Seven.Caged.Tigers

Apologies for my lack of updates.  This last week flew by.  It’s not that I did much.  I mean I went shopping, played with my son, made a flower arrangement (I’ll take a photo at some point, I’m pretty happy), got new reading glasses, and exercised.  What fun.  Jeremy and I also made the choice to get rid of Max.  It’s been a long time in coming.  We’ve been considering it for years (like 4-5 years).  He’s gotten worse since Zack’s arrival too.  Litterbox issues, puking issues, dominance issues, and he seems generally unhappy.  Today we drove over to Capital Area Humane Society (where we got him from) and surrendered him back.  It was terrible.  I feel like I failed him.  Zack isn’t too aware of what went on.  He was there, but Max really isn’t too kid friendly.  Not saying he ever bit or scratched or hissed, but he’s also very aloof.  Anyway, we are now a 2-cat home.  No more Max, long live Sara and Dewey.

So what–we only have three cats. “Only.” We have one that is incredibly large, though he’s not *quite* as big as I thought. Dewey had to go to the vet because he needs to go back on a diet. He was a few lbs. lighter than I expected, but is still fat beyond usual animal obesity. I think he falls into feline morbid obesity. He is fortunately also very friendly and Zack’s best kitty friend. At the vet, all the staff were laughing about him. They love his name and said he’s so fat it’s funny. True, true. His bloodwork was fine aside from the obvious, his fat. It was so high that they couldn’t get a reading on it. Ever heard of such a thing? I haven’t. Anyway, here’s a recent photo of the fluffy little beast.

Big fat Dewey went on a big fat vacation yesterday.  I shut him on the front porch but unfortunately the front door wasn’t latched.  He squeezed his big fat butt out into the wilds of Hartland.  I’m not sure how much time he spent out there, but he came to the back door when he deemed his escapade complete.  I also don’t think he liked it very much.  He’s definitely an indoor cat.  Unfortunately he also definitely rolled in a dirt pile. Stupid kitty.

Well, I have this nutto neighbor. Actually I hesitate to call her a neighbor because she doesn’t live in the house.  She and her probably equally insane hubby buy homes to “flip” and then just plant crap on every surface and in every nook and cranny.  There is junk everywhere.  Lots of ancient garage sale finds and the like.  JT and I have these bizarre conversations with her.  She has no clue about anything.  My mother swears she must be a mentally ill hoarder.  I concur.

In any case, about a year ago a big ol’ doberman showed up on the property so as to protect her empire of shit from being stolen.  It barks day and night and nobody really takes care of it.  This morning when I headed out the back door I was immediately barked at.  The dog was in my back yard, tied to the usual run but in my back yard.  Nice, eh?  Me, with Zack in the stroller and the only thing between us and the mean dog was the fact it had wrapped itself around a bush sometime in the night.

Crazy lady has already been threatened by both the township and animal control in regards to this property.  The township made her clean up her empire (she sort of did so–at least the El Camino disappeared).  The animal control already investigated the case and the dog had food and water.  Well, I got the animal control out and they took the dog away.  Apparently they already knew her.  The same lady who investigated earlier was the one who picked the dog up.  She’s also the person who adopted the dog out to crazy lady a year or so ago.  The dog has NEVER been anywhere but on that property.  It is there to protect the empire of shit–nothing else.

In any case, I feel bad because I don’t want the dog to die or anything but I’m pleased as pudding that it disappeared from the property.  My other neighbor will be genuinely happy also as he was the one who had animal control called last time.

Zack is now 12 weeks old and still incredibly adorable. He’s big, cute, and sleeping through the night. I know everybody is jealous. He actually started sleeping through the night a week and a half ago. He’s continued the routine much to my happiness (and relaxation). Here are a few new photos with my new camera.

Smiling (with his tongue):

Sleeping:

Looking Cute (it’s sooo natural):

And then a few new more flower pics…

Thistle:

Queen Anne’s Lace:

Weird Purple Flower:

The Princess:

Who knew you could not eat for 48 hours and still be relatively okay. I guess that’s the kind of thing you find out when you’re stuck in the hospital for three nights…

That’s right. I was released from the U of M hospital after two nights in high risk LDR and a night in a lower risk area. Basically I was admitted because of my blood pressure, extreme swelling, and borderline labs. As it turns out I’m actually pretty okay save for the fact that I’m stuck on bed rest until the little guy enters the world. I still think it will be another two weeks but I know for a fact it won’t be any more than 3.5 weeks. I can’t wait. This pregnancy hasn’t exactly been rainbows and kittens for me.

