Karma Found Stitch

Today Karma made her way back and found Stitch. Let me explain…

A couple of years ago (in 2007) about a year after Stitch came to live with me I was curling my hair in the bathroom. My hair was still fairly long then so curling it took a good long while. Especially when I had to put hair gunk, and spray and other product prep on it before the actual curling began. Perhaps I brought it upon myself when I decided to put the litter box in the bathroom, but it was really the best place for it to go.

So there I was, curling my hair when Stitch decided that he had to go … and by “go” I mean take a big ole smelly poop. He hopped in his litter box, did his business, all the while watching me. When he was done he did a half-ass job at covering it, looked at me again and sat in the door way.

Oh, the smell, it was dreadful! And the problem was that I was mid-curl and held hostage by my vanity for perfect curls across the room just out of reach of the light switch that would turn on the fan. I shook my fist at him as I held in my breath. He turned his back on me with no regard to my suffering (a move he does very often). Luckily, my sister came to my rescue and turned on the fan and sprayed the room. If only Stitch’s thumbs worked like human thumbs. Maybe he could have at least lit a candle or something.

And today … today Karma came back and got Stitch.

Today Stitch was sitting on the couch. And Baby Jackelyn made her way over to him to pet him. Being a good cat Stitch just sat there and took the petting. But then Jackelyn squatted down as babies do, and started doing her business. Stitch looked at her when the fresh aroma of dirty diaper wafted up to him. Then he glared at me. You know, because I told her to do it near him.

“That’s Karma for you Stitch” I told him. And of course, he stood up, stretched, licked his fur back into place and jumped off the couch. I’m not sure but I think he might have been rolling his eyes at me and muttering “Whatever,” under his breath as he made his way over to the window perch.

I like Karma.

Gordita’s Baby Bouncer Experience

Between the two cats Gordita has been the one that has been the most curious about the baby’s big toys, while Stitch has learned he’s not allowed to sleep in the crib, the travel crib he often get’s some fun batting one of her baby sensory balls around. But Gordita, she thinks she’s a human thus she must give the human things a try.

You already know from the last entry that she’s jumped in the baby swing. She didn’t seem too fond of the swinging motion. Perhaps if it was more of a gentle glide than a fast swing she would enjoy it more. If she had asked I would have put it on setting one for her, but she is way beyond asking for things at her almost 12 years of age.

Today Gordita decided to take a nap in the baby bouncer. Baby Jackelyn (by the way I’m so tired of trying to remember what nicknames I’ve given the children and all their names are in my old blog anyway to might as well continue) discovered her first. I heard a baby squeal of delight and turned away from my computer to the sight of Baby Jackelyn squatting next to the bouncer and a no longer sleeping Gordita.

Baby Jackelyn stood up and started bouncing the seat for Gordita. She must remember how much fun she had bouncing and wanted to make sure that Gordita didn’t miss out on the fun. Gordita turned her neck to glare at me with a look of “Why?” in her eyes. Stitch sat on the window sill looking at the situation and I’m fairly certain he was laughing. He was sun bathing and he seemed to enjoy watching Gordita’s misery from his sunny perch.

Gordita, of course, is trying to redeem herself as a good cat (she had a scratching incident and scared the baby for a while afterward) so she politely accepted the bounce ride. Baby Jackelyn finally got distracted by some other thing (believe it or not some tissue paper on the ground) and left Gordita alone.

Amazingly, to me at least, Gordita decided to continue her nap in the bouncer. Will Gordita ever learn that the baby thinks she’s a cat and only wants her fellow felines to enjoy the things she finds enjoyable? Maybe … especially since I think Gordita is beyond learning the lesson that she’s actually a cat.

Here is a photo of Baby Jackelyn bouncing Gordita, and Gordita giving me the look. I think it’s precious. If you look in the top right corner you can see Stitch’s tail. I couldn’t capture his look of delight.

I Know Why My Cats Sleep All Day

At least I think I’ve stumbled upon why my cats sleep all day. The last couple of nights I’ve had some nasty bouts with insomnia. I’ve spent the last two nights reading in bed. The cats kept coming in to check on me. I’d feel a wet nose, a brush of whisker or would get startled from my reading by a “meow?” I think they kept tag teaming me too because both of them would come in at different times and then disappear again into the hallway.

Last night after reading for about an hour and a half I got really bored and really annoyed with the cat checkups. I figured maybe I ought to give them a midnight snack. I went downstairs and gave each of them a couple of treats. Then I sat down at my computer to peruse though my email and Facebook for a while. Around 1:22am I heard a thud and a squeak. I looked over my shoulder to see Gordita sitting on the baby swing. Her weight got the thing swinging and she sat there lounging in the swing for a couple of minutes. I heard another thud when she jumped out.

