He remembered!

THERE IS REAL LIVE FRESH DEAD SHRIMP IN THE REFRIGERATOR!!!

SANTA DIDN'T FORGET!

Santa Came!

Yep, Santa came and he left me a stocking full of cool stuff AND he wrote me an IOU for some real live fresh dead shrimp. He didn't want to leave it in my stocking because the people run the fire a lot and warm real live fresh dead shrimp can upset a guy's tummy, and it might have gotten overlooked in the fridge, so he's sending me some this weekend. I think either the man in the bloo shorts or the guy in the brown shorts is bringing it. So I have something to look forward to!

But still...I had a lot of fun on Christmas. The Younger Human came over, and he's always fun to see.

There was a box on the floor, on its side, so I got in to explore...he set it upright! With me in it! I think he thought I was trapped, but I fooled him. When no one was looking, I jumped out. And it's a good thing I did, because the Woman was getting my stocking down, so that I would have something to play with while they opened presents.

One of the things I got was a new nip banana...Santa must have known I probably wore out my old one. This one is awesome...super powerful nip! I realllllllly enjoyed it...but even though the Woman thought that would keep me occupied, when they started opening their presents to each other, I jumped in her lap so that I could help.

This is what happens when you try to help. You get a ribbon put on your head. But I think I look very handsome here. That'll teach 'em.

Later on, we watched the new Doctor Who Christmas Special...don't tell anyone, but the Younger Human had it on a USB thingy and we got to watch it HOURS before it aired in the US. Sssshhhh. But it was awesome!

And after that, there was dinner, and then the People played Doctor Who Monopoly. In that picture, I'm consoling the Woman because she lost first and went down in flames. They didn't let me play...I think they were afraid of losing to a cat.

You might notice that Buddah isn't in any of these pictures... HE SLEPT THROUGH IT ALL! He slept through Christmas! But that meant *I* got to play with everything first, and I got to get MY spit on everything first! I even got to rub up on all the toys that Santa brought for that Damned Dog Butters!

I even did this:

 

I played with one of Buddah's favorite toys. I played the chit outta that thing, chasing the ball all around. That sucker lights up! I attacked it for a while, then plopped down on it and took a nap.

This was an awesome Christmas. Santa didn't forget me, I mostly had the People to myself, I got to play with everything first AND I still have real live fresh dead shrimp coming!

Life is soooo good.

Ho Ho Ho Doods!

Proof that they need me

Ok, so I have a couple of specific jobs in this house, primarily relating to the Woman and making sure she gets done the things she needs to do. I wake her up every morning at a reasonable hour, because otherwise she would sleep until Too Late, and she doesn't like sleeping until Too Late no matter how much she whines about getting up at Just Right.

Writing awesome books isn't my only job here...

Once she's up, I herd her into the bathroom, march her to the giant litterbox so she can do her business, and then I hop up on the counter and headbutt the medicine cabinet so that she doesn't forget to do drugs take her medications.

After that I herd her down the hall into the kitchen so that she gets herself a fizzy drink, because that's what she likes first thing in the morning. If she doesn't get one, she sits in the living room and forgets, and then she gets so thirsty that it hurts, because there's something broken in her brain. For reals. I'm not being mean. If I make sure she gets a fizzy drink, then it's like she remembers that she needs to drink before it hurts, and she keeps drinking.

She doesn't always need reminders about what to do before she goes to bed, so I don't always keep an eye on her. Which was a mistake last night.

She remembered to grab a drink before she went to bed, and I heard her brushing her teeth because her brushing thingy buzzes, and I know she used the giant litterbox because I heard her make it swallow. But I was in another room and didn't watch all this going on, which was a mistake.

After she went to bed, I needed to tell her that she forgot something, but after all these years she still doesn't understand Cat. Which, when you think about it, shows a lack of intelligence, because *I* understand People. And I'm WAY younger than she is. Anyway, I stood in the hallway yelling at her that she forgot something, but all she did was ask me what the problem was.

So I jumped on the bed and told her, but all she did was try to give me head skritches--which I normally don't mind, but there was stuff to attend to.

I went back into the hallway and tried yelling at her again, but no.

So I jumped up and gave her head butts, then ran, meowing at her.

Doods, it took an hour of me talking and yelling and headbutting to get her to finally realize that I wasn't playing or trying to get petted, I was trying to tell her something important, so she got up and followed me.

Into the living room.