In any case, I’m bored. My life now revolves around whatever crap is at my bedside. Boy is this fun.

Oh. My. God. My cat officially weighs 24lbs. To put that in perspective I have another cat who is just 1/3 that size. Seriously, Dewey is a monster. All he does is eat, sleep, and shit occasionally. Fortunately he’s also incredibly lovable. There isn’t a nicer cat anywhere–and I’m not in the least bit biased.

As to his laziness, we got our new leather furniture. He has “adopted” the recliner. He’ll jump up there and flop down with a thud. He sleeps with his head propped up on the arm rest. It’s a classic Dewey fat ass behavior. I suppose we should get him on an exercise routine. He’s already on a “diet” but because of Sara’s trouble eating (she doesn’t have many teeth) and Max’s dominant issues the only thing we’ve thought of doing is leaving his diet hairball relief Iams out all the time. I think he eats like 3-4lbs of food a week.

By the way, prior to actually weighing him I estimated his weight to be 23lbs at the top end. I’m almost embarassed to admit I undershot that by an entire pound. Even worse? He’s a very, very short and very, very stubby cat. I honestly figured he couldn’t gain any more weight once he hit 20-21lbs. I was wrong. Very, very wrong.

The proof (as they say) is in the pudding:

And for a sweet little kitten picture…

I woke up in the middle of the night to my husband snoring (and then subsequently coughing) like a madman. I turned my head and got a face full of purr and fur. Dewey was laying right at my head. He’s so fat, my nose sinks right into his side. Alas, all things considered purring is much more soothing than snoring or coughing. Plus, I think the cat liked the attention. Me? Well, I never have gotten used to the taste of fur in the wee hours of the morning.

Plus, have I mentioned that JT and I have a double bed with an incredibly crappy mattress? Well, we do. And we are both nearly 6′0″. Factor in the “roll to the middle” issue of the crap mattress, the cat at our feet and the cat on my pillow and we are left with roughly no space at all.

Well…at least I had Thai for dinner last night. Mmmm…drunken noodles….mmmmm…. I love me some hot, HOT, HOOOOT food.

Thank you, Andrew, for your offers to do away with my little terrorist. He is a beast in furry, fluffy kitty clothing. However we have come up with a solution to our strife! Dewey is now behaving himself because we threaten him nightly with the water bottle. It sits on our headboard staring him down. He rarely challenges it. Even better? He even is thinking twice about pawing us for attention. Last night, he was sitting next to JT looking for loving. He extended his paw shakily, Jeremy looked at him, and he backed down and put the paw back on the floor.

We have trained our little terrorist for the moment. He is once again king-kitty.

Last night was an evening of ANTM 5. I’m such a sucker for that show. There are plenty of fireworks this season with clashing personalities, egos, and morals. It’s all incredibly interesting. I love watching a good cat fight. Last night saw one of the gals eliminated. Coryn got the boot for looking and behaving “sad.” Her pics were consistently gorgeous, but I guess that’s not enough.

Anyway, here are a few photos:

Nicole (The Adorable):

Bre (The Bored):

Coryn (The Eliminated):

Dewey is a terrorist. He’s not a run-of-the-mill mild annoyance–he’s graduated into full-blown Jihad. Of course I’m pretty certain that my cat doesn’t have a religion (outside of a borderline fanatical dedication to food) but that doesn’t stop the fact that he is truly and completely a suicide bomber in fat cat’s skin waiting to crack.

It is easy to dismiss his intentions based on his innocent looking face, his sluggish movements, and his preoccupation with sleep. Don’t let those things obscure his severe case of cat-insanity. I’m really not sure what the real signals for terrorism are (if Bush were to have his way the only prerequisite would be a Middle Eastern background), but I’ll take a shot at it.

I’ve already mentioned his fanatical obsession with food–to that I must add that he requires a great deal of attention. When he does not get his requisite petting he begins to push. Considering he’s no small fry, the pushing is very noticable. I guess this goes in line with what a terrorist might do. He also likes to hide. He waits for the perfect opportunity to pounce on unsuspecting animate and inanimate objects. Dewey may as well have strapped a vest of dynamite on his body. Finally and most disturbingly he is incredible at spreading his own version of gospel. He pokes us, claw exposed, to get attention. Guess what? The other two little peons have started to do the same thing. Clearly Dewey is an influential personality.

