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

the kitten chronicles - part 197

I awoke this morning to a rather loud crash. I knew immediately what it was. If I don't spring out of bed when the boys start scratching on my bedroom door Rufus pushes the giant vase filled with dried flowers over. This never fails to awaken the Big Cat.
And so the day begins. The boys thrive on routine. And when that routine is broken chaos ensues. For instance, they have been trained to expect food when I enter the house - this is our weekday schedule. I return from work with the mail in hand and they swarm me they're so hungry which sometimes results in mail on the floor of the hallway. But on the weekend I may go in and out of the front door many times - and every time I re-enter Casa Big Cat they feel I should give them a can of Miss Mew Tuna Pate.
This isn't happening I tell them. Why Big Cat why!! Ideally they would prefer every day to be consistent. If this means they get 12 cans of food Saturday and Sunday this would be perfectly OK with the boys. Also when I'm around the house on the weekend I'm disturbing their schedule. Sometimes I interrupt them just in the middle of destroying something - the nerve of that Big Cat!!
Why isn't he at work? The slacker! We cats have pottery to reduce to shards and leather chairs to put thousands of tiny pin holes in.
And all he does is read the paper. And not feed us. Almost forgot that. I sense the boys have little respect for their leader. xxx dad

the kitten chronicles - part 196

Did you know that the average house cat sheds its own weight in fur every month? OK I made that up. Entirely. But if you had to vacuum the couch at Casa Big Cat you would think it was very possible. The lads shed great clumps of floating fur everywhere. And yet their coats remain mysteriously the same! They are two very dynamic hair growing machines. Really their hairball problems should be off the charts. I wish there was something constructive I could do with all this fur. Hats and mittens would be nice - hey, kitten mittens! Maybe you don't want the full-time responsibility of taking care of a cat. But with mittens made out of Rooney's fur you could pat yourself. Very soothing. Could be just the thing for hospitals and old age homes. When I get home tonight I'm going to empty the vacuum cleaner and start knitting. Kitten Knittin'! Even the name sounds soothing. xxx dad

the kitten chronicles - part 194

Maybe I should have named the black and white fur-brain Houdini instead of Rooney. He is proving to be quite the devious escape artist. The trick to successfully getting out the front door and into the very exciting world of outside is timing. You can't just run straight off when the door opens - you hang back, so you're not noticed, then at the last second- bolt into freedom. It's like Prison Break. Luckily, like a long time resident released from some dark jail the escapee is often dazzled by the brightness of the outside. It's best to scoop up your indoor cat when he's in this state. It also helps that Rooney doesn't seem to quite know what to do when he makes it outside. This morning Rooney zoomed through Rod's legs as he struggled to get out the door and on to Adam's grad ceremony at George Brown. The Big Cat gave chase. And was so close to catching the black and white evader. But Rooney proved a speedy teenager cat can stay just ahead of an angry hobbled old Big Cat.I only caught him because he tried to squeeze through the wire fence into Bill and Yvonne's and got stuck. It's quite possible he doesn't know they cancelled Prison Break. xxx dad

the kitten chronicles - part 193

For the Royal Wedding, our receptionist's brother dressed his cats up in little outfits to watch the broadcast. The boys snickered at this news when I informed them. Then they got a look of fear in their eyes and hid under the couch in the living room. They probably had visions of the Ol' Big Cat fashioning them some Canucks jerseys out of crepe paper and duct tape. Fear not lads, while the Canucks are my rooting preference I'm strictly a Maple Leaf fan so the odds on you finding your furry body compromised by some homemade blue and white outfit is incredibly remote. Even if Burkie claims we're only 3 players away from glory. The boys found that statement even more hilarious than the story of the cats in tiny waistcoats and fascinators. But then they share the Big Cat's fatalistic sense of humor about the home team. What they don't know is I'd put them in tiny western outfits for an Old 97's concert any day. Rooney would look amazing in a miniature 10-gallon hat, trust me! xxx dad

the kitten chronicles - part 193

Warning!!: The outside world is a terrifying place. Just ask Rooney. He has been outside a grand total of 3 times in his life (not counting the time Sam and I took the boys outside as little kittens) and 2 out of three times it has been pouring rain outside
rendering him soaking, freezing and miserable. And 2 out of 3 times it has also been dark. Hey, what's that thing with the ringed tail and a mask on - it looks like it could kill me!!! So now we have an established pattern for when he bolts out the front door.
Each time he's done it recently, he's somehow found his way to the back door and runs back inside drenched and scared out of his mind. I dry him off with a tea towel and he goes downstairs to the Muskoka Room to sleep off the nightmare of the outside world on the bed. I imagine Rufus might venture around a little if he ever went outside. But Rooney is all impulse and then regret. "What have I done?" he thinks, I've traded a life of warmth and delicious Seafood pate for darkness and wet misery - I'm a fur-brained idiot!". Rooney would have made a piss-poor explorer. Queen Isabella most likely would have recognized this and not given him a boat. xxx dad

the kitten chronicles - part 192

How would the boys fare in the wild? It's a question I mull over regularly. Not well is the answer- especially if they didn't have canned food and a can opener. The lads I fear are very domesticated. Last week I gave them what I thought was an incredibly tasty treat - raw duck livers and hearts. Knowing what wimps they are I even chopped them up a little to make them easier to eat - bite-sized portions. Rufus rejected them completely. Rooney dragged them around the floor creating a bloody "kill zone" that looked like lions had dragged an antelope inside the house. OK, I thought maybe if I cooked them they boys would find them more to their liking? Into the microwave they went. Rufus turned his nose up at the cooked pate. Rooney chased it around the floor again.
This behaviour would lead to starvation in the wild. They'd catch dinner and play with it instead of eating it. Fancy Feast it is then,
boys. The good thing is if I keel over from a heart attack the boys won't eat me - they'll just remove my liver and kick it around the living room floor. xxx dad