Category Archives: Cats

It is my BIRTHDAY! (A very special guest post!)

Gude morneng, people of teh bloge. Momme said I culd blog today because it is a speshul day for me. It is my burthday!

I am blogginge! Mommee has used her lapetope so much she wore off all the silver on it. She needs a new one, she sayse!

I am blogginge! Mommee has used her lapetope so much she wore off all the silver on it. She needs a new one, she sayse!

Well, it is my pertend burthday, because I am adopted catte. Mome doesn’t’t know when is my burthday. I do not know ether because I am a catte. We do not haev calenders! But when Moeme adopted me, the vet sayed I was two yeers olde, and so she said my 2end burthday was on the day she adopted mee and I became a catte with a Momme who pettes my furr.

It is many yeers later. Do you know how olde I am twoday?

I am Foreteen yeers old!

Momme looked it up on the internetwebs and she sayed that when a catte is fouerteen, it is like a hoomanperson being seventy-2 years old. “Thatte is very old, Dummbecatte!” she sayed to me. Then she picked me up and kissed me on my noes and also cuddled me and that messes up my furres! So when I gotted onto the floor, I licked my furr until it was niec again. Momme doesnot understaynd how my furres need to always be so nice but she gives good cuddels so I still loev her.

O no! This cat has the mesziest furs! He must be SO MADFACE!

O no! This cat has the mesziest furs! He must be SO MADFACE!

Momme has been my momme for tweylve yeers. That is a longtime! I donot remember my home beefore Momme but probebly it was not goodtimes because they did not want me anymore and left me at a scary playce called a shelter but not inside but owtside where it was wintercold but Momme worked there and she bringed me home with her because she sayed, “I like yore fayce, you funny furree catte.” Me is Dumbcatte. Did I say hi? Oh, no. I always try to be saying hi. Hi from Dumbcatte. Hi to you, peeple!

Hi from me Dumbcatte! I am a litele scayred of you but not all the way scarede.

Hi from me Dumbcatte! I am a litele scayred of you but not all the way scarede.

On humanpeeple burthdays, there are caykes and presents and cards mayde of paper, and sometimes the phone rings and also peeple write on your wall of Faycebookings, but I donot have a phone or a fayceboke. I don’t think cates can hayve a faycebooke because we have paws. That seems unfayre. I want to talk to my congressmene. I would be good at Faycebookings! I would like all of your piktures and also say things like “helo from me i Am Dumbcatte!” and you would smile. Also I wuld post piktures of cattes. Momme says that lots of peeple do that on teh Faecbooks so yew would liek that!

I wulde post THISCAT! He is funny cat. He has a cowche! And WURDS! I like him lots much.

I wulde post THISCAT! He is funny cat. He has WURDS! I like him lots much.

Momme says I sholde tell you about how it is to bee seventee-two yeers old in hooman years and about importent things that haev happened to me in my lief because that is what olde peeple mite do on their burthdays so I was thinkeng all day aboute this. I forgette things a lot of tiems. This mite be becauz I am olde, or because Momme says I am a catte of very litel brain. But she still loves me the most of all the cattes of all the wurld! That maeks me lucky!

I am thinkinge hard hard. This is my thinkinge fayce, but also my almost asleepe fayce.

I am thinkinge hard hard. This is my thinkinge fayce, but also my almost asleepe fayce.

I will tell you things that are importent that have happened to mee! Dumbcatte! You did not forgete I am Dumbcatte, right? Gude.

When I am TWO yeers old, Momme rescued me from the cowld outsideplace. At furst I was scared of her because peeple made me scaredcat. But then I reelized, she is gudelady! And gievs me many pettings and many treets! So I luved her after some months of hiding under the bed where there was dust and also it was darktimes. Her howse was warm and no one throwed things at me and there was alwaeys food and waters, and treets. When I was two was a very gude yeer even though I was scared at furst.

When I am STILL TWO yeers old, Momme and me and my sistercat got in the car and drove for many many days! I did not know what is happeninge. The car had maney things in it like cloethes and pots and pans and all the books. Me and sistercat were in the front seet in a carrier with a seetbelt over us. Mostly I sleeped the whoel time. Sistercat did not sleep. She made meows the whole way but LOWD. Momme kept saying, “Please stop, Bittercat, you are giving mee migrayne hedacke.” Sistercat did not like cars or drivings and made so many meows. Mostly I just sleeped. Sometimes Momme would pet me and say, “You are my gudboye and a very gude traveller, Dumbcatte” and I would make purrs. I do not mind travels! Momme sneaked us into hotels for two nites and Sistercatte was crayzee and runned all around and maed more meows and mostly I sleeped more and headbutted Momme and eated some foods and treets. We were going to New Yoerk where Mommee was from! And we staeyed with Grandma and Grandpa at camp in the woods and I jumped on Grandma and she laffed and I catched a mowse and eated all of it but the tayle and that made Grandma say “Why couldn’t you eet the whole mowse, Dumbcatte?” but tayles aren’t delicious, Grandma!