Now, of course, on to the incident(s) that percipated my declaration that my cat is a terrorist. Dewey wants love, Dewey wants touching, Dewey doesn’t care what time of day it is. I’m accustomed to him bugging JT in the night. However, the big fat cat has now come up with a new plan. Instead of actually sleeping close to us, he is fixated on our window that is directly next to our bed. He sits atop either the headboard or the blanket chest. In either case, he then progresses to mew pitifully and scratch the trim and window (the glass part of course) incessantly. I’ve never, ever encountered something that so reeked of terrorist activity in my life. He has kept JT and I up all night for the past week with this insanity.

Dewey. Must. Die. Okay, not die, but SLEEP. We’ve tried to keep him awake all day. We’ve tried to give him more attention. We’ve tried to distract him with food just prior to going to bed. We’ve tried to shut the door. None of it works. Last night, JT got serious and filled up the water bottle. One squirt to Dewey’s rump and he disappeared for two whole hours. We may have found a solution.

Maybe that’s what Bush needs to do with his “terrorists.” He just needs an industrial sized water bottle. In the meantime, I’ll continue my anti-terrorism tests on my cat.

Here his is…plotting his revenge:

I must be boring. Nobody is leaving comments. Stroke my ego occasionally, why don’t you?

The other morning, Jeremy and I woke up and noticed blood on our windowsill and on the headboard and on the blanket chest in our bedroom. We hadn’t heard any massive cat brawls in the night so we couldn’t figure out what happened. We then tried to find more blood only to discover a good smear or three across the tile at the back of our house. A little detective work turned up that it was our dear, stupid Max. He didn’t have any bumps, scrapes, or bruises. It was his cat-talon which had been split in three ways. Poor kitty. He’s now very meek and mild and cautious. Until, of course, his paw feels better. Cats are stupid like that.

All three have been fighting like mad. Sara had a massive scab (probably seven inches long) on her side. Max had a big ol’ deep scab on his side. Dewey looks like he probably was to blame for it all as he sits back confidently and without any real care in the world. That’s one sturdy animal. Nothing hurts him. We’ve, in fact, given up on trying to comb mats off his ass (he apparently can’t reach past his mid-section). Why? Well…you can grab them and pull them out and he barely flinches. One would think he’d care. He does not.

And because I haven’t shared a gratuitous cat picture in a while, here are three!

Stewie’s Quote of the Day: “Let me guess, you picked out yet another colorful box with a crank that I’m expected to turn and turn until OOP! big shock, a jack pops out and you laugh and the kids laugh and the dog laughs and I die a little inside.”

I would just like a day (or even better a whole week) of no responsibility and no worries. Of course that’s never going to happen, but this girl keeps on wishing for a tiny miracle. JT and I went to a wedding for my second cousin, Katie. Don’t ask. My family is very weirdly close. It was a good time, but the ceremony was at 2pm with the reception immediately following. I got tired and indigestion around 8pm and had to leave. ‘Tis the story of my life. It was a good time though–thank you Katie and Mark!

This weekend we also got to see Ray finally. It was a great movie. Of course immediately after that I decided we had to go try to spend money at Best Buy. It’s even free money and I still couldn’t come up with anything good to get. Talk about feeling like a loser! Immediately after, we headed to Petco to get a few new fish and inquire about our Litter Mate. We bought the auto cat little thing early last month. It broke after just two or three weeks. However we’d already thrown out the box and receipt (we’re stupid, okay) so we didn’t think we could return it. Petco was very kind and generous–they did it with no questions asked and gave us the same model in exchange. Oh yes–they also gave us a receipt which is now plastered on the fridge just in case something else happens.

I saw the news that Beck joined the White Stripes on stage. I would have given my right breast to have seen that show. Both are fabulously talented and both are among my favorite acts. It really is too bad that I limit myself to one or so show a year. I just don’t get enough joy out of seeing perfomers live to justify spending $100 for two tickets. Maybe if they were free to me I’d be at more.

I really, honestly hate to tell cat stories but I have to. You all have met/seen Dewey. He’s a good kitty with a sweet personality and an insatiable need for attention (when he’s awake, which isn’t too often). He sleeps a lot, eats a lot, and beats up on Sara and Max a lot. But he also loves a lot.

Jeremy and I were working on the patio (which is looking lovely, BTW) last night. He was sitting by the door just begging to be let out. Of course they are inside cats but since he doesn’t really run (or can’t) he’s easy to watch. I let him outside while JT was gathering more patio bricks and was following him around as he rolled over and over again in our nasty black, sandy dirt. He has a lot of thick fur and is almost completely white on his legs, neck, chest and belly. It came as no shock that when I picked him up his white had turned to grey. Talk about a nasty, dirty cat. He was still grubby this mornings also though you could distinctly see white patches where he’d vaguely cleaned himself.

