Cat in the hat...or the box...or the...

My cats like to sit / nap in weird places. Their favorite place, though, is a basket of clean laundry. You'd think that J and I would learn and just put the stupid laundry away right away, but as this sampling of photos shows, we don't learn.

I sort of understand a basket of soft, warm clothes. I don't understand a school bag full of pencils and notebooks...

In the next picture I wasn't fast enough to catch Zoe in the box...I was fast enough, however, to catch the blur of her backside as she jumped out. I don't know why this picture makes me giggle, but it does.

Santa Claws

As I have mentioned about a million times, J and I don't have kids. We want them, but we are not parents yet. In the meantime, we expend a lot of time, energy and attention on our cats. They are our furry children...sort of.

Anyway, I was at my mom's recently, digging through her drawer of old photographs and I came across this one. J and I had taken Zoe to get her claws clipped at PetSmart (back before we had Sid and before I was brave enough to clip her claws myself). When we arrived, we were simultaneously horrified and delighted to find that we could have Zoe's picture taken with Santa Claus! The photo shoot cost $7, and you got two copies of your Polaroid picture. The profits went to local animal welfare. We thought it was ridiculous, but couldn't pass up the opportunity to have Zoe sit with Santa.

If he asked her what she wanted for Christmas, she didn't tell us...

Here's hoping it doesn't leave a scar

I have two cats, and I really do love them...most of the time. Yesterday afternoon Sid was not at his most lovable.

I wrote in an earlier post (Funny Feline Friends) that Sid is a cuddler. He doesn't want to sit next to you, he wants to sit on you. Most of the time I love that. Especially because Zoe does not really like to cuddle. Sometimes I hate it. Yesterday was one of those days.

We've had pretty rotten weather lately, and yesterday was no exception. The snow all melted, and it was beginning to warm up so the wind picked up. I've never lived in a place as windy as the Tri-Cities. Yesterday, though, was especially windy and we have a huge tree in our backyard.

When I got home, I took off my school clothes and got into comfy pjs. I went to the living room to sit down and watch some television. (I always need an hour or so to decompress after a long day at school.) Things were going well. Sid and I snuggled down with the down blanket, and got ready to watch an episode of Dirty Jobs. Then something happened. I still couldn't tell you what. My best guess is that there was a gust of wind that blew a branch into the window, or onto the roof and it made a noise that startled Sid. All I know is that the cat FREAKED out, and desperately tried to claw his way off my lap. Unfortunately, he didn't realize that I was not holding him, he was just sitting there. I say unfortunately because his claws ALL made contact with me. Several of them made contact with my face. I'm sure I screamed, but I can't tell you really what the order of events was. I was just sitting there, and then I was in a lot of pain. I immediately started to cry, and then my face started to hurt.

I felt something dripping off my nose and my chin, and assumed it was tears. But then I looked down and saw...oh my goodness...I felt faint...I saw blood - and a LOT of it. It was literally dripping off my face.

Now, I like to think of myself as a calm and rational person, but I'll let you in on a secret: yesterday I was NOT calm, and I was NOT rational. I cupped my hands under my chin and went running for the bathroom sink and mirror. I was not prepared for what I saw. My face was bleeding profusely from three distinct areas: two under my right eye, and my nose. I turned on the water, rinsed my hands, left the water running, and dashed into the hall to grab a washcloth from the closet (I only have "nice" white towels in the bathroom for guests - not blood), and into the kitchen for the phone. Then it was back to the bathroom before I made a mess of myself and my house.

I picked up the phone and tried to call J. No answer. I tried again, and again, no answer. By this point I was still crying and hyperventilating a little, so who else do you call when you're panicking? Yup, I am nearly 30 years old, and I called my mom. The phone rang...and rang...and rang...then I think her voicemail picked up, but I never heard the beep to talk, so I just sat there crying hysterically until I gave up and hung up without saying a word. Then I tried J again. Still no answer. (FYI: My mom called me back at 10:20p.m. to see what was wrong, and to tell me she nearly had a panic attack when she listened to a phone message of one of her girls crying hysterically. She had no idea which one of us it was, and was freaked out thinking something horrible had happened. I guess her voicemail did beep...I probably missed it when I was wiping blood off my face and feeling sorry for myself and crying hysterically. Sorry, Mom.)

