Tag Archives: cats

We call it ripping.

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Or rippin’ for short.

I’ve heard people call it the zoomies, but I can’t quite wrap my tongue around that.

Whatever the nomenclature, it’s when your pet goes spastic and starts tearing around the house like a whirling dervish. For Lord Dudley Mountcatten it happens every evening around 7:00. He starts to twitch, gets a wild look in his eye and he’s off. Sprinting across the living room, down the hall, bouncing off a wall to the second hall, up and over the bed, across the top of a chair, back down the halls, through the kitchen, ending under the dining room table with a toy.

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Last night it was the blue feathered whale and as you can see, he was having a grand old time.

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Wish I was that limber.

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I’m not sure why he has a fascination with furniture legs…

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But when he’s in rippin’ mode he always wraps around them to play.

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Cats.

They be crazy.

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Snow much for that.

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Lord Dudley Mountcatten’s idea of playing in the snow usually looks like this:

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But after the first small dump of the season last week the husband took his highness out for a winter stroll.

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But as much as Dudley loves the fresh air and being outside, cold feet is not his thing.

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So he found the one bare patch of stone wall…

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Loved on his favorite rock….

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And carefully avoiding as much snow as he could, made his way back inside.

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Lord Mountcatten is a fair weather feline and was pleased when all the snow melted the next day.

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De-Christmasing.

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Since I hadn’t heavily decorated the inside of our house for the holidays in a few years… I’d forgotten what a time sucking nightmare it was to put everything away.

Three days after I started…

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With help from Lord Dudley Mountcatten…. I was done.

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And after buying a fresh cut ( I use that term loosely) tree from a roadside stand instead of cutting our own as we usually do, I’m seriously cursing needle drop again.

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While I do love a real Christmas tree…

( Note the lack of snow and abundance of green grass in our yard. In Maine. In January! 😠 )

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I do not love clogging up my vacuum with 20lbs of dry needle droppings. Though I have to admit, it does smell wonderful.

How about you?

Are you de-Christmased yet?

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Because His Lordship gets what His Lordship wants.

I often wonder how Lord Dudley Mountcatten manages to looks pudgy when the silly cat actually eats very little. Maybe half a Fancy Feast tin in the morning and another half at night… on a good day. Sometimes he just turns his nose up and walks away.

He won’t eat fish, or treats, or any human food. He won’t eat anything sliced, diced or shredded. The husband laughs at my attempts to stimulate his Royal highness’s appetite… and it’s not uncommon to see me following the little bugger around the house at mealtime with a bowl of food and a spoon. ( the cat, not the husband )

So when Lord Dudley recently expressed an interest in being fed on the laundry room windowsill?

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His loyal minion obeyed and fed him on the laundry room windowsill.

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Dinner with a view, you can’t blame him. And I’d already covered the dryer with a soft towel for his comfort… so why not?

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Well, that wasn’t necessary.

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No. Not spoiled at all…

😉

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Things I saw today.

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I woke up this morning to one very relaxed cat.

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Went to a craft show where I didn’t buy anything but did have a few laughs.

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Lunch?

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It came with a flight of margaritas. Blood orange cranberry, traditional and passion fruit.

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It’s $500 more for the W.

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I’m not sure how I rated $2,035 change from a twenty dollar bill,… must be that new math. Sadly I was unsuccessful in procuring the change, no matter how many times I argued computers are never wrong.

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Retirement boredom project update.

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The husband is still hard at work down in the basement.

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And has turned the proverbial as well as literal corner.

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Although safety is clearly not a high priority.

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Does our basement need a ceiling? No.

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But it’s certainly getting one.

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And a white one at that.

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Lord Dudley Mountcatten? He seems baffled by the strange noises rising up through the heating vents and is keeping a close eye (ear?) on the progress.

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Lord Dudley Mountcatten and princely sums for liquid holiday cheer.

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We will start and end this post with photos of His Lordship.

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Seen here giving me the evil eye for lowering the blinds and blocking his morning sun.

I had a birthday recently… yay me, another trip around the sun and straight down the road to decrepitude.

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The husband told me to pick a place for dinner but I’d skipped lunch and decided we should go cocktail hopping early.

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Enter Royal River Grille, one of my favorite spots.

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We settled happily at the bar… but were presented with brunch menus since it was a Sunday. I’m not a breakfast person so the thought of scrambled eggs with my Cosmo at 4:00pm did not please me, not one little bit. Brunch until 5:00pm? Come on.

We decided to move on and got the check.

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With tip, $30.92 for a drink and a beer. What’s the world coming to?

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Next stop was Goodfire Brewery, a new place I’d been wanting to try. On arrival we discovered they were almost out of beer and only had three left on tap. Thankfully one was a blackberry currant sour, but at $9.50 per for the small pour and a virtually non existent menu, we paid $24 for two beers and moved on again.

We ended at a nice seafood place we hadn’t visited in a while and I had a lovely crab, shrimp and scallop lasagna which I didn’t photograph.

So we end with me another year older and a very innocent Lord Dudley Mountcatten.

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Well, maybe not that innocent.

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