Lion and Magic Boy

* Breathing

0600: sleeping.

0645: sleeping.

0815: lazyass human begins to move about.

0816: food! it’s time for food!

0817: false alarm.

0818: revenge will be ours.

0819: sleeping.

0907: lazyass human gets up, stumbles to bathroom.

0908: we wait outside the door. Usually human trips over us upon exit, and that’s always good for a laugh, especially in the dark. Too bad it’s not dark now.

0917: what the fuck is human doing in there anyway?

0924: human emerges and goes downstairs. We decide this isn’t the time to wind around her legs and cause a fatal fall; better to wait until after food.

0925: WHY IS HUMAN MAKING COFFEE NOW??! FOOD! WE WANT FOOD!

0926: revenge will be ours.

0927: kibble again. Revenge will be ours.

0931: cat box needs cleaning now.

0934: sleeping.

0942: human is working on “laptop”; does she not know we are the laptop? Must rub face against this laptop multiple times and apply claws to legs several dozen times.

0944: why does human not like this? We rub our special face oils all over precious laptop and she pushes us off couch. Revenge will be ours.

0946: still kibble. Revenge will be ours.

0948: sleeping.

1114: is sleeping in an upsidedown position an invitation for a belly rub? Well, is it? Then why does human seem upset when we claw and bite? Revenge will be ours.

1156: cat box still needs cleaning. Don’t humans come equipped with a sense of smell? Eeeugh. Revenge will be ours.

1207: hello, WATER BOWL???!! Why is there not ample fresh water when we need it? Do we have to do EVERYTHING around here?

1208: revenge will be ours.

1210: you may pet us.

1211: now.

1213: that’s enough.

1215: sleeping.

1256: there’s another cat here???!

1257: just kidding.

1258: must play chase now.

1313: who said we wanted chase? Time to daintily lick paws now, pretending indifference to everything else.

1315: who said we wanted petting? Can not you see we are involved in important licking manoeuvers? Bother us another time, petty unimportant human (revenge will be ours).

1319: fur is arranged and properly fluffed; human may pay us attention now.

1320: what is this laptop? We wish attention now!

1321: revenge will be ours.

1324: sleeping.

1533: cat box STILL needs cleaning.

1534: kibble is GONE. We can only stand around looking helpful for so long.

1537: sleeping. Revenge will be ours.

1647: finally, more kibble.

1648: hold it, who said we wanted kibble?? Revenge will be ours.

1650: laptop. Eeugh.

1654: let’s go see what’s fun to play with upstairs.

1655: Legos!

1657: they’re more fun if you take them downstairs. Who wants to play??!

1700: human took our toys. Revenge will be ours.

1733: cat.box.

1745: sleeping.

1813: chase!

1840: what else can we do with claws? Oh yes, furniture.

2014: small humans seem to be sleeping. More sport downstairs. Claws. Revenge.

2058: sleeping. Must keep watch on everything.

2216: laptop. Claws. Whyyyyy??! Revenge will be ours.

2243: CAT.BOX. Revenge WILL be ours. Next time? We’ll pretend we’re using that spot by the door.

2311: humans are SO touchy about that sort of thing!

2316: sleeping.

0017: human relocating upstairs. Time to wait by the bathroom door again.

0024: what does human DO in there anyway??

0026: water running? In the bathtub? For immersion? EEEEEUUGGHH!

0057: finally. We must take our places on the bed.

0112: pretend-sleeping.

0123: is human almost asleep? Good! Time to play! Chase-on-the-bed!

0128: we hate it when she pushes us out the door and closes it.

0129: must howl. LOUD. Revenge will be ours.

0146: not howling loud enough.

0152: good, it worked. We can take our places on the bed again. We must purr very very loudly now.

0209: more purring.

0213: human hates it when we lick her hair.

0215: lick it again.

0219: revenge is sweet, non?

Haiku AND cats. A two-fer.

