the kitten chronicles -part 202

Sorry for the long time in between posts, loyal followers. Interruption of employment will do that. That's right readers, the Big Cat is on the dole. This makes for much more time with the fur-brains. I may be getting on their nerves. "Why is the Big Cat always home these days?" "He constantly stops us from our valuable work in home destruction - we're now hopelessly behind schedule!"
It's true. The boys have only succeeded in destroying a small throw rug in the past 3 weeks - small potatoes for a world-class
demolition team like Rufus and Rooney. Other things have taken up their time. Like critters coming into the house. Last weekend I was sitting reading the Globe when the boys and I heard a chirping coming from the living room. I assumed a bird had flown down the chimney and was trapped in the house. So I picked the boys up and put them in lockdown in the study so I could deal with getting the trapped bird out. I looked in the room - no bird. I thought I must be imagining things. I released the boys and sat back down with the paper. Then came a new flurry of high-pitched chirping. Back into the living room to investigate. The lads stood back at a safe distance from what looked like a chubby, short-tailed mouse. They carefully poked at the thing with their paws - it made the chirping noise. The boys were very entertained. A new cat toy! How splendid! The new guest turned out to be some kind of vole or mole. And given its stubby legs it couldn't really evade the boys. But boy was it fun to play with. And play they did. But very gently. No tossing it in the air and catching it in their mouth like they often show off doing with their stuffed mice. After half and hour of "investigation" I intervened and removed the visitor with a tea towel and put him shell-shocked, but otherwise fine in the front garden. So how are you going to top that excitement, boys?, I asked the delighted felines. Quite easily, as it turns out. This morning a bird did fly in the house. This provoked a different response from the boys. No more careful restraint. Instead both cats charged after the crazed sparrow leaping several feet in the air. They immediately chased the bird down into the basement working as a deadly tag team. I followed with a blanket hoping to catch the latest visitor before they did. But as I was going down the stairs the boys were heading back up - the game apparently was over. I checked each room for signs of feathers and random mayhem - nothing. The bird had flown up the basement chimney. Rooney and Rufus looked at each other. "Next time, brother, next time." xxx dad

the kitten chronicles - part 203

I've had some inquiries about the boys from readers of this blog so consider this a kind of update. One asked does Rooney still wash his feet in his water bowl? No he's no longer a foot-washing Baptist. But the fur-brains still spill their water bowl in protest of something - maybe because I give them tap water and they'd prefer the Cedar Springs water from the cooler. Another reader asked, "Do they still sleep on the stairs?" Yes, the other day I found them sleeping on the stairs in front of my room, one on each stair, guarding my bedroom like they did when they were tiny kittens. This choked me up. How is their destruction of your house going? Well, I no longer have a carpet in the living room - they made short work of that - and the rug that was in the hallway, as well. Good job, lads! The house plants are so scraggily they don't interest the boys anymore. They're working diligently on the 2 leather chairs and should be finished destroying them by Christmas- if they don't get distracted by the curtains. Final question.
Do they still scratch you? Not so much. Although occasionally one will notice my bare foot tapping time to the theme from So You Think You Can Dance and will plant his claws in said foot to stretch himself. This causes the Big Cat to scream. Which isn't very soothing when you're trying to have a nice, peaceful stretch. The Big Cat can be very annoying this way. And that remains consistent. No question about it. xxx dad

the kitten chronicles - part 202

Zak Gaiifianakis is my choice to play the Big Cat in the upcoming movie of The Kitten Chronicles. And his career arc is moving in the perfect direction. The Hangover Part I - a huge hit. The Hangover Part 2 - not such a hit. And what's coming next? Obviously
The Hangover Part 3 - a total stinko disaster. By then he'll be begging to get in the cat suit. I showed his picture to the boys and they clawed the page. But I think it may have been because I spilled some chili on it while coming up with this plan. The boys love my chili. Frankly, they love whatever I'm eating. This results in me frequently tossing them out of the room. I think Rooney hoped I would also toss the chili stained portion of the newspaper with Zak's picture on it. That I'm saving in the pre-production file.
I also like Robert Downey Jr. for the part. But the boys find him scary. It's sleeping in the baby's crib that freaked them out. I told them that was a long time ago but they reminded me that the two Siamese cats who jumped into the baby's bunk in Lady in the Tramp never worked again in Hollywood. They're both pretty up on the Hollywood dirt - especially the stuff about cats. xxx dad

