Report Card

Pinot:

Cooperation- A
Gets Along With the Help- A
Playtime- A+
Eating- A+
Plays with Others- A
Doesn't Bother Co-tenant- B
Bathtime- A-
Nail Clipping Time- A
Ride Home- A

Overall Grade- A

Comments: Loved the place. Wanted to play everytime someone came in the room. Loved the food. Wanted more playtime with Minette. Told her she was a dud.


Chow Mein:

Cooperation- A
Gets along with Help- A
Playtime- A-
Eating- A
Plays with others- B
Doesn't bother co-tenant- A
Bathtime- C-
Nail Clipping Time- C
Ride Home- B (for once he didn't barf)

Overall Grade- A-

Was ok, but kept complaining saying he wanted to sleep between the Old Guy and Pretty Lady, not with Pinot. Loved the food.

Minette:

Cooperation- D-
Gets Along with Help- D-
Playtime- D
Eating- C
Plays with others- F
Doesn't bother co-tenant- NA
Bathtime- D
Nail Clipping time- D
Ride Home- C- (complained all the way)

Overall Grade: D

Comments: Hated the experience and hissed and growled at the help. Spent most of time in kitty litter. Started to warm up just when it was time to go home. Told help, "Even if you give me Tuna, I won't eat it because I'm on cat-strike."

Home Comming

Accoding to my biological cat-clock, the Old Guy should be picking us up from the cat dungeon in about 5 hours. Can't wait to give him a piece of my mind.

Baaa Humbug!!!!!

Today was a beautiful day in Manhattan Beach. The sun was shining, it was warm, the wind was off shore and Chow, Pinot and I were just relaxing in our various relaxing places: Chow in the newspaper basket, Pinot in his "hammock" which is really the top of a pad on a chair, and me on the hardwood floor, trying to keep cool. Then . . . the Old Guy came home. Well, Pinot and Chow just lay there in their places while I chased him around for a scratch. But he was hard to pin down. First he went in the garage and closed both doors so I couldn't go in. I heard some rumbling around in there but could not tell what he was doing. Then he came out and brushed me out of the way. He walked upstairs to Chow who just lay there looking at him, expecting a scratch. Instead the Old Guy grabbed him and carried him into the garage. When he came out, Pinot was standing next to the door trying to find out what was up. The Old Guy grabbed him and took him into the garage. Well, I didn't know what was going on so I played a little hard to get until the Old Guy cheated by pretending to put more food out. I didn't bite immediately, but eventually, my curiosity got the better of me. Into the kitchen I went . . . trapped like a rat. The Old Guy grabbed me and took me into the garage too. There I saw a truly pathetic site. Chow and Pinot were caged and my cage was waiting. Once inside, the Old Guy put us in the blue car and off we went on Mr. Toad's wild ride to the cat kennel. Seems like the family, without us, is going to NYC. We will be spending our time in El Segundo until after Christmas. All I can say is . . . . [see title above].

Livin' the Good Life in the Cat Condo

Pinot and I have a new cat condo. We used to share the doll house in the garage but we both got too big. And, besides that it was too isolated in there. We want to be where the action is. Today Chow walked by and I had to do the hissy on him. Unfortunately, this condo is only built for two. Sorry Chow.

The Legend of Barbie's Head

Once upon a time, so I'm told by the Old
Guy, Tera owned a Barbie which she and her friends played with. Even Derek played with Barbie when he was young. Well, after the kids grew older Barbie ended up in a box or drawer or some other dark place and was forgotten. Then when the family moved from 7th street, Barbie was also moved, but to a storage unit with many other toys. Last year the Old Guy began cleaning out parts of the storage unit and found Barbie, thinking that the Pretty Little Girl might want to play. So, Barbie came home . . . and got more than she bargained for. This is because there were some small creatures that really enjoyed Barbie. First Pinot, then me. And in the course of discovering Barbie we proceeded to decapitate her, hence the beginning of the legend of Barbie's Head. The legend is that every night Barbie's Head is placed in the cat toy basket, and almost every morning she is found out of the basket, as though she was trying to run and play like she could when she had a body and small children populated the household. Interestingly though, she does have a body, and unlike her head, it just lays in the basket, cold and lifeless. Although she rolls around the house looking for her body, she never finds it until the morning when she can only lay there waiting for the quiet of night, after everyone is asleep. The reality is that try as she might, Barbie's Head will never be permanently reunited with . . . Barbie's Body. Because even though the Old Guy does the reuniting, we rip her head off and send it off wondering the house "on it's own", with our gentle assistance. But the one thing that amazes me . . . she always has a big smile on her face. Yes, Barbie's Head is quite a gal.

The Old Guy Goes Off the Deep End

A very weird thing happened last night. A lot of people came over and ripped up all of the wrapped boxes which the Pretty Lady has been wrapping the last couple of weeks. The weird part about it is that this is exactly what Pinot and I have been doing for the last week, but getting yelled at for doing it. Then they all went to see stuff explode over the Manhattan Pier. When they came back the Old Guy did a cat inventory: Pinot, check; Minette, check; Chow . . . No Chow. The Old Guy freaked. He looked under every bed, in every closet, up on every shelf. You name it, he looked there. Then he went outside and called Chow, positive that one of the guests had let him out of the house. No Chow. He kept doing this and the Pretty Lady was kind of getting annoyed at him because she wanted to rip up more of the boxes. Then the Old Guy went into the garage to search (for the 3rd time). He heard a jingle, looked up and hiding on one of the more isolated and stuffed shelves, Chow peeked over the edge. Of course he wouldn't jump down so the Old Guy had to climb a ladder, at which point Chow dug his claws in to whatever was available, while the Old Guy tried to drag him down. Finally succeeding in dragging Chow out, the bedraggled Old Guy returned to the party. I don't get it. Why not just let Chow be Chow? Heck, all of us cats know that sometimes we just want to be alone. Frankly, I think the Old Guy has lost it. I think the Pretty Lady agrees.

Cat Toys

There's lots of new stuff around here. Yesterday, the Pretty Lady was taking a Christmas present to Sarah. I guess when she put it in the car she didn't look at it too carefully. As she parked the car and grabbed the present she had a chance to look at the wrapping. The top of the present wrapping was cellophane. It was totally ripped to shreds. I guess the Pretty Lady was pretty embarrassed and wondered, probably for not to long a time, how the cellophane got shredded. Beats me.

However, this morning at 5:00 a.m. there was a lot of rustling going on. There are presents all over the place and someone, I won't say who, was attacking them. First on the left, then on the right, then in stereo. The Old Guy finally got up and threw several pillows at the sounds, which then stopped for a few seconds, and then started again, until he got up and yelled like a wild man, stumbling down the stairs while making all kinds of indecent noises. I think that guy should seek professional help!

Pinot Did That II

I've always been a stay-on-the-floor cat. However, lately I've discovered that there is a lot of interesting stuff on the counters, tables, and walls. Today, for example, I discovered that the Pretty Lady puts a lot of stuff on the dining room table. Of particular interest is the center decoration which consists of a round bunch of branches with red berries on them, surrounding a kind of tulip (3 tulips) shaped candle holder. At first I just batted at the branches. Then I started attacking the branches. Next thing I knew, the candle holder fell over and the Old Guy came running. I took off as quickly as possible, but the Old Guy saw me. As I took off I yelled "Pinot Did That!"

Helping the Old Guy

The Old Guy said our rainy season is about to begin. Well if it's anything like my former home, San Francisco, I'm staying inside. The Old Guy decided he had better inspect the roof of the house. So he set the ladder up on the third floor roof so he could climb to the 4th floor roof. Unfortunately for him, Pinot had other uses for the ladder. He said he wanted to check out the surf, birds, bugs and whatever else was out there. Finally, the Old Guy booted Pinot off the ladder so he could get to the next roof. The Old Guy climbed the ladder to the next roof and started his inspection. While he was inspecting, he looked up to see Pinot casually walking by like it was totally normal. Wait a minute. That means he climbed the ladder and jumped to the next roof!! Well, the Old Guy had to grab him, carry him to the edge of the roof, put him on the top of the ladder and hope he climbed down. No problem. Pinot jumped from the top of the ladder to the roof top lounge chairs and laid down. He said he needed a nap after all that work helping out the Old Guy.

I've Got Egg on My Face

Chow and Pinot like to jump up on the counter, or where ever else there is a chance to get food. Me? I'm a floor cat. Plus, I get plenty to eat around this place.

Our normal morning routine is when the Old Guy takes a shower, I come in the bathroom and roll around on the floor hoping to get a scratch from the Old Guy after he gets out. So today, when he came in, there I was. He was holding a plate in his hand which he put on the counter. He came over to me and instead of giving me a scratch, he grabbed me, and picked me up. Now I don't like to be grabbed or picked up unless I initiate the event, so I squirmed with claws out. The next thing I know, I'm on the bathroom counter staring at the plate the Old Guy brought in. Something smelled really good so I sniffed and then licked. Wow!!!!! Fresh fried egg yoke leftover. I licked with all my might. Thanks Old Guy!!!!

PS. Don't tell the resident family veterinarian about this because she has a problem with cats eating people food . . . on the counter . . . on plates. My response is that the only difference between us and Daisy Dog is that Daisy grabs and runs whereas we are confident enough to hold our position. Plus, Daisy has trouble jumping up on the counter.

Knock Knock. Who's There? Pinot!!!!

Sometimes I think the Old Guy is losing it. Today, while he was home making lunch for himself he thought he heard someone knocking on the door. He raced down the stairs, opened the door and no one was there. Then he turned around and realized what he was hearing was Pinot doing a major dig in the kitty litter that sounded just like someone knocking at the door. If you ask me, I think the Old Guy needs professional help.

