!! I officially hate you."
"Just get up and walk through and it will brush you."

"I'm stuck. I'll have to die here because I'm stuck. I can already feel my will to live disappear."
"You are not stuck. I can tell. Don't be such a cry baby. Why don't you give it a chance?"


"You are not going to die, Ponder! Stop being so silly! You can crawl into the smallest holes and be fine and here ..."

"Phew. Made it back out. Everything still there? Foot, are you still there?"
"Your foot wasn't even in there."

"What do you know? You are dead. I don't even want to look at you, you monster. And stop rolling your eyes. I know you are."
"And I know you are sniffing The Portal because I can see it."
"Stop calling it The Portal. You know nothing about The Portal. I would have to kill you if you did."

"Whoa. That was really close. I'm exhausted. I'll need lots of treats to bring me back to my feet again."

"We are not done yet. I still think you will like that once you get used to it."
" ..................!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

P.S. She was being serious. Every, now and then she picks me or Greebo up and shoves us through this thing.
"Ponder, I don't shove you ..."
"Go away, human, and live in fear."

Friday, June 3, 2016

I got balls

You naughty minds you. I mean my knobbly balls.
Mom has been calling me The Nagger lately. She says I'm the most annoying creature on Earth and to stop that special sound that I developed in long, hard hours to make my nagging perfect. She also says that she'd do anything if she only knew what it is I want!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes, with lots of exclamation marks.

It's just that often I'm not sure myself what I want. I'm getting bored or maybe I want her to cuddle me or I'm hungry or my litter box isn't immaculate or I want to play or I want her spot in the bed or I want her to stop binge watching DVDs. I want her wire, I want to lie on her shoulder, I want a head massage or a belly rub. I want some of her cheese and sometimes I just want to annoy her because it's my right as the supervising cat here to want things AND change my mind about them from one second to another ....

If all else fails, the balls come out. Mom just ordered two additional packs for me. She wants them all over the place, so she can always throw one no matter where she is.
We play in the hallway, she's on one end, I'm on the other, and she throws until she runs out of balls, then she has to run around and collect them quickly, so I can immediately lose interest in them once she has found them all because that's how cats roll! ;-)

P.S. Mom read that some people say these balls are dangerous because their cats chew them, but we don't do that. I love my balls, but never try to eat them, and - maybe you remember me telling you about that before - sometimes I'm even being nice and fetch!

Thursday, May 19, 2016

The carpet and the mouse

The other day Mom decided that she didn't want to keep the carpet in the bedroom. She didn't hesitate to tell me her reasons. In fact she had been complaining about that for years.
"I vacuum, you sit on it for two seconds, and it's all hairy again." That's coming from the lady with the long hair that keeps strangling the vacuum's brush, by the way.
"It has been a dumb idea from the start to get a light colored carpet with you guys around." Yeah, hey, was that my idea? I didn't buy this thing (although I do admit it is very comfy), call the guy who did and stop nagging at me for it.
And then the big bang: "You keep puking on it!" Well, excuse me. If cats feel a hairball working its way up, if the cat grass wants back out, and if they only once have eaten a little too quickly ... those are the moments when it's time to retreat to a rug of their choice and do what has to be done. It's what cats do, and it's what rugs are for.
"That carpet has to go. I'm going to roll it up to see how heavy it is."
For once Mom did something right. Not only is the carpet still there, rolled up halfway which makes it kind of fun to sit on it as if you are on a little bench (that thing IS heavy), but she also created a bit of entertainment for me.
I have a sisal mouse with a long tail that is a stretchy, and she managed to roll up the mouse with the rug, but leave the tail out.
I hope the rug will stay around like this for a while because this is fun! Thanks, Mom (and stop rolling your eyes at me!!) :-)

Friday, April 1, 2016

Little boxes

Today it was time for a discussion between Mom and me again. Can you believe that she left me sitting next to the sink and made all floors all wet? My feet are very delicate and there's a few things they can't stand. Water on the floor. Kibbles touching my toes. People thinking it's funny to tickle my foot when it's up in the air while I'm grooming myself.
Then there was the box and that was the straw that broke the camel's back.
If you can call that a box at all. Just look at me trying to sit in it.