This was in October...yep, it's a repeat

Where she had left the fireplace on.

Look, I love having it on. I love soaking up the warms. And since it's not a wood fireplace and it's gas and in a nice case, it would have been all right, but I know she doesn't want it left on at night, because she does not want an unattended fire.

She learned that from her dad, who did not want a fire in the house, because he once had fire EAT his house when he was a sticky person. So even though our fireplace thingy is about as safe as they come, she doesn't like risking it.

She was very, very upset with herself last night, but she was very, very happy that I wouldn't leave her alone until she got up and turned it off.

I even got crunchy treats! And not just one or two but like SIX.

But, yeah, it's proof that I'm not just a pretty face for the people to admire.

These people need me.

Do you see this? Do you?

Tonight the Woman wrapped a couple more presents and stuck them under the tree.

 

I have looked more than once, and doods, there's not a freaking thing under that tree for me. Nothing smells like a Max present, my name isn't on anything...nada.

I've been good this year, too.

Worse, I didn't ask Santa for anything because this has been a hard year for others and I figured it would be better if he just focused on them, because, you know, I have people who can get me stuff.

There's nothing under there for Buddah, either. He knows it, too, so he keeps trying to gnaw the ribbon off one the Woman's friend sent her, and if he succeeds he's keeping it. That seems fair.

At least it's not like last year when there was a giant bag for that Damned Dog Butters. I don't see anything with his name, either.

Good.

Secret Paws!!!

Doods! Look what came! MY SECRET PAWS PRESENT! And my Secret SantaPaws is Ms. Stella!
Ok, it was for Buddah, too, but my name was first! See?

First, we sniffed it:

Then, we discussed who got to untie the ribbon. 

We figured that was best left to someone with opposable thumbs.

Like, the Woman

There was so much in there!

Here I am, sniffing the totally rad Nip Chili Pepper:

And there were Temptations Crunchy Treats!

MY FAVORITE!

And doods. DOODS.

A CATNIP QUILT!

Handmade by Ms. Stella's mom, Ms. Stacy!

IT IS TEH AWESOME!!!11!

I got to use it first. AND got the nip pepper first!

Buddah POSED on it.

He was a little bit...lit...by this point.

Then he got his turn at the nip pepper.

Ms. Stella...and Miss Jack, Scrappie Cat, Miss Jenga, Clyde, & Oliver, thank you so much! Your gifts are wicked cool and we're both loving the carp out of them!

Make it so, doods

Ok, this is crossposted from the Woman's blog because she wrote it and doods, it should happen. Share it. Get your friends to share it. Let's turn this coming week into something really good.

 --------------------

Ok, so for far too many people, crappy week was…crappy. One farkwad shot up a mall, followed by another shooting up a school...The enormity is hard to comprehend; the loss of so many kids is especially hard to understand.

Don’t get me wrong: it’s difficult to comprehend shooting anyone. For anything. I cannot wrap my head around being so broken that I would pick up a weapon and take out so many innocent people. I’ve been angry enough to want to bitchslap a person back into the 1800s, but have never felt like I wanted someone dead.

But…that’s not even what this is about. This is about the collective pain felt around the world. I doubt unless you’ve been in that situation, you can really empathize with the victims or their families and friends, but you can still feel buried in sorrow, disbelief, anger…and impotence.

That impotence, the wanting so desperately to be able to do something for someone you can really do nothing for, I understand that. I would think that we all do, because there aren’t many people out there who haven’t wanted to reach out in a situation where one simply cannot.

In spite of the violence of this past week, I still stand firmly in my belief that most people are basically good. There is evil in this world, but more than that, there is good.

If you look hard enough, it’s all around you.

A few weeks ago, someone on reddit posted a question: what’s the nicest thing someone has done for you?

A lot of people have done a lot of nice things for me, but the one that immediately popped into my head… First off, if you’ve read my blog from the beginning, or near it, you know that I have diabetes insipidus, one of the lingering issues from a pituitary tumor in 2002. The result of that is that I am frequently thirsty. Very thirsty. It’s a violent thirst that until I experienced it, I never would have imagined it possible.

I take medication for it, but sometimes it wears off early, and I turn into a drinking and peeing machine.

One afternoon I was at Walmart, and started feeling the thirst ramp up. So on my way out, before it reached proportions of Oh Holy Hell, I stopped at the vending machine to get a soft drink. Hey, 50 cent Walmart brand diet cola-like product, not so shabby, and it would do the trick.