Cleaning O' the Kitty Litter

One of the big events during the week at our house is when the Old Guy decides to clean the Kitty Litters. We are a 4 kitty litter household, 2 in the house and 2 in the garage. I guess the garage kitty litters are holdovers from my early days. We definitely have our preferences. Me? I prefer the garage kitty litters because that is where I began my stay here. It just seems natural. Chow Mein? He also likes the garage ones. Pinot is an in-the-house kindofguy. He cracks me up. When he is in the kitty litter he yowls. Then when he buries his stuff he goes at it like a construction worker digging a deep hole. You can hear his digging and yowling all over the house.

Back to cleaning day. No matter what time of day or night, whether we are sleeping or awake, when the Old Guy starts to clean the kitty litters we surround him and watch. I don't know what the fascination is but there is something about watching him clean the litter. I suppose one of the questions on our mind is, why on earth does he want that stuff? I mean, yuck!!!!! And yet there he is, digging, sifting, gently placing the material in the bag, and then more digging and sifting until it's all gone. Then on to the next one and more digging and sifting. Then he gently ties up the bag and puts it into a storage container. I don't know what happens after that but this seems really wierd to all of us. Of course we always get the last laugh because as soon as he's done, we all take big dumps!!!!! Ha, ha, ha. Poor Old Guy.

A Tree Grows in . . .

Lots of wierd stuff lately. Thanksgiving? Fagetaboutit. The Old Guy and Pretty Lady left for two days. Instead of Turkey we got two days of crunchies and water. Put that on the list of things that suck.

They got back Friday and then were gone from 2:00 on Saturday 'till midnight. Seems there was some kind of football game that provided lots of ammunition for family arguments. I overheard that the Old Guy, the younger Pretty Lady, the Old Guy's brother, the older Pretty Lady's sister and brother went to the school with the wierd red color and gold color and the older Pretty Lady, the Old Guy's son and the daughter who's a cat doctor, and the Old Guys parents went to the school with the pretty blue and gold color. Everybody says that the younger Pretty Lady's husband wanted to go to the wierd red and gold color school but couldn't get in . . . so he went to some school far away called Har . . . something or other, that also has a wierd red color.

Then on Sunday everyone left early to go to another football game in San Diego to see some old guy who stayed at our house for 2 months earlier this year. He is a quarterback for another team with wierd red colors, from Kansas City. Anyway, the bottom line is that we got lots of crunchies and water and not much else for 5 days.

Ok, so the absolute wierdest thing? Tonight the Old Guy comes home with a big green bush and drags it into the living room and sticks it on a table. I mean this thing is huge. While he was trying to position it in a stand he had, Pinot and Chow jumped up on the table to help. Chow tried to climb the bush and Pinot attacked it. Me? I didn't want to have anything to do with the bush. It looked like it was going to fall on everyone and the Old Guy kept yelling at it and Pinot and Chow and using naughty words. I stood back and watched. A pretty good show if you ask me. However, once he got it upright the really good stuff started. He pulled out long strings of wire with little bulbs on them. I immediately attacked and tried to run off with them. The Old Guy was trying to put them around the bush while I was trying to eat through the wire. Finally, the Old Guy got the wire on the bush and all of a sudden everything lit up red and green. Wow, there's that red thing again. Anyway, Chow, Pinot and I are wating for the Old Guy to go to bed so we can investigate further. Looks like I won't get much sleep tonight.

Pinot Did That

In the morning the Old Guy likes to sit at the computer and check stuff out on the web. While he is doing that Chow Mein comes in and likes to sit in front of the computer screen. The Old Guy likens it to a total eclipse of the sun. After a good scratch he usually moves on. Lately I have also started coming into the office when the Old Guy is sitting. I walk around his legs meowing until he picks me up and gives me a good scratch while I lay in his lap. He's getting good at surfing the web one handed.

Today, I decided to check out the office counter where Chow usually roams. Let me tell you, there are a lot of cat toys that I didn't know about. I must have attacked 10 pencils and pens knocking them to the floor, one by one. They are no fun once they fall on the floor, so after I knock one down I move on to another one. After all the pencils and pens were gone I found a really cool eraser which I could throw around. Sometimes it would get stuck under or in a folder. No problem. I just scratch until the folder, or its contents or both, fell on the floor. After 20 minutes of this I moved on. Well, when the Pretty Lady came in she was not amused to see her stuff all over the floor. When asked "who did that?" I answered, "Pinot did that". Unfortunately, the Old Guy was watching me the entire time. Man, that guy is everywhere.

Busted!

I am told that there used to be a cat living in our household named Mon Chella Louisa. It seems that Miss Louisa had to be separated from Chow Mein because when the were together they always fought vicious cat fights. There was a lot of concern that when Pinot entered the household there would be the same result. But, of course, Pinot and Chow get on famously, maybe because there are both males, who knows? Miss Louisa died a few months before I was brought to live in the garage.

Since I have aclimated to household living, there has been the concern that Chow and I would fight like Chow and Louisa. Both Pinot and Chow have told me the history. Anyway, even though I have now lived in the house with Chow and Pinot for 3 months, there is still an overhang of concern about me and Chow. Every now and then, sometimes in the wee hours of the morning, I'll let out the Minet hiss or yowl or screech which indicates Chow is picking on me. Every time I do this, the old guy has yelled at Chow to leave me alone. In fact, when the Pretty Lady and Little Girl were here from New York, Chow and I had a fur-flying-screachathon right in front of the Prettly Lady. She freaked and said Chow was trying to kill me. Ha Ha. Like I'd let him do that.

Anyway, after today I think there will be a change. Chow was laying on a table in the sun. I thought everyone was out of the room, so I walked over and sat under the table. Every time Chow hung his tail or leg over the end, I jumped up and attacked it either with paw or mouth. After I had been doing this for about 10 minutes, Chow got up and chased me. I hissed and screeched. We jumped at each other and then I really screached as I ran across the house with Chow chasing me. Unfortunately, I didn't realize that the Old Guy had been watching us for the whole time. As I screached around the house, I got yelled at. I think the jigg is up because what the Old Guy didn't know, until today, is that I am the one who insitgates the fights with Chow. Chow usually could care less about me. But I like to harass Chow until he chases me. Now the Old Guy knows the truth. Bummer!!!

Royalty

I have just realized that there is a certain medieval structure to the operation of my household. Chow Mein is the King. I, Minette, am the Queen. Pinot is the Court Jester. The Old Guy and the Pretty Lady are the Pawns. By the way, the King and Queen don't sleep in the same bed, much less the same room.

Things to do today

5 a.m. Cat chase with Pinot; attack Halloween decorations and drag them across floor.

6 a.m. Sit with Pinot and Chow staring at the Old Guy until he wakes up.

6:15 a.m. Follow Old Guy around in cat herd until he makes coffee and puts out soft cat food.

6:25 a.m. Turn up nose at soft cat food and walk away.

6:30 a.m. Watch Chow eat my soft cat food. I like crunchies better anyway.

6:45 a.m. Dance around house, run all over the place, puff up and set fur on full fluff. Chow and Pinot sleep.

7:15 a.m. Lay down in universal scratching position. When Old Guy comes over to scratch me, run away.

8:00 through 9:30 a.m. See 7:15 a.m. It's fun to watch him get frustrated.

9:45 a.m. Allow Old Guy to catch me and give me a full cat brushing.

10:00 a.m. Beat up on Barbie's head.

10:15 a.m. Nap time.

Running In Place

Chase at my house is a regular event in the morning. We all love to run up the stairs to the living room, make a quick left turn and then run outside on the deck. One problem I'm having is running on the living room floor. When I run up the stairs and make the left turn, my hind legs go flying out from under me sending my butt and then the rest of my body into a tail spin. I guess it's the shiny floor. I've tried everything, claws out, claws in, head up, head down . . . nothing works. Take offs are also problematic. Before I get going I tend to run in place for a second or so, sometimes falling over on my side. Personally, I prefer carpet. Makes for better clawing too even though the Old Guy yells at me when I claw the carpet.

Camping

The pretty little girls, Lulu and Nessie are staying at my house for 10 days. This evening I heard a commotion in the living room. The Old Guy kept telling Pinot to "get out of there". I had to check this out so I slid out from under the bed to see what was going on. I looked into the living room and there was a small red tent, on its side. The Old Guy was running around it yelling at Pinot. I guess Pinot had run into the tent and then thought it would be fun to jump at the sides of the tent. When he did this the tent flipped over. Of course this just encouraged Pinot to jump around more. So the tent was kind of traveling around the house with the Old Guy yelling at it. He finally got Pinot out of the tent. Then, he set it up straight. Well, I can tell you that the Old Guy and Pretty Lady wouldn't fit in that tent. Only Lulu and cats could fit in there. So, after everything calmed down, I walked over. Pinot had gone back in without the Old Guy noticing, and laid down. He took up half the tent. I walked in, sniffed around, and sat at the entrance. I think after everyone goes to bed tonight I'm going to do some camping in the living room.

Fur Flying Fiasco

I enjoy being in my house and am thankful that I live here. I love the food, I like playing chase, there's lots of interesting stuff and the Old Guy gives a great scratch. However, there are a few things that I don't like. I don't like to be touched unless I have made a request to be touched. I don't like a lot of comotion. I refuse to be told what to do.

Last night Chow and I were kind of playing. At some point I lay down and Chow pounced. Now it's not unusual for Chow and Pinot to jump on each other and growl and hiss. They are clearly playing. I guess Chow thought I was Pinot or just got carried away. At the end of his pounce, he landed right on me. I reverted to feral cat and latched on to him to give him a good what for. Well when I did that, I think he figured he could do it too. I screached, Chow screached, I growled, Chow growled and we wrestled across the living room floor. Marina was standing right there and then she screached. I think she said something like Chow Mein's killing Minette. Ha Ha. No way. I can take care of myself. The Old Guy came running and I went running under the bed with Chow following up to the edge. The Old Guy barked at Chow and he ran away downstairs. The floor was covered with clumps of fur. The Old Guy is presently examining it to try to determine whose fur it is. It seems like cat fur, once removed from the cat, all blends in together, except for white fur. Later that night the Old Guy spread catnip all over the toys and busy kitty. Chow and I took turns rolling in it and playing with Barbie's head. But he never touched me.

