Olive and Mabel vs. Gundel

If you don't know Olive and Mabel, you may think that they are new additions to the household, but you would be wrong. Olive and Mabel are labradors who live with some Scottish sports commentator, and obviously Mom is a fan.
Oh yeah, the self-proclaimed "cat lady" watches dog videos on the internet which we all know has been invented to spread the glory of felines.
I know, it's pretty unbelievable. She fooled so many people for so long.

The other day I caught her watching this.



Not only did she laugh, but she also had the impertinence to look at me afterwards and ask me what I was going to do around the house. She brought up the old joke - Greebo and Ponder had warned me about this when I moved in - of tying a little brush to my tail, so I could deal with the litter I am allegedly spreading all throughout the flat. At least I hope for her that it was a joke.
If she expects me to put together furniture for her, she's in for a huge disappointment although I understand where it comes from. You should see how she put together the little chests standing at the end of the bed. It's rather pathetic.

The betrayal gets even more real, though. Every, now and then she comes in from the hallway smelling like dog breath. It's in her clothes and on her arms and sometimes on her face. Ugh, it's disgusting.
I know she's cheating on me with the poodles upstairs. White woolly yappy sheep, what's the attraction, I'm asking you?! She could kiss some luxurious silken black fur instead. If I let her, that is. Can't spoil the human too much. Greebo and Ponder had spoiled her rotten with hugs and kisses and hanging out with her, and now I leave her alone for a second or two and the next thing she does is watching dog videos!

I know what I have to do. I'm going to hide in one of the dark spots where she can't find me easily and listen to her walking back and forth calling for me and getting more and more desperate. Every time she's convinced I dematerialized or found a Gundel size hole in the door or behind a cabinet.
Then if she gets lucky and finds me, I'll get up, turn my back on her and walk away. That should teach her.
And then, after all the apologies and promises that she'll never do anything like this again, we'll talk about the hole in my food ...

Relationship status "It's complicated"

Isn't it unbelievable? You try to kill one, two, maybe thirty Steiff wool miniatures over a few months, and not only Mom - just for the record, she's not my real Mom, I bet my real Mom would understand me - moves the cabinet with the woolies, so I can't get to them anymore (that's what she thinks), but she also accuses me of having "relationship problems".
Hey, I'm not the one having problems, just because I won't glue myself to her the way the boys did. I'm an independent cat lady, Mom should have understood that by now.

Then she comes up with old stories.
"Six weeks ago, Gundel."
Yeah, like I said, old stories. She gives me that look that she thinks is stern and will impress me. Dream on, old lady. "Tell them about the bat, Gundel."
The bat. She'll never forgive me "the bat incident".

Mr Black Batty appeared in early August, a very handsome guy. A child of the night, just like myself. Black felt and oh, he smelled so good, like valerian root. He wasn't much of a talker, but he was nice to be around.

We hung out in one of my favorite spots under the table and it was inevitable that we finally got closer. Exchanging stories about the moon, sharing secrets, gossiping about Mom, the things you talk about with another child of the night. We became instant BFFs.
It was just annoying that Mom kept hunting us with the camera. I swear there's no privacy in this house (although I found a great place now, in one of the armchairs under the big fake fur blanket, there's even a cat bed with a small blanket in there, but that's a different story).

Well, and then, you know how it is ... things got a little, hm, more passionate. I can't help it that Mom is such a dainty flower. I have teeth and claws and little spines on my tongue, and Batty just couldn't keep up with that being felt and thread.

Things may have got a little rough, and eventually the Batster may have, erm, changed a little.

"Changed a little?? Gundel, you killed him. You said you were BFFs, but that's by far the shortest 'forever' that I've ever heard of. It was not a pretty sight. He hadn't even been filled with the valerian root! They were just in a bag together. What would you have done with him had he been filled up?"
"Gee, lady, what's all the fuss! Bats come, bats go. It's nature."

That's the moment when she shows me this.

What can I say? Those were two really fun days, and it was worth it. For me at least.