I stood there, wrist deep into my pocket trying to find enough change, muttering to myself because all I could feel bouncing off my fingertips were a couple of dimes and a few pennies, when this guy reached over my shoulder and dropped a couple of quarters into the machine and said it was on him.

Before I could protest—I had a dollar in my wallet and the machine took bills, too—or even really thank him, he had turned and was walking away at a pretty good clip.

This guy had no way of knowing that I wasn’t just some chubby, middle aged housewife caving into a sweet tooth and getting a sugar-laden can of crap. He had no way of knowing that I was truly thirsty, deep down painfully thirsty. He just saw someone struggling to come up with a couple of quarters, and was thoughtful enough, and generous enough, to buy her a no-return-expectations drink.

It was such a small gesture, yet for me huge in the generosity of it, that it stuck with me.

Random act of kindness.

I’ve thought about that question posed on reddit on and off since. As I recall, there were thousands of answers, but that didn’t and doesn’t surprise me. People do nice things for other people all the time, all these seemingly little things that add up to making others—and yourself—feel good.

In the last week, two major things have made us all feel horrible. You know it’s a special kind of awful when the news anchors and the President are choking back tears. You know it’s heinous when you sit there watching news you don’t want to see yet can’t turn away from, with your hands held tightly over your mouth in utter disbelief. You know it’s a collective agony when you find yourself mourning people you never had a personal connection to, crying for someone else’s children, battling the thoughts of how horrible it all is.

The shoes by the door that will never again be worn. Underwear wadded up in that little-kid way in dresser drawers that might stay there untouched for a decade. Toys left scattered in back yards that will never again be played with. Christmas presents under the tree that will be put away, never unwrapped. Laughter that will never again tease a parent’s ear.

It hurts so much because we can all connect ourselves to the idea of loss, the deep terror of losing a child, the depth of the something we never want to experience. The depth of what no parent should ever experience.

We can’t take the pain away from the parents, families, friends, spouses, and significant others of those ripped away in the last two weeks.

But we can do something.

Even little things.

Make this the week you do random acts of kindness. From tomorrow, December 17th until December 23rd, deliberately do things, large or small, for someone else.

Tip your waiters and waitresses a little bit heavy.

Make a grocery run just for your local food bank.

Wave your skepticism aside and hand over $5 to the guy on the corner with the cardboard sign.

Buy a few extra toys for Toys for Tots.

Pay for a stranger’s coffee.

Buy dinner for that young couple three tables over.

Rake the leaves in your elderly neighbor’s yard.

Visit random acts of pizza, feed someone.

Shove a couple of quarters into a vending machine for someone you don’t know, and walk away quietly.

Just for a week, make the effort to see what small things you can do for someone else.

I promise, you’ll feel good.

And if the world really does end on the 21st, well, at least you’ll go out knowing your last days were spent trying to make this a better place, even for just a few random people.

Share the idea with your friends. Let's really do this.

Kindness needs to win.

Not being paid for this, nope

Seriously, I'm not. I'm not getting money, not getting free samples, not anything. But I had to share this, because it's making a huge difference in my life.

Back when the Woman and DKM were driving a van for the boobie walk in San Francisco, the Man got a tiny box of Purina Healthy Weight cat food, and gave some to Buddah and me like he would crunchy treats. You know, just a few at a time. He wanted to see if we liked it, and dang did we ever.

That little box was gone pretty fast, so when the Woman came home he told her about it and she said we should get a bag to see if we still liked it. We've done that before, liked something when it was a treat and then stopped eating it when it was real food.

So they bought a bag.

And we kept liking it.

Then about six weeks later, when we still really liked it and had gotten another bag, the Woman picked me up and said I felt lighter, so she weighed me.

And then she freaked out because I was a pound lighter than I had been. She started sniffing my breath and watching how much water I was drinking, thinking that I'd been struck with Teh Diabeetees, because as far as she could tell, I was still eating what I ate before. Stinky Goodness twice a day, and dry food when the whim struck me.

But my breath smelled normal. I wasn't peeing a lot.

The Man noted that I was quite a bit more active. He noted that as I was chasing Buddah across the room, into the other room, over the coffee table, and into the library. Astute observation.

So the Woman kept an eye on me, just in case.

I was definitely more active. And the dry food was lasting longer because I really wasn't eating as much as I used to. And doods, she realized my furs were super soft. Every time she pets me now it's like, "Wow, you are so soft."