The Return of Frakenstein

Last night there were no humans in my house. The Pretty Ladies and little girls went to San Diego to see Alexa and the catlike creature. I didn't know where the Old Guy went until he got home this morning at about 6:30. The Pretty Lady has been complaining about his snoring and so he is finally doing something about it. He said he went for a sleep test in Torrance. I didn't know what that was so he described it to me. He said he went to this office building. They buzzed him in because no one was there at 9 p.m. He went to the third floor and there was an office with a bunch of bedrooms. After he signed in, Clinton showed him his room. It had a bed, a bed table, a lamp, a mirror, a sitting chair and other stuff that made it look like a bed room. It also had a bunch of electronic stuff and a camera in the ceiling. Interesting. He said they glued about 20 wires to him: to his feet, his legs, his head, his face, and two straps of stuff around his stomach and his chest. Before they plugged him in he went to the bathroom and got a good look at himself. He said he looked like the Frankenstein Monster right before he broke out of Dr. Frankenstein's laboratory. After he got back, Clinton plugged him in, or actually plugged all of the wires into a computer link and stuck something on one of his fingers. Then Clinton said, "have a nice sleep." Wish I could have been there to see that.

Anyway, the Old Guy said he slept pretty well and ended the sleep with a doozie of a dream. It went like this: He was riding on a Harley with a bunch of other Harley guys and girls. He said it was nothing sinister, they were just riding down a pretty straight country road. Except, his Harley had a tiny handle bar like a mountain bike, except smaller. He said it was hard to control and he was always riding on the wrong side of the country lane. Then they stopped at a farm. He said the lady who ran the farm started to show him around. The first thing she showed him was something she was very excited about. She said she had crossed a deer with a camel. They walked around the corner of the barn and she said "there", pointing. Well, the result was a large bird like creature that looked kind of like an eagle crossed with an owl. Unfortunately, he didn't get an explanation because either the dream ended or he woke up. He said try as he might, he couldn't get back in the dream grove to find out what the heck she did to get a bird from a deer crossed with a camel. Then Clinton came in at 6 a.m. and said he was done. Clinton ripped, that's the word he used, ripped, off the electrical wires which hurt because they were glued on. Then the Old Guy drove home.

We were waiting at the door for the return of Frankenstein because we were all hungry. I hope I never have a snoring issue.

My BFF

It's been a little hectic at my house these last few days. The other Pretty Lady flew in from NYC with the Pretty Little Girl and a really small Pretty Little Girl. I didn't know what to think at first. The Pretty Little Girl, Lulu, chased me around a little. Didn't really like that much. She's slowed down after a few days now. I let her get within about a foot before I run away. She giggles a lot when she gets near me. The smaller one, Nessie, giggles and screams alot. But she isn't very fast. The other Pretty Lady is my old owner in SF. She still talks to me and makes cute cat-like noises, but I don't think I'll let her touch me.

This morning everyone was gone but the Old Guy. It is a beautiful sunny day and so clear you can see Catalina. After the Old Guy got dressed I walked in the bedroom, meowed and flopped on my side. The Old Guy knows that that's my signal to scratch me. Well he gave me the best scratch ever. I guess he likes the quiet too, and he just kept scratching me and I kept purring. Wow, I just realized I'm a lucky cat, especially when it's a beautiful morning and my BFF is giving me a scratch.

A Screech in the Night

Did you ever have one of those days where you just wanted to scream as loud as you could? You know what I mean. It happens to everyone. Yesterday the Old Guy and Pretty Lady were gone all day at UCLA. We didn't get fed dinner until 9:30.

Anyway, we ate and chased and so on. But, for reasons I can't explain, I just had to let out a loud screech. I tried to hold it in, and I did a pretty good job for a while. But finally I just couldn't stand it any more. I was laying streched out on the cool floor and all of a sudden Chow walked over and sat down near me. That was it. I let out one, and only one, of my loudest screaches ever. I mean it resonated throughout the house and, since the upstairs doors are open, the neighborhood too. I don't know why but that screech really carried. The Pretty Lady sat up in bed. The Old Guy came running. I guess the fact that it was 4:00 in the morning was a factor too. He ran in, in the dark, and there I was laying on my side looking at Chow who was sitting next to me. I looked up at the Old Guy and all I could think of to say was "What?"

Feeding Time at the Zoo

Now that I live full time in the house, I'm starting to get used to the feeding routine. To summarize, we get fed soft food twice a day, and twice a day there is a feeding frenzy! The morning routine begins at about 5:00 a.m. Ha ha, the Old Guy is fast asleep at 5 a.m. But Pinot and I aren't. Pinot starts the morning by jumping up on the Old Guy's, ah well let's just say he jumps on him in a place that is sure to get his attention. Then he walks a few steps to the Old Guy's chest and starts pawing at his face. He usually gets a few scratches from the Old Guy before getting tossed off the bed. That's the signal for Pinot and I to start loud chase games. Chow, who sleeps between the Old Guy and Pretty Lady, joins in too. At 5:30 the alarm goes off, but the Old Guy doesn't get up until 6:15. While he gets dressed we surround him. Wherever he goes, we go. He starts coffee, then he looks for the cat food can. If he doesn't have any soft cat food in the house, he goes to the big stash in the garage. We follow him down and then back up. He jingles the silverware which is the signal that food is on its way. Then he pulls out 3 cat dishes. At that point in time, Pinot jumps up on the counter to help and try to poach a few bites. The Old Guy complains to him but doesn't knock him off the counter. Then he puts the three cat bowls on the floor of the kitchen: Chow on the left, Pinot on the right, and me separated by about 10 feet. When I first got to go in the house the Old Guy had to stand guard over me and my food because Chow and Pinot finish their food in like 3 bites and then start looking for more . . . usually in my direction. After about a week I learned that if I growl, hiss and swing a paw they leave my food alone. Needless to say, the Old Guy doesn't need to stand guard any more. After we finish, Pinot starts begging for dry food if the dry food bowl is empty. The Old Guy immediately fills the bowl. Like Chow, Pinot has the power.

In the evening Chow stands guard at the window. When he sees the Old Guy coming up the stair he gives the cat sign and we all come running. Thereafter, we follow the Old Guy around until he complies. After that it's bath time . . . we self bathe. Last night we helped the Old Guy build a surf board rack for Derek's room. More on that next time.

The New Cat Toy

I guess having the carpets cleaned isn't so bad after all. The reason for this is when the carpets are finished, the cleaners leave a really unique cat toy behind. Chow, Pinot and I love it. At first we weren't sure what to make of it. Actually, I was kind of scared of it. So was Pinot, and Chow wouldn't touch it. But it just took a while before we realized that it is the best toy ever.

I'll try to describe it because I don't know what it's called. It's long, about 2 feet wide and it now crisscrosses our entire house, at least wherever there is carpet. Whenever we step on it it kind of makes a crinkling noise. That's why we were scared of it at first. Then we realized you could walk on it, run on it, hide under it, make it into a big paper ball, and tear it into a million little white pieces. I mean this is really cool. First Pinot and I played hide and seek. He would hide under it and wait for me to find him. Then he would jump out, I'd hiss and run, and he would chase me. Then I would chase him across the stuff and it would wad up into a big fluffy mess of white. After we would do this in the dining room we went on to the downstairs rooms. While we were down there, the Old Guy would straighten out the paper in the dining room so he could walk on it. Then when we were done down stairs, he'd straighten that one up. Then he would go up to the bed room and fix that one. By that time we scrambled up the one in the dining room again. I think it was the master Chow who discovered you could tear this stuff up into little pieces. So we did that for a while. Carpet cleaning? I love it!!!!

By the way, today Chow and I got into a big hissing cat fight. It started when he started bragging about how great the Dodgers are. He must have forgotten that I'm a San Francisco cat. But now we are friends again. We discovered that we both like the LA Kings and hate the Sharks.

Carpet Cleaning Day

Why is it that just when stuff smells perfect, at least to a cat, humans want to ruin things. When it comes to smells I like variety. Perfumee, stinky, sweatty . . . and stuff I can't identify, is the way I like things. It makes sniffing so interesting. But the Old Guy and Pretty Lady like everything to smell the same. Take the carpet for example. The carpets in the house were fantastic. You never knew what king of smell was going to pop up. It was a real cat treat. Not any more.

Early this morning the Old Guy started moving stuff all around the house and piling it up on the hard floors. It was very interesting, so interesting that as I rolled over to watch, the Old Guy snatched me up and put me in the bathroom. While I was sitting there wondering what was up the door opened and in flew Pinot. We sat there looking at each other and the door opened again and in flew Chow Mein. We were in there for 3 hours. This gave us a lot of time to see what we could do to remodel the bathroom. While we were doing this we heard a loud roar outside the room. Finally, after it got quiet the Old Guy tried to open the bathroom door. Sorry Old Guy. We opened a drawer right next to the door and it would only open about an inch. The Old Guy tried to work the drawer closed with his finger but it wouldn't budge. Meanwhile, Pinot stuck his paw through the door so the Old Guy couldn't close it. The Old Guy, having raised 4 kids and too many cats to count is pretty ingenious. He got a screwdriver and worked the drawer closed so he could open the door. Out we ran.

Yuck!!! What happened to the carpets. They all smell the same!!! Ewuuuu. Chow and I tipitoed all over. Pinot just walked out and laid down on the carpet. His last words were, I need to finish my nap. The bathroom playtime really wore me out.

Go Dodgers

Tonight the Old Guy and I watched the Dodger game. For the first 2 innings he gave me a good brushing. During the next 2 innings I took a bath on the couch. During innings 5 and 6 I took a good nap. That's all of the game I saw. I think baseball's boring so I went to find the boys.

Cleaning Lady Day

I took an informal vote amongst the cats in the house today. The issue is wheather Cleaning Lady Day sucks!!!!! The results were close, 2 to 1 in favor of it sucking. It seems that the Old Guy is very paranoid about us getting out of the house. So, on Cleaning Lady Day he hunts us all down and locks us up. Each one of us has a different take on this.