The Black One

sleek glossy soft fur

burrowing under covers

purr belies sharp claws

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Other Black One

flag-tail waves with grace

golden eyes glow with fierceness

one paw dangles down

He’s back.

Yes, it’s the phrase that strikes fear in the hearts of Cat People everywhere: “litter box indiscretions.”

Yesterday afternoon Shadow (the black one) started crouching in various spots throughout the house as if he was going to pee there. When shooed away, he’d hunker down, upend himself, and vehemently begin licking his balls. A curious approach from Nacho (the black one)(”Hey! Whatcha lickin’? Can I have some? Can I at least smell it? That looks good!”) elicited growls and hissing. Not a good sign.

Later, on my bed, Shadow (the black one) lay on one side with his leg up in the air, looking uncomfortable. A glance from uncorrected eyes revealed what looked like a sausage emerging from between his butt cheeks. Not a pretty sight at 1 am.

Shadow spent the night in the garage.

Needless to say, rather than risk repeat of ass corkage, Shadow paid a visit to the vet today who poked, prodded, and palpated him in various undignified places with a gloved finger.

Tentative diagnosis: urinary infection, sausage notwithstanding.

Now both cats are eating expensive prescription food and Shadow (the black one) received a $100 injection of something expensive and probably ineffective.

Plus I have the enviable task of performing extensive litter box reconnaissance to determine who is peeing and how much.

Oh joy.

In other news, I’m making preparations (i.e. thinking about what to pack) for another trip to Vancouver next week, having purchased airline tickets lo these many months ago. I’m looking forward to being in the forest right by the beach and doing a LOT of writing. More on that later. Plus I get to meet someone I’ve been wanting to meet for awhile now, having missed my opportunity in Chicago last July and another opportunity in June.

Tomorrow I meet with the reading specialist at Serena’s school and get to convince her that Serena is able to learn to read without their help, thank you. However, the paper she brought home on Christopher Columbus rather belies my point (hello! yes, you’re supposed to read the words on the page! it makes it easier to answer the questions!).

Nathaniel is morose today. Only seven more years of this to go.

Eric found the container of 100 small blocks that I was using to teach Serena about multiplying by 10’s and has dispersed them all over the house. Now he’s demanding reading.

Bedtime’s in another hour. Serena is running a constant narration of the copious research she is doing on various elements of cats in a book, interviewing the different types of cats and recording her findings. Nathaniel is singing and making sound effects while he does math. Eric is grinding his teeth as he flips the pages of a board book.

It has turned into a quiet evening: the wind picked up; it’s raining and there’s been distant thunder; the air coming in through the open windows is fresh and cool; all marking the change from this long Indian summer into autumn at last.

Oh! There’s a new post up at Springing Light about reconnecting to Self. You’ll want to have a look.

I was a bit saddened this morning when I observed some behavior that’s apparently been going on for quite awhile between my cats.

Oh. If you’re not a cat person, heave a great sigh and scroll down.

Anyway. Yeah, pictures would help, wouldn’t they? Sorry, you’re not getting any this time, you’ll have to pretend you’re a big kid reading a chapter book and too bad but there aren’t any pictures. And I will describe them for you in glorious technicolor detail (the cats, or the imaginary pictures, take your pick), so you can use your imagination. Because I am too busy lazy to upload some. Next time, maybe.

So. The cats. There are two. They’re black. Brothers. Who, you would think, would love one another, cuddle up, and be nice to one another? Not so. They are out for blood, these two. It’s every cat for himself around here.

This morning they were both all friendly and all when I got up, rubbing against my legs and purring. Which translates to, “We’re hungry! Look! Cute! Feed us! Now! Before we trip you on the steps with our cuteness around your ankles and we eat your face off from hunger!”

So I stumbled downstairs and put food in their bowl.

And then Nacho, the black one, proceeded to go in the living room and lie down.

While Shadow, the black one, ate all the food.