My furs are shiny, too.

Doods, I'm 11 years old, but I feel a lot like I did when I was maybe 4 or 5. I'm awake more than I was just a few months ago, which means more hours to sit on the Woman's lap, or to sit there and tell her all the things I need her to do. I talk to her...a lot.

She talks back, so it's not weird or anything.

Since I freaked her out with losing a pound, I think I've lost about half a pound more, but that's it. It was enough, I suppose. This food makes me feel fuller than all the other dry foods I've ever tried. And it's been good for my energy and skin and stuff. And my poops?

MY POOPS HAVE BEEN GLORIOUS!

Yeah, I know raw meats would probably be the better diet, but that's not gonna happen. We have a good compromise going here, between the morning Purina Pro Plan wet food (and Purina One sometimes) and the night time Fancy Feast and dry food. It's really the only way the people can keep their sanity, they think.

Anyways, I wanted to share that with you. This food is super tasty, and I feel like a much younger cat now.

And really, who doesn't like a really good, glorious poop?

Feeling a bit blog-blocked...

...so here's a picture of me.

This is what happens when a person traps you in the bathroom with them. Unflattering pictures. And they keep taking pictures until they realize that they're in the bathroom, and anyone on the other side of the door would be able to hear the clicky clicky clicky of the shutter, and that's just not something they want to have to explain...

I Writed A Book...

...and not to brag or anything, but it would be a terrific Christmas present for people who are owned by cats. And, you know, of you ordered one NOW, it would get here in plenty of time for the holidays. Amazon lists it as 1-3 weeks, but doods, they order it right from the distributor and the distributor drop ships, so it would probably get there sooner.

Amazon  |  Barnes & Noble  |  Books-A-Million

I have a couple of other books, too.

 This is the book that started me off on my literary stardom trajectory. 

You want to give this to people, too.

It's on Amazon, B&N, and other places. Usually on sale.

My second book is only available on Cafepress. Something hiccuped in distribution years ago and while the Woman was sorting it out, she "misplaced" the print file. Someday she'll re-do it, but you can still get it.

The first one is funny.

The second might be even funnier.

All of them, you can also get for your e-reader if you have a Kindle app. They're all listed on the Woman's Amazon Author Page. Yeah, they gave her a page. As if she does all her own work...

Thus concludes my annual self pimping. I don't like to do it very often, but once in a while a guy has to remind everyone that he has swag for sale. And mine is BRILLIANT, dangit!

Plus... a lot of what I make goes to kitties in need. So, you're getting awesome books AND giving to others. It's a win-win!

Save me some, dangit!

I was in the back of the house, snoozing on the big bed, and I thought I was dreaming about the Woman letting me lick her little container of caramel that she dips her apple pieces into, but after a minute or so I realized I was almost awake, and I was smelling the caramel.

So yeah, I got up and hauled my asterisk down the hallway, because, CARAMEL.

But doods. Doods. You know what she did?

She had already licked that sucker clean! She didn't save me a single lick! And to make it worse, when she saw me she said, "You snooze, you lose, Big Guy."

WELL YEAH I WAS SNOOZING! WAKE ME THE HECK UP!

That was just so rude.

And now I really want some warm, gooey caramel...

Happy Thanksgiving!

Doods. There was no turkey here for Thanksgiving. Well, no people-made turkey. When I heard there was not going to be a single turkey making in the oven, I was a wee bit upset.

But then, the Woman said she was making Chicken Kiev instead, and I felt a little bit better because, hey, chicken!

But then she said Chicken Kiev is not for kitties because it's loaded with butter and garlic, and garlic is not a good thing to give a kitty.

So I was really miffed, because dangit, I already wasn't getting turkey, and then I wasn't getting chicken?

WHAT KIND OF THANKSGIVING IS THAT?

So I sat back wand watched as the people ate their wonderful-smelling dinner of chicken-Max-can't-have, roasted potatoes and sauteed green beans and buttery biscuits, and I was trying to figure out ways to get even.

BUT THEN

Yep, when they were done eating the Woman pulled a piece of chicken out of the microwave. She made an entire piece for me and Buddah, and she cut half of it off and into tiny chunks because apparently we don't chew well enough for big chunks.

"You didn't think I forgot you did I?"

Well, no, I was sure we weren't forgotten. I just thought she was being a royal witch-widda-b about the whole thing and that we were going to get shafted.