Chow Mein: When he sees the money envelope on the kitchen bar, he takes off and hides. Then while being dragged to the lock-up, which is really just one of the bedrooms not being cleaned, he struggles and scratches such that the Old Guy, upon reaching the designated bedroom, throws Chow in and closes the door.

Pinot: He follows to see what's going on and walk in voluntarily. He says he actually likes it.

Me: I am clueless. I walked into the bedroom after Pinot. But when the Old Guy tried to put the kitty litter in I ran out. The Old Guy chased me around the house and then gave up and walked into the garage. Well, when he walks into the garage that means I get a scratch. Not today. I'm locked in my cage with my water and kitty litter. Just like the old days. I vote that Cleaning Lady Day sucks!!!

Guilt and Patience

The Pretty Lady is in San Diego and so the Old Guy is on his own. The cat grape vine has it that when the Pretty Lady is away, the Old Guy will go to Manhattan Market and buy a fine piece of meat to barbque. And so it was tonight. The smells were intoxicating. Finally, the cooking was completed and he sat down with his steak to watch some kind of game where old guys, in bright uniforms, run into each other and fall down. During this process, some other guys keep yelling out stuff that I don't understand.

Anyway, tonight I learned valuable lessons from the Master, the Sensei of Food, Chow Mein. When the Old Guy was done cooking and had the piece of perfectly cooked meat on his plate, he walked to the couch to watch the brightly clad men with the screaming commentators, and he began to eat. Wow!!! I have never smelled something so good. As soon as he sat down I ran to the couch and jumped up and quickly walked over to the plate of good stuff. However, the Old Guy was very possessive of his food. He kept swating me away. Every time I moved to the meat, he wacked me.

While I was attacking the plate, unnoticed, at least by me, Chow Mein had jumped up on the Wyland coffee table. He sat down staring at the Old Guy. I mean, he just sat there. I kept making a move on the Old Guy's dinner, then getting pushed away on the couch, afterwhich I would would run back to the plate, only to get pushed back again. Chow just sat there, staring. It was surreal. He never even flinched a wisker.

Finally, much to my amazement, the Old Guy gave him a piece of meat, which Chow devoured. I attacked the plate again and again and got nothing. Chow, who sat there stoically, would get a piece every time he finished. Wow!!!!! I humbly Bow to the Chow. He is the Master, the Sensei. He is my hero.

Finally, after my 50th attack, the Old Guy took pity on me and gave me a few tender morsels. It tasted fantastic. But by then Chow had gone and was taking a bath. He said he was . . . full! I bow to the Master Chow.

I asked him what his secret was. He said, "My Daughter, the secret is: Guilt . . . and . . . Patience. The longer you stare, the more Guilt builds up in the Old Guy until he finally gives you the good stuff." Wow!!!! ChowMein, you are wise beyond your years!!!!

Addendum to The Etiquette of Brushing a Cat

At the end of the brushing, make sure you have treats available to give to the cat to reward him or her for allowing you to give them a brushing.

The Etiquette of Brushing a Cat

Now that I am acclimated to the house, I can take on some more intellectual pursuits. I'm going to start with the etiquette of brushing a cat. I'm starting with this subject because I'm an expert, and I love to be brushed.

Here are some of the rules:

1. The cat determines the time for the brushing. If the cat wants to be brushed, the cat will let you know. You really do not have to chase the cat all over the house for 15 minutes. By the time you catch the cat it will be so stressed out that the only way to calm it down is to give it drugs.

2. The brushing area should be in a quiet place and all other cats should be excluded. Cats are not into group brushings.

3. Have the brush ready and within arms reach. Do not put the cat in your lap, or hold the cat and then hunt for the brush. Because of rule number one, this may mean that you should carry a brush with you at all times.

4. The cat will tell you where to brush. This will usually be done by negative reaction (ie. biting, clawing, or general yowling) rather than positive feedback when you finally hit the right place.

5. Do not repeat the phrase, "when I brush the cat, I brush the whole cat, not just part of the cat." It's very annoying and the cat really doesn't care what you think.

6. Most cats prefer to be brushed behind the ears, on the jowls and on the neck. Start there and work down the back until the cat bites, claws or yowls. Just because it's fun to brush the cat's tail doesn't mean you should.

7. Sometimes, very rarely, the cat must humor the brusher and let him brush where the cat doesn't like it. For example, the Old Guy likes to brush the area right above my tail. I hate it, have let him know I hate it and yet he always goes there. I yap at him because I know he's going to do it know matter what I do, but he will eventually go back to my neck so it's worth sucking it in a little.

8. Do not just flip the cat over and start brushing it's tummy. This will result in a major scratching, biting hissathon and you really don't want to go there. The cat will let you know if the tummy is available for scratching.

These are just some of the rules. By way of example, in our house the brushing regimen is:

Me: ears, neck and jowls. Back is ok if light. Tummy is ok if I roll over on the floor. Do not touch my tail or the spot where my tail meets my back. My favorite area is in the garage on the brushing chair.

Pinot: Is ok with brushing so long as you don't mind getting bitten with every stroke. Otherwise its scratching only, and only when you are asleep in the middle of the night and he jumps on your stomach and walks up to your face, lays down and puts a paw on your nose.

Chow: Scratching only without the brush please. Favorite areas are the back and tummy, but only when splayed out on the floor in the universal scratching position. Otherwise stick to the ears, jowls and chin, especially when he is laying next to you in bed.

Good luck, and happy brushing.

Now I Know My ABC's

The Old Guy asked me this morning "who set off the ABC song on the child's toy in the living room." He told me it went off at 4:30 in the morning and he wants to know who did it. I asked "what ABC song?" He said he heard a lot of jing, jing, jinging, some paw thumping, and running as though there was some chasing going on at the time. He said he strongly suspects that more than one cat was involved. He also said that when he woke up, the ABC jingle played for about a minute. He also said that Chow was fast asleep next to him and the Pretty Lady. He said that leaves me and Pinot as the prime suspects. I answered that I had no idea what he was talking about. That I have an alabi. He asked, what's your alibi? I said "ask Pinot". He said he did, and Pinot said that he didn't do it either. I said, "well, maybe there's another cat in the house you don't know about. You know it's a really big house and the kids are always bringing new cats home." He wasn't amused.

Hearding Cats is Easy

You know how everyone makes fun of herding cats. It's supposed to be so difficult. Not in our house. In the morning, where ever the Old Guy or Pretty Lady goes in the house, 3 cats follow. If they are in the bathroom, 3 cats are laying on the floor. Today the Old Guy made breakfast and he had 3 cats running around the living room just outside of the kitchen. If he's in the garage, 3 cats are hanging out watching him. If the Pretty Lady is in the laundry room, she has 3 cats helping her. Herding cats is easy, when you know how to do it.

Jealousy

A couple of things today. As the Old Guy left the house today, Chow was sleeping in the garage in the towel bin. I think it's his new day-place.

I was laying on the landing to the bedroom and Pinot was laying there about 12 inches away from me, facing away from my face. He was flitting his tail back and forth . . . right in front of my face. As it would go by I took a swipe at it. It kept going back and forth, and I kept attacking it. Finally he looked at me and moved his tail away. So, I started swiping at his back legs. Finally, he had had enough and chased me down the stairs. I love morning play time.

I think the Old Guy is getting jealous of Pinot and Chow because now I play with them most of the day. It used to be when he came home and down to the garage I'd meow and go straight to the brushing chair. Now, it really depends and I'm not that fond of the garage any more. I really like doing stuff in the house and getting brushed on the sofa. I think the Old Guy is having a hard time adjusting. He's slowly coming around. But his old habits die hard. Wow, who would have thought that training a man would be so difficult.

Just Call Me the Housecat

Up until today I lived in two worlds. One world was my garage and the other world was inside the house. Well as of today you can just call me a housecat. I don't know why, but I now love the house! Last night we all slept soundly in the house. In the morning Pinot and I played chase. I really like starting on the ground floor and then chasing Pinot all the way up to the Old Guy's bedroom. Usually Pinot runs up the couch or one the the chairs and I go flying past him. Then I turn and run down the stairs and Pinot chases me. When the Old Guy came home for lunch today I came running out to meet him. I followed him around, occassionally meowing for a scratch. Sometimes I would lay on the floor in front of him and roll over so he would get the message. During the day Pinot and Chow are duds. For example, today Chow is sleeping in the garage in the beach towel basket and Pinot is sprawled in a corner near the bedroom. It's pretty warm here today and I guess they are tired. But not me. I want to play during the day. Wake up you duds!!!

The Great Chase

The Old Guy's usual morning routine is to make coffee, get the paper, take the Pretty Lady a cup of coffee, turn on the TV, sit down and drink his coffee and read the paper. After he sits down, there is usually some running, thumping, growling and general cat play between Pinot and Chow. Today, while he was reading the paper he heard collar bells ringing, feet thumping up the front stair case and then feet thumping on the living room floor. When he looked up Pinot was just racing off the top of the stairs and onto the top of the couch. He double taked when he saw the chasor . . . me. I finished my run going past Pinot and up the the bedroom landing. Then, I turned around and ran full speed to the front staircase and full speed down. As I ran by, Pinot jumped off the couch and chased me down the stairs. Playing chase is much more fun than I originally thought.

Good God Man, Bury That Thing!

This is a follow-up to the last blog. This morning, while the Old Guy was brushing me he said, "Geez, what stinks?" Then he took off the top of my kitty litter and there was a 4" long turd sitting on top of the sand. I think his next words were something like "Holy S..T" (hey, I'm only 2, I don't repeat language like that). Well, I'll tell you this . . . It Wasn't Mine!!!!

Pinot, if you're going to use the ladies room, at least flush!

Excuse Me, You're in the Ladys' Room!

