the kitten chronicles - part 52 hopeless

Kittens don't judge. It's one of their most attractive features (and you thought it was those big soulful eyes - though maybe the eyes run a close second).Yes, it would have been mighty easy to snicker at the Big Cat in his T-shirt and underwear this morning at 6:00 desperately trying to iron a shirt for an 8 o'clock meeting. They could have mocked me relentlessly. Hey Big Cat, nice hair, fella! Or, hey Big Cat, why is one of your eyes glued shut this morning? And then laughed with that terrible mocking Eeeking kitten laughter. But no. The boys refused to pile on. Or kick me with a furry paw when I was less than my best. The boys give only unconditional love. Well, maybe a few conditions - but they're pretty minor. Feed me. Pet me. Don't introduce any more new litter boxes as some form of kitty IQ test. And I'm good with that. And don't we all need some unconditional love. I think I feel a song coming on "what the world needs now is unconditional love, sweet love." As I sing this the boys are thinking, "What a big hopeless sap!" But they resist saying it. Just barely. xxx dad

the kitten chronicles - part 52

The boys are under house arrest today. The cleaning lady is here. So they're confined to the office with the door firmly closed. This means lots of napping. Because although I put all their toys in the room they associate this room with sleeping - it's where they sleep at night - so they can be close to the Big Cat sleeping across the hall. Bee has pointed out however, that sleeping isn't the only thing they do in the room. They've also chewed through the phone cord disabling the phone in that room. So it's tough luck for them if they have some emergency and need to call out. They should have thought of that before they chewed through the cord! Hey, I wonder how much electrical charge runs through a phone wire? Maybe this accounts for Rooney's dazed state and his recent inability to find the litter box? He's had electro-therapy. Oddly, he isn't any calmer.Good thing he doesn't dip his feet in the water bowl like Rufus - wet feet plus electricity would give him a seriously bad hair day. Eek! xxx dad

the kitten chronicles - part 51

What can we learn from kittens today? Take the stairs. The boys favourite training site beats any toy (including Midnight Crazies)for fun that's never boring. One routine goes like this. One kitten lies on the landing at the top of the stairs. He pretends not to notice his brother at the bottom of the stairs. "La di da, I'm just chilling here having a little cat nap - I totally don't expect to be attacked". Then, the one at the bottom of the stairs twitches in anticipation, his muscles straining, like Clint Eastwood in the showdown of a spaghetti western. One little twitch. Another. "He's not expecting anything - the poor furry sap!" Then he charges up the stairs at breakneck speed and.."oh no, he knew I was coming!". They both leap 2 feet in the air and chest bump like they're celebrating a touchdown. Sometimes locked in a mortal death grip they'll both tumble all the way down the stairs without letting go. Because they have no bones in their bodies they survive this terrible fall. It's not all high energy on the stairs though.This morning they totally ignored me when I came out of the Big Cat bedroom. They were completely preoccupied by chasing an ant on the stairs. Both are now very accomplished ant hunters. I'm so proud. And to think just a couple of months ago they were just two scared balls of fluff who slept curled up in a heap on these very same stairs. Perhaps there's hope for the world after all. xxx dad

the kitten chronicles - half century

What happens when you have to write a blog on a slow kitten news day? No, the kittens aren't slow - the news is. Some might argue that every day is a slow news day when kittens are the subject, but they don't read this blog. So here's the status. The boys are happy. They purr when I iron my shirt. The purr when I put on my shoes. They even purr when I aim the the sprayer at them when they're on the kitchen counter. "Eek, don't shoot! I'm purring." And they haven't destroyed anything in 2 days. Even the scars on my shins are completely gone. What did Julie write about when she was executing some minor Julia Child recipe that wasn't that interesting? You know, like say, hard boiled eggs? I know,bitter fights with her husband! Damn, that's not going to work for the Big Cat. For now peace is in the valley. As I left for work, the boys perched on the top of the two chairs eyeing me through the living room window. Was it my paranoia or was there a gleam in their eyes? Could be trouble tonight. Stand bye. xxx dad