Then a little bit later they all had pie, which I was interested in but decided I didn't want after all...and she went to the cupboard where the stinky godness lives, and doods, she got out a can of turkey gooshy food and let us have it TWO HOURS EARLY.

ANNNNND...we get to have some more later!

So this is me, after al the foods tonight:

Just waiting for everything to digest, so I can have my real dinner in a little while.

I hope you guys had a great day, too!

Oh Noes...

Doods.

Doods?
DOODS!

This was probably the last Twinkie I will ever have tasted, and I didn't even know it at the time, and it was over a YEAR ago, and I didn't get enough of it to make the taste last forever! How can they go out of business? I NEED MY TWINKIES! This bites the great big hairy one...

Sheesh

Great, the people are back, but dangit, the Woman brought home cooties, and all she's doing is sitting here coughing and sneezing, which means sitting on her lap is not comfortable at all. As soon as I start to snooze? COUGH SNEEZE SNEEZE SNEEZE COUGH.

I Googled "sneeze" and this came up. Go figure.

Oh yeah. Her sneezes come in threes. Almost always.

On the plus side, she sleeps a lot when she doesn't feel good, so at least there had been some warms during my mid-day nap. She's quite the heater sometimes.

I think she needs to stop going places, though, because every damned time, she gets a cold.

The People Hath Returned

So. The People went to Vegas for some fun and to see things that made them laugh, and I'm pretty sure they spent a lot of money on things but they did NOT bring me home a present. But I'm not too upset, because we got the Grandma while they were gone, and the Grandma is very nice.

They took a lot of pictures, but the Woman is in recovery mode (going places takes a lot out of her, just the suckitude of being her) but when she isn't so tired, she'll let me pick a few to show you.

Last year he was C3PO

In the meantime... The Younger Human (they took him along) is gearing up to do his Polar Plunge to raise money for the Special Olympics. He does this every year; he puts on a funny costume and he and his friend raise a lot of money, and then they jump into the cold, cold water. This year, they're dressing up as characters from Super Mario Brothers, and he's going to be Luigi.

UNLESS

If he hits his fundraising goal, he's going as Princess Peach, and there will be pictures to share. Doods, he's like 6'2" and all hairy, so being a princess HAS TO HAPPEN.

Srsly.

He's also offering prizes, like the Woman does for the boobie walks. In a couple of weeks, one of his donors is gonna win a Kindle Fire HD...all it takes is $5, and for every $5 you donate, you get a chance. So, like, $10 = 2 chances. $20 = 4. And so on.

Just think...a really spiffy tablet computer, just in time for Christmas! You can give it to yourself, or give it to someone else as a present!

Clicky Here To Donate

I really really really really really really want one of my friends to win this instead of one of the Woman's friends. I mean, hers are nice and all, but mine are WAY COOLER.

But mostly...I want to see him all dressed up like a princess.

Please help me make that happen...

Dona Nobis Pachem

Hollow Weenies

Okay, so last night the people left the front door open (there’s a screen so no kitty can escape) and then turned the fireplace thingy on because they got cold. Now, I’m not complaining about the fire because there’s not much better than baking on one’s left side, then flipping over to bake on the right side. For me, that was a total score.

But then the Woman put a bowl of candy by the door, and I knew I wasn’t going to like what came next, because when that happens what comes next are a bunch of sticky little people ringing the doorbell and begging for handouts.

Little doods out there, just get a freaking job already. Buy your own candy.

I was torn; stay and bake by the fire or go hide in a bedroom. I decided to stay, at least until the second batch of little beggars showed up.

Man, guys, I was by that fire so long that I actually wanted to get away from it for a little while. It took for-freaking-ever for any kids to show up, and when they did they didn’t even ring the doorbell. They just stood there looking like pint sized stoners, hoping someone would notice they were there. Lucky for them, Buddah got about 3 kinds of excited and that made the Woman notice, so she got up and gave them each a couple pieces of candy.

Oddly—I thought it was odd since they didn’t say anything when they got there—they all said Thank You quite nicely.

It was almost a whole other hour before another kid came, and that kid was the last kid. I think the Woman was a little bit disappointed; she only got to give candy to 5 kids, and if a person is going to sit there with cold air coming in the door, they kind of want it to be worth the effort.

Me, I was just happy for mostly quiet, and a nice fire.

Now we just have to wait for Thanksgiving so we can have turkey, and after that… SANTA!

Oh yeah, doods, TIME TO BE GOOD!!!