the kitten chronicles - part 201

After 200 episodes of Seinfeld, Jerry gave each member of the cast an M- class Mercedes. After 200 Julia Child recipes the Julia-wanna-be author celebrated by eating her entire output of Gateau St. Henri and reportedly gained 3 pounds the next day. So after 200 posts about cats destroying my house something fitting should be done. Maybe a pottery sacrifice. I could buy a really bad figurine from Goodwill and place it just so on the dining room table and the fur-faces could celebrate by cheerfully knocking it on the floor. Or maybe I could get the boys their own recyliner something with a nubbley fabric they could really sink their claws into.
Or I could leave the fridge door open all day and the boys could forage at will. Do they like feta cheese? Lets find out. The best thing might be to just move the stove. I'm pretty sure there are over 100 stuffed catnip mice, beer caps and Midnight Crazy balls trapped behind there that the lads have been trying to valiently fish out for months. Oh hell, I'll just give them a toilet paper roll
and watch them make their own confetti. xxx dad

the kitten chronicles - part 200

The fur-faces are very excited about the 7th and final game of the Stanley Cup. Are they hockey fans? Not really. It's just that there is chanting from the crowd each night during the game that whips them into a frenzy. All because of the Canucks goaltender Roberto Luongo. When he's playing well the Vancouver fans all chant Loooooooooooooo!! And when he's playing poorly the Boston fans all chant Looooooooooo!! The cats think they are saying Meeeewwwwwww!! And it gets them very excited. It's like there are 17,000 cats in the stands at the game all trying to communicate with my boys. All the Meeeewwwwwing!!! (really Loooooooing!!)
makes them run around in circles in front of the TV set mewing frantically in reply. So tonight's game whether it's good or bad for Luongo is going to be exciting for cats. The only outcome they won't like is if Vancouver starts Cory Schneider in net. Corrrrrry!!!
doesn't sound like mewing at all. How disappointing. In that case they'll probably go upstairs and have a nap. I might, too. xxx dad

the kitten chronicles - part 199

My mornings are starting earlier and earlier. The sun rises around 5:30 or so these days and the boys are determined I should be up with it. It's a bit like having a newborn baby in the house - but more irritating. My next door neighbours actually have a newborn and they tell me she sleeps so maybe I should kindly offer to swap the fur-brains for the baby for a couple of nights to help out? They might just take me up on it. Suckers. This morning Rufus did his trick where he knocks over the giant vase with a great crash to get the sleeping Big Cat's attention. This was at 6:15. Now I'm used to the noise but what I'm really worried about is that the vase will fall on his doofus brother one morning crushing him. So I plan to move the vase into the bathroom each night before I go to bed. Then we'll see what they come up with. Maybe slamming the study door. Rooney does this already and gets trapped in the room for hours.... Wait this is going to be great. They both go into the study. Slam the door. And get trapped.
Meanwhile the Big Cat peacefully snoozes. Perfect. xxx dad

the kitten chronicles - part 198

Cats are moody. Whoo boy, you say what a newsflash. But true none the less. Rooney found a hidden Midnight Crazy ball behind the TV the other night and was instantly reverted to excitable kitten state. Much racing around the house ensued. The next day I picked up the same Midnight Crazy ball and threw it in Rooney's direction. No reaction. He calmly walked by it leapt up on the chair and went to sleep. Just not in the mood I guess. Same goes for the Nature Channel. Some days I open the back door and put a chair in front of the screen door and the boys can't wait to jump on the chair and gaze longingly outside. Next day - no interest.
"Try to keep up will you, you pathetic, insensitive Big Cat." Food is their only consistent interest. Not a moment goes by when they aren't completely ravenous. Forget the toys and the screen door, Big Cat - produce the food!!!If I did it on demand I'd have a pair of lolling 400-pound furry behemoths on my hands in no time. And at that weight they could push any piece of furniture in the house over to get my attention. A terrifying thought. Actually, no need to push over furniture - they could simply pin me to the mat UFC-style until I tapped out. I must maintain my weight advantage or all is lost. Think I'll have fries today at lunch. xxx dad