Then suddenly, with wild glassy eyes, both Gordita and Stitch bolted through the doorways of the downstairs. They ran through the kitchen, across the covered porch, through the bathroom, through the guest room and into the family room. Once there they would stop, look around and then bolt again. A couple of times they even flopped onto their backs and wriggled and then jumped up again in one smooth, fluid motion.

I wondered if they had a stash of catnip somewhere that I didn’t know about. Or perhaps there was a full moon or maybe the tide was high and I didn’t pay attention to the crazy energy going on. Maybe it’s the opposite for felines. Perhaps they go straight up crazy when the moon is a crescent. Regardless, they were having quite the cat party.

I’ve concluded that this is why they sleep all day. They have to rest up for all the crazy shenanigans they’ll be getting into at night. They also checked on me all night because just like a rebellious teen waiting for the parents to go to bed so he/she can sneak out … the cats wanted to have fun. I guess by night three though of me staying up late they figured that they would just party whether I was there or not.

Here they are ... resting up for tonight's cat party.

Jack the Cat is Lost!

I don’t know if any of you have heard about this CATastrophe but a cat named Jack is currently missing in the American Airlines inbound baggage claim at the John F. Kennedy International Airport. As the story goes, Jack’s owner Karen P. was flying her two cats Jack and Barry to California (her family is moving to Cali from NY for a new job). Karen bid her kitties a safe flight after clearing through security. She was later contacted and informed that Jack was missing! Long story short, she missed a flight trying to help find Jack. American Airlines had been giving her the cold shoulder until just recently (more specifically Monday, August 29, 2011 at 11:28am) when they put out a response to the situation. If I were them I wouldn’t want to mess with a bunch of angry, riled up cat owners either. You can get updates at the "Jack the Cat is Lost in AA Baggage at JFK" Facebook page here.

They’ve shared their efforts on their Facebook page about what they’re doing to help find Jack. You can view it, click here. Notice they’ve bolded the top two points. I assume this means they’re trying to sooth the angry cat lovin’ mob with these actions? I hope they realize that the cat lovers won’t really rest until Jack is home safe with Karen.

What I’d like to know is how did Jack get out of his kennel? Did someone try to console him because he was upset at being in a kennel away from his owners and he got out? Did he use the bathroom and a kind employee was trying to help clean it up so he didn’t have to travel in waste? Perhaps he grew opposable thumbs and let himself out of the kennel?

Should cat owners take note of this and maybe skip the flight offers from American Airlines? In the stories I’ve read this isn’t the first time a cat has been lost in the inbound baggage area.

I recently was on a flight through Southwest with Little J out to Michigan for a wedding. Little J is a cat lover. And luckily for me, because a teething 10 month old on a plane is not going to be a happy camper, there was a cat across the aisle from us. Now, the kitty was in his carrier, stowed away under the seat at his owner’s feet. But you could definitely see that there was a live cat in the carrier. Whenever Little J was totally over sitting in her car seat I made sure to point out “A cat!” to her which took her mind off the fact we were in the plane for at least 10 minutes.

My point – it was nice to see that Southwest allowed this guy to bring his cat with him. It assures me that if I ever needed to travel cross country with Stitch and/or Gordita we could have them with us on the flight if we flew Southwest. Along with their free bags deal I give them two paws up! If anyone knows of any other cat-friendly airlines please do recommend for reference.

In the meantime, I truly and sincerely hope that Jack comes home safe and sound. Shame on you American Airlines! I’m definitely not going to make a big effort to fly with you.

Stitch Has a New Fetish

Upon bringing him home from the cat rescue I quickly learned that not only did Stitch have a fancy for bags and purses, but he was also a paper addict. But every since Little J came home from the hospital I’ve discovered that Stitch has been developing a new fetish for shoes.

I’m not just talking about any old regular shoes either. He and Gordita both enjoy a good head rub on the inside of a shoe that has just been taken off of a foot (and the sweatier and smellier the better in their opinion I’ve noticed.) Oh no, I’ve noticed that he likes to carry Little J’s shoes around in his mouth. I’m not sure if he views them as fabulous accessories or not. Maybe he is jealous that he isn’t getting such stylish things. Either way, it’s kind of annoying when I go to put a booty or a shoe on Little J’s tiny feet and for the life of me cannot find the other one.

I first noticed it when one of her leopard booties went missing. I saw Stitch playing with it. I guess I can’t blame him. Who wouldn’t want to play with a small, fleece leopard print baby booty? It’s when it went missing for about 2 months that I really got irritated. One was just gone. And he kept trying to get the remaining one, but I kept a close eye on it. Little J had seen him carrying the other one around in his mouth so she started carrying the other one around in her mouth. It wasn’t until we moved last month that I found the missing one. Just in time for wedding season too.

