"Well, now is my chance to show what I have learned. I think this is a lot of fu . . .!"
What are you doing??
"Oh, Miss Patchy, I thought you were asleep."
Well, I was, but you are making a lot of noise!
"I'm sorry (not), but I wanted to show you what I can do."
JUST! STEP! AWAY! FROM! THE KEYBOARD!
"Okay, Miss Patchy, but my time will come."
Just go to sleep.
"But I'm not sleepy."
Just go! Go play with Mousey or something. Chase your tail; you're good at that!
"Ha! Someday, Miss Patchy, someday."
What nerve! There I was, sleeping peacefully here in the office, when Pest started making all that noise. Clicking on the keys, giggling! No matter, she's gone now and I can get down to business.
You know, people often wonder why I am called Apache and why my brother was called Cherokee. I don't think anyone really knows. Maybe they ran out of names at the foster home. Mom thinks it was an omen or something. She said that, when she adopted us back there in Massachusetts, she had no idea that she would ever move to Arizona. She said it never had entered her mind. However, since we had had those names for a few years, she didn't feel it would be right to change them. And she was right, of course. Mom usually is right. Not right as often as I am, since I am never wrong, but usually right.
Names can be handy things. I was surprised to learn some years ago that humans have names. They all look so much alike (with color differences) that I always just sort of lumped them altogether and called them humans. I guess it helps that they have names, because it makes it easier to tell them apart. If I say to someone that there's a human at the door, it doesn't mean a whole lot. But if I say that Bob is at the door, then we know right away just who is at the door - friend, enemy, or stranger. We will run up under the bed anyway, but it's nice to know just who you are avoiding.
I think I mentioned toilets before. They seem like rather strange things, but I guess humans have slightly different needs. None of them would ever fit into our litter box, so the bathroom, with its toilet, is good for them. Cherokee was always totally fascinated by the toilet. He would drink out of it, too, but his interest went much further. He couldn't get enough of watching it flush. He told me that he loved to watch it swirl around and disappear. Then suddenly, it would come back again, but without the stuff in it. He tried so hard to understand what was happening and how it worked. Mom actually tried to get us to use the toilet instead of the litter box. What a hoot! At first, there was this plastic hanging from the seat and there was a little bit of litter in it. That was okay, and we did use it. Then, one day Mom removed the plastic and the litter and that wasn't okay. I didn't like hanging over that water and neither did Cherokee. We left her a message in the bathroom sink that we didn't like it and she never tried it again. Hooray for the litter box!
Now the bathtub is something else. It would appear to be something totally useless, but Mom persists in filling it with water every now and then and sitting in it. Ugh! I just don't understand that mindset. It did cause us some amusement, though. Mom would always remove her fur, or I mean her clothes, before she would get into all that hot water. How funny! Kind of a little embarrassing, too. Cherokee and I would really get a kick out of seeing her that way. Humans are so funny looking. Laughter is really very good for people of all kinds. Being incredibly curious, Cherokee tried to figure out what she was doing in the tub and managed to fall in once. ONCE! He didn't try that again, unlike some other people I know.
Did I ever mention human food? Some of it is really great, like beef, chicken, turkey, lamb, even pork. I don't understand why Mom eats all that other stuff, though. Eggs I can see, even cheese sometimes, but corn? Celery? Tomatoes? Bananas? Oranges? Yech!!!! I gag just thinking about those things. About the only other thing I like is a little bit of ice cream. Mom says that sugar is not good for us, so it's only just once in a great while that she gives me a tiny taste of ice cream. I like mint, vanilla, and strawberry ice cream. She says that all the cats she has ever had liked strawberry ice cream. Oh, I forgot about fish! That is delicious, too. Even in a can, like tuna. It's really great when she cooks salmon and gives me a few bites. Yum!!
Mom does give us good, wet food from a can most of the time, along with that dry stuff. I can see why Cherokee started putting some of his in the water dish, because I find that I am now beginning to like it that way myself. It seems to be a lot harder these days. Have they changed the formula? Once in a while, she runs out of canned food and has to use canned tuna. It's not supposed to be very good for us, but Mom says that a rare treat is okay.
Well, I think we are going to watch a movie or TV or something now. It's too bad we don't have a lot of cable channels anymore. Cherokee and I used to love watching Animal Planet with Mom. Sometimes Cherokee would get so excited that he would accidently change the channel by stepping on the remote control. Silly goof! We weren't terribly interested in watching the dog stuff, but there were a lot of cats on TV, too.
I will probably end up sleeping through most of the movie or whatever. I do have some sleeping to catch up on, since Pest disturbed me. Wish me a good nap!
Yours,
Apache
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Just We Two - A New Housemate
I just woke up! What a wonderful nap. Ya-a-a-wn!
In this post I wish to tell you about a very unhappy person. One day, a man came over and he brought in some boxes and took them up to Mom's office. He was up there for a while and they talked quite a bit, then he left. He didn't take the boxes with him. Cherokee and I were, of course, curious as to what the man brought into our house. Mom kept the door shut for a while, but then she let us see later on. For goodness sake! It was an all-black feline. As we got to know her over the following days and weeks, we found that she was an older female who was quite cranky. She had been with the man for some time and she was very angry that suddenly she found herself at our house, with us, torn away from her Daddy. She told us that some of her ancestors were from Siam, and that made her special. We didn't quite see it that way, though.
She was very snooty and bragged about her electric litter box. We found it rather scary and smelly. When Mom would clean out the collection container, there would be litter on the carpet underneath. Also, some of the stuff she left in there got stuck on the mechanisms and had to be specially cleaned off. She came to us without a name (I think she had been called "cat," so Mom meditated on it for a while and realized that her name was Kitta. Not a bad name, if you ask me, but no one did. Kitta didn't care too much for it, but then she didn't care too much for anything, except trying to figure out how to get back to her Daddy.
