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Category: cats

Is cat vomit on the granite kitchen countertop! Catchy jingle, no? Hmm, well one of the holy terrors sure thought so.

There are not enough clorox wipes in the world. Also, I think my pancake batter station will be on the other side of the stove now.

The other night while I was watching politically minded tv, Forge slept soundly through Obama’s half-hour love fest.  When it was Mccain’s turn on Larry King, however, Forge jumped right up on the edge of the coffee table to get a better look.  He watched intently, and even stuck around for a minute or two after Mccain left in the hopes that he’d come back.

(I’m serious about that – Forge watches Meerkat Manor and the Dog Whisperer, and is somewhat aware of commercial breaks and that if he just waits it out, the show comes back.)

So, there you have it.  Forge 4 Mccain.  Of course, Forge also poops in sinks and eats bits of not-food off the floor – so I suppose it’s a good thing his vote doesn’t count.

And no, it’s not because he can sense my misery.  It’s not because he wants to comfort me.

It is because I am warm and stationary.

I normally suffer from the compulsion to keep moving – there’s always dishes and laundry to be done, dinner to be made, blogs to write, wow to play, animals to knit, vacations to plan, papers to file.  While I may spend several hours every evening sitting, I don’t do it all in one block of time.  The cats know this, so they don’t usually try to sit in my lap.

But tonight, I have been parked on the couch all evening.  I enjoyed a nice nap.  I balanced the checkbook.  The husband made dinner (frozen pizza!  someday I will teach him the pesky vegetable-dinner rule) and brought it to me.  I watched the last half of O Brother, Where Art Thou.  I played solitaire.  I watched House.  I surfed the internet.

All without leaving my couch!  And so now forge is curled up next to me, purring.  Hmm, I get the feeling he’d like me to be sick more often …

muffin licker

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Forge has found himself a new title. Because, well, it seems he likes to lick blueberry muffins. He did manage to carry one off (they were just mini muffins, so it wasn’t quite the miraculous feat you may have imagined), but he couldn’t figure out how to eat it, as his teeth aren’t really designed for blueberry muffin eating.

So I’ve learned my lesson: I will throw out any muffins I have left unattended. There’s no telling what Forge has done to them.

I keep a camera in my bathroom, so I can be sure to capture a picture of my cat drinking out of the toilet. And why is this so nerdly, you might ask? Because once I capture that perfect picture of my cat, standing on his tippy toes of his back legs, with one paw wrapped around the porcelain bowl, and with his head sunk deep in the basin, I will have a most perfect lolcat.

(If you don’t know what an lolcat is, you really need to check out the link, or google lolcats. Otherwise, you might as well stop reading.)

With a picture of my cat with his head in the toilet, the possibilities are endless! From hangover-kitty, to reconsidering-that-mexican-place cat, to plumber-kitty, to oh-what-tastiness cat – I could go on and on. And with the help of my husband – and my loyal readers – I’m sure I could come up with a myriad of hilarious captions.

So – what have you? I’ll keep working on the picture – give me some captions!

A few months ago, we redid our kitchen. As part of this remodel, we purchased new appliances – including a new refrigerator. And ever since then, sometimes when I go into the kitchen, I find my neurotic cat sitting in front of the refrigerator, at attention, staring intently at the ice and water dispenser. As soon as he hears me come in though, I have interrupted his moment of worship, and he wanders off.

I have often wondered what, exactly, he thinks is going to happen. If there are no people in the kitchen to operate the dispenser, it doesn’t do anything. At all. Ever. Or so I thought.

It turns out, when the planets are aligned just right, something does happen. If, after getting a glass of ice water, a piece of ice falls into the tray at the bottom of the dispenser, right on the edge, and if, after some time, it melts just right, that piece of ice will fall on the floor. And then my neurotic cat gets a tasty treat, or a splendid toy, depending on his mood at that moment. And that is what he waits for, these moments of rare blessing, bestowed by that great deity, the refrigerator.

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