Don't Believe Her!

Oh, the Woman is telling everyone this is dye, but doods, I'm gonna tell you what it really is.

This is what happens when you tell Max No one time too many.

This is what happens when the Mighty Paw and Teeth of Doom are deployed.

Oh yeah, your head will be bloodified!

Swearises.

I mean it.

HOLY MOLY!

Today, this blog turns 9 years old.

NINE YEARS.

I wasn't even three years old when it began.

Heck, I was barely over two.

We were living in Evil, Ohio when it began.

My entertainment was the sticky people outside.

Now those sticky people are like real people.

Like 5th graders all the way to high school.

Nine years and it's gone by too fast.

Still, I've gotten to know a lot of REALLY cool cats!

And the Woman made some REAL friends from it.

So that's totally worth it going by too fast.

Doods...Happy Blogoversary to me!

And

THANK YOU! 'Cause you guys are the real reason it's still going.

You're awesome.

Srsly.

Doods, check it out, I got a new bed to lounge on in front of the fireplace thingy. Which is not on but should be.

The guy in the blue shorts brought it today; it's a gift from an admirer! And the timing is really good, because I was a bit under the weather this morning (horked a couple of times, but I'm fine now) and nothing makes a guy feel better than presents. Especially awesome presents!

I hope Buddah doesn't get any ideas, 'cause this is MINE and he got some toys instead, because he's a crackhead and loves the little felt nip toys.

The talking head on TV says it's gonna get cooler this week and rain, so I'll probably get fire in a couple of days. IT'S ABOUT TIME!

Ha! I *KNEW* IT!

SOME kitties are allowed on the table!

At least, I don't think any person is gonna make him get down...

Chey? Is that you?

    So now we know who REALLY made the jump today...

Um...Ooops?

This is my Ooops face...

Okay.

There are rules; I know that. I am fully aware of them and make an effort to follow the ones that result in me getting crunchy treats and bites of people food.

One of the major dinner time rules is that the kitty does not get on the table while the people are eating dinner.

If the kitty breaks this rule, all usual tiny tastes of whatever they are having will not be forthcoming.

And you know, I have never broken this rule. Not even when I was a kitten. They ate, I did not get on the table. I understood that rule, and obeyed it.

Until tonight.

Doods, I have no idea what I was thinking, but I sat in a chair at the table while they had their soup, and the next thing I know I'm on the table and the Man is shoving his hand toward me to make me get back onto the chair. He didn't have to actually push, because as soon as I was up there I had an Oh Frak moment and immediately turned around.

Really. Royal brain fart.

So I jumped down to the floor and went over to the Woman, stood on my back paws and patted her leg to say I was sorry, and she looked down, puzzled looking, and asked,  "Do you have a headache or something, Max?" She looked at the Man and said, "He really looks like he's got a headache."

Hm.

Well, I was really good for the rest of dinner, and when she was washing out bowls--I was not allowed a taste of the soup because it wasn't kitty-friendly--she got a couple of crunchy treats out for me and Buddah.

"You were a butthead, but only for a moment," she said. "You can have a couple of crunchies."

Whew.

Really, no idea why I did what I did, but at least I still got the treat.

On a scale of 1 to 10...15

Why is Buddah on the counter?

He's watching me work the Grandma, who had cans of Stinky Goodness out, even though it was like 5 hours early for dinner.

Now see, I like her, because she delivers. No teasing, no "Oh is Max hungry? Well, you can eat tonight." She took those cans from the Man, and opened them up.

And then she gave use each a plate with AN ENTIRE CAN.

Really, the People need to take lessons from her. She also gave us crunchy treats. CRUNCHY TREATS.

And doods, when the people go to Vegas in a month, she's gonna come stay with us!

My goal is to gain 5 pounds while they're gone.

All muscle, of course.

I've been cheated...maybe for YEARS!

He thinks he's cute

Ok, so I got suspicious about something, because every night Buddah walked past me, smelling of crunchies.

Every night, after I smelled it on him, I went into the room where the Woman was, usually the living room where she was planted in her comfy chair with her computer on her lap. She would look at me coming in and say either "Hey there, Big Guy" or "Mister Max, where ya been hiding?" but she never got up to get ME anything.

So the last few nights I've made sure I was in the living room at the time just before Buddah comes sauntering past me with betrayal on his breath.

Doods...at 10:15, almost on the dot, Buddah stands on top of his tree near the kitchen and lets out this pathetic meow; the Woman looks at the clock, then looks at him, and says, "Okay, you can have something."

