Tiggie, a Faithful Orange Cat

Got through the surgery.

2010-09-16T22:48:00.000-07:00

I did wind up having surgery last Thursday. Two vets said that removing the cancerous salivary gland would cure my situation.

It better.

After the three teeth removal, and then the ear polyp removals, I am done with surgery.

This is how I looked a few days before surgery.

I was checking out all the new flowers in the back yard.

This one was pretty. It was orange.

I think orange is the best color for flowers.

But gray is a nice color sometimes too. Not for flowers, but for other cats, like my buddy Hart and my old friend Mac.

We both have the same color eyes. Blondie keeps saying that she really likes that about us.

Since the operation I pretty much have been keeping to myself.

As you can see...the surgery was pretty messy. My mane was shaved off, and a band of fur on my ankle too. Then there is the cut. I can't see it, but everyone keeps saying it looks awful. I just hope the fur grows back before it gets too cold around here.

At least I am getting extra greenie every day.

And now I get to go anywhere I want to go too.

Even the guest room.

Blondie said so.

And Bernie agreed.

Not so good.

2010-09-06T13:57:00.000-07:00

Sorry I've been neglecting my blog fellow felines. Its just that I've been having some medical issues lately. First my ears were driving me nuts, so Bernie took me to see the vet. The vet said I had a yeast infection in my ears, a very rare thing for a cat to have. Bernie was told to put drops in my ears a couple times a day for six weeks.
SIX WEEKS?
Yish. It was awful.

When my ears didn't seem to be getting any better, back to the vets we went.
The vet looked at my mouth and announced I had an abscessed lower fang, and it would have to come out.
Turned out that three lower teeth were abscesses. Yeah, my mouth had been bothering me a bit, but I didn't want to complain.
My ears were checked out, and it turned out not to be a yeast infection (all those wrestling sessions with Bernie for nothing...) but polyps that had blocked the ear canal.
So now Bernie had to put some horrid tasting antibiotics in my mouth twice a day and some other kind of ear drops.
I started to hide a lot, but Bernie found me each morning and medicated me.
It was hard to forgive him, but usually I was over it by the afternoon.
My mouth really did feel a whole lot better. It was so worth it to have those teeth out!

But meds didn't seem to be helping with the left ear. Worse...there was now a pea sized lump aside my throat.
Back to the doctor. He said the polyps would have to come out to let the medicine get in and work. The lump was likely just a lymph gland swollen due to the ear infection.
He would do a biopsy when he was removing the polyps.
The ear thing was done last Tuesday, it was no big deal. The bandage was a bit of drag, but it came off soon enough.
I was swallowing a lot, and occasionally gagging when I came home though.
Four days later, last Friday, the lab report came back.
I have salivary gland cancer.

Please purr for me if you think about it.

Bernie and Blondie have already paid a lot for the teeth and ear, and they both say they don't want me to have pain or suffering.
Some cats have their salivary gland removed and they live for another year and a half.
I'm twelve now...maybe thirteen. When I lived with thirty other cats the guy lost track of how old I was.
Its been a really good life with Bernie and Blondie.
Right now they are waiting to talk to the doc to see what he thinks could be done.
I'll let you know what happens, OK?

I think I'll just stay here...

2010-03-31T18:27:00.000-07:00

Oh, I guess I'll take a nap, maybe bat the bizzy ball around.
You go ahead and enjoy your ski day.
I'll be here when you get back.
Have fun!

The TRHO came to visit me....

2009-12-12T19:56:00.000-08:00

Miss Kitty's TRHO came out to Utah to see me yesterday.

It was a nice visit...I showed her around my place, and let her admire my orangeness, which was quite similar to her own orange hair tones.

She knew exactly how to rub me the right way.
Miss Kitty has trained her well.
To be perfectly candid, I probably made a fool of myself over her. I just adore tall red haired women!

Even her boots were just right for rubbing against.

I rubbed extra hard...Miss Kitty will be able to interpret the secret message that I sent via my whiskers on the TRHO's toes.

The TRHO innately understood how much I like my tail fluffed up!

There was one unfortunate moment though.

The TRHO got rather carried away...and reach down and swooped me up against her chest.
For a moment I was so surprised I let her hug me and pet me.

Blondie was watching and said she couldn't believe I would let TRHO do that.

Blondie was right. I wouldn't.

As soon as I realized what had happened, I pulled my head back far enough to look the TRHO straight in the eye with THAT look.

Miss Kitty must have also taught the TRHO a bit about cat communication. She looked at me, and slowly said "Oh kaaayyyy", and then very gently and carefully put me down.

That was a wise move on her part. I didn't have to make my point again. A few moments later I rubbed against her leg to let her know she was back in my good graces. Before many more moments had passed I was back to making figure eights around her and letting her stroke my head and back...and even to the tip of my tail.

Miss Kitty: Thanks for letting the TRHO come to see me. Someday Blondie will come and visit you at your place.

Giving people reason to travel is just part of why God made us don't you think?

Personally, I can't think of any other reason why someone would want to come here, except to see me.

Oh and Hart? He is such a scaredy cat. He came walking down the hall when she arrived, and raced off to hide under the bed.

What a putz. She has always said she thought Hart was rather handsome and sweet.

Now that she has spent time with me....well...maybe next visit Hart will come around. And if he doesn't...whatever, she will still have me to admire.

White bellied types

2009-11-22T20:14:00.000-08:00

Hart's belly is white. He is always trying to get a little color by laying out in the sun on the deck.

I personally think it is undignified.
I usually just walk past him and try not to look.

Yish.

Who does she think she is?

2009-07-14T08:54:00.000-07:00

There's a cat who keeps coming by our place.

She sits on the deck or on the deck railing every morning now. She and Hart got to be friends the first time she came by in the garden. Hart and she touched noses like old friends and then they strolled around the garden together.

When I came outside, she came up and touched my nose too.
I think she is awfully forward.
It made me pretty uncomfortable when she did that.
I've been stalking her ever since...'cuz I'm not sure she is who she says she is.

Bernie gave her greenies. Then he talked and talked with her, while we were stuck inside WITHOUT any greenies.

Another reason I'm not so sure I like this gal cat.

Bold as you please...staring in our window!
She doesn't look like she has missed many meals, if you know what I mean.

She rubbed on our screen.

That's pretty forward too.

Later on she camped out on the deck. I went over to give her a once over.

I had to think about all this for a bit.

Then she started rolling!

What is THAT supposed to mean?

Eventually she wandered off, and Hart and I settled down for a morning nap.

Maybe tomorrow I'll know what I should do about all this.

Yeah, that's it.

I'll think about it tomorrow.

Them's is the rules...

2009-06-27T14:28:00.000-07:00

If it is on the bed...we get to lay on it.
That's the rules.

(Hart: Yeah...that's the rules!)

Good choice!

2009-06-24T06:47:00.000-07:00

They did a good job of picking colors around here. Matched my eyes, threw in some all important orange...

Even Hart got a pillow that matched him.
There has been workers here all the time the last five months, and I've been very busy snoopervising all their tasks.
One day they even let a dog into the house.

The black beast raced into the back bedroom where Hart and I were taking our second morning nap.

Not to brag or anything...but I let that dog have it, smacked his nose, raked his behind when he turned to run from me, then jumped on his back and kept clawing.

He picked up speed, and I dropped off...chased him down the hall, into the kitchen, across the deck, through the garage and out to the curb.

Stupid dog.

Anyway, it has been nice and peaceful since all the construction work is done. Oh and there was a HUGE party here too. I got to hang out with everyone...got some chicken and pork off of a lot of plates by just standing there and looking at the plates.

People are such pushovers for green eyes and orange fluffy tails.

More after our naps.

Maybe.

It comes...it goes...but where????

2009-05-19T09:29:00.000-07:00

You know what? This place that we got moved to is really strange.