Should I be saddened by this? Poor little Nacho (the black one), waiting for his breakfast like that! So patient. And he was clearly the hungrier of the two, the one who rubbed harder and purred louder. While Shadow (the black one) blithely ate everything in the bowl, as if he had a right to.

This is new, because they used to eat out of the same bowl at the same time. So I am wondering, was there some sort of telepathy or other communication that I wasn’t privy to? Because I missed the memo on the Alpha Cat Elections. Definitely not a democratic process, by any means.

[here comes the segue, don't miss it!]

Cats sure like beds, don’t they?

[did you see it, the segue? wait, I don't think you did, go back!]

Yep, cats like beds.

I like my bed too. Even though I don’t use it for much. Some occasional sleep, stuff like that. But I think about my bed A LOT, and I have to wonder what it says about me that my bed occupies so much cranial space.

While you’re pondering that I can talk about my sheets.

A couple of months ago Nathaniel talked me into buying a new sheet at IKEA. I say “sheet”, singular, because I realized that it’s been quite a long time since anyone who complains much about such things has spent any time in my bed and therefore I could finally ditch the top-sheet thing and just go with a duvet and duvet cover like the good lord intended. Toe freedom is VERY important to me.

So I bought this sheet even though I was dubious about the color. It’s a lovely color, actually, and if this was 1986 I would call it “teal” and pair it with black lacquered furniture but since it’s not 1986 I will call it “ocean” and pair it with my medium brown sleek modern IKEA bed. At any rate it’s a lovelyish greenish blue. Which, to my mind, clashes somewhat with the unfortunate olive (they were out of the red, which would have REALLY been heinous with teal ocean, but since when I bought the olive I was still dealing with blueblueblue sheets, olive was fine) of my duvet cover.

I really wanted the RED duvet cover, but that would have necessitated not only that expense but (obviously) a color of sheet that’s not teal ocean. Because I cannot sleep in a bed that’s red and green. I’m sorry, I cannot. But how to justify an expense to replace something that’s perfectly good and only used about 4-5 hours a night?

There IS another set of sheets, of course (I know! so decadent!), a flannel-grey set. Which leaves little grey fuzzies everywhere. And I abhor little grey fuzzies so we have put the little grey fuzzy-producing sheets away for now. They may someday be repurposed into something, I have yet to decide.

Maybe I can sew a large grey fuzzy cat from them.

Oh. Yes. Sheets. Um, I mean, sheet.

Did I mention that the cats, both the black one AND the black one, sleep on my bed, mostly?

The thing with the teal ocean sheet is this: it shows that there is an ENORMOUS amount of cat hair coating my bed. Which I hadn’t known about when the sheet was grey and therefore, apparently, absorbed all the cat hair there. Or turned it into repurposed little grey fuzzies, maybe.

But the amount of cat hair that I scrape off my bed on a daily basis is exhorbitant, ludicrous, and cautionary.

So my question is this:

Which sheet?

A. Lovely cathaircovered teal ocean?

B. Fuzzy-making and not very soft grey flannel that doesn’t show the cathaircoveredness?

And, now that I know the cathaircover is there, can I even go back to the greyfuzzyflannel and pretend I have forgotten about cathaircover? Or never knew it existed?

Or is this my chance to go back to IKEA and get the red and whatever else goes with it?

And can I get either the black one OR the black one to cover the cost of refurbishing my our bed?

Yes! This time tomorrow, I HAD BETTER BE ON A PLANE, and of course I have a gaziliion things to do between now and then, which is why I am wasting precious time blogging them.

1. Remember the ass-cork cat? Well, in honor of the cats’ birthday last Sunday, we decided to get them the food that my hair guy Russell recommended because it’s what HIS cats eat without throwing up. We have this bond, Russell and I, that goes back years now. He entertains me a couple of times a year with tales of his various cats and his trips to Paris while he does stuff to my hair that renders it remarkably like it looked when I walked in. I love Russell.