The second occurrence was when I caught Stitch softly caressing a shiny, black baby mary jane. I’m not sure if it was a texture thing or what, but he sure seemed to enjoy the feel of the shiny, smooth surface on his paw pad.

My suspicions on his shoe fetish were confirmed this week. Little J received some cute hand-me-down shoes from her older cousin. I can’t really blame him on these either. I think if they made them in adult sizes I might just get a pair for myself. They’re pink and purple, rubber rain boots with cat faces on the front of them. I caught Stitch trying to mouth the handle yesterday. Unfortunately the boot was just a little too tall and a little too heavy for a quick getaway with it.

Memo to Stitch – the gig is up. You’ve been busted!!

For your eyes, here is a photo of the coveted boot that Stitch just had to have but couldn’t manage to borrow.

Tough Kitties

Either Gordita and Stitch are rough and tough kitties or they don’t care about the fact that Little J is pulling and kicking at them. I’ve yet to figure it out because they show such an indifference to it. For some reason when I’m cradling Little J on my lap both cats (not at the same time of course) like to jump up and squeeze themselves on the part of my lap that is not taken up by 10-month-old baby. Sometimes it’s a knee and sometimes it’s a whole knee and thigh.

Little J, who believes she is a baby cat, loves when they do this. However, she’s also in than sensory stage and loves to run her feet through their fur. And by “run her feet through their fur” I mean that she likes to kick her feet and heels against them to feel their fur on the bottom of her feet. They for some reason don’t mean to like it. They both give me an annoyed look when it happens though. It’s another one of those times I swear they’d roll their eyes at me if they could. But, they stay there and take it. I always try to tell Little J “We don’t kick the kitty.” She, of course, blatantly ignores me.

Little J also has yet to learn the finesse of how to give a good cat pat. She either roughly pats the cats. And by “roughly pats the cats” I mean she kind of smacks them in that gentle, firm and awkward baby movement. Lately though she has also started to pull at their fur. I’ve noticed that when I nurse her she pulls at her hair in the same manner so I don’t know if it’s another sensory thing or if it brings her comfort of some sort. Maybe she thinks she’s comforting the cats by pulling at their fur. I’m working on the “be gentle with the kitty” technique and showing her how to appropriately pet the cats. I figure she will get it eventually.

However, once again, the cats sit there and take it from her. Usually if I can’t get her to stop I’ll shoo them off my lap, which is pretty much every time they jump up to share my lap with her. I’d assume that if I were a cat I wouldn’t be sitting there taking this treatment from her. Then again that’s me assuming and we all know what happens when you assume. Maybe a part of them secretly likes the rough handling. I did already mention how I think Stitch is a masochist. Or maybe they’ll just do anything for a little affection and attention. Either way, they’re some tough kitties. I wouldn’t mess with them.

Here is an example: Little J is deciding whether to pet Stitch or whether to pull his tail that he keeps flipping in and out of reach of her grasp.

The Cat Puke Was Embarrassing

Let me tell you about Gordita. Note: if you’re eating or about to eat or just ate – come back later. She likes to binge on cat food, and then she throws it up. The majority of the time she’ll eat it again. Which as nasty as it is it saves me the trouble of cleaning it up so all the power to her.

The first time she lived with us we had to feed Stitch up on a table and monitor his bowl. Unlike Gordita, Stitch likes to graze at his food all day like a rabbit. For a while we couldn’t figure out why Stitch was getting so thin and Gordita was gaining weight. Then we figured out Stitch was on the Gordita diet where she would eat all the food and leave him the few bites he got. Thus, the reason we fed him in a place up high that Gordita couldn’t jump up to unnoticed.

Now that she’s back with us I’ve been feeding Stitch up on the washing machine until I can find a good permanent place to feed him. I figured that she might figure out that’s where the tasty food was instead of her diet food. However, the other day my land lord came over to look at the washing machine that wasn’t working too well.

I brought him out to the wash room and low and behold was undigested, cat puke all down the side of the washing machine and at the bottom in a pile. It was a little embarrassing needless to say. The baby in one hand I skillfully swiped up and scrubbed the washing machine clean with a Clorox cloth in the other…all the while explaining why there was cat puke on the washing machine.

Luckily my land lord is pretty laid back and laughed. I walked out into the living room where Gordita was perched on the back of the couch and gave her a dirty look. “You could have at least cleaned up after yourself you know,” I told her. I’m fairly certain if cats could roll their eyes the way teenagers do she would have done just that.

Gordita must be feeling at home though. She doesn’t puke until she does because she doesn’t gobble down food until she is feeling comfy. Welcome home Gordita.

