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...