Tag Archives: cats

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NOW it looks like Christmas.

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I woke up to a winter wonderland this morning as our first real snow of the season fell overnight.

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It wasn’t the 6-8 inches they predicted for our area…

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But it coated everything in glorious white… so that’s alright with me.

What wasn’t a welcome sight?

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The creature highlighted here.

The tiny devil who wreaked havoc with us, our house and our barn last year. The little red bitch with sharp teeth. I thought we’d seen the last of her after numerous evictions and nest busting this fall. But no…

She’s baaaack!

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I know just how you feel Dudley.

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He was not impressed.

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We had our first light dusting of snow last week and the husband thought he’d let Lord Dudley Mountcatten experience it firsthand. (Or paw, as the case may be)

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A thorough sniff was taken from the doorway.

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And tentative steps were taken…

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Then he beat feet under the table where there was no snow.

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A few seconds were spent in internal debate before scuttling out the other end and trotting back to the warm house…

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Where a not so subtle request was made to ignite the heating pad.

Impressed by snow?

I think that’s a resounding no.

6-8 inches are forecast tonight. Can’t wait to plop him in the middle of that tomorrow.

😈

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No, he’s not spoiled.

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My acupuncturist recommended I use a heating pad on my knee to stimulate blood flow and aid in healing, so I keep one plugged in next to my reading chair in the living room. When not in use it’s tucked in the corner…

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Where Lord Dudley Mountcatten lets us know in no uncertain terms…

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This is not acceptable.

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It must then be moved to the ottoman, and turned on to warm his royal person.

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Spoiled? No…

What makes you say that?

🤣

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Cat nonsense.

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Lord Dudley Mountcatten is a constant source of amusement around here.

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Basically because he’s a big goober who, between epic bouts of sleeping, rips around the house like a lunatic.

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Can you find the cat?

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In the sun of course.

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Not turning on the heating pad will earn you a swat…

And neglecting to put it on the footstool altogether?

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A quick flash of his junk.

The cat has no shame.

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How bored do you have to be….

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I’m the first to admit Lord Dudley Mountcatten is a trifle odd. But the other day? He really made me wonder.

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Because this is what he did for a good 35-40 minutes.

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He sat… and stared at a corner of the kitchen.

There was nothing there. No spider, no fly, no mouse, no toy, no bag of catnip.

I hadn’t spilled tuna fish juice or dropped a crumb of bacon.

Nothing. Nada. Niente.

And yet, he stared.

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Then looked up at me as if to say, “ I don’t know what I’m doing either. But I can’t seem to stop.”

Cats.

They really should come with an instruction manual.

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Please don’t buy me this for Christmas.

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Admit it, over the years you’ve received some truly awful holiday gifts. No matter how well intended, that 1,001 Uses For Fruitcake recipe book sucked.

So this season instead of making a list of the things you want?

Make a list of the things you don’t.

I’ll start…

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I don’t want a set of cat butt coasters with strategically placed pink dots. Nope.

Not now, not ever.

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Santa’s Sweaty Sack?

Santa is everywhere this time of year, but perhaps we should try to reduce the trauma to our children and leave his odiferous sack out of the equation.

But topping the list of things I don’t want for Christmas?

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Urinal shot glasses.

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That gift is a sure way to get yourself barred from the man cave.

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Cocktail tweaking and a very spoiled cat.

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As you may know, I enjoy a cocktail now and then.

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So it should come as no surprise that I enjoy the occasional cocktail tweak as well

Here are two I’ve just discovered but have yet to try…

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Thyme and orange G&T’s sound fabulous.

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A drop of blackberry jam in my Cosmo?

Why not!

( Though I can guarantee you my quantity levels will be considerably higher. 0.75 Oz of Cointreau? Bitch, please! )

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Lord Dudley Mountcatten does not require cat food tweaking and is perfectly happy with his Fancy Feast. This does not mean he isn’t spoiled rotten in every other way…

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Yes, he’s commandeered my heating pad, and yes… if we don’t turn it on when he pounces on it we get the look.

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More random nonsense

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First I brought you wine for cats. Now?

There’s kitty ice cream.

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I’d ask if this is really necessary and why I couldn’t just let Dudley lick from my bowl…

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But I’m not apt to partake of a frozen dish of sugared mackerel anytime soon.

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Oh, if looks could kill.

Quick, get him some feline wine.

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Finally… a sensible use for the crock pot collecting dust in my closet.

👍

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Is that just me…?

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It could be worse.

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Naming a new pet isn’t a difficult process, at least for me.

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I’ve always been able to spend a little time with them and discover their rightful names. Like Lord Dudley Mountcatten.

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It just came to me, and to be honest, I think it suits him perfectly.

My husband disagrees. And of all the pets we’ve ever had, this is the one name he refuses to use.

Does the Royal title put him off? Perhaps.

Is it too much of a mouthful? Maybe.

But as I keep telling him, it could have been worse.

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