That's when I got really desperate. I tried to calm down, and then I dialed my step-dad, John. Now, you have to know John to know how desperate I really was to call him in a medical emergency. He's a great guy, but ever since I was little, he usually has let my mom handle any and all crises. (And by usually, I mean always.) The phone rang...and rang...then the voice mail picked up. You've got to be kidding. At this point I was seriously contemplating a trip to the emergency room because the bleeding was not slowing down, and I thought I may need a stitch or two under my eye. I know I was still not totally calm because running through my head was "Crap. How in the heck am I going to get my bra on and get dressed with one hand holding a compress to my face? I can't be seen in public without a bra! What if I run into one of my students?!?!" Well, honestly, who cares?

I was rinsing out the washcloth and getting it wet again to put it back on my face when the phone rang. I took a few deep breaths and answered. It was John.

John: "Hey, what's up?"

Me: (In a relatively calm, yet wavering voice.) "Um, well, I was just wondering where Mom was?"

John: "She's at school. She's got class tonight and won't be done until 10. Why? What's up?"

Me: (All in one breath and crying hysterically again) "Because Sid scratched me on the face and I think I may need stitches, and I can't get ahold of Jess and then Mom didn't answer and I'm all alone and I'm bleeding A LOT and I'm in pajamas and I don't know what to doooooo!!!"

John: "I want you to take a deep breath and calm down....okay, now tell me again what happened?"

Me: (A little calmer, but still verging on hysteria.) "I was sitting on the chair and Sid was on my lap, and then something scared him, and, I know he didn't mean to, but he jumped out of my arms and scratched my face. I'm bleeding all over, and it's not slowing down."

John: "Okay. I want you to get ahold of yourself, and then go to the Urgent Care or the Emergency Room. They'll help you get it cleaned up, and they can tell you if you need stitches or not. I don't want you to wait for your mom or J if you need to have something done now. Can you do that? Can you drive yourself to the Urgent Care?"

Me: "I think so. I'm not wearing a bra, though."

John: "Well, go get dressed. Then go to the Urgent Care and call me when you get there, okay?"

Me: "Okay. Thank you."

The conversation helped calm me down a bit, and when I got off the phone I took a closer look at my face. I had a deep scratch under my eye, but it looked like the edges would still meet when it stopped bleeding. My nose was really sore, and there was blood on both the inside and the outside. I could see the scratch on the outside, and I couldn't tell for sure, but I thought there was a cut on the inside, too. As I was deciding whether or not I was going to go to the Urgent Care, I glanced down to see how much blood was on my shirt and noticed some puncture wounds and pretty good scratches on my arm. Thank God there wasn't any dripping blood there, though. Then the phone rang. I answered, and it was my sister T. She was very calm, and said, "Okay, I want you to tell me what happened. I heard John telling you to go to the Urgent Care."

I took a deep breath and then freaked out again. I tried to tell her through my tears, and she interrupted me. She made me take some deep breaths and then had the nerve to criticize me. She said I wasn't breathing out enough. I was SO grateful for her calming tone, but at the same time, in the back of my head, I was giggling to myself. She is a nursing student, and has just completed her second week of class. She was already doing phone triage stuff!

Anyway, T got me calmed down and gave me step by step instructions for washing, then told me to call her back when I was done. I knew I needed to use soap and wash all of the scratches, but apparently I needed someone to tell me to do it because I still hadn't. I asked her which soap I should use: Country Apple or Harvest Peach. They're both anti-bacterial, but one is a foaming soap and one was a lotion soap. (She chose foaming Harvest Peach, in case you were wondering.) I took care of the easy ones, then called her back and asked what to do about the cuts inside my nose. Imagine my surprise when she said to put soap on my finger, and then pretend I was picking my nose. I laughed right out loud. She stayed on the line while I did it, and pointed out that at least I was going to be smelling peaches instead of regular soap. Then I had to rinse, so instead of dunking my whole head under water, I just got the corner of the wash cloth wet and stuck it up there. (For future reference, this worked really well, but I sure don't recommend getting cuts on the inside of your nose. Not really a pleasant experience overall.)