An Exciting Day

We’ve had quite an exciting day here in our house. First off we have a new fuzzy. She’s actually not that new. Her name is Gordita and she is about 11 years old. My family has had her since she was a kitten. She’s lived with me and the family about 3 years ago for a while. Then after my parents found their new apartment she went back to live with them. However, now that we’re in a big, ole house she’s come back to live with us.

Gordita and Stitch aren’t strangers. They hiss at each other, and cuddle with each other when they think we’re not looking. Gordita is irritated by Stitch, and once in a while Stitch finds some huevos to stand up to Gordita. She’s currently still hiding, but knowing her she will come out in a couple of days, especially at night when everyone but me is asleep. Needless to say, she’s momentarily pissed off that she’s here.
I have a couple of entries about the two of them in my blog “Cats in the Family” on CatChannel.com (of which this blog is an extension and continuation from).

The other excitement was Stitch’s adventure outdoors. He’s mainly an indoor cat, but today he managed to run out the open front door. It probably would not have had me as worried if he had his collar on. But no, my cat has issues with collars and decided to take it off before hand. I’m not sure exactly how long he was gone but about 45 minutes after I realized he was definitely not in the house he came back to the front door and laid down in front of it until I realized he was there. Then he made this big deal of panting and stretching as if to say “It’s about time you realized I was here.”

I put fresh cool water in his bowl and told him I was not pleased with him, but was glad he was home. He gave me that indifferent look as if to say “Whatever. I don’t see what the fuss is all about. I’m here aren’t I?”
Now that I think about it, I’ve been telling him for the past three weeks that Gordita was coming to live with us again. Maybe he was trying to show me his displeasure. Oh well, she’s here.

Gordita, by the way, thinks she is a human. Which works out I guess because I have a baby who thinks she’s a cat. I have no doubt in my mind that Gordita will teach her everything she knows – Including how to change the channel on the TV with the remote control.

Meet Gordita

Stitch Likes Big Heads

We have two baby gates up. One is at the bottom of the stair case because Little J loves to go in search of Stitch upstairs. The other is between the living room and the kitchen/dining nook. This is to keep her away from the litter box, the cat food dish and fountain, and the oven. I believe that this photo says it all. But for those that might like a little extra insight:

Little J was sad that her head was too big to squeeze underneath the baby gate like Stitch does, and Stitch was rather thankful that Little J has a big head.

Up The Stairs

I have been MIA from blog land….
Because my husband has a new job that has my sleep schedule all screwy
Because when Little J is asleep I’m either sleeping or eating
Because it is summer vacation and all three boys are home ALL DAY LONG
Because Little J is crawling and cruising and letting me know she is a mini version of me.

BUT here I am. The boys are on vacation at their grandparents, Little J and the hubby are both asleep and it’s early enough in the evening that I’m too awake to sleep.  And Stitch….Stitch is not happy with me.

Well, Stitch had quite the shock today. Up until today the staircase and the baby gates were his Great Wall of China when it came to needing a barricade from Little J.

To be fair I probably could have at least warned him. But my desire to capture the element of surprise is far too strong to ignore. Today I let Little J crawl up the stairs. It’s something my husband and I have been allowing her to do if we are right there behind her spotting her the whole way up. Let me tell you, that little girl is a speed demon when it comes to wanting to go play with Stitch.

She watched Stitch run up the staircase. She looked at me and I said “Oh OK.” So up we went – One right after the other up the staircase. And at the top was Stitch, just coming out of Big D’s room.

How I wish I had brought a video camera with me to capture the expression on his face. He was mid-paw walking out of the doorway when Little J popped herself up over the top step. He stopped, paw raised and I’m pretty sure that the though going through his head was something along the lines of “Oh Poop!”

Of course it was my fault and I was rewarded with a glare of evil thoughts I’m sure he would consider doing if I wasn’t the one providing his food every day.

If he thinks she is this big of a pain in the butt now just wait until she’s walking … which is sooner than later unfortunately for both me and him.

I Think My Cat is a Masochist

I’ve owned Stitch for about 5 years now. He’s pretty unique compared to some of the other cats I’ve owned. After observing him I’ve concluded that Stitch is a masochist.

I didn’t come to this conclusion lightly. At first I thought perhaps I was the clumsy one. I do have a tendency to walk into corners and walls (that are parallel to my walking path). It started off with his tail darting underneath a foot about to step or a thigh as you’re about to step. And it escalated into full out paws finding their way under feet while I’m walking.

Well, after this last week I’m convinced that Stitch likes the pain. Not once, not twice, but at least a minimum of four times Stitch and I ran into each other. By running into each other I mean that I was walking somewhere and no matter how much I tried to step over or around him, that cat always managed to get under my feet. I’m practically convinced that he purposely put his paw under my foot each time.

He went to the great effort of moving under a foot that had just about cleared over him. I think he might have dived, paws outstretched to get his paw right under the paw of my foot.