Looke! This mowse eats this catte's fudes! Oh, this would make me sadest. I like my fudes but not for mowses to eat!

Looke! This mowse eats this catte’s fudes! Oh, this would make me sadest. I like my fudes but not for mowses to eat!

When I am STILL TWO yeers old, Momme and me and sistercat moved in with Niec Laydee and her catte and I falled in love with her cat but her catte did not love me back and maed hisses at me a lot of many times. Niec Laydee is Momme’s frend from college where Momme lerned to be actress adn writer. She gaev me many pettings and was niec and liked cattes. Our howse had flores made of woode and if I runned very fasttimes I would slied and run into the wall and Momme would say, “Oh, no, Dumbcatte, THAT’S not gude” but also laugh and hide it behinde her hand.

Sometimes my leggs would all go out sidewaysplaces. Momme would laugh but pretende it was coffing because she is nicelaydee.

Sometimes my leggs would all go out sidewaysplaces. Momme would laugh but pretende it was coffing because she is nicelaydee.

When I am EIGHT yeers old, me and Momme and sistercat moved into a NEW playce that does not have woode floors. It is littel and I liek it fine becuz Momme is still heer. I wuld live anywhere Momme is! And sistercatte and I sleep with Momme on her bed and sometiems we curl up with eech other becuz we are sister and brothercattes but only becuz of adoption but that is the sayme says MomMe.

This is me in new home cuddling with mommee. She is warm and soft and pettes my furrs.

This is me in new home cuddling with mommee. She is warm and soft and pettes my furrs.

When I am ELEVEN yeers old sistercatte getted very sick and would not coem out from under the bed or eet or drink and she made sad noyses and culd not breethe and losed all her weight and we culd see all her bones and I am sadcatte adn Momme is sadMomme. And one day sistercatte goed away and she did not coem home, and when Momme comed hoem she cryed and cryed and hugged me adn I looked for sistercatte for many days and sayed “Meow? Meiuw?” but she did not come owt. Momme sayed she had to go to sleep adn wuld not come hoem. I am sad adn Momme is sad.

When I am FORETEEN yeers old I am writing this blogge! And I am seventy-2 hooman yeers old. But I still jump around like a kittne because I do not feel olde. I sleepe with Momme every nite and purr in her ear and sometimes jumpe on her when she is sleeping but she does not get mad. She says, “Dumbcatte Dumbcatte no no. I am sleeping. Be a gudcatte” and I try but I liek jumping on her sometiems. I cannot help it. She is like trampoleen I love more than any of all the thinges!

Mommee says to stop writing now so I can have a can of squishy fude that is special burthday treet and smeels like fishes. Have a happy day to you peeple! Do not worry about beeing seventee-two becuase you will still feele like a yung kitten liek I do!

I loev you and wuld loev you more if you wuld give me treets!

Loev, Dumbcatte

This is me walking away bybye! I am going to sleepe on the box for the cableteevee now where it is much warm. It gets fur in the cableboxx. Momme says "Oh Dumbcatte" but she does not mind becauz she loves mee!

This is me walking away bybye! I am going to sleepe on the box for the cableteevee now where it is much warm. It gets fur in the cableboxx. Momme says “Oh Dumbcatte” but she does not mind becauz she loves mee!

About these ads

Hapy Thankgivinge blog peeple from Dumbcat!

Hello to peeple of the blogge!

This is me! Dumbcatte!

This is me! Dumbcatte!

Momme sayed I could rite here twoday because she is travelng. She goed to visit my grandprnts for Thaynksgvng. That meens they are her momme and daddy, and also that when they visit us, they pet me on my head and maek me purr lots. I used to be afrayed of her dadde because he has lowd feet and also voyce, but the last tyme he was heere, I was braevecat and he petted me lots and I headbuttted him maeny tiems and he laffed. I did not even hied in the cubbord of pans and pots, and momme sayed I was a very goode boye and gave me many cuddels after they goed home. 

Momme says this is Thanksgivign. On Thankggivng we usually just eat turkeybird and watch a cartoon about a beegle that makes toast and popcoarn for some kids for dinner and momme says, “this is Charlie Brown Thanksgeeving, Dumbcatte” and I don’t know what that meens but this yeer momme is surprising her daddy and goang home at nighttime to say “surprise srprise I am visting” and I will miss her but she sayed “I will be hoam Fridaye Dumbcatte and will give you much treets and hugs” and I sayed “meow” because that is how Dumbcatts say “I loev you Mom mom momme and also I love treets.” 