But the cat. Apparently I can donate the rest of that food to Russell’s cats because mine mews pitifully when he goes to the cat litter box which means his little insides don’t feel good which explains the yuckiness he leaves there and the drips he left on Eric’s brand new bed, thank you. So we’re switching back to the other food. Immediately.

But of course I worry about my kitties in my absence, even though they will be taken care of. But that’s what worries me: it’s bad enough to ask someone to scoop your cat’s shit on a daily basis while you cavort about on vacation, but is it appropriate to ask someone to scoop cat shit that is excessively yucky? Extra yucky? Do you pay this person extra? What if it’s a family member and you’re not paying them at all? Is there some extra obligation incurred here? And what is appropriate recompense?

2. Packing. Naturally I have not begun this, though have thought about it. I am very good at packing and could actually pack for six days in about 15 minutes. So why not leave this until tonight?

NOTE TO SELF: DO NOT FORGET CORDS. CORDS TO IPOD, LAPTOP, CAMERA, ETC. CHARGE IPOD.

ALSO: Glasses, in case you wish to see without contacts. Except Matthew has not seen you in glasses yet. Okay, strike the glasses.

3. Check in for flight. I could do this right here right now but my lazy self still has not hooked up the Airport Extreme that sits on the dining room floor still in its glossy white shrink-wrapped box, taunting me, so I still cannot print from the laptop, though if you want all my passwords and stuff you can come and hang out near my house and get them wirelessly, okay?

4. WORK!! I was going to post ahead for Strollerderby to cover the days I will be internetless, which as far as I know is ALL OF THEM, but something inside me last night decided I should watch “Bride and Prejudice” instead.

However I am channeling by telephone for someone this afternoon which should prove interesting, because I no longer have phone service. Yep, my VOiP company went belly-up, and the new VOiP company couldn’t handle the influx, apparently. Though I just spotted Mr. FedEx truck outside which means my new phone router is here. That won’t help me, though, since they still haven’t assigned me an actual phone number.

However! Skype! And supposedly I can record the session right from Skype (note to self: scoop cat box before session begins, as being tied to the computer that’s six feet from it via headphones will be memorable but less enjoyable if you forget this), though do you think I should test it beforehand? I mean, before five minutes beforehand? You do? Killjoy.

[While I wrote this, Mr. FedEx guy disappeared without leaving me anything but just came back and knocked loudly at the door, getting the cats' attention, so I think I have a package! Yay!]

[Question: when I go out to get the package, should I bring in the big blue trash container that's been sitting out at the curb for two days? Or forget all about it and just leave it there another week? Which? And, OH!! (note to self) Don't forget to unlock the door when you go out! I live in mortal fear of locking myself out of the house, because NO ONE has a key. Well, my daughter Jess has a key, but if I'm locked out I can't call her because I won't have the cell phone and I don't have her number memorized and what does it say about me that I can't remember the phone number of someone who has had it for something like three years? Someone who's related to me? By blood?]

5. Um, errand stuff! I forget now what I actually have to do here. Let’s see…pay attorney something…check. Get a mailing tube to pack the picture I made (because I am a Real Artist according to Serena) for Matthew’s birthday but wasn’t inspired enough to make it ahead of time so now I am going to bring it with me and I would post a photo of it here but it’s still sort of a surprise although he knows about it, but I will post it for you eventually…check. Cat litter? Yes…check. Lots. Buy another bathing suit because I have decided against the one I bought a few weeks ago when I bought the hot SIZE ZERO dress for BlogHer that I didn’t wear because I didn’t go but there was the bathing suit and in the total excited rush of buying a SIZE ZERO dress I decided I could actually be seen in public in a bikini after having had four kids but now I have reconsidered and decided that no, the public is NOT READY TO SEE ME IN A BIKINI AFTER ALL…um, no. No time, unfortunately, sadly. Will have to consume enough wine to make the bikini work after all if we decide to stay for the Group Hot Tub event (that sounds rather kinky but I can assure you it won’t be, at least, if it is, I’M LEAVING IMMEDIATELY).