One day it is hot. Then it gets cold. Then there is white cold stuff everywhere.

Later on the white stuff disappears.

I don't get it.

The stuff was everywhere. Then it was just gone.

Now it is hot again. I can see a little of the white stuff up on the mountains still.

They used to be completely white, and now they are green.

Me...I'm orange all the time.

Find a color and stick with it is what I always say.

Hart really liked the white stuff. He used to run around in it even.

(Hart: That's because I've got snow boots. I blend right in with this stuff.

Orange Tiggie? Not so much. He's just jealous of my boots. They are perfect for keeping me warm in the snow!)

Vigilance

2009-05-14T20:44:00.000-07:00

My Uncle Rufus out in La Jolla is still standing his post against Iraqi cat invasions.
Are YOU still doing your part where you live???

Snoopervising

2009-03-27T09:54:00.001-07:00

Sister came into town, so I was showing her which boxes needed to be opened first.

Open this one Sister!

It's in my chair.

She opened it, but she did not move it, and I WANTED TO SIT IN THE CHAIR!

What's a cat to do?

It wasn't as comfy as I wanted it to be, so I tried the armrest.

Nope.

But I finally got her to move the box, and I even had some un-shed-upon clothing to warm up and slime. Things are looking up.

Just when we thought things were going to be OK...

2009-03-09T20:06:00.000-07:00

Our house is a total wreak because people are tearing it up for some reason.
I have made a point of snoopervising all these goings on.
The tearing up part isn't the worst of it though.
Hart and I overheard a conversation that has us both just about going over the edge

Apparently we live next door to a few bob cats.
There are about three regular long tail cats that hang around outside that we have seen.
This one is the black and white one. He is a big guy, and I don't want to ever tangle with him or anything, so we just stare at each other through the window.

So now in addition to having to keep an eye out for Iraqi terrorist cats, now we have to be on the watch for bob cats too.

Hart thought he saw one the other day...but it was just a grey striped cat with a long tail.
Not a bob cat.
At least not this time.

Why on earth would Bernie and Blondie buy a house in a neighborhood with bob cats????
Don't the know those things are dangerous?

And they did it to us AGAIN!

2009-02-16T14:40:00.001-08:00

I have to admit it: While Hart and I were really used to the apartment that Blondie and Bernie moved us into last September, it was a bit small. Hart and I were starting to get on each others nerves.

Then just like that, some guys showed up with boxes and started packing the place up.

Hart kept trying to lay low, but those guys kept moving into his space.

Pretty soon there were boxes everywhere. They weren't the fun kind like the one we got for Christmas either. These boxes got ripping sounding tape slap on them so they would close and we couldn't climb and smell inside them for fun at all.

I figured I would just climb up into the tower and ignore them until they went away.

Whenever I would jump down for moment, Hart would hop up and hunker down.
It is really not a big enough tower for the two of us like our old tower.

(Hart: Well, there would be enough room if some orange person wasn't so big.)

When the packing guys grabbed the tower Hart hung on the the bottom of it with all his might, and let out a huge meow. I joined in with him; we meowed with all our heart, which of course was just broken at this point.

All the furniture was gone AND our cat tower.

Where would we perch now?

OH the horror!

Next thing we knew, out came those dratted carrying things. We were plopped into the back seat of the car, and away we went, Hart crying miserably, and me just being a stoic as a brave faithful orange cat should be.

Bernie got us out of the car and carried us to a door of a new place.

He said this was our new and LAST home.

He let us out in a room with a big window door.

VERY INTERESTING!

We like it!

Oh yeah..this is something to look at.

Hart and I decided right away we were going to be very happy here watching birds and squirrels on the soft comfy bed.

There was a lot more to explore as it turned out.

It is a really cool place.

We like it!

We are owed royalties

2008-12-28T19:39:00.000-08:00

Grandma Lady sent us this pillow.
Do the cats on the pillow look familiar to you?

Yeah, we thought so too. Dead ringers for us.
We want to know who used our likeness without paying us.

Hart says the pillow says "cats make purrfect friends"
That is so true.

I've notice that my image is also on a tote bag that Blondie carries all the time.

Maybe they are getting the moolah for our pictures.
You'd think that if they were, they could do better than this for a Christmas present:

Yup, they gave us a cardboard box for Christmas.

Just one box.

They told us we would have to share, that the box was biodegradable and good for the environment.

Yeah, yada yada yada...

THIS is what they SHOULD have gotten us!

A heated kitty sill!

And get a load of this: the sill heater has DUAL thermostats!

Hart could set his side to one temperature, and I being slightly more foofy, could set my side to a lower temperature.

It says it is easy to assemble, no tools required.

If we can ever figure out who owes us for the use of our likeness, we are definitely going to get ourselves one of these things.

My Grandma is THE BEST!

2008-12-16T21:23:00.000-08:00

Grandma Lady makes me presents...knitted snakes!

They have cat nip inside, and crinkly stuff and sometimes even bells.

She has sent me several over the years, and I have kept them all. A good snake is worth killing over and over again.

You can see me killing this one here!

Tuxie Tuesday

2008-11-18T06:36:00.000-08:00

Tigs said I could have a Tuxie Tuesday post on his blog once I could show him that I was getting better at posing.

I'm still not too comfortable around a camera though.
The flash always seems to hurts my eyes.

But Mom said the green on the duvet cover matched my eyes perfectly, so I should at least try to look up at the camera and she would take the pictures without using a flash.
I still don't totally trust her though.
Sometimes after she says that, the flash still goes off.

I probably shouldn't say this, but the duvet cover?
It is totally mine now.
Tiggie has to go sleep somewhere else during the day.
I curl up in the duvet and sleep nestled in, all cozy and warm, especially on days when Bernie and Mom are just too busy to make up the bed.

I hate it when they are busy and gone, but at least when they are, then they leave the bed especially nice for me.

Oh yeah...this is the life!

2008-11-14T07:23:00.001-08:00

I am finding that this lap sitting thing is becoming a very addicting habit.

I now even take my baths while sitting on Bernie's lap.

I avoid Blondie's lap though. She fidgets constantly. There is no way I could ever get comfortable on her.

I want to point out that even though I was the first to discover Bernie's lap, I was quick to share my find with my little buddy Hart.

Of course I always get the comfy cozy lap part for myself.

Hart seems OK with making do with Bernie's legs.

I know those legs are kind of bony and hard, but hey, that's the breaks.

What can I say?

Bernie only has one lap.

And I am HIS Faithful Orange Cat.

So of course his lap part is always going to belong to just me.

(PS: You can see in the first picture that Hart was on patrol while I took my bath. All was well with the Iraqi cat situation, so we were both able to take a little R&R lap sitting in before making our next rounds to secure our perimeters. Semper Fi!)

I'll admit it...

2008-11-07T09:03:00.000-08:00

I never thought it would happen.
I was so adamant about the subject before.
Look, don't touch was my rule for people.

But now....well, my standards have changed.

Yeah, it is true.
I've converted.
Just call me Tiggie, the Faithful Orange Lapsitting Cat.
Have lap, will purr.

Patrollin' and Posin'

2008-10-19T18:34:00.000-07:00

Hart and I are still keeping a watch here.

Hart checks out what is going on "out there" hiding behind a column.

Pretty smart huh?

No one down below can see us that way.

Blondie came out to find out what we were up to.

I told her I was just enjoying the fresh air, and listening to the birds sing.

As soon as she went back inside, I took my post and stuck my head out over the edge to check on the perimeter.

Then I snuck over to the front of the balcony and checked out below there.

Everything was cool...no Iraqi cats, no dogs, not nothing except a few cars parked in the sunshine.

Speaking of sunshine...I always like to practice my shadow making when it is a bright sunny day.

See how long I look, and how my ears make neat little triangles?

Every move makes a new kind of shadow shape.

Don't I have a great profile?

I usually don't like to talk about my artistic side...but not to brag....I do know how to pose for a picture.