He always goes to the trouble of meowing, loudly at me when it happens. Yet, he keeps doing it. I’ve also seen him run smack into the legs of chairs, roll straight off the couch and even dare to fall asleep sitting up and start to sway one way or another.

Even more recently, he allows Little J to pull his ears, grab his face and fur, and just yesterday his tail. He acts like he doesn’t enjoy it, however he doesn’t run when she comes near him. He sits there as she crawl up closer, and closer with baby hand outstretched. Half the time he only moves because I’m shooing him away to avoid pulled fur.

I think he’s pissed at me for ousting him. He’s glaring at me as he’s perched from the back of the couch. Either that or he’s pissed that I’m still awake with the lights on after 1am ... Maybe a little of both?

Stop Judging Me

I might be paranoid and a tad insane … but I swear the cat was judging me today on my parenting skills.

The younger boys’ bookshelves were a mess. A library book was missing and I had about had it. I took all the books off the shelves in piles and had them organize them and put them back nicely on the shelves.

I sat in the doorway holding the baby. I sat in the doorway because stuff seems to get done when I’m standing there. And I was holding the baby because when she’s with me the urge to lose my temper is lessened. And there from the top bunk was Stitch looking at the boys working to put the books back on the shelves and then looking at me.

He had a look in his eyes … like he was judging my parenting skills. He kept looking at me and I couldn’t tell if it was disappointment or disgust or what. Maybe he was laughing at me. Finally I got fed up with it. I looked him in the eye from across the room and silently mouthed “Stop judging me. If you think you can do better then you parent them.”

To this he turned around, tail up and laid down for a nap.

All I could think was “What a jerk.” We never found that missing library book but, those books got put back on the shelves nicely.

My Cat Has Amazing Patience

I knew my cat had patience when we first moved in with my husband and the three boys. The boys would want to give him hugs and non-comfortable pats on the head. He never bit them or scratched them. He leaned away from them … the classic body language cue that you’d prefer the person you were leaning away from to get away from you. But children don’t pick up on that sometimes.

But now that we have a 7-month-old, crawling, active baby in the house I have really come to appreciate his patience. She loves her cat. She sees him walk in the room and she starts flopping her hands and feet like crazy. She follows after him, crawling at a quick speed around the house.

But I think most of all his Amazing Patience can be seen here in this photo below. No baby or cat was seriously hurt in this photo. Enough said, the photo speaks for itself.

For The Love of Cats

Normally with online communities you hear scary stories about how some stalker found your home because you shared too much info. But there are very positive things that can happen from an online community. I have a really heartwarming story to share from the CatChannel.com online community Club Cat.

A couple of months ago one of our members became very ill and had to be hospitalized. Some of our other members helped out by going to her house to help feed and care for her cats. Sadly the member passed away. She didn’t have any immediate family members and her cats had no one to care for them. But the kindness of the other Club Cat members didn’t stop there. A massive effort was made to find homes for her cats.

Some members traveled across the nation from the West coast to the East Coast and others from the South to up North and back again. Some of the people involved in this re-homing mission were relatives of Club Cat members. Long story short, all of her cats were placed in a new loving home (mostly with other Club Cat members).

Ever since I started working in the pet industry I’ve given some thought to what would happen to Stitch in the event that I couldn’t care for him anymore. I would hope that my parents or my sister might take him in. I keep telling myself one of these days I’ll write it all down and put some money aside just for him. Hopefully though, we won’t have to act on the plan.

I guess most people wouldn’t think much of it since he’s a “Cat.” But us other people get it. Our pets aren’t just a “cat” or a “dog” or a “bird.” Our pets become a part of the family and they too need to be included in a plan whether it be an emergency plan or when planning a vacation.

With all the crazy in the world it’s nice to know that there are kind-hearted people out there willing to step up and help out someone (to some a complete stranger) in need … or in this case the love for cats helped care for her cats.

Stitch Had Better Run

My house has been a circus lately. It started off with a case of food poisoning. Then Little J started teething. Then she started crawling. And I was suddenly in a flurry to baby proof, move things up higher and find the best way to rearrange the furniture so that the least amount of corners are out in the open.

Now, I am aware that some babies start to pick up and master crawling around the 6-7 months. However, Little J took the first wobbly crawling moves Friday, May 6 and she’s already cruising. Quite honestly, I blame Stitch.

He sits across the room, keeping his distance from the baby. But I know he’s taunting her, daring her to come get him. And now that she is mobile he had better run … and he had better run fast.

He had a close call today. He was sitting there, looking at her, daring her to come and get him. And this time she flew across the room. I wasn’t sure if his wide eyes were a look of shock, panic or fear. Maybe it was all three. Either way he realized he was in some deep kitty doo if he didn’t move. In less than 30 seconds he had gone from lounging to sitting, and then realized that moving away from the baby who was gaining ground was probably a smarter plan of action.

