A Matter Of Timing

The cat and I can't seem to get on the same wave length. He is an inside only cat except when he likes to hang out on the porch or take me for a walk. Since the weather has turned cooler that doesn't happen very often. One of the joys that come with having an indoor cat is the litter box. Whether you use the clumping litter and then scoop it out each time he goes or you have one of those new-fangled machines that does it all for you it is never a fun chore. I'm not a big fan of changing the cat box; it kinda makes me gag. I think I may be allergic to the cat litter. Most cats will cover their business upon completion; not my baby. He leaves it out for the world to see and smell. His girlfriend who was a very fastidious little creature used to come running from wherever she was and cover it up for him. (Sounds like a man, doesn't it?) Unfortunately, she has been gone for a few years. Now, if I'm home, it's a matter of how fast I can get outta my recliner and into the bathroom to scoop it out into the commode. What mostly gags me is when I have been gone for several hours and then open the door and am met with a "YOWZA". You look for the guilty party and he's just sitting there purring, happy to see you. At my Pre-Thanksgiving party last weekend guests got to enjoy an additional smell or two to go along with the turkey. I suppose the situation that really causes me a little frustration is the clean litter box. Recently, I had cleaned, dusted, mopped, aersoled, touched up and basically had the place looking pretty good. His Majesty had done both of his jobs, he had a sparkling clean new box and had settled in for a nap. I had to go to town and when I got back and opened the door I almost passed out. Clean box. Clean house. And an odor that you can plausibly scrape off your teeth. I'm going back to town.

Pootability 101

I mentioned in the past about my cat that likes to join me out on the porch to view the different seens. He has a black and white coat and always looks like he’s wearing a tuxedo. All dressed up and nowhere to go. He showed up outside my house about fourteen years ago and was begging to come inside. I decided to take him in and for fourteen years he has wanted to go back out. We’ll sit a spell out on the porch and every once in a while we’ll take a walk down to the old chicken house to see what’s prowling around. He leads a very complicated life. He eats the same exact brand of cat food and has for the past fourteen years. He doesn’t like change but he does like to pee in the woods. I prefer cats over dogs, that’s just who I am. I had a dog that was an inside dog once; that dog could drop bombs or biscuits at the drop of a hat. Phewww!! That dog could clear a room with a simple poot. Luckily, I have never had that problem with my cat. When we’re not out on the porch I am kicked back in the recliner tapping away on the laptop which is on the left side of my lap and the cat is on the other side. I got a lapful. For the past few months I had been noticing that something just didn’t smell right. I thought I must have really bad breath. Mom was over visiting one evening and I breathed on her to see if it was me or not. It wasn’t. Every time I smelled that awful smell the cat was sitting on my lap. It had to be him because I wasn’t going to admit to anything. You know the sayings: Smellers-the fellers, whoever smelt it, dealt it. It took my cat fourteen years to discover his pootability. Maybe, I’ll let him back outside.

I'm Not Loving It

It was 98 degrees today. It was hot. I tried to stay indoors for most of the day, but the cat wanted to sit out on the porch. There is no sense arguing because the cat always wins. While we were sitting out on the porch the mail ran. There might be something important in the mailbox so I made the trip up the hill and back down again. Of course, there wasn't anything important, just two advertising fliers soliciting pre-paid funeral plots. As I flung myself into my plastic patio chair I hit the seat and slid right off catching myself before I hit the ground. It was so hot that I had become completely drenched in sweat from walking up the hill to get the mail. I had had enough; I grabbed the cat and went back inside the house. I stuck my head in the freezer to try and cool myself down. In case you're wondering, sticking my head in the freezer is a trick I learned growing up, we didn't have any air conditioning and it could get really hot during the summer. Sticking your head in the freezer cools you off quickly. While having my head in the freezer, I checked to see if I had any ice cream. (I didn't) After all, what's better on a hot day than a bowl of ice cream? My appearance wasn't at its best, so, I decided a trip to McDonald's to go through the drive thru would have to suffice. I love the ice cream cones at this fast food giant. The cone only has 150 calories (not that I am counting) and only costs about a buck, you can't beat that! I grabbed my keys and the cat and hopped in the car. It's about three miles into town, just enough time to blow out the hot air in the car and for the air conditioning to begin to cool things down. The anticipation was beginning to build, I looked over at my cat and he licked his lips. When he goes for a ride in the car he usually ends up with a treat of some kind, and doesn't seem to mind going. It was hot. I was hot. The car was hot. The steering wheel was almost too hot to touch. I got stopped at all of the stop lights going into to town. I had to pull over twice; once for a funeral and the second time for an ambulance. I finally pulled into McDonald's and the drive thru lane was backed up around the building. (I guess everyone thought ice cream was a good idea) Can you say I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream? It's finally my turn at the window, "Welcome to McDonald's, may I take your order?" "It sure is hot, ain't it? I'd like an ice cream cone please," I replied. "Yes ma'am, it is hot. I'm sorry, but our ice cream machine is broken. Would you like something else?" I screamed, the cat screamed, the whole drive thru line was screaming. No ice cream. Ba dup ba dup baaaa, I'm not loving it.

Letting The Worms Go

I just recently got back from vacation and am just now getting back into the swing of things. I opened the refrigerator door to check out what was needed from the grocery store(Groan)and was met with an unusual looking container. It was a small round blue plastic container with holes punched in the lid. (Hu oh!!) It was the worm container left over from my recent fishing trip with my niece. I had thought that I had taken care of that before I left. I guess in all of the excitement in planning for the trip to the OBX, something(Do I dare?) or someone got left out. I don't particularly have an affinity for worms. We're not on a first name basis. We don't go to the mall together. I've never been invited over for tea. We've never hidden from the paparazzi together. I didn't invite them to go see Sex and the City with me. I did take them fishing with me, but, I don't think that counts. I opened the lid on the blue container and gave it a little shake. Nothing. It didn't smell bad, no mold or other stuff growing. I shook it again, and things started to slither.(EEWWW) My arm jerked up, I jumped back, and black dirt, worm poo and worms that had been in cold storage for ten days went flying everywhere.(OMG)(OMG) I yelled hysterically, scared the cat and sent him sliding across the linoleum. My nervous tic began ticcing. My heart was beating a mile a minute. My nerves were a little shaky. What in the world had just happened? I gathered myself and stepped back to assess the damage. On the floor were approximately 6-7 worms in various forms of slither. Black dirt was scattered in a 5 ft radius. The blue container had rolled across the room and the lid was nowhere to be found. My cat poked his head around the corner and asked, "Uh, Whatcha gonna do now?"(What was I gonna do?) I sprung into action. I went to the pantry, got the broom and dust pan, and in the blink of an eye had swept everything back into its container.(Without touching anything)I opened the door, walked over to my garden area and dumped the worms. I let them go. Later that day, I walked over to check out the garden area where I had let them go and I couldn't find any remnants of the dirt or the worms.(HHMMMM) As I was walking away, I thought I heard someone whisper something. I looked closer and a worm was motioning towards me, I inched closer and the worm says, "Hey, middle-aged fat woman, wanna go fishing?"