We live in an unusual house. It has a living room, an office, a den, 3 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms and 4 kitty litters. Three of the kitty litters are in the house and one is in the garage. The one in the garage is the one I have used since I moved in. There used to be a small one in my cage, but when I got used to things the Old Guy set up a big one with a top on it, and put it next to my cage.

The Old Guy cleans the kitty litters almost every day. Today he came in with 3 big white jugs full of kitty litter. I guess he went shopping. He cleaned and refilled the 3 kitty litters in the house, which Chow and Pinot use, and then he went into the garage where he cleaned and refilled mine. Within a minute after he cleaned my kitty litter, and while he was stacking the empty kitty litter jugs he heard scratching in my kitty litter. He turned around to look. All he could see was the kitty litter with the top on it and a big orange head sticking out with a serene look on its face.

EXCUSE ME PINOT, BUT YOU ARE IN THE LADYS' ROOM!!!!!

Poachin' My Scratch

The Old Guy came home for lunch today. After he finished, he came in the garage to see if I was there. I wasn't, but when I hear him go into the garage I usually come running because I know he will either give me some food or give me a good scratch. There is a folding chair in the garage which he keeps set up near my cage. In the old days he would sit in the chair and talk to me when I was new, and later, after I had been here a few weeks, drag me out of the cage for a scratch. He still keeps the chair in the same place and when he sits in the chair I know I'll get a scratch or brushing if I come over to him. I love to be scratched and I like brushings even more, especially on both sides of my chin. It's when I purr the loudest, oh yeah, and drool.

So, he came in and sat down and I came a running over to him for my scratch. He picked me up and I laid on his lap facing away from the door purring loudly. He started to brush me. It was goooood! After a few brushings the rythym changed. He would do a few brushes and then stop for a few seconds and then do a few more and so on. Also, something smelled funny, kind of like Chow Mein. After a few minutes of brushing I looked behind me and could see Chow standing and the Old Guy was giving him a brushing in between my brushings. Wait A Minute!!!

I started to growl and tried to break free but the Old Guy held on and started to brush me faster. No Way!!! Finally he gave up and I jumped down. By then Chow was laying on his side next to the chair streched out in the universal scratching position. I stood staring at him about a foot away and growled. He just laid there and watched. Then I growled and lifted my paw. Ah Ha! That got his attention. He jumped up, kind of gave me a funny look and ran out of the garage into the house. That will teach him. No one poaches my scratch!

Who Knew It Was a Duplex?

The new, and much improved feeding arrangement is the Old Guy feeds Chow and Pinot in the kitchen and then I follow him into the garage where he feeds me . . . and closes the garage doors so Pinot and Chow can't come in and poach my food. Finally, I can eat in peace. I guess now that Chow, Pinot and I are friends, he figures that he doesn't need to play the food card to get us to know each other.

Speaking of knowing each other, my favorite place to sleep is the big doll house. I either sleep in one of the first or second floor rooms. Today, as I was laying on the second floor, Pinot came along. He jumped on the roof, which is the only place he will fit, stretched out, and went to sleep. Who knew the doll house was a duplex?

A Much Needed Vacation

This weekend I learned a few things about Chow and Pinot. First off, they like food a lot more than I do. Secondly, they are much more interested in me than I am in them. Thirdly, they are much more curious about the inside of the garage than I am curious about the inside of the house. Finally, even though I know them pretty well, they still kind of freak me out.

The Old Guy could tell I have been a little stressed. I generally won't let him pick me up in the house, only in the garage. Eating is a little tense, with the big guys on the floor, and the Old Guy having to chase me around the house and watch me eat on the counter. Last night was calm. But this morning, while Pinot and Chow were bouncing around I kind lf laid low. Finally, the Old Guy caught me but I didn't feel like eating. Also, I growled, squirmed, and gave him a tidy scratch that drew some blood. Sorry Old Guy, but I couldn't help myself. The Old Guy is pretty smart though. He said, "Minette, you need a vacation." So, he carried me into the garage and we sat down and he brushed me. I purred really loud and was really relaxed until Pinot ran in and laid down in my cage. The Old Guy had to drag him out and put him in the house, after which he closed the doors to the garage. Peace At Last!!!!! I forgot what quiet was. Last the old guy saw me, I was sleeping in my doll house.

And The Walls Came a Tumblin' Down

Lots going on here. My entry to the garage is still over the cat gate. Chow can jump the gate too. On Friday night the Old Guy was doing something in the garage. I decided to join him, so I jumped in over the gate. Then Chow decided to join us. Up and over. Well, poor Pinot was standing outside the gate looking worried. The next thing we knew, he was climbing the gate. Keep in mind it's only about 30 inches tall. He was climbing it like it was a mountain wall, one inch at a time. Well, I guess all the times Chow and I had jumped the gate had loosened it from the doorway, and also, well, Pinot is a bit of a plus size. As Pinot got close to the top, the gate gave way . . . timmmm----berrrrrrr. In crashed the gate with Pinot on it!!!! He was ok, I mean it was a fall of about 12 inches. But, we all freaked of course.

More news. Today the Old Guy took the gate down. The two garage doors to the house are always open so we all play in the garage whenever we want.

Now that there is no cate gate the Old Guy decided to feed all of us in the kitchen which is where Chow and Pinot used to eat before I came along. I guess the Old Guy was concerned about whether I would eat there or not. So he held me while he served up the food, and I got to eat . . . on the counter top!!! Wow, no cat gets to eat on the counter. I heard the Old Guy tell the Pretty Lady . . . "Don't tell the kids I'm doing this, they'll think I've gone crazy."

It Was a Dark and Stormy Night: NOT!!!

Last night everyone slept in the house the entire night. I even played with the boys. Our playtime began at 4:45 a.m. A little early for the Old Guy, but hey, whose house does he think this is anyway?

Chow is really a party animal. Who knew? There is a pint of kat nip on top of my cage in the garage. This morning while the old guy was reading his paper he heard a "clunk" on the steps leading up to the bedroom. He walked over and there was the pint of kat nip, with a tooth hole in the top. Chow had jumped into the garage and onto the top of the cage. Picked up the kat nip container in his teeth, jumped back over the cat gate into the house and carried it up to the Old Guy. The Old Guy sprinkeled it all over the toy basket, the busy kitty and the cat scratch post. Wow!!! Party On!!!!

Dark and Stormy Night III

Last night the Old Guy just threw me in the garage and closed the door before he went to bed. Geeez, one little hiss and growl. His last words to me were "I need some sleep tonight!".

Happy Anniversary

Hard to believe, but it has been exactly 3 months since that fatefull day on which I was kidnapped. I spent the day mainly sleeping in the doll house. The Old Guy gave me and the boys tuna juice and tuna remnants for a snack (he kept the good stuff for himself). I got a good brushing too. I have to admit, living in Manhattan Beach at the Old Guy's house ain't bad. I think I've put on a few pounds too. Gotta go, Barbie's head beckons.

Dark and Stormy Night II

I'm dictating this from the garage with the doors shut. Everything seemed to go ok last night. I actually slept really soundly in the cat toy basket surrounded by Barbie's hair. Can't get enough of that. In the middle of the night I woke up to growling and a hiss. For once it wasn't me. I guess the Old Guy got up and was looking for Chow. He ususally sleeps on their bed but didn't come up there. The Old Guy found him on top of the knick knack cabinet which is where he goes to be safe. The growling and hiss came when the Old Guy tried to drag him down. The Old Guy got him to sleep on the bed. Unfortunately, when morning came (it was still dark), and it was feeding time we had a hiss-a-thon. The Old Guy snapped and I ended up in the garage with my food and the doors closed. Of course I made him chase me around the house first!

It Was a Dark and Stormy Night

Actually, it was only dark. I almost made it through my first night in the house without getting thrown in the garage. As I say, almost. The evening started when Alexa, the little guy and the cat-like creature left. I was let in the house. I admit to being nervous, hence my slinking, rather than walking, around the house. Every now and then I ran into Chow and Pinot and of course I hissed.

Then everyone went to bed. Except me of course. I guess Chow usually sleeps on the bed between the Old Guy and the Pretty Lady. Well, Chow was very concerned about my presence so he kept jumping up and checking me out. I lurked around the bed and whenever I saw him I hissed or growled or both. I guess this gets to be pretty loud at 3 in the morning even though I thought I was hissing and growling at my normal level. Finally, the Old Guy got up after Chow jumped off the bed and landed near me. I guess my growl was a little louder than usual. Next thing I know, I'm in the garage with the door closed. I howled, but I don't think he could hear me.

However, when morning came, we all got fed (me in the cat gate and the boys outside of the cat gate) and then I hopped the gate and hissed and everything's normal, if you can call a house with three cats normal.

Joining the Boys Club

This has been an eventful weekend. On Friday, another pretty lady showed up with some interesting baggage. Her name is Alexa. She brought along a little guy (Eli) and a large cat-like creature named Daisy. I wasn't allowed to meet the cat-like creature because the Old Guy said it might freak me out and freak the cat-like creature out too. So I spent a lot of time alone in the garage this weekend.

However, the Old Guy did let me into the house a couple of times when the cat-like creature was gone. And a couple of times I let myself in by climbing over the cat gates. One time I climbed into the house and then the Old Guy chased me and I climbed back into the garage.

Alexa and the little guy and the cat-like creature left this afternoon. Next thing I know, the top cat gate is gone. Now there's only one low wire gate. If I can climb over two gates, I can easily hop over this one. Well, after he removed the top cat gate he brought me into the house and that's where I have been since about 7:00 tonight. I've been exploring, hissing, growling, but mostly exploring and meowing. This place is big. Pinot followed me around. One time I ended up in the cat toy box. There's lots of good stuff in there. Some toys are filled with cat nip and I went nuts on Barbie's head. Pinot watched. He said he likes Barbie's head too. Don't know where her body is and don't much care. Her head is where all the action is at. It's so fluffy, and it rolls. It's really fun.

Next I walked downstairs and growled at Chow. Chow just looked at me and then turned his back to continue looking out the window. Then I explored the office. Man, there's a lot of neat stuff in there.