I don't know how long this has been going on--Buddah's not talking--but no one EVER came to give me crunchies or to let me know this was evening a possibility.

So tonight at 10:14, before he could let out that wail of pathos, I jumped up on the arm of the sofa nearest to her comfy chair, and asked NICELY, and doods, she looked at the clock, asked, "You want a snack?" and then got up and got us treats!

I'm not sure whether to be glad that Buddah trained her so well, or to be really, really ticked off that I've been missing treat time for maybe years and years.

You can bet I won't miss it again.

THIS IS NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE!

If you saw this on the Woman's Facebook tonight, you have to know it is NOT what it looks like!

Really, I was just trying to sniff her breath and see what she had for dinner, because she didn't have dinner at home. Oh no, she went to see Denny and she didn't bring anything home for me.

NOTHING.

So I needed to check to make sure she didn't have any of Denny's grilled chicken, because he always sends me some grilled chicken and she might have eaten it on the way home.

But I did NOT kiss her.

Really.

I mean it.

Not even a little bit...

Livestrong Day 2012

Red.

Green.

Blue.

Brown.

Black.

White.

Pink.

Purple & Pink.

Yellow.

Every one of those colors has a ribbon that represents an insidiousness we’d all like to see wiped off the face of this planet. What bites even more is that list is such a tiny one; there are so many forms of this scourge and not enough colors to cover them all.

Leukemia.

Kidney.

Prostate.

Colon.

Melanoma.

Lung.

Breast.

Thyroid.

Sarcoma.

Cancer is a bitch.

I doubt any of us has escaped the touch of cancer; we all know someone who has battled it, some who won and some who did not; we’ve all loved and cared about someone who has faced the fight. Some of us—not me, and I’m grateful for that—have been the ones in the thick of the fight, reaching down deep for that one thing that will tip the scales to victory.

It’s never a fair fight. I think that’s why, when someone wins, it’s a special kind of wonderful and deserves over-the-top celebrations. And it’s also why, when someone loses, it’s an especially heinous thing worthy of deep, boiling anger and snot-running-down-your-face tears. Because it’s never fair, it’s never remotely fair.

Cancer is an enemy you can’t see; it invades and destroys, and does it so quietly that it can be months before anyone realizes it’s there. It’s hard to fight something you can’t see, something that steals an advantage without letting you know the invasion is coming.

Yeah, that’s not fair.

People do what they can; some go to school for years and years to learn about how to fight cancer, and how to sneak up on it. Some put their shoes on and walk against it, raising money so that the people who went to school can fund their research. Some write papers to teach others, some write blogs to support their friends. Cancer is one thing everyone is on the same side about: everyone is against it.

It doesn’t really matter how you go about taking your stand against cancer, whether you’re on the front line, finding new drugs to battle it, or if you’re in support services, making sandwiches for the people who are walking and raising money, or even if you’re the one sitting at a computer, trying to form a coherent thought about it. It only matters that you want the fight to end forever, and you and it to end in our favor.

People, cats, dogs, whomever. You’re in it to win it, to quote the slogan of one of the big breast cancer organizations. Do what you can, when you can.

Between last years’ Livestrong Day, and this one, we’ve lost far too many to cancer. Some are our cat friends, some are their people.

It doesn’t matter if they were a cat or a human, a dog or a bird or a rabbit or a hamster.

They were loved.

They are loved.

We need this to end.

Hmmm...

Ok, apparently Blogger, now that they've forced the switch to their new platform, seems to want titles for posts. Oh, you can write one without it, but then later when you get a notification that someone has left a comment on an old post and it needs approval, you can't figure out which freaking post it is if it doesn't have a title. So...titles.

Meh. If I have to...

But! Today, I realized the Woman might finally be learning to understand me a little. I followed her into the giant litter box room, and she sighed heavy and said, "This is gross," and well, she's kinda right so I said, "Yep."

Doods, she turned around and said, " Ya know, I don't need commentary from the peanut gallery. I'll clean it when I clean it."

Ha. I'm pretty sure she didn't hear "Meow" but heard me agree with her.

That didn't spur her into cleaning, though. The stuff growing on the floor between the toilet and tub hasn't started moving on its own yet. Won't be long now, though...

Hey! A Title Field!

It's really hard to watch this and not want to beat the bejeebers out of the computer screen, trying to catch that jumping thingy.