This is the beegledog making tost and popcorns. I am a littel scared of beegledogs.

This is the beegledog making tost and popcorns. I am a littel scared of beegledogs.

I am writng here twoday because momme sayed that on Thanskgivng you are supposd to write a bloggepost about what you are thankfulled for. I diden’t know what that meened so I asked the squirrle that’s been hanging out on our powrch. “SQUIRRLE!” I said in louwdvoice becuz he is behind a window, “SQUIRRLE WHAT IS THANKFULLED?” and Squirrle said “CHIRP SCOLD CHIRP!” because that is squrrle-talk and it meens “the things you feel lucky to have.” I like Squirrle, he has a tail I want to bYte and pounce on but Momme saes “no no Dumbcatte! You cannot go owtside because of running awaey and also it is cowld.” Momme knows about running awaye and also cowld because she gowes outsideplayces a lot! She is grownup laydee and weares a coat that is soft and smels like sheeps to me. She has to hang it in the clowset because or else I like to sleep on it and get furrs on it and she says “sigh sigh DUMBCATTE! You have mayde my gude wool coat all furrs!” 

Squirrle friend! Why is he alwaeys on our porche? Momme doesn't know why eithre.

Squirrle friend! Why is he alwaeys on our porche? Momme doesn’t know why eithre.

So with the help of Squirrle (THAYNK YOU SQUIRRLE I LIKE YOURE TAYLE TO BYTE IT) I thinked of things I am lucky to have and thankfulled for becuze it is Thaynksgving! Momme will be so prowd of me she will pet my tayle many timez and give me all the treetz! 

ONE. I AM THAYNKful for having many toews. Most cattes only have some toews but I haev ALL THE TOWES! Momme saeyz I am pollydactul and Moeme’s freynd from Britain Engaland Elayne sayz I am Hemmingway catte. All of my toes are good towes and I lyke to scratch things and Momme says “you have ruinede the cowch!” but she doesnot care really becauz this howse is catte frendly, she sayz. 

Do you think this catte is my brother or sistre? HELLO BROTHRE OR SISTRE!

Do you think this catte is my brother or sistre? HELLO BROTHRE OR SISTRE!

TWO. I em thankfull for treetz. They are deleceus. You shuld eet treetz! In my howse, we have treetz at nighttimez. I start to ask momme for them and she says “Not TIME, Dumbcatte!” but I donot know about TYME so I roll on the carpetstuff and then I say, “meiouw?” in a polyte voyce and she says, “it is treettime at EIGHT PEE EMM, Dumbcatte, and right now it is FIVE OH TWO pee emm!” and I donot know what that is means so I just keep asking in MORE and MOAR polyte voices and sometymes this maeks her scoope me up and kiss my bellee and say, “YOU ARE A BEGGAR, DUMBCATTE!” and then I have to get on the flore and lick my bellee furrs because they are messee now. Mommees make your furrs messy but you still love them. Then she gives me treetz and I run all arouwnd the room EETING The treetz and crunching and purring and she laughs and says, “you are liek a treet vacuum” and I eet and purr and crunch because SO GUDE! 

I like theese treetz! They crunch in my teeths.

I like theese treetz! They crunch in my teeths.

THUREE. I am thankfule for warm. Becuz when I was yungcatte, I lived on dirt and it was wintertymes. And it was cowld, and there was snowe. And I had to eat things that smeled badde. And peopel yelled at me and that was skary. And I hidded under a garaeg but it was stille cold and my tummy was hungury and I cut my foot on a sharup thing and it was owch. But in howse with Momme, there is warm! And also blaenkts, and cowches, and bed with Momme, and foods, and treetz, and a bird on a string that teeses me and makes me run all around and byte it and byte it and leep in the air until I am tired, that byrd is tricky and always gets awaye! 

There is that bird! How did it get on the blogge? TRIKCY!

There is that bird! How did it get on the blogge? TRIKCY!

FORE! I am thaynkfel for MOMME! Asweoihegw0hweg 

Please to excuse the cat I falled off the cowch becuz I was excitde. 

I will start over agayne! 

FOURE I AM THANKFUL FOR MOMME! 

This is my momme. I am not in this photo because I was sleepinge. Cats sleep a lot and more a lot.

This is my momme. I am not in this photo because I was sleepinge. Cats sleep a lot and more a lot.