The trick is to hold the pose long enough for Blondie or Bernie to notice and grab the camera.

But it is worth the effort when the results are so very good.

We Love Our Bernie

2008-10-11T18:53:00.000-07:00

When Bernie naps....

We nap.

When Bernie talks to us...

We usually quickly lose interest.

(Unless there is food involved. That's why we were looking at him in the first place. Turns out he wasn't going to share what was in the bowl.)

Hart has claimed this pillow as "his" nap pillow.

I got dibs on the orange blanket.

'Cuz orange is best, naturally.

The Highs and the Lows

2008-10-03T19:40:00.000-07:00

I guess I need to get everyone caught up on what's been going on here. Apparently we are now in a place called "Salt Lake City, Utah."

I don't see salt, or lake, but I am seeing a lot of city.

No Persian Iraqi cats though, thank heaven. I've been keeping a sharp lookout, just in case one comes by.

This little lookout space sure was a surprise.

We used to have a perfectly good garden on the ground, now we have just a few plants here way up in the sky. No anoles, no darn squirrels, no raccoons, no possums.

I kind of miss the possums....

I'm still hunting though. Caught this big old green katydid munching on Bernie's bonsai. I killed it, and then brought it inside right away.

Bernie and Blondie were right in the middle of their dinner, so I thought I should bring something to share.

Bernie was really proud of me.

I really don't like how katydid heads taste. So I left that part, thinking maybe Blondie would enjoy it for dessert.

She said she thought that was thoughtful of me, but gross.
Go figure.

The BIG news is that Bernie got Hart and me a new cat tree! Whoo HOO!

I knew if we hung in there, he would keep his word and get us one.
(Get it? I'm "hanging in there"?)

It even has a feather dangle so I can keep up with my bird hunting skills.

And a place to hide and think, or take a nap.

I find I never can get enough naps actually. The same day we got the cat tree, we also got this napping box. I hopped into it and felt sleepy right away.

Colorful place to nap, no?

Of course the real reason I needed a cat tree was so I could also keep secretly keep watch for any Persian Iraqi invasion from the window.

I'm telling you...it is a big job, but no Persian is going to sneak up on any of us here.

Not on my watch!

Keeping guard is a huge responsibility. And frankly, the enormity of it is getting to me. I have to confess: I've developed a pretty serious toilet tissue eating habit. I used to just take a nibble every now and then from the roll that was hanging on the wall.

I'm sure every cat has at one time or another had a toilet roll unwinding session or two. It seemed fun and harmless. But then the next thing I knew, I was climbing into the cupboard and hitting the rolls even before they were hung up.

I'd start eating...and eating...and eating....

And of course that would lead to other more messy activities on the carpet.

Blondie says she will up my daily Greenies fix if I promise to cut back on the toilet paper habit.

I'm trying to. Seriously I am. It's been three days and 15 hours since my last TP fix.

And I am attending Toilet Paper Anonymous meetings.

The first thing they had me do is to admit that I had a problem.

So here it goes:

Hello, my name is Tiggie and I'm addicted to toilet paper.

We're in a new location....

2008-09-20T16:57:00.000-07:00

We're sprung! Bernie came on day 11 of captivity and shoved us both into the carriers.

He was moving really fast....the Iraqi cats must have found out where we were.

(I saw this on the door as we left....)

Hmm...this must be what it is like for those poor women in the Middle east who have to wear burqua with face veils. Can't see for beans though.

(Hart: I hate this. I hate this. I hate this.)

Next thing we knew were in a completely different place.

NO furniture anywhere!

Scary!

Hart and I checked everything out.

Very, very weird.

Bernie sat on the floor and held Hart.

I had to keep looking around to be sure we were really safe.

Oh can you believe this?

We are waaaayyyyy up in the air. Higher than I've even ever climbed up a tree.

Hart and I looked over the edge. There were a lot of cars down below us.

What happened?

Why are we here?

Bernie put out our toys. Like who would want to play at a time like this?

Then Bernie LEFT US again!

I scratched and scratched at the door, but he was just gone.

We watched the moon come up across the way.

I decided the safest thing would be for me to find the best place to keep guard.

This place worked really good.

Bernie and Blondie came back to see us the next day, and then furniture came. Hart staked out a pillow for his own.

I'm stay up here though. I come down for meals and litter trips. And to sleep on the bed. It is so good that Bernie and Blondie are sleeping here with us. Hart and I curl up together right by Bernie's feet, and we purr all night long.

I think things are going to be OK...Bernie and Blondie said we missed a Hurricane storm in Houston, and that our house is OK.

What I don't understand is why we aren't living there anymore.

I guess we just aren't and that is that.

So I'm making the best of it, and doing my part to watch out for Iraqi cats.

Just so you know what they look like: Here a picture.

I think they look really mean, don't you?

I think it is because they have smashed in noses.

They must not be able to breath very good.

Terror Level: ORANGE

2008-09-06T18:14:00.000-07:00

I can't say I wasn't warned. Spooky...Goldie.....everyone gave us a head's up, but it all happened so fast....

After that weird stinky goodness episode things went right back normal for a day, then suddenly Bernie grabbed me, and Blondie was poking her fingers in my mouth.

Naturally I bit her.
It really is quite simple: Don't put anything of yours into my mouth that you don't want to have my teeth sink into.

There was blood everywhere.
After that, they opened a can of my favorite stinky goodness and the next thing I knew...

Hart and I were jammed into these things. I was loopy again; does the Food and Drug administration moderated what they are putting into those cans these days?

I'm a yellow cat Republican (not to be confused with a yellow dog Democrat) and I plan to investigate who is in charge of this organization once things get back to normal.

Anyway, the next thing that happened was we were taken outside and put into a car with some guy driving that I had never seen before. He spoke funny, and a song called "La Bamba" was playing. I thought maybe we were going to be smuggled into Mexico as part of a drug ring or something.

Hart and I were both feeling pretty weird so we figured we must have been drugged.

After a bit the car stopped, and Bernie picked up my carrier (with me in it) and Blondie took Hart. Hart was still sounding off; I figured I should just be quiet and try to think of what to do.

At one point Bernie reached inside the carrier and scooped me up, then walked really fast through a gate, then pushed me back inside the carrier, and zipped it up again.
All I saw was a huge, (and I mean HUGE) room with lots of people with rolling cases and stuff.

Bernie said we were in an airport, and that we were next going to something called a "President's Club."
I was glad to hear that; I wanted OUT, and at this point I was ready to take my complaint up to the Supreme Court if necessary.

It turned out the President's Club was just another big room with people sitting around typing on the their laptops and drinking stuff and eating cheese and crackers. Hart and I decided we would just start being really quiet; mostly because we were feeling so scared and sleepy too.

Just when I had finally nodded off Bernie reach down and picked up the case again and started to walk down some stairs.

Whoa...ugh...please just let me go home....let me sleep....

The next thing I knew, Blondie had me in the case on her lap. She kept stroking my fur through the little window thing, and was telling a man sitting next to her all about me. I thought maybe things would settle down, but then suddenly she stood up and lifted me again, and went walking down a narrow path between a lot of people who were sitting in rows.

Everyone tried to look at me; I had never seen so many faces all in one place in all my life.

Once Blondie sat down again I could see Bernie across the way holding Hart. Bernie and Blondie said I was lucky; that I got "upgraded" and was flying first class.

Then I was shoved under the seat.

First class. Heh.

At least it was dark and quiet under there, and after a whole lot of funny noises and vibrations, it just was dark and quiet and I slept.

Then there was more noises, and more funny feelings (my ears felt really weird until I yawned) and then Blondie hefted me up again and I was being paraded through another HUGE building.

Bernie said we had to wait for the luggage to come, and that he was going to go get a Smarte Carte, whatever the heck that was. Hart and I were put on the ground were we just saw lots of feet and luggage being rolled by. Every so often a kid would stop and look, and I could hear people asking about us.