So, I have finally joined the Boys Club. Things will never be the same Gentlemen. The Lady is about to take over!!!!

There's Some Hissin' in the House

So, we get home . . . finally. Chow and Pinot are let out in the house and I'm let out in the gagage. But, hey, I'm a people person now, don't ya know! So I walked around the garage howling. I want people. The Old Guy came in and held me, brushed me, talked to me, and so on. He went to work and when he came home he fed us. I didn't hiss as much as I normally do. Then the Old Guy went up to talk to the pretty lady and I figured I'd take matters into my own paws. I climbed the cat gates and howled. The Old Guy turned around and we were pretty much eye-to-eye, much to his chagrin. He came in and put rakes up around the cat gates. No problem. When he left I knocked them down and climbed back up. He came back in and grabbed me. But this time, to my surprise, he brought me in the house and put me on the floor. I looked up and there was Pinot. I hissed and growled. Pinot laid down and rolled over. What a wuss. Chow laid on the glass table and watched me. I admit I was a little nervous. So, I creeped around the top floor of the house. I looked in every nook and cranny. Pinot followed me around and every now and then, he blocked my way out. When he did that I gave him a good hissin'. Interesting, but he always backed down and got out of my way. And Chow, well Chow never left the top of the table. So finally after about a hundred hisses, growls, and yowls, the Old Guy said enough. He picked me up and back to the garage I went. But he said I can come out again when Daisy (who's Daisy) is gone. I guess the mysterious Daisy was locked in a room. So, I'm back in the garage and the door where the cat gates are, is presently closed. So I'm sleeping on a surf bag that Derek bought for me. Thanks Derek!

WTF? The Conclusion

I'm in a cage, in a room, with other cats in cages, including Pinot and Chow. I'm in my kitty litter. I don't plan to move. As if I could do anything except just sit and stare. Well, they know I can't move a paw. And I won't. I'll just sit here and be quiet, just in case they do suspect me.
They're probably watching me. Well, let them. Let them see what kind of cat I am.
A fly has landed upon her paw.
I'm not even going to eat that fly. I hope they are watching. They'll see. They'll see, and they'll know, and they'll say... (as she slowly raises his eyes to meet ours, smirking) 'Why, she wouldn't even harm a fly!' [with apologies to Alfred Hitchcock]. So, what can I say. The Old Guy ditched us at the Airport Kennel. Seems he's going to NYC for the week. Ok, for the first two days I stayed in the kitty litter. But, due to popular demand and outright food bribery, I warmed up and let the people pet me, carry me, brush me, and, finally (oh the horror), bathe me and cut my nails. When the Old Guy came to pick me up, I yowled all the way home. Then when I was in the garage I continued yowlling. I checked out everything, tried to run in the house, yowlled some more. The Old Guy appologized over and over. He brushed me, gave me treats, carried me, pleaded with me . . . ok, so maybe I'll forgive him. I haven't decided on the exchange rate for forgiveness yet. I'll let him suffer a little.

WTF?

An ordinary day today. I hear stirring at 6:15 a.m. The coffee grinder goes off at 6:20. The Old Guy feeds Chow and Pinot outside of the cat gate at 6:25 and me, inside the cat gate. Later the Old Guy comes in and gives me a scratch and plays.

Then, at about 2:30, the Old Guy comes in and pulls something long and black down from a shelf and puts it on the floor and unzips something. Then he talks sweet to me, picks me up, gives me a quick scratch, says he's sorry, and then stuffs me into the long black thing and zips it up. Trapped like a rat!

Next, I find out that he's also trapped Chow and Pinot. Chow is moaning, Pinot is saying, "Wow, this is cool". The Old Guy carried us, along with three blankets (USC, Kings, Dodgers) to the car, put us in and closed the door. Then we drove for like 3 hours (10 minutes) and ended up at a really strange place. The three of us lay in our cages while the Old Guy talked to some lady about treats, play time, who stays together, and who doesn't, and a bath and toe nail clipping.

Then, the three of us are taken down stairs to a room with a bunch of big cages (they call them Cat Condos, I call them cages). Chow and Pinot went into one double condo, and I got a single. The Old Guy put me in. I hissed, growled and then went and laid down in the kitty litter. Oh yeah, he threw in three mousies into each cage. Then he said he was sorry and left.

WTF?

Alas Poor Earwig, I Knew You Well

After the Old Guy got over the shock of seeing me standing on top of the cat gate, he came into the garage for our evening ritual. After my brushing I pranced around the garage and wouldn't let him pick me up. Then, to my surprise, a wild animal went running across the garage floor. Well, it didn't run very fast but it sure was interesting. I crouched down and pounced, then I batted, then I danced, then I batted, then I fained disinterest, then I attacked. This went on for about 10 minutes until the wild animal just lay there. The Old Guy called it an Earwig. I called it snack.

What Are You Looking At?

Two blogs tonight. This is the first. At about 11:30 the Old Guy came down to put me to bed. The routine is he comes in, hugs and pets and brushes me, and then turns on one of the small garage lights and then turns out the big overhead lights. Well, as he came down the stairs tonight I gave him a not so little surprise. As he got to the cat gates, he and I were looking eye-to-eye. That's right, I had climbed the gates and was clinging to the top. I meowed to him, "What are you looking at?". He didn't seem amused. I hadn't decided whether I was going in or not because that's when the Old Guy showed up. He plucked me from the top of the gate and took me back into the garage. Then he frantically looked around for the third gate which he had taken down but he couldn't find it. So, he put the top of the garden rake leaning against the top gate. I guess he figures that if I climb up there tonight, at least he'll have notice.

Cleaning Day at the Zoo

Right now I'm pouting. Every couple of weeks or so a really wierd thing happens at the house. In the morning I can tell that the Old Guy is a little tense. Feeding time is normal, getting chased in the garage is normal, but about 10:00 a.m. the Old Guy gets really nice to me. He talks soft, he pets me and brushes me. Then he throws me in the cage with only the kitty litter.

I've talked to Chow and Pinot about this (in between hissy fits), and they tell me that it's house cleaning day. Chow says he knows in advance when this day is going to occur because the Pretty Lady puts an envelope with money in it on the kitchen counter. Chow says that when the envelope goes up on the counter, he's goes out of sight because it means he's going to get locked in one of the bedrooms for a couple of hours. Today for example he said he was going to hide on the top of the knick-nack shelf, which is only about one foot from the ceiling in the dining room. Maybe that's why, after the Old Guy threw me in the cage, I saw him come in the garage mumbling to himself and grab the step ladder. I guess he sneeks up on Chow when he is on the top of the shelf, grabs him, and runs to Derek's room and throws Chow on the bed. Chow told me that he tries to resist with a major claw attack but that the Old Guy is too strong and too fast. I suggested that a nasty bite might be effective. Heck, it's worked for me.

Anyway, Pinot's take on the whole thing is that it's no big deal. He said the room is dark and cool, that he's usually sleeping during the day anyway and that they get let out by 2:00. He said he actually follows the Old Guy and Chow down the stairs to see if the Old Guy is going to make it before Chow freaks. Well, my take on it is that it sucks because it reminds me of the old days (July) when I lived in the cage. I didn't think the house was that dirty anyway and I liked all of the unusual smells. When their done, the whole place smells the same which is really kind of boring. Oh well, back to pouting.

Mousie

Two short stories about mousies. Yesterday, the Old Guy went off to surf. He keeps his board in my garage. When he got back he pulled a very wet red mousie out of his board shorts pocket and gave it to me. He said when he went to put on his leash, Red Mousie was stuck to the velcro. Wow, that means Red Mousie went surfing.

About a month ago, the Old Guy tied a big grey mousie to my cage with about 2 feet of string. I think he did this because I lost all of the other mousies he gave me. Sometimes, the Old Guy and I play a game. I lay on the furry mat by the refridgerator in the garage, and he throws the mousie at me. Since it is tied up it kind of takes off and then snaps when it gets to the end of the string. When it lands, I attack it. Yesterday, I got really excited and I chewed it really hard and growled at it. I like playing with the Old Guy and Grey Mousie.

Nice Kitty

Tonight Chow Mein and I kissed. I was standing at the cat fence and Chow was really close. He stuck his nose up to the fence and I stuck my nose up to the fence and our noses touched. I was so surprised that I don't remember what happend next. I probably stepped back and hissed.

Chaos

Well, the garage doors were in but they didn't work. Apparently the Old Guy was supposed to have an electrician come out before the doors were installed to have plugs put in for each of the three garage door motors but he says he forgot. So, for the next two days the old guy was moving stuff around the garage like a mechanical man, with the doors down and it was 85 degrees outside and at least 90 inside. It turns out that he could have opened the doors manually but he told me he didn't want to confine me to my cage because he felt sorry for me. "Well", I replied, "It didn't seem to bother you too much when the screeching was going on. And please recall, that you put me in the cage while the electrician was working yesterday, and then when the Pretty Lady came in to work, the first words out of her mouth were 'put the cat in the cage and open all of the doors because it's too hot in here.'"

Once upon a time, when I was first introduced to the garage, everything was perfect. When I finally was allowed out of my cage, I walked around and sniffed everything. Of course most of it was junk and there appeared to be no rhyme or reason for it's placement, but I didn't notice. Once I got used to everything, it was perfect. Well, now all of the junk is gone, everything is neatly placed, you can walk around freely, and there are no more hiding places. In short, it sucks. I want it back the way it was. I like chaos.

What's a Girl To Do?

Remember the garage door story I mentioned a couple of weeks ago. Well, yesterday the old guy scooped me up, put me in my cage, locked me in and put a towel over the cage so I couldn't see out. The first thing I did was attack and destroy my cat bed. Then I hid under the remnants and listed to six hours worth of the loudest pounding, screeching saws on metal and other obnoxious sounds. When it was over, the towel came up, the cage door opened and there were three new garage doors. Unfortunately, all of the garage stuff which was perfectly placed, was moved. It kind of freaked me out that all of my favorite hiding places weren't there anymore.