Once I did all this, T made me rinse out the wash cloth again, get it wet and cold, and then go sit down and put the cold compress on my face. She said to keep it there for 15 minutes and call her back. I spent that whole 15 minutes trying to get ahold of J with no luck. I called T back, finally calm, and finally not bleeding, and thanked her for her help. She said no problem, and we hung up.

About 14 phone calls later, J finally called me back. He was a little annoyed with me because I had been calling so much. Apparently he was in a meeting and had left his cell phone on his desk. Someone brought him his cell because it had been ringing off the hook. I burst into tears and got pissy with him. I said "Where were you? I needed you, and you weren't there!" Ouch. That wasn't very nice. True, but not very nice.

He felt bad because I was crying, and wanted to know what happened. I gave him the brief version of the story, and then said I didn't want to talk. He tried to tell me to go wash with soap and put Neosporin on my cuts. I cut him off and said it was already taken care of, and we didn't have any Neosporin. Then I all but hung up on him.

When he got home, he came bearing gifts. He handed me a bouquet of flowers on his way in the door. Then he was rustling around the kitchen for awhile. He brought me some Ben and Jerry's Creme Brulee ice cream (SO fattening, but SO good!!), some Coca-Cola in an old fashioned bottle, and a Beanie Baby teddy bear that was wearing a backpack and had "School Rocks" embroidered on his little feet. When I looked inside the backpack, there was a tube of Neosporin! How sweet! I almost forgave him...almost...

As a result of my traumatic experiences I got this:

And this:

Here's Sid checking out the gifts, wondering where his was. After all, I did yell at him. And then I cried hysterically for about half an hour. And then I did not let him climb back up into my lap. He was traumatized, too, you know.

And unfortunately I also got this:

And this:

It's hard to see the bruising, but the entire right side of my face is really sore and tender. I'm pretty sure he kicked my face with his back claws. And I decided to spare you the pictures of the scratches in my nostril and on my right breast.

Here's proof, though, that I really do love my Sid-Gato, even though his claws are dangerous. And he's a scaredy-cat.

Poor kitty...

Last week I took both Sid and Zoe to the vet. I had Friday off, and they were both overdue for their shots. I called that morning, and got them an appointment for the afternoon. Things went well at first. Sid walked right into his crate and all I had to do was close the door. Zoe, on the other hand, HATES to go in the crate and will fight with all her might to avoid it. I managed to trick her, though. I put the crate in the bathroom in the bathtub and shut the curtain. She likes to cuddle with me when I am using the bathroom, so I put down the toilet seat and sat down. I called her, and she came running. The dummy didn't even register that I had my pants pulled up. I closed the door behind her and then stood up. When I opened the shower curtain she was not happy with me. I think she knew she'd been had. She put up minimal struggle and I got her in. Then we were on our way.

They both "sing" in the car...I hate it. They sound like they are being lead to their death. And one sets the other off, and it's like they can't even hear my voice...they just keep crying until we get there. It wasn't too bad this time, though, until...

Sid had an accident in his crate on the way to the vet. It's the second time that's happened to him. I feel so bad when it happens, but there's not much I can do about it. You can let a dog outside and tell him to take care of business, but a cat sure doesn't do that. The vet techs were super, though, and cleaned him up as soon as we got there. He was being such a good boy that they went ahead and gave him a bath instead of just drying him off.

They commented on how sweet my cats were, and how well they tolerated being poked and prodded and didn't protest at all. No meowing, growling, hissing, or spitting.

Then the vet and recommended a pill that prevents worms. I said sure, so the vet tech went and got the pills and her nifty pill dispenser that prevents cat bites. Of course Zoe had to go first, and of course she couldn't continue to be a good cat...she had to show off for me and Sid, and spit out the pill. Not once, not twice, and not three times but four times. The tech gathered her supplies and Zoe and went into the back room for reinforcements. Turns out it wasn't necessary...she really was just showing off for us. The tech was able to get her to take both pills without struggle in the back room. Go figure.