NO one lifted a finger to get us out.
NO one reported what was happening to us.
Fellow cats...in this election year we must pay close attention to what is being said about how we cats are being treated. Clearly we need change in America for cat freedom.

Clearly we need to outlaw this drugging and catnapping.

(Oh wait, we still want to take cat naps, we just don't want to be catnapped. I mean... we don't want people to put us places where we don't want to be, and take us places where we don't want to go. You know what I mean don't you? Maybe we should hire a lobbyist to represent ourselves.)

It was dark outside and JEFF showed up!
We had met Jeff before; he had hung out with us on the sofa at home lots of time.
What was HE doing here?

Another car ride, this time without music, and Bernie drove while Blondie kept looking over the seat at us and telling us that everything was going to be OK.

I want to go on the record about that.
She lies.

We got hauled up some more steps (steps are the worst, all balanced funny and wobbly and all...)

Then we were let out of the black carriers.
There was a nice soft puffy bed to walk around on.

And Bernie feed us. We hadn't eaten in about six hours and so both of us chowed down really good.

There was a litter box too....

I snoopervised the room, then Bernie and Blondie climbed in the bed. I decided I would sleep where I could keep a good eye on them.

This gray chair totally worked for my perch.

I could watch everything from here.

I did a lot of thinking there, trying to figure what this was all about until I finally fell asleep.

The next morning I got to check out our new abode.

It was pretty nice actually. Nice color choices!
The tile floor and the green furniture worked with my orangeness.

Then I saw THIS.
A HUGE fluffy gray cat.
My ears went flat and I hunched down.

The cat just kept right on coming to me.

Blondie said this was my nephew Meowsie.
I had a picture of him on my blogside bar.
Um...that picture...small.
Meowsie is NOT small.
I am not sure how we are related actually. He sure doesn't look like anyone in my family. Maybe a bit like Hart's family....but all that fur...totally weird.

Blondie said Meowsie was adopted; and that he was a Persian cat.
Persian....you mean like from Iraq?
I'm living with an Iraqi???

Holy smokes...this problem is much bigger than I had imagined.

As a Faithful Texas Orange Cat, I am sworn to protect my country against all enemies. I will fight to the death to keep Iraqi terrorists from invading our country.

Blondie was cuddling up with him, and calling him her grandcat for crying out loud.
That's exactly what I had heard terrorist do. They settle in as a regular type person, and then, when you least expect it, wham, all kinds of horrible things happen.

I looked Meowsie right in the eye and told him I knew what he was up to.
Blondie said he used to be called Sebastian...see what I mean? The dude is covert!

Meowsie may be big, but I am a Texan, and we Texans never forget.
Remember the Alamo!
Remember the Maine!
Remember 9/11!
It clearly is up to me to lead the charge in eradicate this Iraqi threat in MY new homeland.

He knew what I knew....I knew what he knew...it was only a matter of time before we would engage in battle.

I got busy and snoopervised my perimeters.

Assured access to water.
Staked a few look out points.
Prepared to dig in for battle.

I got to meet some of the indigenous people.
They seemed quite nice, and totally unaware of the threat they were living under.

I did my best to make friends with them.

I figured I would need all the local help I could get when the war broke out.

Hart worked his charm too.
The weird part about all is is that Jeff was all ready saying he didn't like me.
Meowsie clearly had recruited him to the enemy camp.

I prepared a beach head a strategic location.

By this point I had already had several skirmishes with the Iraqi terrorist.
I had crept into his area before dawn, and launched an pre-dawn attack on him while he slept.

(The Iraqi sleeps in the same bed as Jeff. Oh Jeff, how could you have betrayed your country and gotten in bed the enemy?)

It was a loud and fierce battle.
Fur flew, we were both in full battle cry, screaming in the dark, paw to paw combat it was.

It really was a fervent effort, and Meowsie was wearing some kind of deep fur device that deflected claws and fangs. I had heard that our enemy had secret weapons; now I know first hand about it.

I felt pretty good about my surprise attack.
Jeff told Bernie and Blondie that being woken up by two cats duking it out on top of him at four in the morning was the worst.

Jeff doesn't know anything about the worst.
Iraqi terrorist living in your home, now that's the worst.
It was now my job, and Hart's, to wage all out war on Meowsie.

We took turns sleeping and monitoring Meowsie. I discovered that laundry works well as camouflage.

Bernie and Blondie totally did not understand the severity of the situation. They took to locking Hart and me up at night, letting Meowsie have total freedom to wander through out the house, and even to go outside, where clearly he could send messages to his fellow Iraqi hidden through out the area.

(I personally never saw the other Iraqi cats...but I am sure they are out there. I did research, and apparently there are Persian cats in many American homes. Why is the press so silent about this situation? Where is homeland security when you need them????)

It was nothing but battle after battle for days.
Then Meowsie decided to play dirty...really dirty.
He pooped and peed on Jeff's bed.
And told Jeff that I had done it.

I would NEVER stoop so low.

I got locked up day and night for several day, and just about scratched my paws raw trying to get out. Scritch-scritch-scritch on the bedroom door, day and night.

Finally Bernie said Hart and I could take a walk around the house for an hour each morning, during which time Meowsie would be locked up (where I couldn't get at him...why don't they UNDERSTAND what is going on ???)

So while Hart and I were just hanging out in the living room, dumb old locked up Meowsie took another dump on Jeff's bed.

Ha! I told you it wasn't me!

I was really suspicious of why Blondie started packing up our toys and food and stuff all of the sudden after that.

Then, in a flash, Hart and I were shoved back into those carriers, and were in the back seat of another car.

This time we weren't drugged. Hart and I sounded off as best we could about what was going on, but Blondie just kept looking back at us and saying again that everything was going to be OK.

We had been betrayed by the ones we fought to defend.

Hart and I have now been taken to a POW camp. Unbeliveable. Bernie is just sitting there grinning away, totally unaware of how our homeland is under terrorist threat.

I immediately surveyed our new location.

Hart guarded in one direction while I watched in the other direction.

We would go without sleep or rest, watching and guarding, looking out for each other.

We live in perilous times.

We were introduced to our barracks.

It has a secret passage way.

And a hidden room.

I call it our summit room.
Hart and I hole up in it to make plans for when we get out.

We take pains to exercise daily; we need to stay fit for when we can rejoin the battle.

Hart keeps watch from the barracks look out.

A female guard comes by every hour, and lets us POWs out for exercise in the common area under close watch.

We are adjusting. Who knows how long this incarceration will last?

We are making good use of our time stratigizing with our fellow detainees.
Here's another fine orange cat who goes by the handle "Cheetah Pants."

Kenya kept her stripes neat and was ready for action!

Halee was trained in special services: Whenever someone comes into the camp, she drops a load into the litter box. POWERFUL STUFF she makes too.

Then there is "Bob." We have never seen Bob. He stays deeply undercover so no one can ever identify him once he gets out.

I was able to smuggle one picture of where we are being held.
We hear we are being detained in a place called "Draper."
If you happen to know where that is, this is the building we are in.

I trust that rescue efforts are being arranged.
We will stay strong.
We will not give in.
As a POW, I now know this better than ever.

The Iraqi threat must be contained.

Our homeland security must never be compromised!

Whoa, what was in that stinky goodness?

2008-08-15T14:37:00.000-07:00

Hart and I are getting wet food now...we love it. There are all kinds of delicious flavors!
Yesterday though, I dunno, it was just sort of different.

My head was spinning, and I missed when I tried to jump up on the bed.

The floor looked funny. I beat up Hart because he looked funny too.

He went up on a pile of clothes. It was like a technicolor dream...

So strange...Blondie had all her clothes out and she was stuffing them into a big bag.

We crashed all night, and in the morning everything was back to normal.
Actually BETTER than normal...the Swedish girl came over and gave us double love.