As I said before, Kitta was elderly, and sometimes she didn't always get everything into the litter box, and the office began to smell. Evidently, she had peed a lot off the side of the box and the carpet was in very bad shape. Mom really didn't know what to do about her. She took Kitta in so that the man would not take her to be euthanized. That's what they would have done because of her age. Probably no one would have adopted her. We felt a little sorry for Kitta, and wanted to get to know her and maybe even cuddle with her, but she was not open to that sort of thing, preferring to stay aloof. Mom moved her down to the guest room, and sometimes would let her out into the rest of the house, but she would just attack us. She was not gentle and used her claws and teeth to their fullest. Eventually, we decided that we didn't like her and didn't want her in our house anymore, but what could we do?
One day, Mom was petting Kitta and trying to get her to be affectionate, but mostly she scratched and bit Mom, too. Well, Mom found a lump in Kitta's side. Into the box and off to the vet she went. As Mom told it, the vet was going to do a biopsy, but in feeling the lump realized that it was a hernia, so Mom said to go ahead and fix it. Expensive! Kitta came home extra-grouchy and wearing what Mom called an Elizabethan collar. How funny! Cherokee and I laughed like crazy when we would see her. She hated the collar, she hated the vet, she hated Mom, she hated us. So much anger in one small, black-furred body!
Some time later, Mom realized that Kitta was missing the litter box most of the time and had thoroughly ruined the carpet in the guest room. Realizing that there was probably something more wrong with Kitta, back to the vet they went. Kitta did not come back. Mom said that the vet felt she was very old and quite sick and that she would probably never be in really good health, having either kidney failure or diabetes. Not long after that, Mom ripped up the carpet in the guest room, with the help of a friend. The concrete slab underneath even smelled bad. She scrubbed it and put all kinds of things on it to make the smell go away. Eventually it did. However, the carpet in the office still gives off an odor sometimes, especially on humid days.
Cherokee and I were not sorry to see Kitta gone. She was just making our lives miserable. I'm sorry that her end had to come in such a way, but we definitely did not miss her. Even Mom felt relief. Finally, we could get back to normal.
I hear a nap calling me now, so I need to go answer it. I'm just exhausted thinking about Kitta. I will take a good nap and wash the thoughts of her right out of my mind.
Yours,
Apache
In this post I wish to tell you about a very unhappy person. One day, a man came over and he brought in some boxes and took them up to Mom's office. He was up there for a while and they talked quite a bit, then he left. He didn't take the boxes with him. Cherokee and I were, of course, curious as to what the man brought into our house. Mom kept the door shut for a while, but then she let us see later on. For goodness sake! It was an all-black feline. As we got to know her over the following days and weeks, we found that she was an older female who was quite cranky. She had been with the man for some time and she was very angry that suddenly she found herself at our house, with us, torn away from her Daddy. She told us that some of her ancestors were from Siam, and that made her special. We didn't quite see it that way, though.
She was very snooty and bragged about her electric litter box. We found it rather scary and smelly. When Mom would clean out the collection container, there would be litter on the carpet underneath. Also, some of the stuff she left in there got stuck on the mechanisms and had to be specially cleaned off. She came to us without a name (I think she had been called "cat," so Mom meditated on it for a while and realized that her name was Kitta. Not a bad name, if you ask me, but no one did. Kitta didn't care too much for it, but then she didn't care too much for anything, except trying to figure out how to get back to her Daddy.
As I said before, Kitta was elderly, and sometimes she didn't always get everything into the litter box, and the office began to smell. Evidently, she had peed a lot off the side of the box and the carpet was in very bad shape. Mom really didn't know what to do about her. She took Kitta in so that the man would not take her to be euthanized. That's what they would have done because of her age. Probably no one would have adopted her. We felt a little sorry for Kitta, and wanted to get to know her and maybe even cuddle with her, but she was not open to that sort of thing, preferring to stay aloof. Mom moved her down to the guest room, and sometimes would let her out into the rest of the house, but she would just attack us. She was not gentle and used her claws and teeth to their fullest. Eventually, we decided that we didn't like her and didn't want her in our house anymore, but what could we do?
One day, Mom was petting Kitta and trying to get her to be affectionate, but mostly she scratched and bit Mom, too. Well, Mom found a lump in Kitta's side. Into the box and off to the vet she went. As Mom told it, the vet was going to do a biopsy, but in feeling the lump realized that it was a hernia, so Mom said to go ahead and fix it. Expensive! Kitta came home extra-grouchy and wearing what Mom called an Elizabethan collar. How funny! Cherokee and I laughed like crazy when we would see her. She hated the collar, she hated the vet, she hated Mom, she hated us. So much anger in one small, black-furred body!
Some time later, Mom realized that Kitta was missing the litter box most of the time and had thoroughly ruined the carpet in the guest room. Realizing that there was probably something more wrong with Kitta, back to the vet they went. Kitta did not come back. Mom said that the vet felt she was very old and quite sick and that she would probably never be in really good health, having either kidney failure or diabetes. Not long after that, Mom ripped up the carpet in the guest room, with the help of a friend. The concrete slab underneath even smelled bad. She scrubbed it and put all kinds of things on it to make the smell go away. Eventually it did. However, the carpet in the office still gives off an odor sometimes, especially on humid days.
Cherokee and I were not sorry to see Kitta gone. She was just making our lives miserable. I'm sorry that her end had to come in such a way, but we definitely did not miss her. Even Mom felt relief. Finally, we could get back to normal.
I hear a nap calling me now, so I need to go answer it. I'm just exhausted thinking about Kitta. I will take a good nap and wash the thoughts of her right out of my mind.
Yours,
Apache
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Just We Two - More Ruminations
I am pretty tired today. As you can tell from previous posts, I have not been sleeping all that well. I try my best, but sometimes it just doesn't happen. Sometimes there are certain disturbances.