The Old Guy kept going in and out the door to the house and so I just lay there and watched him and kind of peeked in. Next thing I know the old guy scoops me up, opens the door to the house and takes me on a tour. Interesting place. I was a little stiff but I finally relaxed. He let me down and I got to walk around in the downstairs area which was full of garage junk. Then he picked me up and took me upstairs. Everything was going ok until I saw the big orange head sleeping on a chair. Well, so much for being relaxed. I puffed up, hissed, growled and the Old Guy ran me back to the garage where he launched me away from him just before I got a good bite on him. Later we took a couple of more trips through the house. I'm sorry but whenever I see the big orange head I freak.

This morning I was meowing before breakfast. The Old Guy brought down the food for Pinot and Chow and placed it where he always does, next to the wire gate. Then he puts out my food near the gate. I'm sorry, but no matter how hungry I am, I have to get a good hiss and growl in when I see the boys. But, no matter how much I hiss or growl, they don't seem very interested in me. What's a girl to do?

The Walls Are Slowly Coming Down

The Old Guy told me that the reason he has been gone a couple of days is that he took the Pretty Lady to the Surf & Sand in Laguna Beach for their anniversary. So his son, Derek, took care of me for a couple of days. He's nice enough but doesn't give as good a scratch as the Old Guy. Well as soon as the Old Guy got home, I didn't want him to leave the garage. I must be crazy! When he went out, I meowed like crazy and he came back in to find out what was wrong. Nothing. I just wanted him to . . . hold me. He gave me a good scratch and brush, cleaned the kitty litter and gave me snacks. At first I thought it was because he was happy to see me. But as I think about it I'm not so sure because after buttering me up he did something I'm not sure about . . . he switched the wire mesh gate from the middle to floor level. The Big Orange Head (aka Pinot) and the other cat, Chow Mein, and I were eye-to-eye with only a wire fence between us. Ok, so I hissed and growled a little (maybe more than a little), but at least there was no jumping at the fence. And Chow and Pinot didn't hiss at all. In fact Chow kind of looked at me for a while and then left. Pinot just layed down by the gate staring at me. I'm not sure what to make of this.

Collared

I hate it when the Old Guy decides it's time for me to try something new. It usually results in something bad. Things have been going great in the garage lately. I like being able to move around. I meow and come running whenever the Old Guy or Pretty Lady come in. And I'm more curious and less hissy when I see the Big Orange Head.

However, just when things start to settle down around here, the Old Guy decides it's time to go to the next step of his mission to tame a feral cat. While I was laying innocently in the Old Guy's lap, purring and getting brushed, he picked up a pink string with a bell on it. He called it a cat collar. He messed around with it. I thought it was a new toy and tried to grab it. The next thing I know I'm being strangled by the Old Guy and after that I've got the cat collar on around my neck. Well, at first I was none too happy. I rolled and shook. After a while I kind of forgot about it. The Old Guy went out and the Pretty Lady came in. When the Pretty Lady is around I like to roll on the mat near the washer while she works. Well, while I was rolling, the cat collar got moved up and got stuck in my mouth. I freaked and the Pretty Lady called the Old Guy who . . . You guessed it . . . chased me around the garage. But, I kind of like the Old Guy and don't try to hide anymore. So he finally caught me and took off the cat collar. It's now sitting on top of the cage and I'm trying to decide where to hide it from the Old Guy.

Our First Family Meal

This afternoon the old guy decided it was time for a family meal together. Actually it was more of a family snack. I guess he made a Tuna (fish) sandwich for himself. When he does this, he splits the tuna juice and some tender morsels between us. He put my serving on my side of the gate and Pinot and Chow's on the other side. We all ate together (with the gate between us). The food was good. The company sucked. I growled the entire time, but licked my plate clean. I wonder where this is going?

The Scary Furry Animals

Our mourning routine is the old guy gets up, makes coffee, then feeds the two upstairs cats and then comes into the garage to feed me (we're talking wet food here). So today, the door opens, the light comes on and there before me are two furry animals I have never seen before. The old guy was standing on top of them. Well, I wasn't getting near these guys. The were beige, short haired things with no eyes or feet. I circled, I growled, I even hissed. And even though the old guy talked nice to me I ran away. Then the old guy chased me around the garage. The problem was, everywhere the old guy went, the furry animals went too. Finally, out of frustration, the old guy left my food in my bowl and out he went, with the furry animals. He even had a name for them. He called thim Uggs. Well Mr. Old Guy, I'll thank you to keep the Uggs out of my territory!!!!

Drooling and Hissing

It's wierd but I drool. But I only drool when the old guy scratches me and brushes me. I can't help it. I'll lay in his lap and he will give me some good scratches on my back and then the side of my mouth. Then he brings out the brush and starts to brush where he scratched. I love it and purr really loud. Sometimes I bite him when he gets to aggressive or does more than one brush of my tail. But the drooling . . . I can't stop it. The more he brushes, the more I drool. Big drops too. They fall on his hands, pants and floor. Then he wipes his hand on me . . . gross.

Ok, something else new today. The old guy took off the towels on the baby gates. He had towels up so I couldn't look through that well. He had only left small peep holes for the big headed cat to stare at me. So after he took the towels down today I can see pretty well through the plastic. But above the plastic gate is a wire gate. Today, the big orange head came down and I hissed and growled and walked up to the gates. I stood on my back paws and stuck a paw through the wire gate to show who was boss. Well, the big orange head came over and sniffed my paw. I tried to smack him but I can't get much of my paw through. He didn't growl. He just looks like he wants to play. But when you are a feral cat, you can't be too careful. So I'll continue to hiss and growl for now.

Mousie

As I mentioned earlier, when I was first confined to my cage, each night I would go on a search and destroy mission. This wasn't difficult because the cage was only 3 feet by 2 feet and there wasn't much stuff in it. I destroyed my cat bed, I destroyed the busy kitty, I soaked the remnants of each in my water dish and I emptied my kitty litter. Every morning the old guy would put me into the little cat carrier and clean up my cage. One day the old guy came in with some little things and threw them into my cage. Wow!!!! They were mice!! Actually, they turned out to be fake, but that was ok with me. When the old guy left, I would throw them all over the cage. Eventually they would fly out of the cage and then the next one and finally they were all outside. So I turned back on the other stuff available. Well, after a couple of weeks the old guy and I played a game. He would throw the mice into the cage and leave. I would throw them out. Then he would come in and throw them back in. Then I would throw them out. Sometimes I would throw them out when he was still there and he would throw them back in again. It was fun. Now, I'm out of the cage and I've manage to throw all the mousies in places where I can't find them. But the old guy is pretty smart. He has tied a mousie to a long string and tied the string to the cage. Now, the old guy and I play mousie everyday. Its fun!!!!!

The Doll House

One day while I was still confined to the cage, the old guy came into the garage, opened the garage door (the one that still worked), and began taking stuff out of the garage. This freaked me out so I immediately went into my kitty litter to lay low. This went on for the whole day. When he was done there was a lot less junk in the garage. The next day he came huffing and puffing into the garage carrying a big box like structure. He didn't look too happy about whatever he was carrying. Then he went out and came back with another box like structure. He did this three times. When he left I was able to study what he had brought in. First off, after he brought these things in, the garage looked just as crowded as it did before he cleaned it out. The stuff he brought in looked like small houses. Later I heard him call them "doll houses". He also said that they were made by his mom and that now he's stuck with them.

So, as I have said previously, I've earned the right to stay out of the cage more. So, after he brought these doll houses in, he let me out and then went out of the garage. I checked them out. Interesting. They should be called "cat houses" because each room fits one cat. I know because I tried everyone. Five rooms per house. The other great thing is the stuff in the rooms. One room had a little piece of furniture. It turned out to be a great cat toy. Another room had curtains. I did some remodeling by ripping the curtains to shreads, and then ripping them down and throwing them into the middle of the garage. The curtain room has turned out to be my favorite room. I sleep in it sometimes during the day. It's sooo much better than the expensive cat bed the old guy got me. Although, I must say, it is fun to rip the expensive cat bed to shreads too. I just heard the old guy come in so I've got to run to my room. The other great thing that I forgot to mention is that when I'm in the room, the old guy can't get me. It makes him kind of mad. I love it!!!!

2 steps forward . . . one step back

Today as I was laying on the mat outside my cage and looking for the big orange cat head with the beady eyes, I hearkened back to a more turbulent time . . . about a month ago. Yes, those were the days. On the particular day I was musing about, I recalled that the Old Guy was getting pretty cavalier with me, apparently believing that our relationship had finally turned a corner. What a day indeed. The Old Guy fed me outside of my cage. Once finished eating I started to freak out as I sniffed around the outside of the cage. The Old Guy could see my consternation and reached out to grab me. I latched onto his finger. However, I am an ethical cat and practice "catch and release". So I bit hard (ie. blood was gushing and he was cussing), let him go and ran to a place I had scooped out before. It was a little alcove under some floor to ceiling cabinets he had installed at an earlier time. The alcove was only big enough for me to crawl into and it went back about 18 inches. Just out of reach. It was perfect. Well he huffed, and he puffed and he bitched, but I wouldn't budge. He threw food my way, Tuna (my favorite), you name it. He knows I can't eat when I'm nervous. Then he left me alone, presumably thinking I would just walk out. Ha Ha. Joke was on him. No way was I coming out. Unfortunately, he finally lost patience and out came the dreaded . . . leather gardening glove. He reached in and I really wanted to taste human flesh. Instead all I got was a garden glove sandwich without the meat. He finally got my neck and dragged me out. Where's PETA when you need them? Needless to say, I spent a few days in the clink after that. But as I say, that was last month and now I'm out of the cage all day, left to ponder the big orange cat head with the beady eyes. Oh yeah, remind me to tell you about mousie.