Momme is the best momme and at first I was scayred of her because I was scayred of all people, but then one day I sayed, I like this laydee because she gives me foods and her howse is warme and she lets me sleepe anywhere I want to sleepe and does not yell loudvoyce at me and she did not make me leeve the nice waerm howse so maybe she will not ever do that. So I sneeked out of under the bed with the dust that maked me sneeze and sneeze and I headbutted her fayce when she was sleeping and then I thought o no! She will be madtimes! But she was NOT madtimes and she just laffed and sayed “Dumbcat! Are we friends now?” and petted my furrs and I liked that so much and when she moved out of that howse I was skared! But she taked me with her! To another howse! Then she left that howse and took me to a NEW howse! She does never leave me behind because she is my Momme. And I sleep next to her fayce and she pets me until she falls asleep and sometimes I waek her up by jumping on her and she says “owch Dumbcate that is my spleene!” but it is ok. Because when someone is your Momme they aren’t really mad at you for jumping on their spleen or throwing up on the rug. They just clean it up and say “poor Dumbcatte how is your tummy. Pleese try to throw up on the tile next tieme, my little sweet poetatoe.” 

It is niec to have a mommee and I hope you all haev Momees or Dades, or maybe penguins, they are funnee, or mome says you can also have two mommees or daddees and that is ok and I say ok, who cares, as long as there is petting of Dumbcattes? Twiece the petting is ok with me! I am Dumbcatte! If Mommee marrys a boyperson someday he can pet my furre. I will let him. Do you think he will give me treetz? 

I want a pet pengiune, momme! This one is happey.

I want a pet pengiune, momme! This one is happey.

I am going to sleepe now because tomorrow momee will be home and I miss her and will sleepe on her bed now. I can get under her covers because she is not hear and will not know until she gets home and then she wOUld say “Dumbcatte who unmade the bed, was it a robber?” and I will say “mieouw!” which meenz “yes momme a bad robbere came in while you were gone and sleeped in your bedde it was not me, Dumbcatte!”

ROBBERS, MOMME, I TOLDED YOU!

ROBBERS, MOMME, I TOLDED YOU!

Happy day of turKeys to you all and also thankfulnesses and I hope you are all happeytimes. If you are not happeytimes you should get a pet like a cat or a dogge or a squirele or a penguin or a goat.

Oh, Momme sayz to tell you that SHE is thaenkful for haeving many good jobbes and her familee and her friendz that she lovez so much and for having a year that waz unprediktable and also wonderfulle, and for having all teh love in her lief, then she had teers in her eyez a littel so I headbuttde her and she laffed.

So, in summatione, you should get a pengiune pet.

LOVE DUMBCATTE

This is my authore photo like when you write a booke. I look verey seriuoustimes!

This is my authore photo like when you write a booke. I look verey seriuoustimes!


…and a new interspecies friendship is born!

Dumbcat is afraid of men.

Up until recently, he was afraid of EVERYONE. He’d hide when anyone came over. Beeline for the pots and pans cupboard or under the bed or deep inside the couch up where the springs live until the people left. THE PEEPEL MOMMEE! THE PEEPEL! MAEK THE PEEPEL LEEVE OUR HOUWSE!

SO SCARED!!!!

SO SCARED!!!!

The only person he could tolerate was my old roommate C., because we lived with her for six years when we first came to town. He’d hide for a bit, but then he’d come out and be headbutty and such.

But men? NO THANK YOU. He’d hear a man’s voice and he was OUT of there. And he wouldn’t come out until the men were gone. When I went to my parents’ camp this summer, he hid every time Dad came to visit, and even when The Nephew came up (but that might have been because The Nephew is a loud little wee one, and he kept saying “Aunt Amy? Where is the cat? So I can HUG HIM?” and Dumbcat made himself very small and invisible in the back corner under the bed in the farthest bedroom and played a game of YOU CANNOT SEE ME because MOMMEE THE SMALL HUMANE WITH LOUED FEETS IS SKARY TO ME.)

Pretty sure The Nephew wanted to hug the BREATH out of Dumbcat.

Pretty sure The Nephew wanted to hug the BREATH out of Dumbcat.

The only man that ever won him over was BFF, and that took DAYS. BFF came to visit for a few days before I moved out of state and by the last day, Dumbcat was sitting on his lap purring. BFF was so pleased. And it is like a visit from a rare butterfly, when Dumbcat comes to sit on your lap, because he’s so damn skittish.

But the past month or so, he’s been really good with people. Three people have come over – Laura, and Cousin S., and friend K. – and he hasn’t run from ANY of them. But they all have ladyparts, of course. Because they’re LADIES. I was so pleased he was letting them pet him, but I just figured, well, he’s getting old, and petting’s petting, but they’re not men, with their low rumbly voices and stompy loud feet.

This weekend, my parents came to visit. They like to visit close to my birthday and take me to lunch. We usually go shopping but this year we didn’t because instead of shopping I got some money to put toward my Most Excellent Adventure in the Land of the Finns fund.  (We’re getting there, kiddos. Almost halfway! 3/4 of the way by the end of the month!) So they came all this way to take me to lunch and then turned around and left. Is that not the sweetest thing? Even though I’m old, they still come to celebrate my birthday with me. Aw, those parents.