Luckily for him I intercepted her just when she was close enough to take a swipe at his whiskers. He sat there, frozen. I think he was in a state of shock.

Hopefully next time he’ll figure it out sooner than later. There will be a time when she’s too fast for even I to intercept.

For your entertainment … Little J’s first face plant as she “gets” the crawling down. I apologize for the grainy quality. My cell phone is not the best at video, but that’s what we had when she figured out how to crawl.

Foot Massage For A Head Scratch

The thing with having an infant is that the cat no longer has free range of my lap. In fact, the only time he can get some full-on lap time is when Little J is sleeping.

The funny thing is that Stitch will squeeze as much of his body onto whatever small part of my lap he can get on. Whether it be a knee cap, a small patch of upper thigh or placing his front paws stretched out on top of my knees he makes it happen.

And if there isn’t any room he improvises. For example, a minute ago I was holding Little J on my lap and perusing through Facebook. Stitch walked over, looked up and noticed there just wasn’t a chance of squeezing up on my lap. Instead, he opted to snuggle up against my toes. He nuzzled my toes insisting I give him some head scratches.

I must admit, it felt kind of nice to have some soft, fuzzy fur on my toes. The wet nose was a bit shocking though at first. But the purring that soon followed was almost massaging my feet. I wonder if cat fur helps to exfoliate in any way. I might be on to something here. It would be a win-win for both me and Stitch.

3 Ways Infants and Cats are Alike

Way 1 – They Depend on You to Feed Them
Little J is starting off on some of her homemade baby fruit and veggie mush. As soon as she is put in her high chair she opens her mouth waiting for that first bite. And she keeps opening it until I spoon in some of the deliciousness. Even more extreme, she will yell and yell at me until I nurse her. If I don’t get to her in time (because maybe I was trying to take a real shower while she was napping) she turns the real tears on and the real crying begins. As soon as I go to nurse her she makes sure to take a break from nursing to tell me a thing or two.

Stitch will meow, and meow, and meow until I go and put food in his bowl. And if there is left over food still in his bowl from the last meal he will continue to meow, and meow, and meow until I dump the old food back into the container and scoop him a new scoop. Even more extreme, if it’s a weekend morning and I decide to try and sleep in he will stalk me. He will sit outside my door until I wake up and as soon as he either senses I’m awake or he hears me moving around he starts meowing to feed him. Sometimes if the door is cracked he will sit at the edge of the doorway and stare at me. He will stare at me until my eyes flutter open in a paranoid frenzy because I can feel that I’m being watched. It’s creepy.

Way 2 – They Both Enjoy a Clean Place to Poop
Does your cat sit by the door to whatever the room his litter box is in and watch you clean it? Stitch does. He watches you with those yellow eyes as you dig around for buried treasure. He watches as you pour in the new litter. And you’ll have just stepped out the door when he tears pass the door way, bolts into the litter box and takes a big smelly one. Luckily for me I have older children to pass this frustration on to. So from my view point it’s kind of funny, but not so much to them.

Little J does the same thing. I’ll change her diaper and then a minute later she’s got that crunched up look of concentration on her face as she takes a big smelly one. I’ve gone through three diapers in a matter of 5 minutes once simply because I just apparently didn’t have the patience to wait for her to be completely done doing her thing.

I guess I can’t really blame them. I’m not a fan of using port-a-potties.

Way 3 – Trimming Nails is a Main Event
Now I’m not sure whose nails are easier to trim between Little J and Stitch. Both of them flail around. Stitch growls at me while I trim his. I always give him a treat after a nail trimming session in the hopes that he will associate getting his nails trimmed with getting a treat. For the past five years that I’ve owned Stitch this method has not worked. I still give him a treat though for simply having to put up with the duty which benefits me more than him.

Little J simply has more joints to move. She flexes her fingers, flails her feet and hands around, and wiggles her fingers. It’s a little nerve frazzling because I don’t want to cut her while doing it. But the way that she pinches at me and scrapes her nails across my skin it’s a necessity. At least she doesn’t growl like Stitch does. It makes me feel a little less like I’m doing horrible, horrible things when I’m trying to trim her nails.

This is an older photo of Stitch and Little J. But they're pretty much always together ... both fighting for a spot on my lap. (More Stitch squeezing as much of his body as possible onto whatever small part of my lap isn't being taken up by her.)

Stitch Is Not A Dog

To save money I’ve decided that I’m going to make my own baby food for my 6 month old daughter Little J. Last night she was chowing down on a concoction of pureed carrots and apples. She thought they were pretty tasty. Except she also thought it was pretty fun to spit it out once in a while to watch it splat on the ground.