Ahh, Janitha know just where to give a good rub.
I think she is the best.

Other than all that, and a big thunderstorm, everything is pretty same old, same old.

Looking forward to seeing what the weekend will bring.

All for now...

Tiggie, your Faithful Orange Cat.

It's been an interesting couple of weeks...

2008-08-13T15:49:00.000-07:00

Yesterday Bernie and Blondie put Hart and me into the big blue boxes and took us to see what they call "the vet".

I always put up a fuss when I see him, but really he is a great guy. He looked at the spots on my lips and said that they were "age spots" and that all orange cats get them as they age. He even said he could tell within a year how old an orange cat is just by looking at the spots.

I'm about eight or nine he said.

If you ever need to see a vet in Houston (not that I would wish that on anyone...) I would suggest you see Dr. Herb Muller at the Loop 494 Animal Hospital near Kingwood.

Dr. Herb. He's the best.

What is really cool is that every time I go to the vet, I get to see Paul. That's the guy who is standing behind my vet in the white jacket.

Paul was the guy that owned me and my brother Brownie and about twenty other cats. He knew me when I was just a wee lad, and had me until I was about three years old.

He tried to put me up for adoption but I just never could get the hang of acting all cuties and cuddly. I figured me and Paul and the rest would be just fine together, so I usually scratched the heck out of anyone who tried to make friends with me.

Paul thought I was unadoptable.

Paul hadn't met Blondie.

He was wrong: I didn't need to be cuddly; turns out all I needed to be was orange.

I'm really good at being orange, so that was all it took, and wham I was in a new house with a great big grey and white guy named Mac and a sweet little calico gal named Tidbit.

They've both gone over the rainbow bridge now, and Hart was brought into the family to fill in the spot that Mac left.

Anyway, yesterday at the vet I got shots and the vet said I should start eating soft wet food. God I love that man. Wet food is the best...I usually only get it on Sunday as a treat.

I also like him because he always tells Bernie and Blondie if the medicines will taste yucky. He tastes them himself first so he will know.

I think he does that because he is from Louisiana. They are real down to earth in those parts.

Like I said, a few things are new around here. Lately this thing has been in the kitchen, and Blondie puts Maui Wowie catnip inside it, and tosses my greenies in there too.

Usually she hucks them around and makes me run to get them.

Not any more. They are always easy to find inside the black thing.

At least I know they aren't cat carriers.

You saw those in the first picture...they are big and hard and blue.

Not like these at all.

This was the first one they got. It was kind of small, so they actually got me a bigger one. They kept measuring it and measuring it...
They said this one is just right.
Right for what I wonder.

As you can see, I can hide inside of it if I want. No one can see me at all!
Hart has one that he calls "his", and we spend a lot of time rubbing on them and marking the edges with our whiskers.

A few days back Bernie started to wonder how much I weigh.

He said I can't weigh more than ten pounds.

I wonder why...he never cared about that before.

He even said something about cat frequent flier miles.

I sometimes jump pretty far, but I don't think I've done that frequently.

And I'm pretty sure I have never flown a whole mile.

Anyway, it is hot here, and everyone is staying up late watching TV and cheering when people swim or jump or something. I really am enjoying that...I just lay down next to them and purr.

It's a good life we have here.

Simple, easy, and predictable.

Except for a few things that I don't think I will trouble myself over.

Like the saying goes:

I never trouble trouble until trouble troubles me.

No trouble here!

And wet food for me!

Life is good.

Tuxie Tuesday

2008-07-29T16:13:00.000-07:00

It has been really crazy around here lately.
First there were people painting in the kitchen and the sunroom.
Then they rearranged the furniture.
They even put our cat tree away for awhile.
That's bad. Real bad.

Then strangers started coming by when Bernie and Blondie were gone.
They thought I would be re-assured if they gave me lots of toys.

Frankly, I think this is just weird.
I wish all the toy mice would stop looking at me.
It's like they are trying to hypnotize me or something.

Personally the only toy that I care about is my fish. They are two black and white fuzzy fish connected with a cord. I get the cord between my teeth, and walk the fish to wherever Bernie is, making my special "I caught something" throaty meows.

He thinks that is really neat.

It is the least I can do.
Tiggie usually hauls a silver cord, a crinkly bug, and sometimes some other thing into their bedroom every night.
Frankly, I think that is just over kill.

Well, that's all I can think to write about right now.
I'll let you know as soon as I figure out what is going on around here.
Meantime, Tuxie Tuesdays are cool!

Tuxie Tuesday

2008-07-01T11:23:00.000-07:00

Hart found out about Tuesdays being "Tuxie" Tuesdays. He suggested I let him write on my blog on Tuesday. I thought was a great idea, so here he is, posting on his first Tuxie Tuesday.
Tiggie

I wanted all the Tuxie cats out there to see how high I can climb!
I was chasing a squirrel at the time.

Of course climbing isn't the hard part.
(I got a little scared, and Blondie came out and talked me down.)

Tiggie always comes down trees tail first. I just can't do it that way. Maybe going tail first is easier because you don't have to actually see how far down down really is.

It took a bit, but I made it down to the fence.
I think tree climbing really isn't for me.
Especially since the squirrels go so much faster up a tree than I do.

Father's Day

2008-06-15T10:10:00.000-07:00

So today is Father's Day.

I never really knew my old man.

(Hart: I didn't know mine either.)

Mom said I looked a lot like my Dad.

She said he was a big orange fellow that she met on a fence one night during a full moon.

She said they made beautiful music together.

And that his name was "Tom."

(Hart: That's funny...that's what my mom said was my dad's name too...)

Maybe one day we'll see our fathers out there.

If we just keep looking out the window, maybe one day he will come by.

Maybe.

You just never know.

I did not know they could do that....

2008-06-06T11:04:00.000-07:00

Hart and I were out in the garden the other day and he knocked over the empty white pot.

This critter was hiding underneath it!

It started hopping like crazy, but I caught it!

It fit in my mouth, all except the feet. They stuck out a bit, and that made it hard for me to let Bernie know I had CAUGHT something!

I ran from window to window trying to get his attention. Then all of the sudden....bleech! there was an awful taste in my mouth.

I had to spit the thing out...my mouth was all icky tasting. Later on Bernie said that when frogs get scared they pee.

NO!

NO WAY!!!!

Gross!!!! I would have NEVER tried to catch a frog in my mouth if I had known that. Why don't frogs come with warning labels or something?

Since it was still early in the day, Hart and I decided to pull up a piece of shade and just chill for a bit.

That didn't last long.

There he was again, that friggin' squirrel. Sitting on a branch just over us, flicking his tail and daring us to do something about it.

Well, I wasn't about to put up with that. I was off like a shot.

The nutcase squirrel raced ahead of me....

Ah ha...now I've got you, you little monster.

It was a stare down.

I kept looking at him until he finally lost his nerve and left.

Me: Still King of the Yard.

Tuxie Tuesday

2008-05-27T11:30:00.000-07:00

I think I've mentioned that Hart really never thinks too much about where he naps. Sometimes he just disappears under the chair, but forgets to pull his feet in.

I'll admit, his back feet toes are kinda cute.

I'm still recommending an artful pose when in repose.

Sometime the two of us sack out in the same place. "Joined at the hip" they say. That's just how it is sometimes when you are comfortable with an old friend.

Listen to the birdies sing....

2008-05-22T08:54:00.000-07:00

I saw Hart loafing on the bench outside yesterday. He looked like someone had let the air out of him.

He is a great hunter, but pretty lax on keeping up with his outside snoopervising duties.

Hart is way too involved in baby bird catching. It just about wears him out racing up and leaping to the bird feeder, then running when Bernie knocks on the window and yells.

Baby birds are too easy; they sit near us and look at us like they don't know what we are. They learn though...