So they got here and Dumbcat was on the back of the couch and he didn’t run away from Mom, and she was so happy. And he got some grandma-petting. Then Mom and I went to talk and walk around a little bit and when I came back in the living room I thought Dumbcat would have run off because A MAN IS HEAR MOMMEE A MAN WITH A MAN-VOYCE! but a SHOCKING THING HAD HAPPENED!

SHOCKING!

SHOCKING!

Dad was sitting on the couch and Dumbcat was headbutting his legs and hands and Dad was petting him as if he’d never petted an animal before in a weird patting tentative way.

“WHAT IS HAPPENING?” I said.

“This cat loves me,” he said. “Maybe he’s not as dumb as I’ve always thought.”

See, Dad hates animals. He can tolerate outdoor dogs as long as they don’t get near him or make any noise, but otherwise, animals are his nemeses. He doesn’t approve of pets and hates animals being in the house because FUR GETS ON THINGS and FUR IS THE WORST and he’s always telling me that Dumbcat will steal my breath and give me cat scratch fever and saying “YOU HAVE GOT TO GET RID OF THAT CAT.” When I was a kid we had beagles (outdoors only) and cats (mostly outdoors only, and not Dad’s choice – we begged him into letting us have them) and that was it. Where I came from, no one knows. No one in my family loves animals like I do.

(SIDE NOTE: I totally wanted to take a photo of this most momentous occasion to document it, but Dad was all, “NO BECAUSE THEN YOU WILL PUT ME ON THE INTERWEBS AND THE GOVERNMENT WILL GET ME” and we had to have a discussion about how, if the government wanted, the government could ALREADY get him, as his car is registered, he pays taxes, he owns a home, etc., and he was all, “BUT THE INTERWEBS! THAT’S HOW THEY GET YOU!” and it was really a losing battle. Once, my brother put a photo of Dad up on the Book of Faces and Dad LOST HIS SHIT. “You make him take that down. MAKE HIM! TAKE THAT! DOWNNNNN! People will KNOW about me! Where I am! WHO I AM! They will COME FOR ME!” so my brother had to take it down and he was so sad. “It had like ten likes!” said my new-to-Facebook brother. “I know, dude, you just kinda gotta roll with the Dad-crazy, it’s a thing,” I replied.)

So Dad and Dumbcat had some loving before we took off for lunch. “This cat hits you with his FACE,” he said.

“Yep. He’s filled with headbutts.”

THE CUTEST HEADBUTT ZOMG!

THE CUTEST HEADBUTT ZOMG!

“I don’t know if I like that, because sometimes his teeth touch you and it’s like he wants to bite your hand all up.”

“Nah. He won’t bite. He only bites when you clip his claws or accidentally when you’re feeding him treats because he’s so excited, and he never REALLY bites. He’s too sweet to bite.”

“I think he might be vicious.”

“He’s not vicious. He’s a good boy.”

Then we tried to leave and Dumbcat leapt up on the couch and purred and I petted him and Dad was all “He doesn’t like you to pet him right now because he’s trying to settle down and take a nap. Don’t torment him” because NOW, APPARENTLY, Dad is all-knowing about what Dumbcat likes best and they are BFFs for all of time.

(Side note: this BFF-ness didn’t stretch too far because when we got to the restaurant he was all, “WOMAN!” [to my mom] “Do you have any of those hand-wipe things? I touched that cat. I COULD HAVE CAT DISEASES. I can’t eat with cat diseases on my HANDS!” and Mom didn’t so he had to go to the bathroom and wash his hands for like ten minutes to get rid of lingering cat-germs.)

When we got back there was some MORE Dad-and-Dumbcat bonding time and awkward petting and it really was the most heartwarming. And once Dad got home and called me to tell me that he was safe and didn’t get hit by a truck on his way home, he was all, “I bet that cat misses me so much” and I was like, “Yes, SO MUCH. So much that he’s sound asleep on my lap, most likely dreaming of his new best friend Grampa.”

This was the best interspecies friend story of all time. And no, I have no idea why Dumbcat is all of a sudden Bravecat and Lovingcat. It’s completely out of character for him, and kind of adorable. It’s like he’s discovered PEEPLE, MOMME! And they can all give him PETTING! And all of them are NIEC PEEPLE! WHERE DID ALL THEESE NIEC PEEPLE COME FROME?

Don’t worry. He’s still the same old Dumbcat, though. He got stuck in his litterbox today somehow and dragged it halfway out of the closet while yowling at it most impressively. THAT’S a new one. Haven’t seen THAT one before.

That’s my good boy.