You want to know what happened next? Mom got me a new ... whatever. Not a friend because yeah, who cares if I'm lonely.
She got me a cigar instead. A bloody CIGAR.
Sorry for cursing, but honestly, what is going on inside that head of hers? I'm not sure all that self-isolation is that good for her ....

Keeping the memory alive

Hi!

You have read about me before. I'm Gundel.
If you wonder what I'm doing on Ponder's blog, well, that's a sad story.
As you know Ponder wrote his last post in September. Not long after that he had a dental appointment and not long after that he became sick. It had nothing to do with his teeth, but he kept losing weight and not feeling well which broke Mom's heart. Be assured, however, that he stayed Ponder until the very end when Mom had to let him go in February.

It has been five months now, but the hole is as large as it was on the first day, and there are still tears flowing.

So, Ponder's footprints may be too big for me to step into them, but I've got my own footprints, and that's the way it should be.
The memories stay - not just of Ponder of course, but all the other cats that Mom keeps telling me about (shh, I am kind of glad I never had to fight things out with Meffi, she sounds as if she was some tough kitty) - and Mom and I will make new memories together. For that I thought it was just right to stay on Ponder's blog and not start a new one of my own.

So I hope you will keep following our stories.
It may not be as loud here anymore, but we will still be having fun.

Love,
Gundel

P.S. Mom is accusing me of sleeping on the job. Now if that isn't a fine start to this ...

She called me a thief!

Let me make this very clear first. I am not a thief. I was here first. I have been the supervisor in this house for 14 years. Gundel has been here for a little over two years.
I have been very generous from the start. I shared most of my sleeping spots, I shared my food, I shared Mom, and it wasn't always easy. I'm a gentleman.
And now I am being called a thief just for taking back the Stairs to Nowhere. It's unbelievable.

Here's the story ...
Once upon a time there were the Stairs to Nowhere with a little platform at the top. The top is quite close to the ceiling and the platform is just big enough to make a wonderful sleeping spot. There's no pillow there, not even a blanket, but it's still perfect.
All of us have been using that platform over the last seven years which is when the staircase had been cut off. While Mom can come up the stairs, she's way too big to do it comfortably, so she only does to sweep down our hair and remove one or the other hairball.
I hadn't been using it for a while because I had discovered Wardrobe Island.

Okay. When Gundel found the Platform of Undisturbed Sleep, I was fine with that. I didn't think, though, that suddenly I wasn't allowed to use it anymore at all without being slandered. Yes, Mom, I am looking at you! Calling me a thief when this whole thing is actually your fault!

Mom has an a/c unit standing in her bedroom. She doesn't use it most of the time, so then it is in a corner and it's from there I jump up on the wardrobe. Now there were a few really hot days when she did use it for which she has to pull it further into the room, but from where it is too far from the wardrobe. AND even though those really hot days were over, she still left it standing there "just in case". A case of laziness if you ask me.

Last week there were a few more hot days which I like to spend on top of things. If you don't take away my path to the top of things, that is. So yes, I dared to claim my old haunt on the stairs while Gundel was sleeping on Mom's pillow in the bed (who's the thief here?). Then the little lady got up and went straight for the stairs ... and stopped on the first step looking up at me ... and dropped almost right in the spot in one of our favorite sun spots and fell asleep.
Obviously she had no problem with this, I mean look at her, does she look anything but relaxed to you?
Mom, though, haha - you should have heard her nagging at me from her desk underneath!

Of course I played it cool. Call me Mr Cool. Ponder Cool. With the license to sleep on the stairs. Take that, Mom.

SOS! SOS! Mayday! Help! Whatever!

"Is there a way down here, Flossy Blue?"
"Not for me, pal. I have been stuck here forever, just like my brothers. A quick dusting is all I get, but no water for us poor fish."
"Water! I didn't even think about that! In this heat I'll probably die of thirst up here!"