In lieu of Dewey’s (aka Jabba) outside adventure I give you a portrait of a 21lb cat. He loves you…he really, really does.

Last night I was picking up a little bit around the house. Just before bed, I closed the drawers on my dresser in part so that the cats wouldn’t sleep on my clothes all night long. Of course, I neglected to actually peer inside said drawer. I read a little of my current book, White Plague by Frank Herbert and entered the land o’ sleep.

This morning, I woke up as always at 5:15am. I was greeted as always by a 20lb cat and a mewing 9lb grey cat. Nothing was out of the ordinary. The princess (aka snarly bitch Sara) doesn’t usually awaken from her beauty sleep until a few minutes later. Just in time, of course, to gulp her gourmet shower water post-human cleansing. After jumping out of the shower, I noticed she wasn’t around. She’s usually anxious to jump in the tub and waiting just outside of the curtain. Sometimes she even jumps in with me for a moment (stupid kitty).

Not this morning. Kitty was nowhere to be found. So I paced around the house calling for her. Not as if she’d actually answer, but I figured enough yelping would lead to a location. No luck. I walked into the bedroom and noticed that stupid grey kitty and fat orange and white kitty were pawing at the dresser. Yes. THAT dresser I shut the drawer on the night before. I opened up the top drawer and princess looked up and me. She stood up, stretched, and lazily jumped out from her jail. I sniffed around expecting the worst while feeling incredibly guilty. Sara did not punish her captors. I went to dig her up and she seemed just like her old self.

Needless to say, I still feel guilty for closing her in such a dark cramped space for eight hours. But she didn’t cry or paw or ANYTHING. Apparently she’s on the same sleep schedule as JT and I. Go figure. Hmph.

ANTM last night was unsurprising. Like I said in my previous entry, Brita was apparently (at least in the model world) overweight. I think she was 137lbs at her last weigh in. The judges referred to her as either a side of beef or a slab of meat–I can’t exactly remember. The fact that she went before Brandy mystifies me. Brandy is trouble, full of herself, and not at all a “blank canvas.”

Speaking of chicks, my sister sent me this link. Apparently a pet chihuahua in China has adopted a chick. The weird little dog guards it, carries it around, and generally loves it. My bet? Some day it will go CHOMP and the chick will be no more, but for now it is simply adorable. Check out this picture also from Ananova of little Huahua and her/his pet.

Don’t you just hate how quickly weekends fly by? I mean, I have like 60 hours to unwind after a long week of work yet it’s not enough. There’s never, ever enough time come to think of it. Friday night was boring. JT and I went out to eat at Chili’s and then came home, watched a movie of some variety, and fell asleep. Friday also marked the receipt of a fabulous gift from Epinions–a FREE gift with NO strings attached (believe it or not, but you can get free stuff and money on the net if you work for it–nothing is easy). In any case, I got an Archos 20GB Personal Video Media Center thingie. It’s pretty cool. Basically, you can record things from your TV, VCR, DVD, or TiVo and watch them back on this little nifty device. I’m enjoying it thus far and look forward to my next long road trip.

Saturday was slightly busier. It was capped off by my cousin’s little girl’s 4th birthday party. Olivia had a great time. Those kids are getting so big so quickly. Her big brother Dakota is about to lose his first tooth. It was the first thing he showed me when I walked in the front door. That was just prior to him exclaiming that he loves parties because “they smell good.” Kids are so cute.

Sunday was rather quiet. JT left for Pittsburgh for training. He drove out there rather than flying. In any case, that leaves me here alone with the cats. Fortunately, I don’t feel uncomfortable being alone–I live in a safe area and commute to a safe place. He’ll be back on Friday afternoon. I already look forward to seeing the boy again.

Here are a few pictures from this past week…click to see glorious full size.

Max & Dewey are in Love

Olivia “posing”

Olivia opening birthday gifts

Matthew watching the festivities

Sean, Jim & Jeremy at Mt. Brighton

Aren’t we cute? (of course we are…)

The New Years festivities went nicely. It consisted of hanging out with college friends (it’s been five and a half years since those days), drinking, eating, and playing games. It really was a nice time. I miss them all (including Claude who admitted to reading this site on occasion–a fact that surprised me more than a bit).

Outside of that, I really want to share a few pictures taken with my brand new Casio Exilim EX-55 digital camera. I’m so impressed by it all that I find it IMPOSSIBLE not to boast.