She received a clean bill of health and then we let her crawl back into the cage she HATES at home but LOVES at the vet, and it was Sid's turn. He did great. He, too, got a clean bill of health with one exception: his teeth. They were in bad need of a cleaning. I've been noticing that he has really bad breath, and figured it was time for a teeth cleaning. Unfortunately, those are pretty spendy.

But, if it needs to be done, it needs to be done. I agreed, and set an appointment for the following Friday.

J dropped him off in the morning before 8 on his way to work. They kept him all day for this procedure. I couldn't go get him until 5 p.m. Poor Zoe was home alone all day. She was certainly lonely because when I got home, she was waiting for me by the door. She hasn't done that since we got Sid. She followed me around the house and wanted me to cuddle her. She doesn't do that usually, either. I left to go get Sid before J got home. When he got home, Zoe was all over him, too.

The strange part was when I brought Sid home. He was still a little groggy from the anesthesia, and wasn't acting like himself. He must smell like the vet, too, because Zoe won't come near him. If he tries to get near her, she growls and hisses at him. It's been 24 hours now, and poor Sid is still being shunned by Zoe. It's almost as if she doesn't know who he is.

He had a heck of a day yesterday, and then came home to that. Poor guy. He did great at the vet, though, and his teeth look great. His breath smells better, too!

Here are some pictures of his experience:

When he got home he immediately started chewing on the bandage that was on his arm, so I took it off before I got a picture of it. Here's where they had to shave his arm to put in the IV.

Here's the before picture from the vet of his teeth. It seems like it's hard to see, but it turns out that his teeth were REALLY gross.

Here's the after. Nice and clean and pearly white again!

Here's the toothbrush they sent home with him. Yeah, right. Like I'll be able to brush my cat's teeth. I'll let you know how it goes! We're supposed to give his gums 10 days to heal before we try it.

Here's the dental "chew" they sent home. It's coated with cat toothpaste. They gave me two. Both cats ate it right up. I think I may have to get some of those and see if after they get used to the taste of those they'll be more inclined to let me brush their teeth.

Here's the t/d food they sent home. They LOVE this stuff. J and I have been giving it to them as "treats" for two years now. My cats are dumb. Because Zoe has food allergies and intestinal issues, we have to be careful about what we feed them. So we put either their plain dry food in a treat can, or the t/d. They don't get real treats, they get t/d or z/d (their regular food) from a can, but they LOVE it. My friend tells me I have the dumbest cats on the planet. I figure it's like telling a little kid carrots are a special treat and giving them veggies instead of candy, right? It's better for them, and if they think they're getting a treat, they are.

Here's the bandanna they sent home with Sid. Thankfully they didn't put it on him. I think the fabric is super cute, but I think bandannas on cats look stupid.

I would take a picture of Zoe being mean to Sid, but I can't catch them with the camera, and I don't want to make Sid get hissed at any more than he's already dealing with it. But here's Zoe keeping an eye on the situation, making sure Sid doesn't get too close to me or get too much attention she feels is rightfully hers...

UPDATE: My cats now hate each other. Actually, that's not true. Zoe hates Sid. She has started two full fledged fights with him now. They didn't even do that when we first brought him into the house. They sniffed each other, were wary for a day or two, and have been best friends ever since. Until Friday, that is. It's now after midnight on Saturday, so it's technically Sunday, and she is still hissing and spitting whenever he comes near. Poor Sid is traumatized. He just wants to cuddle, and she won't let him come near. Brat. I've now got food and water and a litter box in the extra room, and have locked Zoe up. According to the internet, it will take a few days to "reintroduce" them to each other. AARRGGHHH!!! Why do cats have to be so dumb?? From now on, they will go everywhere together. Even if I have to pay extra. Just so they are always together and always exposed to the same smells. That's the only thing we can think is wrong...he smells like the vet.

Update 2: It took almost an entire week to the day for the cats to start getting along again, but they are now just as close as they were before the fateful trip to the vet. We did have to lock Zoe up when we went to work for a few days, but it was okay in the long run. Yay! They love each other again.