"Ponder."
"And does Mom care? No, of course not. SHE has water and food and everything she wants."
"Ponder."
"A poor little cat like me, though? And it's disgusting she's leaving you guys up here."
"Ponder!"
"What?!"
"Mister, you got up there, you'll get down. You always do."
"You could help me, you know. Just because I once want to take a little nap in peace."
"Once. Right. You know I can't help you down. I'm too short, and even if I got out the big ladder, I wouldn't trust us to be safe on it together."
"I've seen you on a ladder, you may be right about that."
"I've seen what you weigh, so you would probably play your part in us both dying. And being eaten by Gundel."
"How dare you??"
"Stop the whining and jump on the a/c like you always do. Be glad I didn't move and turn it on yet or you wouldn't have had a nap up there in the first place."
"That's easily 20 feet!"

"Oh geez."
"Don't you oh geez me!"
"It's not 20 feet and you know it. I'm leaving now. You never make such a fuss if I'm not in the room."

I swear the lady is gonna get it when she least expects it. Can you believe she actually didn't help me? Made me jump into the abyss instead??
I only wish I could have taken Flossy Blue and his brothers with me ...

Master of the screws

That's my new title. I already have so many, not all of them sounding as grand as this one, though. Supervisor, studio manager, most wonderful cat in the whole wide world, dark master, it would take too long to list them all.
When Mom got a visit from her sister yesterday, however, I could tell immediately that once again I had to take over another task.

They were cleaning out a cupboard that was full of stupid stuff. Paint, screws, instruction manuals, screwdrivers, a strange machine and a lot of little bitty things ... and more screws. And screws. A lot of screws. Mom may have some screws loose, but certainly not that many. To defend her, this had not been her cupboard, she was left with it and just couldn't get herself to clean it out really good. She kept saying she was afraid everything would just fall out, and guess what, that's what happened! Well, not everything, but something did fall.
Now her sister said she'd come to help, so it would go a little quicker.

When they were through, they moved the last two containers of screws to the table with them, picking out the odd nail (I remember when Mom desperately looked for nails once, but couldn't find any among all the screws), this and that, but they were so slow.
It was clear they needed me for supervision or they would never get the job done. Of course I also needed attention very urgently, and I don't let a few metal thingies take attention away from me!

So here we go. I told them what to do and how to do it, and that did the trick. Afterwards I took a well deserved nap on my cat tower.
Those humans are so helpless, what would they do without us??

An unhappy client or I need space

"This is ridiculous."
"Did you say something, Ponder?"
"The walls are not even high enough."
"Ponder?"
"What is she thinking? I need space."
"Ponder, what is the matter? You muttering over there in the bunny ro.... oh, there you are. Haven't seen that in a while."
"This is ridiculous."
"Yes, you said that already. What is?"
"This tiny house fad."
"Tiny house ... Ponder, have you been watching TV without me again?"
"How much do you want for this? Is it for sale or for rent?"
"Is this some kind of role play? You seem to be mistaking me for Jenn. Jenn's the realtor, not me. This is a box, Ponder, the box that had your litter and food in it."
"Some furniture would be nice, but it doesn't even have a roof. At least it's bigger than the last few you showed me."
"I didn't show you any tiny houses or boxes for that matter. I may have been a little slow in cutting up the last ones, and yes, they were smaller, but that is ..."
"How do you heat this thing?"
"Not at all."
"No heating? What kind of agency are you running, lady?"
"Well, there isn't a roof, so heating doesn't make much sense, does it? What I can do for you, however, is put a cardboard bed inside and put a blanket on as a roof, would that help, Mister Stibbons? Pillows are extra, plumbing is outside. There's a restaurant only a few steps from here, by the way."

"Not a good one, I've heard. Lousy selection."
"Unhappy with the food, the accomodation and what else?"
"You have been taking up a lot of space in bed lately. Not acceptable. And last night you have pushed me off my space on the desk ...."
"Oh. So that is what this is about. I knew it would come back to haunt me. Look, I'm sorry. Sometimes I just need a little room."
"Do you now?"
"Yes, I do. Oh, for God's sake, come on. You can spread your bi...beautiful self all over the desk if you want to."
"Have you learned something from this?"
"I did. Always cut up boxes right away."
"What?"
"Just joking, just joking! Let Ponder do everything he wants whenever he wants wherever he wants."
"Good. Don't forget it. You are allowed to pet me now."

Honestly, why is it so hard sometimes to train a human??