I thought maybe Stitch might be interested in helping to clean it up. Silly me.

I called him but he ignored me. So I opened up his food container, scooped up some food and then dropped it back in. I know, it was kind of a mean trick to play. He eventually came downstairs from which ever room he was napping in. He took a look in his food dish and scowled at me. There was no fresh food in there.

I got him to walk over to the baby food splatter on the ground. He sniffed it and gave me the dirtiest look. I’m pretty sure inside he was saying:

“I’m not a dog you moron. I don’t eat your nasty leftovers from the floor, especially if that baby touched it.”

He then left with his tail held up high. He is obviously above eating off of the floor. I should have known. He doesn’t even eat his kibble off of the floor. And trust me when I say that there are all kinds of broken kibble crumbs around his food dish. However, he is completely fine in eating every last crumb of cat treat out of your hand. Even if that hand belongs to one of the boys or my husband (all people he is still on the fence about).

Like I said. Silly me.

Green Apple or Passion Fruit

I went to the pet store the other day to get Stitch some more food. He had about one meal worth left in the bin and I’m rather sure he knew it. I’m not sure if you’re like me but I like to make a list of things that I need to get. Then I walk into the store saying the things I need over and over … as if repeating them continuously will result in me only getting those things. It only works 25 percent of the time but I figure if I keep doing it maybe it will work more often.

With that said, once in the pet store I decided to take a look at some flea control shampoos. The little buggers have made breakfast, lunch and dinner out of my poor cat so I thought a good dip was in order.

The only problem was that there weren’t any flea shampoos that I wanted to get. Go figure! What did catch my eye was the line of shampoos called “Pet Head” by the company that makes “Bed Head” products for us human folk.

At first it was the bright colors that lured me to crouch down to look at the bottom shelf. Who wouldn’t want to take a closer look at those fabulous colors and fancy bottles?

However, upon closer inspection I discovered that each of these bottles had a different scent to them. They ranged from Green Apple, to Passion fruit, to Blueberry muffin, to Asian pear, to Strawberry yogurt, etc.

I actually considered what scent I would get for Stitch, if I ever wanted to give the line a try. Stitch didn’t seem like the passion fruit or strawberry kind of cat. It was down to Blueberry muffin and Asian pear. If only they had scratch-and-sniff labels I might have actually considered it.

The problem is that I didn’t think I wanted my cat to smell like anything good enough to eat. That and the thought of the “wet cat” smell plus whatever fragrance I paired it with wasn’t very appealing. It makes me think of those air fresheners that don’t do anything but fuse fragrance with the stench of the bathroom.

To my bank accounts relief I walked away from the fancy, shmancy pet shampoos. Another couple dollars saved from being spent on something for the cat that wouldn’t get used. For example, why buy a cat bed when our beds work just fine?

My Cat Is Pretty

On the way to driving the boys to school today the morning radio show had a segment called “My Pet Is Crazy…” where listeners called in with stories about why their pet was crazy. There are some nutty cats out there. The stories ranged from a cat who though she was a dog, to another cat who emptied out a lingerie drawer to another cat who would drag naked Barbie dolls up to her owner’s room and leave them in a pile next to the bed.

After hearing these stories I was a little disappointed to conclude that Stitch isn’t crazy. Stitch isn’t crazy in the slightest way …except for maybe when he gets high on catnip.

Instead, Stitch is vain, and odd and completely OCD. Yes, my cat is obsessive compulsive when it comes to his looks. Perhaps it's because he's an Orange County cat where most of the guys take the extra step when it comes to their looks. Maybe it's because he has all those pretty shades of gray and cream. Maybe it's because he has those extra thumbs so he feels the need to make sure the rest of him is pretty so people don't stare at his abnormalities.

Stitch is such a pretty cat. I don’t just mean that his fur is a pretty pattern and pretty colors either. I mean that he feels the need to make sure his fur is always in good looking order. He is always grooming his fur. He doesn’t like to play fight because it messes up his fur. If he is walking by you and you dare to pet him or brush up against him accidentally he will stop in his tracks and lick wherever you touched him back to perfection.

One time he got outside and I spent a good 25 minutes trying to get him to come back in. He declined the offer. I watched him frolic (and yes I mean frolic like a baby deer) across the empty lot next door in the moonlight. Halfway across the field he stopped mid frolic to lick a patch of fur on his shoulder. I guess the night breeze must have blown it the wrong way.

Do I really want a crazy cat that would dig my panties out of the drawer and hide them in a most embarrassing spot? I guess not really, but it would be fun talk and laugh about. Instead, I got the pretty cat who can’t go 10 steps without stopping to fix some patch of fur.