Funny Feline Friends

J and I don't have kids, but we want them. In the meantime we have to satisfy our shutterbug tendencies on photos of our two cats, Sid and Zoe. Sid is a black and white tuxedo cat. He is the cuddliest cat I've ever known. He is not happy sitting near you, he wants to sit on you. And unfortunately he doesn't care what you want. If you want to cuddle, you're in luck. If you want some space, you're out of luck. He's persistent. He won't sit on your lap very often...he crawls up onto your shoulder and then flips onto his back with his paws in the air. Imagine cradling a sleeping infant...that's my weirdo cat. He also is quite good looking. I like to tell him he's pretty, but I get corrected EVERY time by J...boys, apparently, are not pretty, they are handsome. Whatever.

Zoe is a pretty, brown tortoiseshell tabby. She has HUGE feet, long legs, a long tail, and furry ears. We were told that she may be part Main Coon Cat...she's too small to have much MCC in her, but she's awful cute! She is not much of a cuddler. With me, anyway. She likes to sit on J's lap. I think she does it to make me mad. Sometimes she sits with me when I'm at the computer, but that's pretty rare. She does, however, sleep with me. Under the blankets, between my knees. Weird.

We have hundreds of pictures of our cats...but these are just a few of my favorites.

I told you he likes to be cradled like a baby. We've compromised and I am allowed to rest his back on the table or desk when I'm working so I can have one hand free. If I'm not busy, though, it's not acceptable to rest him anywhere. I have to hold him.

Again on the shoulder and in the face. He's just too cute to resist! Fortunately, we broke him of the GROSS habit of sucking on earlobes pretty quickly.

Told you she'd sit on his lap. Ever since we brought her home she's been drawn to his lap. I think it's because he has freaky long legs and big feet, too. She feels a kindred spirit. And, compared to my lap, his is spacious...she can stretch out and get comfy!

Last time she sat on my lap, I was able to take a picture of it...you can see what she thought of that!

Sid likes J's lap, too. When they watch tv together, J often lets Sid choose the channel. They both like sports, Dirty Jobs, Ghost Hunters, and NCIS.

She much prefers J's back!! I'm not sure what he was doing on all fours, but she took advantage of the situation and jumped right up. She would NOT get off, either! I had time to go get a camera and take multiple pictures.



Sid can get into some odd places. We were in the living room and could hear him meowing in the kitchen. We couldn't find him, though, until J looked up. There he was above the cupboards! J is 7 ft. tall, so you can see the cupboards are pretty high. Somehow Sid was able to get all the way up there! We think he either took a huge jump from the counter, or took a leap of faith from the fridge. (The fridge is right behind where J is standing in this picture.) He only did it a few times, but it was pretty funny.

Zoe, too, can get into some strange places. She loves the linen closet. J pulled the towel down. I'm not sure why. To give her some privacy as she sullied my clean towels with her long hair?




Who knows why cats do what they do. She HATES water, like most cats. Yet I walked into the kitchen one day and found her chilling out in the sink. Bizarre.

Heaven forbid my school bag stay open and on a flat place. She simply can not resist it. If I have a lot of grading to do, she's excited!

I told you she sleeps under the covers with me at night. I'm not making it up. I wish my cat were normal, and that these pictures were staged, but they are real. Both cats use pillows like they were people. And if Sid is around, Zoe practically dives under the covers. I have claw marks all over my legs where I apparently didn't move the way she wanted me to in my sleep. J, too, sleeps under the covers. Weird, I know. He was NOT happy to see I had taken this picture of him napping with the cat. He's even more unhappy to know I'm posting it on the web. But it's his fault...if he weren't so darn cute...

I just love this picture. It's hard to capture a black cat's features, but this one turned out great!




There's nothing better (or cuter) than two cats cuddling in a basket of clean towels.

Unless it's two cats cuddling together on the couch.

He is the yin to her yang. Except for when they are playing what J affectionately refers to as "grab ass" and chasing each other around the house as if they were going to kill each other.

Aww...aren't they cute!! J is a night owl, and I'm a morning person, so I am often able to catch him catnapping if I get him up early. Especially on a winter weekend day. We don't have kids, so we like to indulge ourselves and sleep whenever and wherever we feel like it. The cats thought he had the right idea, so they joined him.

Two small cats on a queen size bed, and they sleep right next to each other. They're so cute.