the kitten chronicles - part 49

Tales of wanton kitten destruction are very familiar to readers of this blog - but a good old-fashioned rip-snorting mystery, now that's new. First, the carnage. Came home last night to find the boys had somehow knocked Sam's prehistoric slate caveman depiction off the fireplace reducing 2 Grandy turtles to pottery shards. I can hear Joanie's voice, "Steve, those cats have got to go - they're destroying this house!".
Ho hum. I'm used to living in Beirut by now. So here's the thrilling mystery part. I got dim sum, ate it (delicious!) and left to go to the Beaches Jazz Festival. When I returned I found an empty plastic fortune cookie wrapper on the basement stairs. The boys had gotten up on the kitchen counter (more training necessary!) found the fortune
cookies and eaten one. Including the fortune. One theory. Or they just played with the cookie as a toy - but then, where are the broken cookie crumbs and the fortune? And since when do cats like cookies? Anyway, I wonder what the fortune read? "Kitten who eats fortune without reading it, misses the chance to know his future."xxx dad

the kitten chronicles - where's my whip?

The Big Cat only vaguely remembers the rules for training wild animals neatly assembled in The Life of Pi. #1. Make direct eye contact #2 Never turn your back on the wild animal #3 Establish territory. Or something like that. I'm not sure kittens are trainable anyway - but I persist. Making direct eye contact I yell at Rooney, "get out of that plant!!!" And then for good measure, I squirt him. He just looks back at me using all his devious powers of kitten cuteness, somehow making his eyes bigger and moister - but maybe that's the spray bottle -and seems to say, Why?, Big Cat Why?
I'm sure Sigfried and Roy went through this many times and would probably counsel
old-fashioned teutonic persistence - I'm thinking a skin-tight spandex suit and a German accent would lend more authority to my commands. Still, I try in vain to school them not to jump on the kitchen counters, not to rip the leaves off all my houseplants, not to chew on electrical cords - wait - there's a pattern here. Everything involves "not" doing something. Perhaps, if I tried to get them to do something instead? Perfect.
Tonight we'll start with jumping through a flaming hoop - off the kitchen counter.
That ought to challenge the little fur faces. xxx dad

the kitten chronicles - part 47

Dogs wake you up in the morning because they want to be taken outside for a walk. But kittens? What the hell do kittens want at 6 in the bloody morning? The Big Cat's fawning attention, apparently. Just the smallest noise from my bedroom like a toilet flushing, for example, rouses them from their very light slumbers next door in the office and has them "Eeking" and scratching at my bedroom door. "It's morning, Big Cat! Come and greet the dawn with us - it is fine!", their Eeks tell me. Usually I can't hear the pathetic mewling, but the fan in the bedroom has starting making a noise like
a Midnight Crazy ball jingling right in the bedroom - so I turned it off. Wait, maybe that is an actual Midnight Crazy ball and the boys are ringing it like an alarm bell.
Slowly the boys are breaking their leader down through sensory deprivation.We will
break you like a twig, Big Cat! Like a twig. xxx dad

the kitten chronicles - part 46

Naming the boys after variations on "ruin"has proved to be very appropriate. A day without devastation is like a day without sunshine in the Big Cat's house. Yesterday they knocked a plant (I moved to the livingroom to save) off the stand smashing the Grandy bowl that held it and leaving the floor a soggy shard-filled mess. Am I upset? No. Because of small victories. Rooney is using the litter box. Whoo hoo. Although he is still confused and for the past 2 days I've caught him scratching on my chair ready to deposit a surprise - then I quickly scoop him up and toss him in the litter box and he does his business in the correct receptacle. The boys have also decided the wing chair is a dandy scratching post and the uphostery is dotted with hundreds of tiny pinholes. Sigh. The Big Cat is happily using 2 spray bottles to enforce the rules of the house - but frankly I can't keep up with the boys trail of destruction. And if I sprayed them for every offense, they'd both be dripping wet at all times and would catch kitty pneumonia. Plus, the coughing from the pneumonia would keep me awake at night. The Big Cat needs his sleep after all.xxx dad