"What the heck is that, Mom?"
"It's a box. You have seen boxes before, haven't you?"
"It's tiny."
"Not everyone has as big a butt as you."

"You take that back!!"
"I didn't put it there for you, anyway. It's just left over from when I scanned photos."
"All boxes are there for me and should be the right size."
"Well, there is a big box in the hallway right now you would fit into twice and you haven't even looked at it. As a matter of fact, none of you has been very interested in boxes at all recently."
"You want to know why? I happened to be informed that other cats - cats that are loved by their people - get much better stuff than we do here."
"What other cats?"
"You have three cardboard beds and two more that are not even unpacked yet. You have a big bed, two armchairs with fake fur blankets, a couch and a plushy cave. What on Earth could be better than ALL of that?"
"A nest."

That silenced her of course. I mean, just look at that great nest. Space aplenty. Mulder told me that he loves sleeping in it. Mom's sister ordered it just for him. Mom says she ordered something and this was the wrapping, but what does she know?
She'd better up her game if she wants us to stay with her ...

Saturday, January 30, 2016

Not pretty, but nice

For months Mom has been telling me to get my butt in gear. In fact she has put it a little more rude than that.
I kept telling her that nothing interesting ever happened in this house, that I hated her and that she wasn't even my real Mom (I totally stole that from a meme). Sometimes it is fun to throw a puberty tantrum without having the actual ordeals of puberty to go through.

Now Mom has been nominated on Facebook to share a cat picture each day for five days and she went into memory mode once again and told me Mim's story.

Dude had just moved in a few months ago when Mom and Dad decided he shouldn't be alone all day. So they went to the shelter to have a look at cats.
At first they fell in love with two cats they couldn't take home. Micky was 18. His Dad had died and so Micky, a skinny tabby cat, ended up at the shelter. Mom's heart started bleeding right away, but Micky had been a single cat all his life (no worries, he did get adopted later!). Then there was a beautiful blue cat boy with white markings, but he was FeLV positive, so they weren't allowed to take him, either.
They told the lady that Dude had had problems with territorial cats and that they'd like to take in an older, calm cat. The lady said she had a seven year old girl that could be just the one.
Mom and Dad slept over it and then came back to pick Randy up a few days later.

When they came to the shelter's office to pay the adoption fees and sign the papers, the lady there said "Oh, you are taking her in? Really?" She told them that Randy had already been back twice, once because she bit the cat that had already lived in the house, that she was aggressive and mean. Obviously that made them a little nervous because the lady at the cat quarters hadn't told them that, but they wanted to go through with it after all.
Mom still gets mad thinking about the people who took Randy back and told such things about her.

Not that she was to stay a Randy any longer. They both hated the name, and Dad came up with Madam Mim instead. When Mom asked him why, he said "well, she's not pretty, but nice" (he revoked that statement about her not being pretty later).
Mim wasn't excited about the new place, but still as calm as they had been told she would be. She walked through all the rooms while Dude hid under the wardrobe. In fact he stayed there all night through. Mom who can be a terrible pessimist was close to tears, but Dad said to be patient, and if it really didn't work out, they would have to take Mim back.
That woke Mom's fighting spirit. There was no way that poor girl would be taken back again. And she didn't.

Dude and Mim never became close as in cuddling on the couch, but they got along just fine once Dude found it was time to come out from under the wardrobe the next day. They respected each other and never fought.
It quickly became obvious that Mim must have had some very bad experiences. When she had to vomit, she would hide under the bed afterwards and shiver. She was afraid of the brush and comb at first, but learned to love them although she never managed to sit still during a grooming session.
She wasn't a cuddly cat, but she always had to be close to her people, on a chair, at one end of the bed or at least in the same room.

When the young ones (that's for another story) got on her nerves, she only gave them one quick slap, and she was the only one who was not scared by Fips, the prairie dog, when he had one of his hissy fits.
Not even when she caught Frankenmaus, one of the gerbils who had managed to get out of the cage, she got mad when Mom dragged her out from under the bed.
She never bit anyone, not even during the epic fights when she had to go into the crate for vet visits.

And once, only once, she jumped on Mom's lap and stayed there for fifteen minutes. Mom says that this is a memory she treasures.