I personally caught a Carolina wren and brought it in to show Bernie. He was ticked off, and took the bird away from me. The dumb wren now sits on the patio chair and smirks at us.

I wasn't going to hurt it or anything,; I just wanted to show Bernie that I could catch a bird if I wanted to.

I got going on my rounds..,..everything was just fine. The raccoons had stopped by and left some trash behind, but that isn't my problem.

I am allowed to hunt snakes though. Inside snakes. Ones that are knitted by Grandma, and have 'nip and crinkles and bells inside.

Man can those things fight.

I have to re-kill them every day.

Another Tiggie-Snake trophy shot.

It is a lot of work killing snakes. I always work up a bit of sweat, and my fur gets all tangled. A nice long bath followed by a good nap makes for the perfect end to a successful hunt.

Brushing privilege

2008-05-06T16:24:00.000-07:00

I got thinking the other day about all the people who I have allowed to brush me.

I prefer red haired people to brush me. They understand my fur type.

She was really good at brushing Hart and I at the same time.

This woman I only met once. She owns several famous hair salons out in California I am told.

Well now she has something else to brag about.

She has brushed me.

Did a good job too I might add. She got all the way down on the rug to do the job.

Let's see...

who else?

Jeff

The Swedish girl

Bernie of course.

Blondie

"Grandma"

and the other Grandma

Crystal

Jennifer

Uncle Scott

There are probably a few more people that I can't recall right now. I suppose they will be upset with me that I have forgotten them.

My apologies.

I sent the Swedish girl some of my fur. She thought that was very nice of me. I thought so...I haven't heard a lot about Sweden, so I thought perhaps maybe they needed something special like Tiggie fur over there.

I am considering sending my fur to other parts of the world that could benefit from a touch of my special orange fur.

After all, Blondie just acts all disgusted that I usually shed out a nice ball of fur every time she brushes me. I think she just doesn't appreciate my fur as she should. If I started sending it out to other places, maybe she would start being more respectful.

Anyway, that is what I am thinking about today.

Just call me Lee...Harper Lee....

2008-04-30T14:45:00.000-07:00

Blondie has started putting out meal worms for the mockingbirds that have nested in the tree in front of our house.

She's made two trips to the pet store to buy more worms just in the last two days.

Now the birds are screaming all the time for more worms.

Blondie says the bird's chee-t, chee-t, chee-t and chee-chee-chee sounds are driving her nuts.

I told her if she would just let me out, I could take care of the birds, and then she could spend the money she saved on buying ME more Greenie.

Mmmm....mockingbirds.

Mmmm....greenies.

Our Truce after yesterday's post.

2008-04-28T11:03:00.000-07:00

Honestly, that Hart is such a girl.
He screams like a Sally whenever we have a dust up, even though I don't even hurt him at all.
Consequently I always get yelled at to leave Hart alone when really he is the one who starts all the fights around here.

After our last brawl, Bernie took both of us aside and we got a little "Come to Jesus" talk about our behaviour.

Hart and I both promised to stop fighting and to be good friends and buddies from now on.

We promised to share and share alike.

So things are back to normal around here now.

All we really needed was some nap time to settle our nerves.
I personally feel much more peaceful and relaxed after our snooze.

Still the King of the Tower

2008-04-27T17:16:00.000-07:00

He started it.

I finished it.

'Nuff said.

(click HERE to see.)

Life in the fast lane

2008-04-21T12:24:00.000-07:00

It's been a little crazy around here lately.

Right after Easter we had a lady come stay with us who was from a place called Sweden.

She was great.

She told us she loves cats and has a couple of her own. She would even brush Hart and me without being asked.

And she didn't mind us sitting by her knee at the dinner table or next to her on the couch.

She even got down on the floor to pull string for us.

Hart and I could come and go into the guest room all we wanted while she was here and no one got the least bit upset.

(Hart and I used to not be allowed in the guest room, but since the Redhaired Girl came, we've just sort of made ourselves at home in that room too, and she doesn't mind us being in there with her at all.)

We even jump up on the bed when she is sleeping now and walk all over her and she thinks it is neat.

Right after the Swedish girl left, all those black boxes on wheels came out and everyone disappeared for a week.

That was fine with us too. Hart and I took a lot of naps. Uncle Scott came and fed us and brushed us and played with us every day. Uncle Scott leaves us a gift basket with new toys each time he takes care of us.

So that was pretty good.

Hart and I purred when Bernie and Blondie and the Red Haired Girl came back. Everything was hunky dory. The first night they were back I personally curled up on the bed between Bernie and Blondie and purred all night long.

Then things got weird.
Two days after they got back I heard Blondie talking.

She said words like "allergic to cats" and "get ready for Gail."

I had no idea what a "Gail" was, but the "allergic to cats" didn't sound good.

Blondie spent the next two days vacuuming every inch of the house.
She kept saying stuff like "You stupid cats, why can't you keep your fur to yourselves?"
She would show us the vacuum cleaner cylinder all full of cat fur. "Your fur is everywhere!" she yelled.

Isn't that the dumbest thing you have ever heard of?
Of course our fur is everywhere.

We live here. Whose else's fur would be here?

Hart and I figured out pretty quickly that it was best to just stay out of her way.

When "Gail" arrived, we rushed right up to rub against her leg.

Get this: Instead of petting us, or pulling a string or brushing us like the Swedish girl did, the "Gail" person said "Stay away from me please, little kitty."

Little kitty????

Obviously she doesn't understand cat proportions. I am hardly little. Actually I am a rather large mancat. Naturally I decided I needed to get closer to her so she could recognize this.

Blondie started grabbing Hart and me and tossing us outside.

Thankfully Blondie left with "Gail" a lot. Hart and I were really disturbed by this odd lady.

We hunched up in our cat tree and tried not to shed.

(Hart: I tried to be friends with Gail too. She didn't want to pet me either.)

The second day "Gail" was here I started to sneeze.

I walked into the bathroom and opened a few drawers and things like I always do when we have guest over, just to check out what they brought, and I noticed a few blackish grey hairs on the floor that looked just like Gail's hair.

Sneezed like crazy I did.

Bleech.

I think I am allergic to Gails.

No wonder Blondie tried to keep her away from me.

Gail seemed like a nice lady, but if her sheds make cats sneeze....

Ah-choo!

They said it was called "Easter"

2008-03-23T14:30:00.000-07:00

It got pretty busy around here last weekend. The Orange haired person was in the kitchen making stuff; later I was offered a taste of what they called "Paska."

It was OK; I'd rather have chicken or Greenies.

The next day everyone left for a bit, then came back and went outside into the garden.

I always like it when they do that, because usually they will play stick with me.

I really got the stick big time in this shot!

Bernie played a trick on me: He acted like he was going to play stick...

Then he reached down like he was going to pet me...

Then he RUINED everything by picking me up.

I hate being picked up. I start talking right away....

When I stick my tongue out, that is my last warning.

Yeah, your hands hurt alright. Just be glad it was just your hand.

That tie of yours could have been shredded.

Hart as usual just kept to himself. He doesn't even try to play stick.

He says he doesn't want to get his white socks dirty. Pfffp.

Then it happened.

We both saw it....

Hart even got up.

That damn squirrel was BACK!

I knew I should have kept an eye on that tree! He came down while I was just taking a break, just for a little while.

Blondie said it was the Easter Squirrel.

I think she is nuts.

Happy Greenie Day!

2008-03-17T12:30:00.000-07:00

The people around here say today is the day to be wearing o' the green.
Something to do with being Irish.
I told them I was a TEXAS orange cat, and maybe even an Irish Orangeman, but they put this collar on me anyway.

Hart does better with this kind of nonsense.
He even made his eyes glow green.

He said "Kiss me I'm Irish!" so I gave his neck a slurp.

Now what I want to know is: WHEN DO WE GET OUR GREENIES????

I treed a squirrel!!!!

2008-03-16T10:59:00.000-07:00

It was THIS tree!