Veni, vidi, hissy

I'm jumping ahead on this one because it happened today. For the past couple of days I've been on my really good behavior. When I'm on the old guy's lap I purr and let him brush and scratch me. When I see him, I meow nicely. When he puts his hands in my cage to pick me up, I let him and don't bite him (too hard) or scratch him (with my claws fully out . . . only half way out). He talks nice to me and I'm getting used to him.

Because of this, he has begun to let me out of my cage to wander the garage. I have a favorite place next to the fridge and freezer. There's a large, kind of furry, garage mat there which I roll on and scratch and lay down on. The old guy has actually begun to let me stay out even when he is not there.

Today there was a lot of commotion. The old guy came in with fences (baby gates) and started to put them up on one of the two door openings to the house. He actually put up 3 gates, above each other, so almost the whole doorway was covered. The bottom gate is kind of an opaque plastic, but you can still see through it. So I walked over to check it out when he was done. The next thing I know there is a giant orange cat head facing me. I mean it was huge with beady eyes. I froze up, puffed up and hissed 10 times in a row. It didn't seem to faze the giant orange cat head with the beady eyes. Then I rowled (not growled, rowled) as loud as I could. Didn't faze the giant cat head with beady eyes though. Then the old guy put a towel over the gate and the giant head with the beady eyes dissappeared.

What the hell was that all about?

Never Let the Old Guy Try to Fix Your Garage Door

I've got a lot of stories which happened before this one which I will go into later. But I wanted to tell about this one because it was so interesting.

There are these three things in the garage which Phil (the old guy) calls garage doors. Well, they're not like any garage doors I've ever seen before. These roll up on a roller outside of the garage and make horrible noises. Anyway, since I've lived here the noise in one of them has gotten progressively louder, with a couple of crashing noises thrown in. Last week Phil kept opening and closing the loud one. It would start with a "crash" "crash" "rumble rumble rumble" "crash" and then stop. Pretty much the same thing in reverse when he closed it. I watched him push a button, "crash, crash, rumble, bumble, rumble, crash, silence". Then Phil would say a bad word. Finally, after opening and closing it a lot of times, and running over to look at it closely, Phil got some tools out of the tool box . . . including a hammer. Then he would go back over, push the button, run to the garage door and as it opened he would hit parts of it with a hammer. He did this numerous times. After the numerous times, he would run the door and watch it. " Crash, crash, rumble, rumble, rumble, crash, silence" bad word. After trying this a few times he got out some kind of metal cutter and big pliers and hacked away at the door for a while. He tried the door, then hacked away. He'd try it again and hack away again. Finally, he did a real lot of hacking. The door was open . . . He pushed the button . . . the door started to close . . . the motor started to whine . . . the door jamed after closing only about a foot . . . the motor whined louder . . . Phil looked distressed . . . Phil started pushing the button, presumably to stop the door . . . the door whined on louder . . . the door motor groaned . . . then there was this huge crash, smash, crash . . . that seemed to go on for a while. The lights went out and the whole garage door mechanism came out of the wall and crashed to the ground outside the garage. I must tell you, it was pretty frightening. In fact I immediately jumped into the kitty litter and got low.

The next day a man came over and I heard Phil and him talking. He did a lot of measuring and I heard Phil say, "I don't care if we are tearing down the house, I want three new garage doors with openers . . . the doors that I have now suck!".

How (not) to Introduce a New Cat Into The Household

Phil (the old guy) told me he had found some great websites on how to domesticate a feral cat (more on these later) and how to introduce a new cat into a household which already has cats. One of the suggestions to allow the existing cats to get used to the scent of the new cat is to bring in an item with the new cat's scent on it and leave it in an area frequented by the existing cats. Phil bought me a new cat bed and decided to use my old cat bed to introduce my scent to his other cats, Chow Mein ("Chow Mein"? Where did he come up with a name like that?) and Pinot. So he takes my cat bed (I forget whether I had peed in it or not . . . I must have), and puts it up next to the cat bowls of Chow and Pinot. He scoops their favorite wet food into the bowls and sets them on each side of my cat bed. Chow and Pinot ran up to their food, sniffed my cat bed and then they both ran away. Neither one would come and eat until Phil removed my bed. Personally, I can't wait to meet the boys . . . I'm sure it will be an interesting day.

Revenge Is Best Served Ice Cold

After a couple of days, Phil (the old guy), started to get a little cocky. I studied his routine. At about 6:30 a.m. he comes down and takes me out of the cage and brushes and scratches me, which, I must admit, I like. Then he puts soft food in my bowl and puts me back in my cage and takes out the kit lit for a cleaning. Then he leaves. He comes back about an hour later for another brushing in his lap. Same at about 1:00 p.m. Then again a couple of times in the evening (plus more food). On day three I was ready to spring my trap. After the brushing in the morning, Phil decided to give me a personalized tour of the garage . . . holding me in his arms. Not being a "tour" kind of cat, I resisted but I got a tour anyway (from what I have later learned, this is typical of this guy). Anyway, I decided to spring my trap and end the tour early by taking a big, juicy bite out of his hand. Well I aimed for the hand but got a finger . . . and produced plenty of blood. The next thing I knew I was airborne, which was fine with me until I landed in a strange garage. Not having fully thought my plan through, I freaked out, looking for a place to hide while Phil said some not-to-nice things (remember, I'm only 2). Bleeding profusely, Phil apparently decided that catching me was more important than loosing a finger. We played chase around the garage for about a half hour until I made the mistake of holing up in the luggage. Trapped like a rat. Except that I realized I had developed a new power . . . the cat bite, and that Phil was afraid of the cat bite. Curses. He found a leather garden glove, put it on, and reached for me. Pittttttthhhhhhhh. I hate the taste of leather! Nevertheless, I latched onto the glove with my teeth which allowed Phil to pull me out with the other hand, grab me by the nap of the neck, sprint to the cage and throw me in. Was I proud that I drew blood? Hell yes I was proud. I had done my feral Catly duty and resisted to the bitter end. I'm now doing the time for my crime . . . in the cat box . . . with my butt facing the old guy.

Alas poor Busy Kitty, I knew you well

I'm trying to catch up on the updates, but unfortunately the old guy travels alot and I don't know how to use the computer. This is all dictated to the old guy who types it for me.

I'm finally in my new "home". However, it's not a home, it's a cage in a garage. I've been here long enough to have several conversations with the old guy. His name is Phil and he seems nice enough. Anyway, after we got back from the vet, Phil put me in the cage in the garage. He told me I'll only be in the cage until he "tames" me and turns me into a house cat. Bad news for me . . . this could be a long time.

In the cage is a water bowl with water storage, a food dish with two food compartments, my cat bed that was brought down from San Francisco, a box with dirt in it and my Busy Kitty. I finally figured out what the box with dirt was for . . . but it still doubles as a comfortable bed.

My first day in the cage didn't go well. Phil was afraid to touch me because I growled at him. I refused to sleep in my bed. But the food isn't bad. They serve wet food here, and a lot of it, and I love wet food. When Phil left me he turned out the garage lights. I figured it was night which is my favorite time to play. The only play toy in the cage was my Busy Kitty. A Busy Kitty is just a strip of corrugated cardboard to be used as a scratcher. I saw it as a way to express my extreme displeasure. So, over the course of the night i destroyed it. I chewed it, I clawed it, I ripped it, I tore it in two, then four, then eight, then . . . well, I really can't count that high because the pieces were so small. Then I emptied the box with dirt, and threw as much of the Busy Kitts I could find into the box. When I heard Phil coming down the next morning, I jumped in the box and met him with my best cat frown. I don't think he was happy. That day he bought me a new kind of busy kitty made out of rope wound around wood. He says it's indestructable . . . well see about that.

Fingers, and Needles and pills, Oh My!

When you are a cat, in a cage, in a car, you really don't know what is going on. You can't see out. Of course you don't want to see out . . . you want out. So what does it matter.

Anyway, while we are in the car I finally find out what this is all about. I guess the pretty lady, the pretty little girl, and the 4 legged monster were moving away. So the old guy volunteered to take me to his house in Manhattan Beach. Great. I hate the beach!

We drove for a long time. Sometimes a face would present itself at the wire door. I ignored the face and pretended I was somewhere else. After all, I was on cat-strike!

After many hours, the car stopped, the new pretty lady got out, and the old guy started to drive again. Shortly thereafter, we stopped. The old guy got out of the car and picked up the cat carrier, with me in it, and we went into a room with some people. The old guy talked to a lady and then sat down with me next to him, in the cage. Pretty soon, a door opened, the old guy picked up the cage and we went into a small room. He put the cage on a table and then another lady came in. They talked about me. They were using words I had never heard before, and so I didn't know what they meant . . . doctor, rabies, fleas, blood work, disease, worms, blah, blah blah. I thought, "so what does this have to do with me?" Sometimes I think too much.

The next thing I know the wire gate opens, hands with plastic gloves grab me, I'm bundled in a towel, and off I go . . . without the old guy. Well, I had pretty much had enough. So I let whoever was holding me know what kind of work a feral cat can do on exposed skin and thin surgical gloves. The next thing I know, someone is running to get the old guy to come and hold me down with a towel over my head. While he held me down the following occurred: My body was poked and prodded with fingers, I had blood taken, I had two shots given, I had some kind of disgusting chemical rubbed on my neck, I was given two pills by the doctor who didn't have the guts to put her fingers near my mouth. Instead, she used some kind of long, saber toothed looking device to shove the pills down my throat. Wow. And I thought being thrown in a cage and driving for 6 hours was bad. This took things that suck to a new level!

Finally, I was put back in the cat carrier, into the car and the old guy drove me to the place where I still am today. He parked, took the carrier out of the car and into a big dark room with lots of stuff in it. He put the carrier next to a big cage, opened the door, and shook me out. The coward, he didn't even have the guts to try and touch me! In the cage was food, which I vowed to never eat, water, which I vowed to never drink, my cat bed, which I vowed to never again sleep in, my busy kitty, which I vowed to destroy, and last, a box with dirt in it, about which I didn't have a clue. So, I walked into the box with dirt, curled up with a nasty look on my face, and continued my cat-strike!