6. Bike ride, because this is my last chance for at least a week, even though it is ninety-eight zillion degrees outside and effing humid, so much so that yesterday when I went out I could feel how wet my socks were inside my shoes which made my feet slip a little, rather distracting, and my Hot Cycling Gloves were indeed, hot.

So what are you still doing here?? Don’t you know I have things to do?? Shoo! Go home!

[tags]packing, travel, VOiP, Sunrocket sucks, hot tubs, Skype[/tags]

First things first. It’s been kindly brought to my attention that the photos I’ve posted of myself haven’t been as flattering as they could have been. So you don’t like me all sweaty in no makeup? Oh well. Here’s another one then. Just no mentions, please, of:

1. Cleaning the mirror.
2. Figuring out how to use the remote on the camera. (Is there one? I’ll have to check)
3. Smiling. That’s in Phase II.

Okay. On to the topic at hand.

I have a serious bone to pick with Nacho. That’s this one:

He’s, evidently, a cord-chewer. How do I know? Because I left a brand-new headset plugged in to the USB port of my PC while I went to get Eric something to eat, and when I came back, it looked like this:

This thing was so new I hadn’t even bothered to chew the plastic off it, as excited as I was to begin using it. It was a gift. Which meant a lot. I had plans for it.

Mr. Radio Shack Guy informs me that it’s too complicated to attempt a splice (many, many wires). He suggested I throw the cat out the window. I haven’t done that yet. Poor Nacho, he wants attention.

Hey, you want to see the end of that wire up close? I knew you did!

Spliceable? Cast your vote:

a. No way in hell.
b. Doubtful…you could try.
c. Absolutely! I just did one like that last week! And here’s how to do it!

Tonight I dragged everyone out after dinner (brown rice and asparagus, with garbanzo beans, garlic and tahini = awesome!) for a walk. It was a gorgeous spring day today, and while Eric and I enjoyed a walk this afternoon I thought it would be good for the older children to get out as well.

Right away we had problems:

First, Serena’s stomach hurt and she was consumed by the event. She’s been having what I suspect are psychosomatic synptoms to all the transitions and stress in her life. Some people thrive on change; others have more difficulty. It’s something I’ve been working with her on.

I dosed her with the appropriate homeopathic remedies and we continued on our way. Meanwhile, Nathaniel had taken off on his bike.

It was at about this time that I couldn’t help noticing the smell. Pervasive. Strong. And absolutely nauseating. Could it have something to do with that no-longer-picturesque-looking-considering-the-awful-smell farm nearby? It could. At least, maybe if 400 dead cows were left out decomposing in the sun. That would explain the smell. No matter which way I turned from the breeze, there it was.

Gah.

So in this frame of mind, I was less than happy to greet a barking, jumping dog who crossed the street specifically to jump on me, the stroller with Eric in it, and Serena, and did I mention me? And ripped the iPod out of my ears?

Now, I had a dog, for a time. Not *my* dog per se, but he did live in my house. And I created a raw food menu for him, made the food, fed it to him, took him outside, petted him, and gave him Reiki. But I couldn’t love him, as much as I wanted to. For one thing, he already had given his heart to someone, that was clear. And another, he was…a dog. Nothing against him, and he was a wonderful dog as dogs go, but…still a dog.

It’s my belief that you’re either a Dog Person or a Cat Person. Some few are both. I know which I am.

So this jumpy-barky dog, I shooed him away a few times, assuring him that he should go back across the street where he belonged (but NOT when there’s a car coming! LOOK OUT!), and even though he caused me to lose the little foam-thing from my left earphone, I won’t hold it against him. His owners, perhaps, but his rudeness isn’t his fault.

Nathaniel, however, approaching the jumpy-barky dog on his bike, took off as fast as he could go, the dog chasing him, then bolted the garage door and hurled himself inside the house to await us. Glad to know I can rely on that boy to save me from jumpy-barky dogs.