I guess that's part of the reason why he doesn't like it when anyone touches him. The boys try to give him hugs and he always has a look of disgust and irritation on his face as he slightly leans away. It must be tough to be so pretty. Maybe he should try being crazy just for a day to see what he’s missing out on.

Not Ashamed

I thought I’d share a heads up on a fact that you might have noticed from my last entry. Like any fabulous Cat Lady I am guilty of Anthropomorphism. In other words I have given my pet cat human characteristics.  It really isn’t limited to cats either. Any animal I meet that gives me attitude, personality or guff is going to be labeled and have judgment passed upon it. 


Don’t get me wrong. I’m fully aware that my pet cat is my pet cat. However, he really is quite a character. 


He gets really mad at me when I leave for a couple of days whether it is on vacation, business trip or short weekend trip overnight. Personally I like to think that he’s angry with me for leaving and not calling home to let him know that I’m OK. I also think that he possibly has mommy abandonment issues considering that his first owner abandoned him to fend for himself in the alleyway. Another theory is that he is just a spoiled cat who expects someone to feed him, pet him and pay attention to his beck and call and he’s not pleased if I don’t come home at night to do this.


Example 1: I went on a business trip to Savannah, Georgia. I left for a little under a week. When I came back Stitch looked at me when I walked in the door. He followed me to my room where I put my bags down and when I beckoned for him to come for a pat he walked away. Later that evening while watching TV with my sister he let me know that he didn’t need me because he had her. He ignored my asking him to cuddle and jumped up on her lap. And then he looked across the room at me and turned up his nose in my general direction. He got over it after a day or so, but I never forgot the way he let me know what he thought of my leaving.


Example 2: Whenever my husband or the kids are touching him, holding him, hugging him (he’s not a very physical cat unless he says it’s OK) he shoots me this look of death. OK, maybe not death but it clearly says “How dare you put me in this situation. I’m doing this for you because you made me come live here.” 


Those are just a taste of his personality showing through. As frustrated as he may be with his new situation I do have to hand it to him for slowing letting my husband and the kids in. We’ve been living with them for about 2 ½ years and Stitch is just lately starting to go to my husband for snuggles. He then jumps up and runs as soon as I walk in the room to pretend that he wasn’t and gives a look of disgust for me to see. I know he’s just putting up a front. 


Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I’m not ashamed of the fact that I talk about my cat as if he were one of my kids. I know anyone of you reading is most likely guilty of doing it at least once in your life too. It’s only human nature in my opinion. And if you need some proof below is a photo of Stitch looking at me with anger, rage, disgust and shame. "How dare you put this stupid chicken hat on me!"

How I Became a Cat Lady

I’ve always been a cat lovin’ kind of girl. I grew up with cats (and a dog, and a bird, and fish.) And then I went to college, where I couldn’t have a cat. So I had to figure out something else.


I started my independent adult life off with betta fish and plants. The plants died. The betta fish actually lived (for the most part.) One of them died when I came home from school at the hands of my parent’s cat Gordita. But the other two made a cross-country trip with me to Michigan where I did another couple years of school.


Then winter came, and the snow, and the below freezing temperatures and my California mind frame didn’t get a heater for my fish. My fish froze. I then had access to my roommates’ dogs. They weren’t cats but they sort of filled that void.


Then I graduated and decided that Michigan and snow just weren’t for me and high-tailed it back to the warm West Coast.


In 2006 I decided to try plants again. They died … again.


That’s when I decided that I needed to have a cat again. One day I went to a shelter and met Stitch.


Stitch had been there for a couple of weeks. They thought he was around 2 years of age. He had been abandoned by his original owners and had been living in an alley way with his own couch and a refrigerator up to being brought into the shelter. Stitch also had thumbs on all four of his paws and wasn’t too fond of people…except for me.


They brought him into a meet and greet room and he came right up to me. When I saw the astonished looks on their faces I decided that Stitch and I were meant to be. So Stitch came home to live with my sister and me in Orange County. And I became an official Cat Lady.


Stitch had a couple of cat trees, all the toys he could want, good quality food and a cat fountain.


I’ve always joked that Stitch is an OC Cat. He is far too obsessed with how he looks. He is picky as heck about where he drinks his water from. He also doesn’t act like the stereotypical “manly, macho” tom cats. Nope. Stitch is by far the metrosexual of male cats. I’m certain that if allowed he’s get his eye brows waxed, he’d shop at Banana Republic for clothes and he’d go lounge out at the beach all day.


Stitch and I had a pretty good life going on. Then I met my ‘now” husband, and his three kids. And we moved up to the colder, Bay Area in Northern California. And now we have the new baby in the house.


Sometimes Stitch gives me a glare asking “How could you do this to me?”


All I can say back is “I’m sorry.”

Stitch doing what he does best - napping