(Psst, tomorrow is a VERY SPECIAL DAY. Do you all have your party hats and those unrolly party tooter thingys at the ready? Man, I sure hope so. A person with unruly hair and crazy eyes who writes a kooky blog only celebrates her VERY SPECIAL DAY once a year, you know. MAKE IT COUNT, PEOPLE!!!)

WHOO-HOOOO!

WHOO-HOOOO!


The cat who stole people’s BREATH

Lots of things going on in the world, right?

Whole damn U.S. government’s shut down. Someone shot at the White House or something, I don’t even know what the hell. People are very, VERY angry about the Affordable Care Act (also known as Obamacare, if you like to call things by the wrong name in a sneering fashion, like my dad does, for example.) It’s October, but here in lovely New York, it feels like June.

IS IT THE APOCALYPSE?

Nah, probably not. Just Washington being especially childish. These are grown men and women who are playing a big old game of “I’m taking my ball and I’m GOING HOME” and they’re being stompy-stomp and it pisses me off that we elected them and they’re not doing their jobs and now basic things aren’t getting done and people aren’t getting paid and it’s all a problem.

Dad said, “WHY DO YOU WORRY ABOUT SUCH THINGS. THIS ISN’T GOING TO AFFECT YOU.” I replied, “It DOES affect me, as I am a human, with emotions and feelings, and I feel empathy” and he said, “UGH YOU ARE SO STRANGE.” Wouldn’t it be nice to have no emotions? I think maybe yes. (Oh, shush, Dad HAS emotions, I’m exaggerating, he’s just on the WRONG SIDE and thinks this government shutdown nonsense is a good idea. HOWEVER, in good news, he says – and he seems to be up on these things – that there’s some sort of thing that happens on – I think he said the 17th? something about the debt ceiling, I think? – and if the government isn’t up and running by then, it would be castrophic, and therefore, he thinks HIS PEOPLE will be forced to capitulate. I’m all for this, but of course I didn’t tell him this. So, if Dad’s right, we only have two more weeks of this to put up with.)

But surely there are better things going on in the world, right? We need some cheerfulness. This has been a crappy week.

Here in Amyland, things have been hellaciously busy. This past week has seen very little sleep, a lot of running around, and many adventures. Well, sort-of adventures. Busy-ness, at least. Two theater reviews, so far. (Both AMAZING shows. I love it when that happens.) Dinner with friend K. with delicious food and lots of talking and laughter. Haircut today, so for 24 hours I’ll look pretty and put-together, then I’ll be forced to do my own hair and it’s back to looking all frowzy and harried. Oh, and my car broke down so next week I have to bring it in for a billion dollars of repairs. SIGH.

Not actually me or actually my car. But close.

Not actually me or actually my car. But close.

Dumbcat is not pleased with all this running around. He would like more sitting around so he can curl up on me and sleep most sleepily; I have to admit, I miss that as well. Sorry, buddy. Very busy. Lots to do. Need to make money to buy your cat treats. The other morning he woke me up about ten minutes before my alarm with VERY LOUD SNORING because he was sleeping on my pillow right next to my face-area and snoring like a LITTLE FURRY CHAINSAW. I couldn’t decide whether it was more bothersome to be woken by him, or by the blaringly aloud alarm. He doesn’t MEAN to snore like a little furry chainsaw. It’s not his fault. He’s VERY TIRED. And snorey. And adorable.

Another play coming up, then hanging out with Mom and Dad this weekend, which should be fun-times. We will have food and shopping and presents. Because I am 4 days from a year older! Hooray!

Oh, also, I have STORIES which I have forgotten to tell you. From last weekend, when Cousin S. was visiting. She was all, “YOU NEED TO WRITE ABOUT THIS!” and I totally forgot because I was writing SO SO LATE and I was dying to read the new Stephen King book. (Which I finished. And it was AWESOME.)

So this past weekend, Cousin S. came to visit. Dad was CONVINCED we were going to get in trouble. I’m not sure that we were that much trouble as kids, but apparently Dad thought so? So he started saying, a few days before she got here, “you call me if you need bail money. I HAVE BAIL MONEY SET ASIDE. Those bail bondman, THEY ONLY TAKE CASH MONEY.” So all weekend, whenever we’d do anything, S. and I would say “Ooh, THIS is sure to make us need that bail money!” These things included eating sushi, going to the movies, and visiting the Empire State Plaza. (The last one of these is the only one that MIGHT have caused the need for bail money, because we decided we were walking somewhere maybe we weren’t supposed to when we were cruising around The Egg.) Dad seemed disappointed that we never needed that bail money.

The second thing is MUCH more worrisome.

Dumbcat tried to kill S.