I was on this side, and he ran up the other side.

You see, I was out in the garden, just minding my whiskers when SUDDENLY there was a huge sassy squirrel standing in front of me. He was just ASKING for it, swishing his tail and staring at me with his black beady eyes. I leaped right at him and he started to run like crazy.
I did my fastest charge and chased him RIGHT UP THIS TREE!

Yup, he went right up high into the branches.

I had him treed. No way he can get away now.

Stupid squirrel. No escape is possible.

I've been keeping an eye on the tree trunk since Thursday.

He can't leave without going by me.

He must be pretty high up in the tree...I don't really see him up there, but I know he has to be there.

Where else could he be? You know what they say...what goes up must come down.

Hart: Oh for crying out loud.

Bernie: Hart, just let him keep thinking he treed the squirrel. He doesn't need to know about how squirrels go from tree to tree.

Hart: Oh for crying out loud....

Whenever that squirrel comes down, I'll be ready.

That squirrel is toast.

Doors: What are they good for?

2008-03-12T17:45:00.000-07:00

Absolutely nothing, if you are a cat.
Well, maybe they are good to rub your whiskers against.
But other than that?

What were the people thinking?

Lots of bloggers posted pictures of their "favorite" doors today. Weird, huh.

I thought I'd post my video showing how I think it should be with doors.

You can see it by clicking HERE

Sheesh. All I wanted was for the door to be left OPEN!

Tiggie tips continue.

2008-03-06T11:23:00.000-08:00

When planning window treatments for french doors and transome window, it is important, if you have a lovely view, to enhance such view, rather than have the window treatment block or compete with the view.

Or better, just chose your drapery to compliment your cat.

A cat enhances any view.

Learning Japanese Update.

2008-03-01T07:52:00.006-08:00

That Adan!

First he wears a bow tie, so I think he is boy.
Then he wears a kimono so I think maybe Adan is a girl.
I started getting a little confused.

And part of Adan blog is in funny writing, and without my glasses on, I thought it was Japanese.
Turns out it he writes in Chinese.
I guess I should start wearing my glasses when I am reading blogs online.

Boy am I embarrassed.
Turns out Adan is a Japanese kimono wearing Chinese boy cat.

I don't think I should think too hard about this. My fur is curly enough as it is.
I shall instead spend some time thinking about chasing squirrels and eating greenies.

There.
Everything is perfect now.

Except now I'm hungry for Chinese food.
Anyone want to order me some?
Lucky Adan. I'll bet he gets Chinese food EVERY day!

Learning to speak Japanese

2008-02-29T19:25:00.000-08:00

There is a cat over in Taiwan name Adan, who blogs in English AND in Japanese.
I think that makes him trilingual: He knows Cattish, English and Japanse, which is pretty darn impressive if you stop and think about it.
At least I think he speaks Cattish.
Maybe he speaks Catanese.
I don't know, because I haven't heard him talk too much.

Anyway...I decided it was time for me to seek out someone who could teach me Japanese so I could start reading the Japanese part of Adan's blog.
I thought this guy might work.

He is holding an orange, and we all know that orange is good.
(Actually orange is the best, but I usually can't say that because I don't want to hurt Hart's feelings.)

I don't know when this guy is going to snap out of it and start teaching me something.
He seems to be in a kind of in a trance.
He's got two birds that don't ever move, and keeps holding one orange in his hand.

I'm going to be patient and respectful.
I really am not sure what is supposed to happen when you meet with a teacher to learn Japanese.

I think I will just move up real close to this guy, and let his Japanese zen thing leak into my head.
Maybe I can even learn to speak Japanese while I sleep.

Oyasumi nasai.

(Hey....where did that come from?)

How to ruin a perfectly good picture

2008-02-25T17:52:00.000-08:00

So there I was, all lined up elegantly on the corner of the rug (which happens matches my colors perfectly) looking good, and just look what happened.

People need to learn to stay back when pictures are being taken.
No one is interested in seeing pictures of people.

Why. Whywhywhy,,,,

2008-02-19T12:30:00.000-08:00

Bernie left. The bags came out, Blondie was grabbing stuff from the closet, and Bernie was folding stuff into a suitcase. I felt sick.
After they left, I curled up on Bernie's side of the bed, right next to his pillow where I can smell his scent.
I didn't move again until he came home.

Blondie put this picture on her blog.
I saw it.
I just don't understand why.
Why would he go to a place like that, just to pet another cat?

Why.
Why why why....

I just don't understand.

Happy Chinese New Years.

2008-02-07T11:28:00.001-08:00

Blondie said it was the Chinese Year of the Rat today.
So Hart went out and killed one.

A rat that is.
I don't think it was a Chinese rat though.

Good job, little buddy.
Everyone with purr knows there really is only one kind of year.
Every year.
Year of the Cat.

True?
True.

Notes on napping

2008-02-05T08:46:00.000-08:00

I think I should give my fellow cats some tips on napping.
Most cats instinctively know how to nap; but with a little thought and pre-planning you can move your napping experience from good to great.

First of all, consider your background. You want to look good while you nap. The people are less likely to try to move you when you are picturesque.
I occasionally take a nap on top of the oak roll top desk for instance.
It is out of the way, and my fur blends well with the oak tones and the texture of the desk top as well.

See what I mean?

Artlessly allow a bit of yourself to hang over the edge of the napping area. Spread out.
Own the napping area.

Once your body has found its niche, lay your head down on top of your mitts.

(I'm in Texas; we don't have Super Tuesday voting here today, but if I did vote, I'd vote for Mitt. He sounds like a good cat....try saying his name outloud. Mitt Romney...any cat can easily pronounce that. The other people have names that just aren't cat friendly.)

A glass paper weight is a great design element. Doesn't it look as though it has captured my dreams?

Now my little buddy Hart doesn't understand this nap setting decision making process at all.
He tends to just leap up to the top deck of the inside cat tree and zonk he is out cold.

He is a grey tuxedo cat you see; he thinks he is classy just because he is always in a tux. Right now he is also pretty proud of having a Valentine pink nose.

You see, the most important thing about taking a nap is being comfortable.
In this picture Hart is comfortable, but I am not.

Now this is better for me.

I can snooze, and also occasionally look outside and enjoy the view.

There is a lot more space in this area if I spread out on the diagonal.
I wrapped Hart's tail around my back knees to keep them warm as well.
This is a perfect position for a long afternoon nap.
I am now one very contented cat.

(Hart: How does this keep happening to me????)

January was National Tea Drinking Month

2008-01-30T19:44:00.000-08:00

They finally got around to putting in some new color in the garden. Mulched it too. I am having to re-sniff everything. It is a lot of work sniffing and rubbing around the yard.

The visiting red headed lady brought me this thing.
She said I looked like I could use a cup of tea.

Tea....hmmm.....

I don't get it. But it was nice of her to offer anyway.

Meme

2008-01-26T11:34:00.000-08:00

Spooky has apparently gotten herself into a game called a Meme, which she said is a "tag" but I'm not seeing where the chasing part happens.

I'm supposed to share some unimportant things about myself. I think she and the other cats who played need to *never again* speak of something related to themselves as unimportant.

EVERYTHING about any cat is important. Especially if you are orange. Whistle sent the meme "tag" to Spooky, and Whistle is orange like me, so naturally I was a little surprised.

But since I hold a soft spot in my heart for Spooky and her baby blues, here's the rules to this game and my list:

Rules:
Link to the animal that tagged you
Post the rules on your blog
Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself
Tag six animals and at the end of your post, link to their blogs
Let each person animal know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog

My list:
1. I had a brother named Brownie. We grew up together at Paul's house, with 20 other cats. I just heard recently that Brownie went to heaven. Don't know any details, but I think it is a shame.

2. I have one black whisker which Blondie calls my "wish" whisker. She is tends to be a bit over the top. I've never had to wish for anything, so I'm not going to say she is wrong though.