I have been thinking about a lot of things. I have had lots of time for that, since I've been awake so much. Take hairballs, for instance. I have them. Cherokee had them (although not nearly as many as I had, since I washed him a lot and his fur was a lot longer than mine). Pest will probably have them, too. Anyway, being a feline, I know exactly what to do with hairballs. Spit them out! Mom really freaked the first time she saw one of my fine hairballs. She thought it was something I should have done in the litter box. When she realized it was composed of fur and just in the shape of my throat, she calmed down a lot.
Mom has hairballs, too. She doesn't seem to realize it, but I can tell. Every now and then she will start to cough and she will be really hacking like crazy, unable to stop. I try to signal her what to do, but she doesn't pay any attention. I look at her and then I look at the floor. I do it several times, but she manages to stop coughing without giving up the hairball. She's probably doing some sort of internal damage to herself, but it's her decision. You can't blame me; I try.
I also have thought a lot about rain. What is the point? It just gets everything wet and makes the air wet, too. Sometimes the rain makes a lot of crashing noises and flashes bright lights. That's a little scary. It's always nice to cuddle up to Mom when that happens, or go under the bed, but Mom is best. At least we haven't had much rain since we moved to Phoenix. I could get to like it here a lot.
Another thing to think about is company. Why do we have to have any? We are just fine without them. They smell different, sometimes they smell very bad. They talk to Mom a lot and she doesn't have time for us when they are here. They also make a loud noise with the doorbell. It hurts my ears, and I always run upstairs and go under the bed. I don't like strangers in the house.
The only company (stranger) that I liked was Mom's grandson. He came to stay for a while during a couple of summers. He liked us and we liked him. He was fun sometimes and would play with Cherokee. I liked to watch. Every now and then he would feed us or give us treats, too. There are some good treats out there! Treats are probably better than geckos. I wouldn't mind if he came back. I also liked it when Mom's daughter visited. She wasn't here nearly as much as Mom's grandson, though.
I like it when Mom brings flowers into the house. Some of them taste very good, but Mom gets upset when the vase tips over and water gets on the table. I think my favorite flowers are baby's breath. They are just yummy, but it's a little hard to get them out of the vase without pulling out the rest of the flowers and tipping over the vase. Life is just imperfect sometimes.
Food! Where does it come from, anyway? Mom says she is going shopping, or going to the store. When she comes back, she has food in bags. Some of it she puts in the refrigerator, like meat, wonderful meat. The rest goes into various cupboards. But what is this "store?" Does she go to this "store" and they just hand her bags of stuff? Would they give me bags of meat? Would I even be able to find a "store?"
Toilet water! Why am I not allowed to drink it? It is cool and tasty. Mom says I get sick after drinking it. I doubt it. Cherokee liked it, too. He always made a big mess with water all over the place. Mom tries to be sure that the toilet lid is closed at all times. Killjoy!
Well, I shall leave you with those thoughts. I feel a nap coming on and must take advantage of it when it happens. I need my beauty sleep!
Yours,
Apache
I have been thinking about a lot of things. I have had lots of time for that, since I've been awake so much. Take hairballs, for instance. I have them. Cherokee had them (although not nearly as many as I had, since I washed him a lot and his fur was a lot longer than mine). Pest will probably have them, too. Anyway, being a feline, I know exactly what to do with hairballs. Spit them out! Mom really freaked the first time she saw one of my fine hairballs. She thought it was something I should have done in the litter box. When she realized it was composed of fur and just in the shape of my throat, she calmed down a lot.
Mom has hairballs, too. She doesn't seem to realize it, but I can tell. Every now and then she will start to cough and she will be really hacking like crazy, unable to stop. I try to signal her what to do, but she doesn't pay any attention. I look at her and then I look at the floor. I do it several times, but she manages to stop coughing without giving up the hairball. She's probably doing some sort of internal damage to herself, but it's her decision. You can't blame me; I try.
I also have thought a lot about rain. What is the point? It just gets everything wet and makes the air wet, too. Sometimes the rain makes a lot of crashing noises and flashes bright lights. That's a little scary. It's always nice to cuddle up to Mom when that happens, or go under the bed, but Mom is best. At least we haven't had much rain since we moved to Phoenix. I could get to like it here a lot.
Another thing to think about is company. Why do we have to have any? We are just fine without them. They smell different, sometimes they smell very bad. They talk to Mom a lot and she doesn't have time for us when they are here. They also make a loud noise with the doorbell. It hurts my ears, and I always run upstairs and go under the bed. I don't like strangers in the house.
The only company (stranger) that I liked was Mom's grandson. He came to stay for a while during a couple of summers. He liked us and we liked him. He was fun sometimes and would play with Cherokee. I liked to watch. Every now and then he would feed us or give us treats, too. There are some good treats out there! Treats are probably better than geckos. I wouldn't mind if he came back. I also liked it when Mom's daughter visited. She wasn't here nearly as much as Mom's grandson, though.
I like it when Mom brings flowers into the house. Some of them taste very good, but Mom gets upset when the vase tips over and water gets on the table. I think my favorite flowers are baby's breath. They are just yummy, but it's a little hard to get them out of the vase without pulling out the rest of the flowers and tipping over the vase. Life is just imperfect sometimes.
Food! Where does it come from, anyway? Mom says she is going shopping, or going to the store. When she comes back, she has food in bags. Some of it she puts in the refrigerator, like meat, wonderful meat. The rest goes into various cupboards. But what is this "store?" Does she go to this "store" and they just hand her bags of stuff? Would they give me bags of meat? Would I even be able to find a "store?"
Toilet water! Why am I not allowed to drink it? It is cool and tasty. Mom says I get sick after drinking it. I doubt it. Cherokee liked it, too. He always made a big mess with water all over the place. Mom tries to be sure that the toilet lid is closed at all times. Killjoy!
Well, I shall leave you with those thoughts. I feel a nap coming on and must take advantage of it when it happens. I need my beauty sleep!
Yours,
Apache
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Just We Two - Ruminations
Well, it's dark outside, and I'm done napping for a while. I had a good rest, thank you.
I've been thinking a lot lately and many ideas have been running around my head. I mentioned fresh bird before, and I would like to expand on that. Catching birds is not necessarily about eating, although if you live in the wild it is. I like to catch them because they make me angry! They are very annoying, especially those buzz birds, or maybe they are big bugs even. Mom says they are called hummingbirds, but I call them buzz birds. When I am outside on the patio, they buzz my head constantly and I just hate that buzzing sound. They are always just beyond my reach, and very fast. I'm pretty fast myself, but they really are fast. Mom says they are not big enough to even be a snack for me, but I don't care. I would just like to stop that buzzing. Other birds, that I haven't even seen, make me crazy, too. One makes sort of a squawking sound. Mom likes it - says it sounds a little like a parrot, and says they are called boat-tailed grackles. I would like to catch them, too. Sometimes I hear those crazy doves all day long. O-o-oh what I would like to do to them to make them stop that constant cooing noise! Mom says they are Inca doves. Finally, there is what Mom calls the mockingbird. A very hateful bird! Sometimes they even sing at night! They sing very loud and sing lots of different songs. They sound really meaty, though! Mom loves them all and tries to get me to see their good sides, but I would catch and eat them all if I could.
Cherokee loved to sit on the window sill behind the cat's claw vines and watch the little buzz birds. He was just fascinated by them and was not particularly interested in catching one. He always left the hunting to me. If I would bring one of the little, icky green things into the house, he was always happy to play with it or its tail, but he just was not into catching anything, only playing. I do love to go out onto the patio and catch things. There are the loud, black bugs that Mom says are called crickets. What fun! Also, one time I caught a grasshopper (at least that's what Mom called it). They hop around all kinds of ways and present a real challenge to my hunting skills. I love it!
One time, Mom let us out onto the patio in the morning, before she left. It was cool and nice out there and it was a great day for exploring. Mom never let us go up on the wall (if she saw us, that is), but I felt it was worth taking a chance on that particular day. I went a long way down the wall and saw into all sorts of houses and patios. I heard Mom calling us to go back into the house, but I just didn't feel like it. Things were much too interesting up on the wall. Later on, when I was done looking around, I went back to our patio, but found the door closed and locked. What a shock! What was I going to do? No food, no water, no comfy bed or chair to lie on. I found a shady place and I lay down on the bricks and just waited for Mom to open the door. Well, she didn't open the door until she got home from wherever it was she went. She was angry to find me out there, because she thought I had come into the house before she called and had been hiding under the bed. She scolded me, and it was quite a while before we were let out again. I don't think she ever let us go out by ourselves again. Sometimes Cherokee would jump up on the wall, but he was too chicken to go anywhere, and Mom would yell at him and he would immediately jump down and go back into the house.
There were a lot of strange cats in the neighborhood. I met some of them on my sojourn that day I went down the wall. They told me that they lived outside in a colony and that I would be welcome to join them. It seemed very tempting at first, but then I remembered the nice, soft furniture that I would lie on and the delicious food that Mom served. I decided that it was best to go home. My wild life had been left behind long before and probably it was best to leave it that way. I had heard that there were some scary things out there - owls, hawks and eagles, and coyotes (I think this is a kind of dog). If I lived outside with the wild cats, there would be a lot of danger, and I didn't think I wanted that. Safety, a soft bed, good food served to me, a brother to play with - what more could I want.
All I can say is: life happens. And much of it did. There are so many changes that we have to face, some of them life-altering. I always try to put on my happy face and move on, even though sometimes it's very, very hard to do.
Mom is going to bed now, so I think I will go with her. It's so soft and warm in the bed with her and it's so nice, especially when Pest leaves us alone. Good night!
Yours,
Apache
I've been thinking a lot lately and many ideas have been running around my head. I mentioned fresh bird before, and I would like to expand on that. Catching birds is not necessarily about eating, although if you live in the wild it is. I like to catch them because they make me angry! They are very annoying, especially those buzz birds, or maybe they are big bugs even. Mom says they are called hummingbirds, but I call them buzz birds. When I am outside on the patio, they buzz my head constantly and I just hate that buzzing sound. They are always just beyond my reach, and very fast. I'm pretty fast myself, but they really are fast. Mom says they are not big enough to even be a snack for me, but I don't care. I would just like to stop that buzzing. Other birds, that I haven't even seen, make me crazy, too. One makes sort of a squawking sound. Mom likes it - says it sounds a little like a parrot, and says they are called boat-tailed grackles. I would like to catch them, too. Sometimes I hear those crazy doves all day long. O-o-oh what I would like to do to them to make them stop that constant cooing noise! Mom says they are Inca doves. Finally, there is what Mom calls the mockingbird. A very hateful bird! Sometimes they even sing at night! They sing very loud and sing lots of different songs. They sound really meaty, though! Mom loves them all and tries to get me to see their good sides, but I would catch and eat them all if I could.
Cherokee loved to sit on the window sill behind the cat's claw vines and watch the little buzz birds. He was just fascinated by them and was not particularly interested in catching one. He always left the hunting to me. If I would bring one of the little, icky green things into the house, he was always happy to play with it or its tail, but he just was not into catching anything, only playing. I do love to go out onto the patio and catch things. There are the loud, black bugs that Mom says are called crickets. What fun! Also, one time I caught a grasshopper (at least that's what Mom called it). They hop around all kinds of ways and present a real challenge to my hunting skills. I love it!
One time, Mom let us out onto the patio in the morning, before she left. It was cool and nice out there and it was a great day for exploring. Mom never let us go up on the wall (if she saw us, that is), but I felt it was worth taking a chance on that particular day. I went a long way down the wall and saw into all sorts of houses and patios. I heard Mom calling us to go back into the house, but I just didn't feel like it. Things were much too interesting up on the wall. Later on, when I was done looking around, I went back to our patio, but found the door closed and locked. What a shock! What was I going to do? No food, no water, no comfy bed or chair to lie on. I found a shady place and I lay down on the bricks and just waited for Mom to open the door. Well, she didn't open the door until she got home from wherever it was she went. She was angry to find me out there, because she thought I had come into the house before she called and had been hiding under the bed. She scolded me, and it was quite a while before we were let out again. I don't think she ever let us go out by ourselves again. Sometimes Cherokee would jump up on the wall, but he was too chicken to go anywhere, and Mom would yell at him and he would immediately jump down and go back into the house.
There were a lot of strange cats in the neighborhood. I met some of them on my sojourn that day I went down the wall. They told me that they lived outside in a colony and that I would be welcome to join them. It seemed very tempting at first, but then I remembered the nice, soft furniture that I would lie on and the delicious food that Mom served. I decided that it was best to go home. My wild life had been left behind long before and probably it was best to leave it that way. I had heard that there were some scary things out there - owls, hawks and eagles, and coyotes (I think this is a kind of dog). If I lived outside with the wild cats, there would be a lot of danger, and I didn't think I wanted that. Safety, a soft bed, good food served to me, a brother to play with - what more could I want.
All I can say is: life happens. And much of it did. There are so many changes that we have to face, some of them life-altering. I always try to put on my happy face and move on, even though sometimes it's very, very hard to do.
Mom is going to bed now, so I think I will go with her. It's so soft and warm in the bed with her and it's so nice, especially when Pest leaves us alone. Good night!
Yours,
Apache
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Just We Two - Did I Say Quiet Life?
Is it time to wake up already? It seems as though I only just lay down for a nap.
In my last post, I said that life was quiet until Mom decided to start giving parties. About a year after the move to the new place, Mom decided that she needed some life in her life, so to speak. She had been meeting people (men) for some time and going out with them. Most of them never got to first base with me, because I didn't care to come out from under the bed where Cherokee and I always went when people came over. She decided that she would give a Post Holiday Blues party in January. She said that many people fall into a sort of depression after the holidays and can be cheered up with a party. Looking around the house, she felt that our furniture had to go. She still had that nasty, big sectional in the little, bitty living room. One day, some men came in a truck and brought in a couch, two end tables, a table and chairs for the dining room, and a couch for the guest room. All the old stuff was put into the garage. The new couch was brown and covered in a material that I don't like the feel of (Mom calls it microfiber). It's good enough for scratching, but I don't like to lie on it. When Mom saw that Cherokee and I were scratching it, she covered it with quilts. Then it was good to lie on. The couch has a long cushion at one end and Mom likes to lie on that to watch TV. We are always happy to help her be comfortable.
We later found out that the couch in the guest room opens up into a bed. Very interesting. However, it was almost always just a couch. The dining room table and chairs were very nice and went well with the hutch she bought when we moved out here. The end tables were okay, I guess. Mom still was not quite satisfied, and a short time later, she brought home a big, new TV. The old one no longer worked and she had brought the little TV down from upstairs. The new one had a flat screen and it was one that Mom could lift by herself. She was still not satisfied, and then the comfy chair entered our lives. This is a chair that Mom can almost lie down in, or sit up in. She calls it a recliner. Again, I don't like the material, but with the quilt on it, it is fine. When Mom sits in the comfy chair, she puts the quilt over her lap and legs, reclines, and then we join her. What a wonderful invention. I thoroughly approve of this kind of chair. We could lie there for hours, the three of us. One more thing was needed to complete the furnishings, though. We had no coffee table. Mom looked for a long time and, finally, she came home with a set of three nesting tables. Each one is pretty small, but they take up very little room, but giving people places to set things on when they are unnested.
Well, we were finally ready for the party. E-mail announcements went out to lots of people and Mom was all excited when the day came. She had a little help preparing, but she was still really tired when it was all over. Anyway, there was lots of great-smelling food (we could smell it even under the bed) and lots of people. Mom said later that someone had counted about 150 people altogether over the duration of the party. She said it was a great success. I don't actually agree with that, but that's my opinion. Once it got pretty late and most of the people were gone, hunger drove Cherokee and me downstairs. People oohed and aawed over me, but I concentrated on trying to get Mom's attention for our supper. Stupid Cherokee saw someone sitting in the comfy chair. Thinking that it was Mom, he jumped right up into a stranger's lap. He wasn't sure what to do when he realized it wasn't Mom, but the stranger began to pet him, so he stayed for a little while. Mom finally got the idea that we needed our supper.
The next day was devoted to cleaning up. What a mess! There wasn't much meat left, mostly vegetables and other inedibles, but Mom had saved us a little bit of good stuff. I was glad the party was over. Now life could settle down again. Mom had other ideas, though. In April, she decided to have another party. It was called Spring Fling. She had the patio and the garage roof ready for people, as well as the inside of the house. This time, all the furniture was out of the garage, and she put the food tables out there. She cooked a lot of good meat for the party, and she saved some for us. Maybe parties aren't all that bad, after all! Again, she said it was a success and decided to have another party in June, but out at the community pool this time. Cherokee and I weren't bothered much by that party, thank goodness, but we also didn't get much to eat from it.
Wow! A lot of parties, but she didn't have another one until the following January, and then another one in April. Right around the time of the April party, Mom started being gone a lot more. She said she got a second job. That meant that she left the house around 7:30 in the morning for her first job, then worked all afternoon and evening at her second job, getting home around 9:30 at night. I didn't like that one bit. That was a very long time to wait for food! Most inconsiderate of her! She kept telling us that we wouldn't have anything to eat if she didn't work the second job, so I guess it was okay. It was still an awful long time between breakfast and supper, though.
Mom didn't have another party until the next April, after she had been working the second job for a year. Again, lots of good meat to eat. I think maybe I could get used to parties, after all. After that party, however, our lives changed once again.
Well, all this thinking about food has made me sleepy so I can dream about fresh bird and other fine foods. Ya-a-a-awn! Later!
Yours,
Apache
In my last post, I said that life was quiet until Mom decided to start giving parties. About a year after the move to the new place, Mom decided that she needed some life in her life, so to speak. She had been meeting people (men) for some time and going out with them. Most of them never got to first base with me, because I didn't care to come out from under the bed where Cherokee and I always went when people came over. She decided that she would give a Post Holiday Blues party in January. She said that many people fall into a sort of depression after the holidays and can be cheered up with a party. Looking around the house, she felt that our furniture had to go. She still had that nasty, big sectional in the little, bitty living room. One day, some men came in a truck and brought in a couch, two end tables, a table and chairs for the dining room, and a couch for the guest room. All the old stuff was put into the garage. The new couch was brown and covered in a material that I don't like the feel of (Mom calls it microfiber). It's good enough for scratching, but I don't like to lie on it. When Mom saw that Cherokee and I were scratching it, she covered it with quilts. Then it was good to lie on. The couch has a long cushion at one end and Mom likes to lie on that to watch TV. We are always happy to help her be comfortable.
We later found out that the couch in the guest room opens up into a bed. Very interesting. However, it was almost always just a couch. The dining room table and chairs were very nice and went well with the hutch she bought when we moved out here. The end tables were okay, I guess. Mom still was not quite satisfied, and a short time later, she brought home a big, new TV. The old one no longer worked and she had brought the little TV down from upstairs. The new one had a flat screen and it was one that Mom could lift by herself. She was still not satisfied, and then the comfy chair entered our lives. This is a chair that Mom can almost lie down in, or sit up in. She calls it a recliner. Again, I don't like the material, but with the quilt on it, it is fine. When Mom sits in the comfy chair, she puts the quilt over her lap and legs, reclines, and then we join her. What a wonderful invention. I thoroughly approve of this kind of chair. We could lie there for hours, the three of us. One more thing was needed to complete the furnishings, though. We had no coffee table. Mom looked for a long time and, finally, she came home with a set of three nesting tables. Each one is pretty small, but they take up very little room, but giving people places to set things on when they are unnested.
Well, we were finally ready for the party. E-mail announcements went out to lots of people and Mom was all excited when the day came. She had a little help preparing, but she was still really tired when it was all over. Anyway, there was lots of great-smelling food (we could smell it even under the bed) and lots of people. Mom said later that someone had counted about 150 people altogether over the duration of the party. She said it was a great success. I don't actually agree with that, but that's my opinion. Once it got pretty late and most of the people were gone, hunger drove Cherokee and me downstairs. People oohed and aawed over me, but I concentrated on trying to get Mom's attention for our supper. Stupid Cherokee saw someone sitting in the comfy chair. Thinking that it was Mom, he jumped right up into a stranger's lap. He wasn't sure what to do when he realized it wasn't Mom, but the stranger began to pet him, so he stayed for a little while. Mom finally got the idea that we needed our supper.
The next day was devoted to cleaning up. What a mess! There wasn't much meat left, mostly vegetables and other inedibles, but Mom had saved us a little bit of good stuff. I was glad the party was over. Now life could settle down again. Mom had other ideas, though. In April, she decided to have another party. It was called Spring Fling. She had the patio and the garage roof ready for people, as well as the inside of the house. This time, all the furniture was out of the garage, and she put the food tables out there. She cooked a lot of good meat for the party, and she saved some for us. Maybe parties aren't all that bad, after all! Again, she said it was a success and decided to have another party in June, but out at the community pool this time. Cherokee and I weren't bothered much by that party, thank goodness, but we also didn't get much to eat from it.
Wow! A lot of parties, but she didn't have another one until the following January, and then another one in April. Right around the time of the April party, Mom started being gone a lot more. She said she got a second job. That meant that she left the house around 7:30 in the morning for her first job, then worked all afternoon and evening at her second job, getting home around 9:30 at night. I didn't like that one bit. That was a very long time to wait for food! Most inconsiderate of her! She kept telling us that we wouldn't have anything to eat if she didn't work the second job, so I guess it was okay. It was still an awful long time between breakfast and supper, though.
Mom didn't have another party until the next April, after she had been working the second job for a year. Again, lots of good meat to eat. I think maybe I could get used to parties, after all. After that party, however, our lives changed once again.
Well, all this thinking about food has made me sleepy so I can dream about fresh bird and other fine foods. Ya-a-a-awn! Later!
Yours,
Apache
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Just We Two - Another Move
Today I have not napped so much. Mom has had some problems to take care of and with all her moving around and talking on the phone, I find that it is difficult to sleep.
I must address our next move at this time. When we came to Phoenix, Mom was renting our house and after a while, Uncle Sam kept needing too much money, so she bought a house. I'm not sure why buying a house would mean she had to pay less to her uncle, but that's what she said. Maybe he felt sorry for us for having to spend more money. Anyway, she bought the house next door to where we were living. When she started putting stuff in boxes, I thought that maybe we were in for another long trip in the car in our boxes. Thank heavens I was wrong (for the first time). She even had a couple of people come to help her with the boxes. They took them out of the house, but didn't bring anything back.
Before many days went by, a couple of men came and started taking out the furniture. Cherokee and I were shut in the guest room in our boxes. It was a frightening experience. We didn't know what was happening or where we were going. As long as it wasn't the vet, though, I guess it was okay. Anyway, finally Mom took our boxes and we thought we were going to the car, but we just walked a little way and into another house. She put us in what turned out to be the guest room in the new house. The futon was all set up again, and the bookcases were there, although there weren't any books in them. She let us out of our boxes and shut the door. We were in the room with our food, water, and litter box, so it wasn't too bad. We could hear the men in the other room, and at one point, we saw them on the patio, handing outdoor furniture over the wall.
While we were shut in the guest room, someone came to visit. It was the woman who had watched over us while Mom was gone a couple of times. She brought someone else with her to meet us. Well, they got to meet me, but it took them quite a while to find Cherokee. Mind you, the closet was closed, so he couldn't go up on the top shelf and hide. They looked under and behind the futon, but he wasn't there. Mom was starting to get a little worried, even though she knew he had to be in that room. At last she looked up on top of one of the bookcases and there he was, lying as flat as he could, so no one could see him from the floor. They laughed about it and wondered how he got up there, as those bookcases are pretty high. I will never tell, though.
It took a while, but finally the new house began to seem like home. The living room was smaller, so the big, sectional couch didn't fit in very well. Also, the coffee table and end table were too large and you could hardly walk between the coffee table and the entertainment center to get to the patio doors. Other than that, I couldn't see much difference between the old house and the new house, except that everything seemed to be turned around. Mom didn't like the closet in the kitchen, so one day she took out the three shelves that were in the closet and replaced them with four shelves. What a lot of noise! Sawing and hammering!
There was not as much sun in the new house, but Cherokee still loved the dining room window, maybe even more, because the new house is where the vines grew over the window when she let them. The vines had a very fitting name - cat's claw! I like that.
Pretty soon, things calmed down and were more or less back to normal. We got our breakfast in the morning before Mom went to work, and we got our supper when she came home. It was a good quiet life for the most part, until Mom decided to start having parties. More on that later. I'm tired now, and must take a nap.
Yours,
Apache
I must address our next move at this time. When we came to Phoenix, Mom was renting our house and after a while, Uncle Sam kept needing too much money, so she bought a house. I'm not sure why buying a house would mean she had to pay less to her uncle, but that's what she said. Maybe he felt sorry for us for having to spend more money. Anyway, she bought the house next door to where we were living. When she started putting stuff in boxes, I thought that maybe we were in for another long trip in the car in our boxes. Thank heavens I was wrong (for the first time). She even had a couple of people come to help her with the boxes. They took them out of the house, but didn't bring anything back.
Before many days went by, a couple of men came and started taking out the furniture. Cherokee and I were shut in the guest room in our boxes. It was a frightening experience. We didn't know what was happening or where we were going. As long as it wasn't the vet, though, I guess it was okay. Anyway, finally Mom took our boxes and we thought we were going to the car, but we just walked a little way and into another house. She put us in what turned out to be the guest room in the new house. The futon was all set up again, and the bookcases were there, although there weren't any books in them. She let us out of our boxes and shut the door. We were in the room with our food, water, and litter box, so it wasn't too bad. We could hear the men in the other room, and at one point, we saw them on the patio, handing outdoor furniture over the wall.
While we were shut in the guest room, someone came to visit. It was the woman who had watched over us while Mom was gone a couple of times. She brought someone else with her to meet us. Well, they got to meet me, but it took them quite a while to find Cherokee. Mind you, the closet was closed, so he couldn't go up on the top shelf and hide. They looked under and behind the futon, but he wasn't there. Mom was starting to get a little worried, even though she knew he had to be in that room. At last she looked up on top of one of the bookcases and there he was, lying as flat as he could, so no one could see him from the floor. They laughed about it and wondered how he got up there, as those bookcases are pretty high. I will never tell, though.
It took a while, but finally the new house began to seem like home. The living room was smaller, so the big, sectional couch didn't fit in very well. Also, the coffee table and end table were too large and you could hardly walk between the coffee table and the entertainment center to get to the patio doors. Other than that, I couldn't see much difference between the old house and the new house, except that everything seemed to be turned around. Mom didn't like the closet in the kitchen, so one day she took out the three shelves that were in the closet and replaced them with four shelves. What a lot of noise! Sawing and hammering!
There was not as much sun in the new house, but Cherokee still loved the dining room window, maybe even more, because the new house is where the vines grew over the window when she let them. The vines had a very fitting name - cat's claw! I like that.
Pretty soon, things calmed down and were more or less back to normal. We got our breakfast in the morning before Mom went to work, and we got our supper when she came home. It was a good quiet life for the most part, until Mom decided to start having parties. More on that later. I'm tired now, and must take a nap.
Yours,
Apache
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Just We Two - Odd Customs
Yawn, yawn, yawn! Nothing like a good stretch after a nap!
I was just thinking today about some odd customs I have noticed. One of the oddest is during the early part of each year (when the days are at their darkest), when Mom talks about her Uncle Sam a lot. I have met some of her relatives like nieces, daughter, grandson, sister, brother, even cousins, but never this Uncle Sam. I didn't know she had one, but she must, and he must be very poor, because she sends him a lot of money each year. We certainly are not rich, and sometimes Mom will wonder aloud where my next meal is coming from. Horrors! I could starve! Well, I haven't yet. Actually, Mom takes very good care of us and we always have good food to eat.
Another odd custom was when Cherokee would put his dry food into the water dish. It turned the water brown and made it most unappetizing looking. Since it was food flavored, I could drink it, but just barely. Mom didn't like it either. She said it stained the dish and she would have to scrub it out. After he would let the food soak in the water for a while, he would take it out with his paws and eat it. Then he would shake his legs and paws to get the water off and would leave water drops all over everything and puddles on the floor. At first Mom thought he was getting his paws wet in the litter box and was incredibly disgusted when she found footprints on the table. Finally she realized that it was from the water dish and not the litter box and felt a lot better about it.
Cherokee also had the custom of looking out of every window and door he could reach, which is to say all of them. We have a very high, yellow, arched window in the stairwell. It is up near the second floor ceiling, with no access whatsoever. It does not open. I know this because Cherokee often would get up on the half-wall at the top of the steps and jump over to the window. It is a very small, narrow place, but he was determined. I'm not sure why, since you can't see out of it because of the pattern and the color. Whatever made him happy! When Mom would see him jump over there, it was all she could do to keep from screaming, she was so afraid for him. She did not scream, though, because she knew it would startle him and maybe make him fall. She is a very good Mom that way, always concerned for our safety.
Mom also has the custom of bringing a tree into the house every year. I find it very odd, but it does smell rather nice, like the outdoors. She sets it up in a container of water and then puts lights and sparkly things on it. I guess it looks nice, and Mom likes it a lot. After it has been up for a while, she puts presents on the white sheet that is under it. Some of the presents are for us. The only presents I really like, though, are the food ones, like tuna and salmon. Um-m-m-m-m! She talks about someone named Santa Claus. Who is this? Another mysterious relative? Supposedly he brings the presents, but I've never seen him, and I have watched. This last year, Mom did not put up a tree. She was afraid that Pest would climb it and ruin things. She was probably right!
Other customs are called holidays. For instance, the tree is put up for the Christmas holiday, and she cooks a prime rib roast. Yum! Yum! When I first came to live with Mom, it took me a while to acquire a taste for beef, but now I think it's pretty darned good. Then there is Easter, when she cooks lamb. O-o-o-o-o-h! I love lamb! Very yummy! She usually boils eggs and colors them, too. The eggs are okay, but I much prefer the lamb. On the holiday called Thanksgiving, she cooks a turkey and I am in seventh heaven! I think bird is my favorite food. One day I was out on the patio, and a bird came within reach. I quickly swiped at it and brought it down onto the bricks of the patio. I was about to bite into a lovely meal of bird, when Mom came out and made me let go. The bird crawled under the grill and by the next day, he was gone. I know, I looked. I guess Mom has never caught and eaten a bird before. If she had, she would realize just how great fresh bird is.
Well, there are probably other customs that I haven't thought of, but talking about all this eating and jumping around has made me very tired. So, for safety's sake, I will go to my bed and nap for a while.
Yours,
Apache
I was just thinking today about some odd customs I have noticed. One of the oddest is during the early part of each year (when the days are at their darkest), when Mom talks about her Uncle Sam a lot. I have met some of her relatives like nieces, daughter, grandson, sister, brother, even cousins, but never this Uncle Sam. I didn't know she had one, but she must, and he must be very poor, because she sends him a lot of money each year. We certainly are not rich, and sometimes Mom will wonder aloud where my next meal is coming from. Horrors! I could starve! Well, I haven't yet. Actually, Mom takes very good care of us and we always have good food to eat.
Another odd custom was when Cherokee would put his dry food into the water dish. It turned the water brown and made it most unappetizing looking. Since it was food flavored, I could drink it, but just barely. Mom didn't like it either. She said it stained the dish and she would have to scrub it out. After he would let the food soak in the water for a while, he would take it out with his paws and eat it. Then he would shake his legs and paws to get the water off and would leave water drops all over everything and puddles on the floor. At first Mom thought he was getting his paws wet in the litter box and was incredibly disgusted when she found footprints on the table. Finally she realized that it was from the water dish and not the litter box and felt a lot better about it.
Cherokee also had the custom of looking out of every window and door he could reach, which is to say all of them. We have a very high, yellow, arched window in the stairwell. It is up near the second floor ceiling, with no access whatsoever. It does not open. I know this because Cherokee often would get up on the half-wall at the top of the steps and jump over to the window. It is a very small, narrow place, but he was determined. I'm not sure why, since you can't see out of it because of the pattern and the color. Whatever made him happy! When Mom would see him jump over there, it was all she could do to keep from screaming, she was so afraid for him. She did not scream, though, because she knew it would startle him and maybe make him fall. She is a very good Mom that way, always concerned for our safety.
Mom also has the custom of bringing a tree into the house every year. I find it very odd, but it does smell rather nice, like the outdoors. She sets it up in a container of water and then puts lights and sparkly things on it. I guess it looks nice, and Mom likes it a lot. After it has been up for a while, she puts presents on the white sheet that is under it. Some of the presents are for us. The only presents I really like, though, are the food ones, like tuna and salmon. Um-m-m-m-m! She talks about someone named Santa Claus. Who is this? Another mysterious relative? Supposedly he brings the presents, but I've never seen him, and I have watched. This last year, Mom did not put up a tree. She was afraid that Pest would climb it and ruin things. She was probably right!
Other customs are called holidays. For instance, the tree is put up for the Christmas holiday, and she cooks a prime rib roast. Yum! Yum! When I first came to live with Mom, it took me a while to acquire a taste for beef, but now I think it's pretty darned good. Then there is Easter, when she cooks lamb. O-o-o-o-o-h! I love lamb! Very yummy! She usually boils eggs and colors them, too. The eggs are okay, but I much prefer the lamb. On the holiday called Thanksgiving, she cooks a turkey and I am in seventh heaven! I think bird is my favorite food. One day I was out on the patio, and a bird came within reach. I quickly swiped at it and brought it down onto the bricks of the patio. I was about to bite into a lovely meal of bird, when Mom came out and made me let go. The bird crawled under the grill and by the next day, he was gone. I know, I looked. I guess Mom has never caught and eaten a bird before. If she had, she would realize just how great fresh bird is.
Well, there are probably other customs that I haven't thought of, but talking about all this eating and jumping around has made me very tired. So, for safety's sake, I will go to my bed and nap for a while.
Yours,
Apache
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)