And ya know, if you try to catch it on a person's giant 27" work computer, they get really, really upset...

Oh yeah, she's been sitting at the work computer. Real work is being done on my book! A lot of the time, though, we work and work and work and work, and then she goes back over the hours of writing and says, "That's just not quite IT, Mister Max."

Doods. She totally calls me Mister Max. I think it's because she finally understands that I am the boss.

Anyway, we write and then rewrite, and sometimes she grabs the little computer and goes off on her rumbly bike to sit in McDonald's so she can think and take some notes.

Today was kind of fun, because today? WE WROTE ABOUT FOOD.

I kinda forgot about when I first got to try Stinky Goodness, but man, when she reminded me, it made me want some, so I asked her every 5 minutes of it was dinner time yet. She got pretty annoyed, but I won when she caved in about 4 hours later.

I'd like some crunchy treats now...I wonder how long THAT will take...?

BEHOLD

I was starting to get worried. I mean, we were down to like only 6 or 7 cans, and that's just not enough to have in reserve, ya know?

But today the people went out, and when they came back they had a bunch of canned food for us, and a couple bags if chicken wings for them, which I am assuming they will share with me. As long as I don't beg while they eat, I should get a tiny bite. That's the rule, and if they break the rule, then I get to toothy death something.

I might do that anyway.

Just...because.

How come they never show this on HGTV?


That's, like, Devine Feline Design right there. I'd watch that.

OK, so yesterday the Woman spent her day drinking like a fish, and she didn’t enjoy it one bit. She made faces I’ve never seen before (but wish I had taken pictures of) and even though what she was drinking obviously sucked toad stools, she kept drinking it. She even got the Man to stick the jug of the stuff into a cooler, and she took it into the giant litter box room so that she could cut down on the number of steps she needed to get to it.

The view she had most of yesterday

Doods, let me tell you…it was not pleasant. She was drinking and drinking, and then some really nasty things began to happen in the giant litter box room, an unpleasantness that reminded me a lot of when she was super-sick this summer. She seemed all right, but she would drink, lay down in bed, get up and run for the litter box room, then drink some more…so I thought she might not feel terrific, so I was duty bound to crawl on top of her every time she got back into bed to purr on her.

Oh, she said she was fine and was just watching TV while she “went through the prep” but I wasn’t taking any chances. Because if she gets sick again, my breakfast and dinner times get all screwed up, and we can’t have that. So I kept doing it, even though a couple of times she sat up and bolted so fast that I kind learned what it feels like to fly.

Then today she slept in and I was thinking oh no, she really is sick, but after she got up she washed her hair and actually put deodorant on, and the Man took her out of the house. And it clicked.

Today she was letting the stabby guy shove a hose up her asterisk.

Doods? Worse yet, she didn’t seem to mind the idea. It was like, “Ok, cool, some guy I’ve never met before is gonna look at my butt, and then jam that sucker up there, and we’ll all have a good time.”

Seriously. I should worry about my people, I think.

Now, I expected her to be leaking today, but she got home a few hours later and didn’t seem fazed by the whole thing at all, but she did want to take a nap. I thought about going in there and purring on her again, but hell, she really wasn’t sick, and letting someone shove a hose up your asterisk ON PURPOSE doesn’t warrant my purring efforts.

Apparently the Man is going to get the same thing done sometime soonish. I don’t know why he didn’t do it today, too, but I guess that’s not something people want to bond over.

Go figure.

Surprise, dood...

Doods... Squashie from TK and Squashie needs a blood transfusion and needs to pretty quick. Please pop on over there for the details. There might be something you can do.

The Woman--having some sense of taste--likes to watch Jackson Galaxy on My Cat From Hell. Now, I really like him because he gets us, and he's making it his mission to beat into other people the things they need to know and do in order to be better cat people.

Okay, so he doesn't actually beat anyone. But I'm betting there have been a few he'd like to drop kick right in the feels.

But. The Woman likes him and watches him, but she records the show and sometimes waits until she has two or three episodes on the DVR. And doods, as much as she takes in from the show, I really hate it when she sits and watches. Because afterwards? It's like this:

I swear to Bast, she watches it and then she chases us around the house, all Let me  love you, kitty cat! Let me love you!

=sigh=

Mr. Galaxy, dood, it's time to flip the show and start My People From Hell, because I need this chit to stop.

Or at least get her to chse me with treats. I'd stop and turn around for that.