Happy Halloween Doods!

Why do I like it this year? Because the People aren't even gonna answer the door so I don't have to put up with Sticky People and their freaky costumes begging for treats, when I know perfectly well that I'm not getting any treats.

The Woman says it's because last year they only got 2 kids at the door and they were like teenagers, but I know the 2 ultimate truths:

1. They're cheap.
   
2. If they buy a lot of candy they'll eat a lot of candy, and expand their flabby asterisks.
   

I'm totally on board with the no Sticky People thing this year.

But, to celebrate anyway, I leave you with some festive LOLz...





Hahahaha...

AhhhhhAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!



It wasn't me but I kinda wish it was...

Wow.

When I started blogging I was two years old. TWO. I was like a feline sticky little person, but better because I was never, you know, A PEOPLE. I mean, I used big words like "egregious" and used them correctly.

Doods. That was seven years ago.



The cat blogosphere was a tiny, tiny place back then. So tiny that I couldn't find any other blogging cats at first. Then I stumbled onto Timmy's blog, and Prince Muddy's, and before I knew it, you guys all found me and there were more blogs and =BOOM= there was an entire cat blogosphere.

It was really nice to have other kitties to talk to, because my People? Not so entertaining. I had Hank the Dig back then, too, but being a woofy and all, his appeal was limited.

Since I started the blog, Hank has gone off to the Rainbow Bridge, and so have a lot of my cat friends. I miss them a lot, even though I know I'll get to see them for reals some day.

I've had to do the m-word more times that a kitty should have to in a lifetime, but I think those days are over. My people finally bought me a forever place; I mean, they were my forever family, but we didn't have a forever house, and now we do. I like the idea that this is it, this is where I'll leave for the Bridge from someday.

I got stuck with Buddah. Life was pretty good; I was an only pet and enjoying it, when all the sudden there was this little black puffball of terror, riding me down the hallway like I was a pony. I tried, but I still don't much like him. I still try sometimes, but then he bites and all bets are off.

I nearly died that one time. When Buddah showed up, so did Buddah cooties, and I'd never been immunized against them. I don't ever want to be that sick again. I mean, doods, I didn't want to eat! Not anything! And that's just not right.

But most of all in 7 years I've come to see how generous the kitties online can be, and how well they guide their people. Kitties raise money to help other kitties; our people raise money to help kidneys and MS, and BOOBIES. And they do some really tiring things to get that money.

I'd like to think I have another 7 years in me, but I am 9 years old now, and battle the bulge a bit. So who knows? All I know is that I've had a really, really good time, and you guys make my life all that much better, and right now, I'm more than a little bit nipped out.

So.

HAPPY BLOGOVERSARY to me!

Doooods.
MEATLOAF!
There was REAL food for dinner tonight!
Yeah, I know I mentioned it on FB earlier.
But...MEATLOAF!

It's Derby's birthday, and in honor of it everyone is celebrating 'Tocktober!

This is as close to our 'tocks as the Woman could get...



Happy Birthday, Derby!

The Woman thinks that when she took this picture I was looking off to the kitchen in hopes of food.

But really? I heard the Man say something about calling the dood who cleans the fire box thingy so that we can turn it on and have fires.

Dooods! That means fire box thingy weather is coming!

I have missed lying in front of it and getting my furs all toasty and warm. Summer is nice with the cold air blowing thingy and all, but nothing beats a good fire roasting your chestnuts.

Well...except maybe some primo nip. And crunchy treats And Stinky Goodness. But it's definitely in the top ten.

Doods, Look!

THIS KITTY GOT HIMSELF A VISHUS DEER!
AND LOOK WHERE HE STUCK IT!




Yeah, I think if I had caught one and jammed it into the wall, I'd be riding it, too...

Hey doods, today is Commander Spitfire's birthday. His blog is new, and it would be really cool if a bunch of us went over there and said hi and happy birthday. He's a year old! We all remember how exciting that was, right?

KILL THE SHEETZ!



Really...she can't change them without my help...

Doods, a fellow kitty needs your brains. Or actually his person needs your brains. Kind of like all people need help with brains, but this is specific brain-trust need.

OK. Wendell's person is looking at an apartment that's on the 10th floor, and it has ancient windows that open to the outside--no screens. It's not especially cat-safe and needs to be...if no good ideas can be coughed up, she's going to pass on the apartment, and other than the window issue it sounds like a good one.

So...ideas, please. What can be done to make these windows Wendell-safe, so that he doesn't accidentally plummet 10 stories down?

Baby gates are a no-go, the ASPCA says no.

Mucho thanks in advance.

DOOODS!



I don't know what he just ate, but I think we need some Vishus Deer Repellent, just in case...

Okay, so the Man finally went and got the Woman from her boobie walk; she's so slow that it took her longer than I thought it would. Three freaking days! I thought it was going to be one. I mean, she was so slow that she had to stop and sleep outside a couple of nights, and one night she was really, really cold but then Diva Kitty's mom told her how to be less cold (I think it was, DUH, yer kinda stoopid, you should probably learn how zippers work before going out in public) so when she had to sleep outside a second night, she wasn't miserable.

And in spite of all that practice, she still doesn't have it down pat. Monday she was walking like someone had shoved a broomstick up her asterisk, and it wasn't much better yesterday. And she says she can't feel her toes. Well, duh, lady, your fat asterisk + boobie walking = squishing nerves. But she's whining about it, and that annoys me.

Ya know, I get that walking for boobies is hard work but come on. Shut up and feed me already.

She and the Man took a lot of pictures and there were some, um, interesting people walking for boobies and helping the walkers walk for boobies. If you want to see them, CLICK HERE.

Lots of other things went on while she and DKM and Jeter's Mom and Skeezix's Food Lady and DKM's cousin were boob walking. I heard her tell the Man than Jeter's Mom wanted her to sing but she didn't know the words, and then later it was just funnier to not sing, but really? I know the truth. She was afraid that if she started singing their heads would explode and she'd be responsible for them not being able to finish walking.

Oh and dooods! People cheered and clapped for them while they walked! It's like total strangers knew that they'd been practicing and were happy that they were doing it and not falling over! People were so happy for them that they gave the boobie walkers candy (kinda like giving me crunchy treats, I think) all day long and there was one guy--he must have smelled them coming--gave them moist wipes to clean up with.

And look what they found!


Heh.

The Woman keeps talking and talking and talking about it...I mean, I like hearing about my friends' people and it just affirms for me that my friends are cool and have raised their people right, but come on. SHUT UP AND FEED ME!

But you know what the most important thing is?

THE COLD AIR BLOWING THING IS FIXED!

Doods! THE COLD AIR BLOWING THING IS BROKEN!!

BROKEN!!!

And the Man didn't go back and get the Woman, so it's safe to say he just left her there.

Chances are, she did something to deserve it.

Ok, the Man came home without the Woman. It's fricking hot in this house and I was kinda-sorta glad to see his opposable thumbs, because that meant he could turn the cold air blowing thingy on, but he left the Woman!

So either all that walking practice was for nothing and she's so bad at it that it's taking her for-freaking-ever to walk, or he got fed up and just left her there. Or maybe he just forgot her!

Meh. As long as he's willing to use his thumbs to open cans for me, whaddo I care?