3. I can snag stuff with either paw. Sometimes I'm left pawed, other times right. Just depends on which is closer to what I am reaching for.

4. The fur on my belly is curly. In fact all my under coat fur is curly which makes my fur look ragged at time when the air is really dry. Big deal. Another reason to brush me frequently.

5. I caught a squirrel once. I let the bugger go. Catch and release is my motto. Why mess with squirrel when a tasty can of cat food can be had much easier?

6. I have a secret passion for possums. I can't help myself, I just start purring and acting all goofy like when I see one. It is embarrassing. I probably shouldn't bring it up, but Blondie already blogged about it so I might as well own up to it. It is just the way it is.

I tag Tobee and Rufus and Meowsie. Rufus and Meowsie can tell me in an email and I'll share it on my blog.

Hi, my name is Tiggie

2008-01-16T10:06:00.000-08:00

What Tiggie Means

You are a seeker. You often find yourself restless - and you have a lot of questions about life.
You tend to travel often, to fairly random locations. You're most comfortable when you're far away from home.
You are quite passionate and easily tempted. Your impulses sometimes get you into trouble.

You tend to be pretty tightly wound. It's easy to get you excited... which can be a good or bad thing.
You have a lot of enthusiasm, but it fades rather quickly. You don't stick with any one thing for very long.
You have the drive to accomplish a lot in a short amount of time. Your biggest problem is making sure you finish the projects you start.

You are deeply philosophical and thoughtful. You tend to analyze every aspect of your life.
You are intuitive, brilliant, and quite introverted. You value your time alone.
Often times, you are grumpy with other people. You don't appreciate them trying to interfere in your affairs.

You are friendly, charming, and warm. You get along with almost everyone.
You work hard not to rock the boat. Your easy going attitude brings people together.
At times, you can be a little flaky and irresponsible. But for the important things, you pull it together.

What's Your Name's Hidden Meaning?

Yup, that's all true. Except the part about being flaky.

Full of light...my glow is from perfection

2008-01-12T09:54:00.000-08:00

Notice my glow?
It encircles me where ever I go.

It isn't proper to worship me though.
You should only worship God.
But if you need to, you can talk to me, and I'll tell Him all about it.
God really enjoys hanging out with us cats.

We "get" perfection.
It comes naturally to us.
That is why God loves us cats.
And why He gave us the purr.

Let's talk.

2008-01-07T10:51:00.000-08:00

I saw that picture you posted of me with hair.
It wasn't funny.
Yes you.
You know who you are.

If you expect to have a healthy relationship with me, you will need to respect my boundaries.

Sigh.
I thought I could trust you.
I can hardly look you in the face now.

When will you ever learn?
I am perfect.
No improvements are needed...
I am part of the God's chosen Cat Kingdom.

I have chosen you to serve me.
Not the other way around.

Happy New Year.

2008-01-01T12:19:00.000-08:00

I thought I'd let the other cats out there read my forehead to celebrate the start of a new year.

That is where God wrote the secret symbol of my name and my title.

It is written in Catish, the ancient cat language.

Most cats can read and speak Catish.

A few show off cats read and speak Catanese. Usually Siamese cats.

It is more of an accent thing than anything, like a regional dialect, you know what I mean?

(Spooky probably knows a little Catanese because her eyes are blue. You'd have to ask her. I don't know for sure.)

I heard there was a people singer who tried to use a symbol for his name. His name was "Prince", you know, a real dog name, but no one could figure out what to call him because really he just made up his symbol.

God gave me mine.

I have a "M" just above my eyes. "M" for meow, of course.
All good cats keep their "M" neat.
It is the Cat symbol that all cats wear.

Blondie keeps stroking my symbol name and looking at it like she is trying to read it.

That is not possible.

Only a cat knows how to read it.

It is the name we think about when we purr.

Forget the mice, when the people are away...

2007-12-27T18:10:00.000-08:00

Us cats will play.
Hart has been smoking in the house.
Hee hee hee.

And we have been playing this really weird drinking game.

I probably have already said too much.

Whoa....

What was in the catnip anyway?

Our pet sitter ROCKS.

Hey Spookie, Miss Kitty, Tobee...wanna come over?

Yeah, it's cool.

They're gone. They won't know.

We had the possums and raccoons over last night. Now they know how to party.

Yeehaw.

I am not happy

2007-12-22T10:18:00.000-08:00

I tried purring extra hard. They still left.
I hate it when the suitcases come out. I wound up eating tissue again, and that hurt my stomach, so I threw up.
Blondie had been vacuuming and cleaning so much I thought she would pass out.
And she yelled at Hart when he got in her way.

I don't get it.
Why do they go away?

I even sat on the bed and purred and purred while they put clothes in the suitcase. I finally was too tired to try anymore, so I curled up and went to sleep.

I think I am going to be sleeping alot.
Or at least until they come home.

They didn't even put up a tree for Hart and me this year.
I am depressed.
This is a horrible Christmas.

Work out

2007-12-20T07:34:00.000-08:00

I know a lot of you out there are wondering how I stay so fit.
It is simple really.

I just make sure that I get in a good stretch work out every day, in addition to my cardio work out.
The cardio part is just tearing around the house as fast as I can, and includes racing along the back of the couch and jumping over the back of the big easy chair.
Every few days I also incorporate tree climbing. I'm up to four trees each session now. I always try to climb just a little higher each time too.

But stretching is key to staying limber. If you just do cardio you won't be able to make the kinds of moves necessary to get the string when it is dangled and pulled by the feeder folk.

So...begin with a nice cross stretch with right paw over left.
Bend your tail in the same direction as your right paw.
Keep your head and ears up, following the direction of your stretch.

Next reverse the stretch. This time put your right paw over your left, and bend your tail to the left as well.
For an added work out, hold your paw up for a count of five.
Try looking to your right.

Now lay flat, and point your muzzle in one direction, and your tail in the other.

Stand and cross your legs, holding your paw up for a count of nine.
Or one count for each life you have left.

Finally work on your "S" shape.

Be sure to find a great backdrop for your work out too.

It is a mind/body connection thing.

If you look good, you will feel good.

After your work out, take some time to wash up, and then settle in for a nice nap.

Hopefully when you wake up the people will have tidied the litter box, and you can reward them by begging for a treat.

Wrong.

2007-12-19T17:46:00.000-08:00

moar funny pictures

A fellow orange cat gone so wrong. Wrong, wrong wrong.
I might have known him...somewhere....
I think I'm going to wash my tail now until I can forget I ever saw this picture.

This is how a tree should look.

2007-12-18T10:43:00.000-08:00

I've never met the guy, but Uncle Rufus has the best Christmas tree ever.

Christmas Posing

2007-12-18T10:37:00.000-08:00

This...is how you pose with Christmas gifts.

Nephew tolerates Christmas

2007-12-18T08:36:00.000-08:00

Meowsie needs to get some balls.

And I don't mean the kind you chase down the hall either.

Posing in nature

2007-12-09T12:09:00.000-08:00

When Bernie is outside, I am outside with him.
Usually Blondie comes outside to join us.
When Blondie is outside, she is taking pictures.
Sometimes she forgets that I am the most interesting sight in the yard.
Today I raced up the tree as soon as she started taking pictures of leaves.
She got a good shot of me, don't you think?
Later she played stick with me.
It was a good work out all the way around.

Candles...prayers....and then the fun starts.

2007-12-04T21:14:00.000-08:00

I do look good by candle light. The more candles, the better.

And I am really good at dreidel.

I can spin those babies around the kitchen floor like nobody's business.

Like I said....I'm into posing.

2007-12-03T19:37:00.000-08:00

Hart is getting better at it.

When I think of all the time I had to spent to teach him not run away just because Blondie had the camera out.

2007-12-03T11:14:00.000-08:00

I finally got my own blog...

Let's get this party started!