I woke up one morning and walked quietly into the living room (where S. was sleeping) and was all, “where is that Dumbcat?” and looked and there was Dumbcat, ON HER CHEST, with his face all up in her face.

You know what that means, don’t you?

Dumbcat was totally stealing her breath.

Dad’s OBSESSED with cats stealing people’s breath. I think he heard it from my grandmother, and even though I explained to him it’s just a thing that people say because cats used to sleep in infants’ cribs because they were warm and smelled like milk, he STILL thinks one day, I will wake up dead (yes, he says that) with Dumbcat having stolen all my breath.

She woke up and said, “I cannot move THERE IS A CAT ON ME” and Dumbcat was all gleeful that TEH LAIDEY! TEH LAIDEY IS AWAYKE! and walked all over her with his mitten-paws most joyfully.

So I told Dad about this and he was all “I TOLD YOU!!! I TOLD YOU THAT CAT WOULD TRY TO STEAL SOMEONE’S BREATH! THAT CAT TRIED TO KILL YOUR COUSIN! WHAT WOULD I HAVE TOLD MY LITTLE BROTHER IF SHE HAD DIED BY CAT-BREATH-STEALING?”

Heh, Dad. I’m so pleased your theory came to fruition.

(Just so you’re all aware, Cousin S. is alive, well, and kicking back at home with her family now. She is not a victim of Dumbcat’s excessive love. Not even a little.)

Oh, ALSO, on a funny note, Cousin S. works in the medical field and we were talking about medication and apparently my current sleeping pill (my doctor’s constantly switching them up; she’s amazed I can’t sleep, and I’m quite sure soon I’ll be given horse tranquilizers) is also a CAT MEDICATION. I think for seizures. I am currently taking a cat seizure medication to help me sleep. Check me out, modern medicine, I AM A DAMN MIRACLE. MEEE-OW.

(SIDENOTE: cat seizure medication, which is probably sleeping pill number 5 or something, doesn’t work very well. Sometimes I sleep, sometimes I think of things like “OMG THE WEIGHT OF THE WORLD! IT IS ON MY SHOULDERS!” and then I just lie there staring at the ceiling and thinking about how most people can just sleep SO DAMN EASILY and thanks, genetics.)

Time for beddy-bye, kiddos.

Remember – per Dad, we don’t need to worry about the government shutting down. IT DOES NOT AFFECT US.

Except for those of us it DOES affect, and those of us who have empathy for the people who are affected.

If you’re one of those people, my thoughts are with you. No matter what Dad says.

And hey, government-people? Get your shit together, yo. We put you in office. WE TRUSTED YOU WITH THIS JOB. So DO your damn job. This is embarrassing. OTHER COUNTRIES ARE LAUGHING AT US.

Sigh.

Happy weekends, people of the blogiverse.


And that, kiddos, is why we never, ever count our chickens.

Today there was a sadness. It’s a heart-hurty kind of day.

So this afternoon I was eating my lunch and playing around on Facebook (as I do) and saw this.

This is a cat that was available at one of our local shelters.

Who, exactly, does he look like?

OMG IT IS DUMBCAT’S THINNER YOUNGER TWIN!!!!

OK, so I had about ten minutes to make a very important decision (because I had to get back to work.) I was not planning to get another cat. The last great cat experiment did not turn out well. And poor Dumbcat. He WANTS a friend, but he’s so timid. (I also love having two cats, but his feelings are more important than mine.)

But this was Dumbcat’s TWIN. And listen, Lynx Point Siamese cats? They’re not something you see every day. Also? He was a polydactyl. He had extra toes. JUST LIKE DUMBCAT. And his name was VERY similar to Dumbcat’s really real name; enough so that it was spooky, actually. I wouldn’t even have to change his name. He’d fit in just fine (assuming he liked me, and I liked him, and he and Dumbcat got along, and such.)

I’m not the most impulsive human. But look at that face.

Yeah. I was gone. I was smitten.

I called the shelter. Yes, he was still there; yes, they were open; no, they couldn’t hold him, but they had very little traffic today, why didn’t I come in around 3:45, he’d still be there. I could bring him home today, actually. Neutered. All ready to go. Yup yup yup.

I jetted back into work. Scared my boss with “OMG THE BOSS! There is a CAT-RELATED-EMERGENCY can I leave early?” After she was talked down from thinking my cat had perhaps called me while I was on my lunch break (what, it might happen, he has thumbs) and said he was dying or something, and I explained the situation, she was very understanding (I have a wonderful boss, who is also my friend, and she is a bigger cat-lover than I am.)

All systems go. I had butterflies upon butterflies. Butterflies all up in my butterflies.

You see this isn’t going to end well, right? I started this on a down-note. I spoiled you before you began. I didn’t want to get your hopes up.