the kitten chronicles - part 45

Not everyone can handle change. This was proved this weekend at Chez Big Cat. I had posted earlier in the week that the new Clever Cat litter box was proving a problem for Rooney and despite me catching him making scratching motions on my chair and plunking him unceremoniously into the litter box - he never got the hang of it. That is putting it mildly. Saturday morning, I sat down and tried to read the paper all the while getting a distinct smell of cat poo. Had Rooney had another accident? But where? The Big Cat got up from his chair to have a look - and immediately uttered a piercing scream causing kittens to fly out of the room. The cause? On the chair was smeared cat feces - the rest was on my shorts. The Big Cat had failed the Princess and the Pea test miserably and had plunked himself down on a big turd.It takes a big cat to admit failure and admit it I did. I cleaned out the Clever Cat super-smart litter box and dropped it off a Goodwill (barely used). Then I picked up the $3.99 Loblaws litter box we had been using and reinstalled it in its rightful place. Harmony has been restored in the household. Rooney happily kicks the kitty litter all over the floor - but he uses the litter box. "The world is so big and we are small", goes the kindergarten adage "change is bad". Rooney is a Luddite just like the Big Cat. xxxdad

the kitten chronicles - part 44

The war is over. The kittens have won. It is with considerable abject humiliation that the Big Cat tenders his complete surrender to a very well-coached kitten team.Here was the final straw in the 3 month-long power struggle. Opened the door last night, a kitten walks out the front door, followed by his brother, Luckily for me they seemed dazed and confused by their freedom and I quickly scooped them up. Rooney was already walking down the front stone steps. Scared out of his mind by this, the Big Cat staggered inside, plopped the kittens down - and immediately I was assaulted by an even more heinous occurrence - cat poop on the living room carpet!Apparently the boys had scaled the barricade and then were trapped in the living room all day with no access to their litter box.With predictable foul results.What to do? As I got in my car this morning, I looked back to see both kittens pressed against the living room window.The little scheming fur faces! Clearly, as soon as I leave, they jump the wall and enter the forbidden room. So a chastened Big Cat went back in the house, tore down the blockade and opened the doors. The house is theirs. All is lost. Hail to the victors! xxxdad

the kitten chronicles - rooney's bad day

Pee in the wrong spot and it can get you in a lot of trouble. Just ask Ben Rothlisberger. The bad boy quarterback of the Steelers is being criticized for peeing in the woods while playing a round of golf. The black and white kitten is Ben Rothlisberger in a fur suit. Yesterday, he peed on my chair, peed in the "fort" and twice missed the litter box with a pile by a foot. To be fair, Rooney is befuddled. Where the hell is the litter box? OK, there's this big bin thingee sitting where the litter used to be - but where's the freakin' litter box?, Big Cat! Thinking we would all just take a step back to happier less messy times, I took the Clever Cat lid( with the hole in it) off the top of the fancy smancy new litter box. Now he just has to hop in. Hell, his brother can do it. And give him a superior look,too - Eek! Anyway, the poor little gob-smacked black and white fur bag has one more day to get his act together. And then.... that Clever Cat litter box is going straight to the Blue box. Or maybe I send Runes to a school of higher learning? P. U.?xxxdad

the kitten chronicles - part 42

It's official, I have one clever cat. And one...well, not so clever. Readers of yesterday's blog know that the Big Cat began a kind of social experiment yesterday using cats as lab mice. I installed a high-walled litter box with a lid on it called "Clever Cat". The cats jump in through a hole in the lid - by doing this they can be acknowledged as "clever". Anyway, some kitten is not getting it. I was greeted on my return home yesterday evening to a neat pile of cat poo right beside the litter box." So, which of my two boys is a little slow?", I ask myself. Well, I've actually seen Roo-face use the new set-up, so... that leaves one very confused black and white culprit. This morning things got worse. Way worse. I came up from my morning shower and stared in horror - a huge puddle of cat pee was pooled on the Big Cat's personal chair. So now it's war, is it? Fine. I picked up both boys and tossed them in the study (the cleaning lady's coming today). But when I picked up Rufus, he actually hissed at me! Brotherly solidarity? So this battle is shaping up as two against one. Let the games begin, my little treacherous friends, let the games begin. xxx dad

the kitten chronicles - part 41

Today we launch a big experiment. A kind of intelligence test for the boys. And all for less litter box odor. Here's what's up at Casa Big Cat. On the weekend I picked up a new litter box for the kittens. They had destroyed the old one ripping its plastic side and spilling litter all over my floor. In an effort to remedy this I purchased a new high-sided litter box with a difference. It came with a top - a top with a hole in it. The idea is the cat leaps up on top of the litter box and then jumps into the litter box through the hole in the top. It's called Clever Cat - although I seriously question how clever you are if you leap into your toilet. The instructions say "cats are naturally inquisitive so your cat will discover how to use it". This morning I put the lid on the box. Now it's up to the young fur faces to prove they are indeed Clever Cats. No pressure, boys. But if I return home this evening to a house full of little hidden surprises there will be hell to pay. They are pretty smart though. I ask them what a mouse says and they reply,"Eek". Pray for me. xxxdad

the kitten chronicles - part 40

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the kitten chronicles - part 38

