Tag Archives: pets

To snow, or not to snow?

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We finally got a few inches of white stuff on the ground and I figured it was time to make Lord Dudley Mountcatten walk the proverbial plank.

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He was a bit hesitant…

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But made a mad dash to the shallow patches beside the house.

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When he hit the slightly deeper parts he looked back as if to say… wtf?

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After which he plonked the Royal butt down and refused to move. A few minutes of chilly bird watching later, he called it quits and ran for the house.

I’m calling this progress.

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Just the everyday cat craziness..

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Lord Dudley Mountcatten is a very odd bird. His latest quirk?

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Purposely taking a mouthful of dry food out of his bowl and dropping it on the floor.

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And then eating it.

Apparently this is a protest against the food delivery system.. though why it’s begun after nearly a year I haven’t a clue.

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What is he doing in this photo? Staring up at the china hutch. For a solid 15 minutes.

Why? Your guess is as good as mine.

And while he’s definitely a weirdo, he’s also a very good cat. He doesn’t scratch the furniture, howl at odd hours, jump on the kitchen counters or push you off the pillow at night.

And while he’s allowed on the couches, chairs and beds … he’s not allowed on the tables, bureaus and desks. This ban also goes for the husband’s antique radio…

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Though now that’s it’s too cold to open his favorite bird watching window, this rule has been a challenge to enforce.

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Especially when he gives you that, ‘yeah I’m up here. What are you going to do about it?’ look.

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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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