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We all have those days.
The ones where we want to stay in our pajamas, crawl back into bed and turn off the world.
Apparently Lord Dudley Mountcatten has them as well.
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It’s not as if this feline has a rough life.
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Did the level on his kibble bowl run low?
Were his treats not dispensed at the proper time?
Perhaps his pillow was not properly fluffed.
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Whatever the reason, he’s clearly reached his limit.
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Let’s start with the required weekly photo of Lord Dudley Mountcatten.
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Say what you will about cats, the creatures know how to relax.
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This marketing strategy seemed a bit extreme for fresh water from the Alps. Death isn’t normally what I look for when buying natural spring water… but to each their own.
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The husband had been sputtering about a hot air popper for a while now, so I broke down and bought him one. Aside from breaking the top cover on the second go around, it looks like he hasn’t quite mastered the proper kernel to bowl ratio yet either….
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A tent for office naps? I fail to see how this won’t be noticed by management.
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As we began, so shall we end.
Lord Dudley Mountcatten, looking less than pleased with the photographer.
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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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More relatable Mary Roach humor.
While I can’t get on board with the jewelry part, I’ve had more than a few cocker spaniel days.
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Oh, who are we kidding? I’ve had cocker spaniel months.
This next page deals with searching for a new home and open houses.
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I used to love to tour open houses, just because. Not that I ever bought any, it’s just a fun way to spend the day.
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So you know I had to…
Some dogs looked happy.
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Some dogs did not.
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Cats? Apparent they rate toast collars.
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But hands down? The winner goes to three olive martini beagle.
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It will serve his owner right to get poked in the eye with that toothpick.
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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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Lord Dudley Mountcatten is not allowed on the dining room chairs.
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So naturally that’s just where he wants to be.
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And while I know I should be a strict cat parent and refuse to let him play with his feather ball there…
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He’s just too damned cute to chastise.
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The problem is…
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He knows it.
😉
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I saw this on Facebook over the holidays and thought… how weird.
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What a silly cat, afraid of tangerines.
And then I put down a bowl of leftover milk with a few soggy Rice Krispies in front of His Lordship and watched him freeze in fear.
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He was having no part of it and ran under the bed shortly after I snapped the picture.
Cats are weird.
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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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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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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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River's world..... 