People now think of me as a Cat Man. I know this is slightly confusing as I refer to myself in this blog as the Big Cat, but I mean in the" Crazy Cat Lady" male counterpart sense. Well, it is just me and the boys rambling around that big old house - still, people now seem to think cats have taken over. They want to donate more cats to the cause. Oh, he has cats? Maybe he'd like another?
Or maybe another kitten or two?? This is going way too far. As regular readers of this serial can attest, the whole central theme
to The Kitten Chronicles is my pathetic struggle to deal with the two rambunctious young felines I already have. Hilarity ensues as I am routinely overpowered and overwhelmed by two small balls of fur and their destruction of my home. Clearly I can't even handle 2 tiny kittens!! What makes people think I love cats so much that I'd like another 3 or 4? That truly would drive the Big Cat crazy. Besides, the boys and I have our own secret language and we'd have to teach the other cats that. Wouldn't we, boys?
"Eek", they reply. I'd tell you what that means- but it's a secret behind the 3 of us. Crazy Cat Man, indeed! xxxdad

the kitten chronicles - part 37

There's a reason they call it a "cat nap". Because the fur- face brothers are absolute Zen masters of catching Z's. And when you do a lot of sleeping, you need a lot of sleeping places. This weekend I stumbled upon a new one when I was cleaning the basement. It was high up on a pile of rugs that sat on 3 trunks piled up. This lofty bed was just inches from the ceiling of the room and must have given the boys the feeling that they were young lions sleeping perched in a tree branch. Very inspiring. Makes me sleepy just thinking of it. Then, I witnessed the perfect "Garfield" moment that afternoon. They got up from their nap in your Mother's office and walked 3 steps out the door when they encountered a sunbeam on the rug- and then- just like the famous cartoon cat -they could continue not one step further. They just melted onto the floor smack in the middle of the sunny spot. Why fight the feeling? Yet another important life lesson courtesy of my feline housemates. Night, night, boys. xxx dad

the kitten chronicles - 37

All boys love their toys. It's not just rhyming, it's true. And my boys were due for some fresh amusement. Midnight Crazies just weren't cutting it anymore. So imagine my delight when Grandy produced 2 new toys for the fur-faces. The first is an As Seen On TV, ramp-shaped board that the kittens are supposed to use as a scratching post. You entice them to do this by sprinkling the
board with catnip. Oh oh!. Now the boys are on drugs. Rooney lay on his side on the floor and spun around in circles batting at some invisible opponent. Rufus got the munchies and finished off all the kibble. They both looked slightly dopey and happy.
Then they had a nap. No nail-sharpening ever took place. The second toy is a horrible ,shaggy, black, miniature "kitten" that when pressed on, makes first, a series of gentle recorded meows - this lures the boys in. Then without warning the thing begins to screech "EEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOWWWWWW!!!!!!" This makes the lads jump back a foot in sheer terror. They get their revenge
later when its stopped its screeching and they chew on it. They still sharpen their claws on my shins. Oh well.xxxdad

the kitten chronicles - 37

The Big Cat rose with a song in his heart and a tune on his lips. "They call me Purry Pete, I do the rhumba on furry feet/ And everybody go Meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow". A happy tune - but not to the liking of the boys. They thought it cruelly mocked them. So they made tiny pin holes in the arms of my shirt, as I ironed. Fine. Get your shots in lads, there's no raining on my parade today. My furry pals were actually in a pretty good mood themselves (until they heard my song). They leaned against the bedroom door, opened it, and then came marching in like a pair of kids on Christmas morning ready to open presents. Maybe this inspired my song - I like to think it did. Them, not so much. Maybe they're not Jim Carrey fans.
Not everyone is, you know. The world seems divided on this. I'm pretty sure they like Carmen Diaz though, I mean who doesn't?
xxxdad