IMPORTANT ADDENDUM! If you are indeed a Cat Person, I will know this about you almost immediately. Men who are Cat People score extra points in the point-scoring department. Sorry, can’t help judging on that basis. And? If you pass the Cat Test, meaning that if my cats like you, then I am allowed to associate with you. Sorry it has to be this way, but I have no control over the situation whatsoever. The cats apparently have this whole thing figured out.
[tags]cat people, dog people, cats, dogs, raw food, sacrifice, jumpy-barky dogs, iPod[/tags]

It’s not a good feeling, knowing that there is someone watching you.

Eyeing your every move, almost.

Waiting.

Judging.

Stalking.

This is my life, recently.

I know he is watching me, even now. He tracks my movements.

It’s disconcerting, to say the least.

More than annoying. Way more.

It’s really kind of scary, because it seems sometimes like he comes from nowhere.

And there he is.

So it’s clear he’s been watching me.

In fact, I expect him to make an appearance almost any time now.

It happens almost without my noticing it, he’s that good at it.

But all of a sudden there’ll be a cat in my lap. And there he is. Claws and all. My sleek black stalker.

[tags]stalking, stalked, cats [/tags]

Cat Tangle. Why go to the trouble of finding a comfortable place to sleep when your own brother is quite suitable?

They love one another, don’t they?

Yep, check out that angelic look.

However, like with the other siblings of the house, things quickly deteriorate.

Ah, yes, brothers.

I’ve got you on the edge of your seats, haven’t I? Suffice it to say that Day One: Seige From Across the Street has been pretty much exactly What I Expected.

I’ll leave that to your imagination, sorry.

In other news: when I put Eric on his bus yesterday to go off to his preschool where he makes igloos out of sugar cubes and glues stuff nearly every day judging by the fequency of glue on his fingers, and has learned to eat a sandwich! by himself! taking bites without choking! and someone made him use two hands!, as I was finished buckling him he waved at me and said “Mama bye”. First Time! Two words!

In more news: No news on the cat front. I dutifully exchanged a rather large “sample” for a vial of tiny evil pills last night from the weird little specimen box outside the vet’s office-slash-house, and administered one of said evil pills to the equally evil and growling but blanketed cat last night, but I’ve no news about the consistency or contents of said sample, although this dearth of information could have been caused by the fact that I failed to include a check along with the sample, and isn’t there something about leaving paper bags of poop on people’s doorsteps? (At least I didn’t ring the bell)(Or light the bag on fire)

And in still more news: Nathaniel has come home claiming that “everyone” (read: one of his friends) is playing an online role-playing adventure game called “Runescape”. So naturally I cave and agree to look into it. It turns out you must be at least 13 to play it (he’s 11), so already I am not liking this game because 1.) what is so bad about it that it forever bans you from signing up if you mistakenly (or honestly) claim you are, say, 11? and 2.) his friend(s) have lied about their age(s) in order to play the game, and do I really want Nathaniel to be friends with kids who lie? So I agree, reluctantly, to use a different browser and to sign up as someone older, say, 43 (that’s not me, of course, just a random age, why would you even think that? How old did you think I was, then? WHAT???! Are you kidding???! Fine. Just.Fine. [look of disgust] See if I ever read your blog again, and you can just forget about that link, bucko!!), and give him several almost-identical lectures about never revealing passwords or personal information to anyone in this game, that an official person would never ask this information, that things are not always what they seem, blahdeblahdeblah. So I wield the mouse and do all the signing-up but he chooses a user name, password, and attributes, and off we go, learning about this game. So far it looks harmless enough, but I am of course concerned about what he will do if a fellow player walks up to him and starts screaming obscenities. If you know anything about this game, I’d appreciate it if you could drop me a line about it before I let Mr. Innocence And Light be besmirched by a computer.

[tags] developmental delay, speech, down syndrome, ass cork, cats, pills, Runescape [/tags]