I went down the scariest little roads on my way there. (WTF, GPS, seriously? There HAD to be a less circuitous and less-likely-to-get-me-killed-by-yeti way to get to that shelter.) I ran in. The lady at the desk was all, “Go on back! He’s around the corner in the cat-room!”

I ran in.

His cage was empty.

I stood in front of it for a minute. This didn’t compute. She’d JUST SAID he was there.

There were two viewing rooms in the cat room. I peeked in them.

There he was. Up against the glass. He saw me and walked to the glass. And bashed into it with his face. In a very Dumbcat-like-way.

The two women in there ignored me. I knocked on the glass. They were both wearing scrubs; I assumed they were employees.

Amy: making an ass out of YOU and ME for almost 40 years now.

“I’m here for him,” I said.

They smiled and one said, “Did you fill out an application?”

“Not yet!” I said. “He’s mine – don’t give him to anyone else, ok?”

She nodded. “She has dibs!” she laughed.

I went out. I filled out the application. And halfway through, the lady at the desk said:

“Oh, someone else is taking that cat you want, by the way. You don’t need to finish filling out that application, if you don’t want to.”

I stopped. I got very cold. I looked at her.

“No, I…I told the employees back there I was here for him. I…”

“One of those people is an adopter. She got here a few minutes before you did. She decided she wants him.”

“They’re not both employees?”

“Nope.”

“But…one of them told me to fill this out? One of them said I had dibs?”

(But did she? Or was she saying the OTHER chick had dibs, and I misunderstood? What the hell was going on at this shelter of chicanery?)

The woman at the desk shook her head. “I mean, you can go back and see what’s going on, but it’s a done deal, I think.”

I went back to the cat room. The two women were now playing with OTHER cats. My boy was in his cage. He looked at me with his wise blue eyes, which were ever-so-slightly crossed. I thought about taking his cage card and going up front and lying and saying, “She said I could have him.”

Because he was mine, right? I came all this way. Wasn’t he mine? He was meine Wassermelone, right?

I’m not the devil. I couldn’t.

I went to the visiting area again. The same two women looked at me. I knocked and opened the door a little. The one who apparently WASN’T an employee (was just, randomly, wearing scrubs? What a calvacade of errors this place was, or maybe I was) looked up, annoyed.

“I’m sorry. Are you planning on taking the Siamese? I…I’m here for him, they told me he’d be here, I’m so hoping…it would mean so much…”

“Yes. Most likely. I am DECIDING. THANK YOU,” she said. And made that dismissive tut-noise. And looked at me pityingly.

And I walked up front and stood by the front desk because if I walked out without her deciding and she chose otherwise, what an asshole I’d be.

And a few minutes later, the front desk lady was all “HE’S ADOPTED” and that was that. No “I’m sorry” or “we really should have told you to come sooner” or “we’re sorry, we would have held him for you” or SOMETHING.

I sad-Charlie-Browned to the car. Where I wept. And cussed. And then wept some more.

I know. I KNOW. All things are meant to be, and blah blah blah, and it probably wasn’t the right TIME, or the right PLACE, and listen. I believe in all of that just as much as anyone you know. I really, really do. I live by that as much as I can.

But oh. Oh, I so wanted him. So very, very much. Because someday, Dumbcat will no longer be here. And this cat was two. And had a good long life to live. And I imagined him being Dumbcat’s younger friend, and making Dumbcat happy in his older years, and then having a cat when (shh, I don’t like to think about this) Dumbcat is no longer here to make me laugh every day.

So I cried in my car. Because some dismissive girl who got to the shelter just before me got him. And will she appreciate him like I would? I don’t know. Maybe. All I know is, she called him “she” three times while I was gathering up my things. And he’s a HE. So that’s a worry.

Then I went shopping to make the hurt stop, but only found ONE SHIRT so that didn’t help. And then my cable broke. And I got some shitty news. So it was a snowballing day of badness, and I’m going to take a cool shower and go to bed early because effffff.

Dumbcat waiting for me at home and wanting to be especially cuddly was nice, though. I told him about his long-lost brother. He just purred and headbutted my spleen.

I don’t want another cat. I want another DUMBCAT. Or, at least, one that looks enough like him that when that inevitable day comes that he is no longer headbutting my spleen, the hurt won’t devastate me as much as it might.

(Shush, I know there’s only one Dumbcat, let me have my fantasy, ok? OK. Great.)

So, if any of you are out and about in the world and see a homeless Dumbcat, and he’s looking for a home…you let me know. I’m totally willing to travel. Just promise me he’ll be there when I show up, ok? I don’t like crying in the car. It makes my glasses all fog up.

This one would be good. He looks sufficiently freaked-out enough to join my household.

This one would be good. He looks sufficiently freaked-out enough to join my household.


%d bloggers like this: