Just We Two - Butter Fingers?

I just woke up – a nap not nearly long enough!  Oh well, to work!

I think that Mom’s last hospital stay must have done something to her mind.  She says that she had another hip replacement.  I think I mentioned that before, and wasn’t sure if I have a hip.  I guess Mom has two of them, since she has had two replaced.  I wonder if there are more.  I mean, she has ten fingers and ten toes, why not more than two hips?

Anyway, since Mom came home from the hospital all smelly again, she’s been eating very strange things.  She had a bag with, of all things, buttered fingers in it.  I have never heard of anyone eating fingers before, but I suppose it wouldn’t be all that bad, except that I smelled these so-called “Butter Fingers,” and they don’t smell at all edible.  Something is not quite right here, I think.  I would never think of eating fingers belonging to Mom or Dad, but probably if a human were lying dead on the floor and there was nothing else to eat, I might try to eat the fingers.  However, on examining fingers closely, I have found that there does not appear to be much meat on them – they’re kind of skinny and bony.  Mom claims to love them, though.  The smell they give off is sort of like that chocolate stuff that both Mom and Dad eat.  Would someone cook fingers in butter and cover them with chocolate?  How odd!  They are crunchy, though, so perhaps the bones are cooked to a very tender state.  Hm-m-m-m!  I’ll have to think about this for a while.  I don’t think I would be eating them anytime soon.

Humans do eat a lot of strange things, though.  Mom sometimes makes something called “sloppy joes.”  What?  Just because someone named Joe is not very neat, we are supposed to eat him?  I don’t think it smells like human meat, but rather beef perhaps, but there are so many other smells mixed in that I’m really not sure.  I think Mom said that there are tomatoes or something in it, along with relish and maybe some other yucky things.  It’s something I would never eat, that’s for sure.  Anything that smells that bad will never pass my lips.

Mom also told me that in some places they eat something called “Toad in the Hole.”  I’m not exactly sure what a toad is, but I think I remember something from when I was very small.  It was an ugly little thing that smelled bad, and peed on everything.  Some of our people did eat them when there was nothing else, but I don’t think I ever tasted it.  Some humans seem to have very bad taste in food.  A toad?  In a hole?  What is the hole made of?  Can a hole actually be made of anything?  Doesn’t a hole have to be in something else, and not a thing on its own?  Sometimes I think I will never understand humans.

Mom has also been eating celery with cream cheese.  The cream cheese is okay, but celery?  How many inedible things can humans think of to eat?  Celery is green – I never eat green food.  Celery is full of stringy stuff – I never eat stringy stuff.  As I said, the cream cheese is okay.  I would eat that, and Mom could have the celery.

Another thing humans eat is potatoes.  What’s with potatoes, anyway?  I’ve smelled them and they smell like dirt most of the time.  Humans take off the outsides of the potatoes most of the time, but not always.  They are kind of white inside and they are very crispy sometimes.  I have seen Mom fry them, boil them, bake them, add them to other things, and eat all of them.  Dad likes them, too.  What’s to like?  They don’t have much taste, unlike fish or chicken or beef or turkey or so many other fine foods.  I guess I’ll just stick with meat, since it’s so tasty and makes my tummy happy.

Well, I think it’s nap time again, unless it’s time to eat.  I’ll have to check my system clock and get back to myself on that.

Yours,

Apache

Just We Two - Does Mom Love Miss Patchy More?

Whew!  It’s time to rest a little after jumping for birds and bugs out on the patio.  I love it out there and ask Mom every day to let me go out.  Most of the time it’s either too cold or too hot and she doesn’t want to keep the door open.  Sometimes early in the morning she will let us out, before it gets really hot.  She won’t open the door at all once it gets hot.

Mom loves Miss Patchy more than me.  I know this.  I can hear.  She calls Miss Patchy Pretty Girl or Beautiful Girl.  She calls me Cute Girl or Cutie Girl.  Why does she call me something different?  I want to be Pretty Girl or Beautiful Girl, like Miss Patchy!  Mom knows how I feel, because she says that I lie on the back of the comfy chair and glare at her and Miss Patchy when she is using those names.  What is cute or cutie?  She never uses those names for Miss Patchy, which must mean that she thinks I am not as good or nice.  I know this!

Also, she always calls Miss Patchy Good Girl.  So often, she calls me Bad Girl.  I can tell by her tone of voice that Bad Girl is not a good thing, but Good Girl is.  I laughed last week, when the perfect Miss Patchy was lying on the eating room table.  Mom saw her and called her Bad Girl and told her to get down.  Ha!  Evidently Mom noticed how I felt about these names, and she is actually calling me Good Girl a lot.  It makes me feel so good and makes me want to do the right things.  Now if I could just keep myself from jumping up on the food-room counter.  Mom and Dad hate when I do that, but who can resist?  It smells so good up there and sometimes I find food there.  Most of the time, it’s human food, and nothing that I like at all, but I usually taste it and sometimes I push it over the edge to the floor so I can play with it.  Some human food makes great toys!  Of course, almost anything can be a toy, especially if it is round.

Anyway, Mom has sometimes recently called me Pretty Girl.  I’m really excited that maybe she really means it.  She has noticed that I don’t glare at her and Miss Patchy so much any more.  She has also noticed that I purr again.  She has told me how much she loved it when I was little and would hug her, knead her neck, and purr a lot.  When she started calling me Bad Girl when I did stuff, I stopped doing that to her.  I was angry!  Now that she is treating me a little better, I am purring for her again.  Will I ever hug her again?  I don’t know.  My feelings were very hurt.  Miss Patchy says that I am taking things all wrong.  She says that Mom loves me just as much, just in a different way.  Why should she love me differently from Miss Patchy?  She says that it’s because we are different, but so what!  I love Mom and Dad so much, and I want them to love me just as much as they love Miss Patchy.  Will that ever happen?  Why do I have to work so hard for it?  Miss Patchy says it’s because I am so young and have so much to learn.  She says that being cute is wonderful and that I should be proud of it.  She says that she will never be called cute, because she sleeps most of the time and doesn’t do much playing at all.  She’s just old!  She’s pretty cranky sometimes, too.

These days, any time I do something right (the way Mom wants it done), she (and Dad, too) calls me Good Girl.  It sounds so good to my little ears.  All I want is to hear those names, not Cute Girl or Cutie Girl, or Bad Girl.  Miss Patchy says that Mom and Dad think I look so cute when I play and jump around and that’s why they call me that.  Well, I don’t care!  I don’t want to hear it!  Let Miss Patchy hear it if she will ever get up off her lazy butt and play.  Playing is life!  What else can there possibly be?  Well, there is Pretty Girl and Beautiful Girl, isn’t there.  And Good Girl!  The more I hear those words, the happier I feel and the more love I feel for Mom and Dad.

Well, now that I have ranted about this, I feel a little better.  I guess I should go play some more before I take a nap.  I will play a lot, as long as Mom and Dad don’t call me Cute Girl!

Regards,

Mina

Just We Two - Doors

Wow!  What a great time playing!  I have a rattley ball, and it is just so much fun!  I need to calm down a little now and try to work some things out.

I’ve been pretty busy studying things lately, so I really haven’t had time to put my thoughts onto this blog.  I am very, very curious about doors.  Doors are what let people into and out of rooms.  Rooms are big empty spaces, surrounded by walls, where humans put tables and chairs and other things.  Doorways are empty places in the walls so that people can go in and out of the rooms.  Most doorways have doors that cover them so that, when they are closed, people cannot go in or out.  So far, so good!  I’ve had quite a bit of experience with doors, not all of it good.  I think I mentioned the time when Mom and Dad went away all day, and I was shut in the closet.  I always try to be sure that Mom sees me go into the closet now so that she will leave the door open a little for me, so I can get out when I am ready.  She doesn’t understand why I love to go into the closet, but to me it is a dark and mysterious place, with lots of boxes and nice-smelling things.

There is also the door into the garage.  It is different from the other doors.  It is a little bit ugly and it makes a different sound when it shuts.  It sounds heavy.  It is always exciting to go into the garage to check out all the things that are kept in there.  Mom and Dad used to keep the car in the garage, but the big door that slides up to the ceiling no longer works, so they can’t get the car in or out.  That makes it much better for me, since the car is just a little bit scary.  I don’t mind it at first when the door is closed after I go into the garage, but they always turn out the light, too, and then I get a little afraid and want to go back into the house.  If Mom and Dad are watching TV, they sometimes don’t hear me calling them to come let me back into the house.  Now I always try to let them know that I have gone out into the garage so they know where I am.

There are also the glass doors in the couch room that let me out onto the patio.  They are like windows.  I can see outside, but I can’t get there unless Mom or Dad slides open one of the glass doors and that thing they call a screen.  There are more glass doors in the guest room, but they are almost never open.  It’s funny to be looking out the guest room doors and see Mom or Miss Patchy in the living room, through those glass doors.

Here is what I don’t understand about doors.  When I want to go into the bedroom or the guest room, maybe the bathroom, if the door is just open a little bit, I can lift up my front legs, push on the door, and it opens up and I go into the room.  Sometimes, I find something interesting behind the door, and it closes a little bit, with not quite enough room for me to get out.  So, I lift my front legs, push on the door, and instead of opening, it closes and latches so that I can’t get out.  Why doesn’t pushing on the door work all the time?  Both Mom and Miss Patchy tell me that I’m doing it wrong, that I can’t push the door open from the inside.  But what else can I do?  This will take a lot more study on my part.  I can see that I have a lot to learn yet.  Will I ever be as wise as Miss Patchy?  She sleeps a lot and eats a lot, and I don’t think she can see really well anymore, but she is still smart and wise, but most of the time she won’t share that wisdom with me.

Windows still confuse me, too.  I have been investigating and studying, but I’m still not sure I have all the answers.  Sometimes, when Mom comes home, I will be in the eating room window and I see her on the walkway.  She wiggles her fingers at me and puts her finger to my nose, but I can’t feel it or smell it.  All I can do is see it.  I already learned that a window cannot be used like a door.  I tried, but I can’t get through it, even though I can see stuff on the other side.  Sort of like the glass doors, I guess.

Well, there are some toys waiting for my attention.  I wouldn’t want them to be lonely, so I must go play with them.  I will continue to think about doors and windows, to see if I can figure them out.

Regards,

Mina

Just We Two - More Worries About Mom

Well, neither Mina nor I have written for some time, as you can tell.  I have been incredibly worried about Mom.  For a long time, she had trouble walking, and it hurt her a lot.  She used a stick (she called it a cane) to help her get around.  Sometimes she would cry because it hurt so much.

Well, one morning, before it even got light, she and Dad left the house.  They fed us first, of course.  Dad came back later that night to feed us, but then he went away again and we didn’t see him until morning.  This went on for a few days, just seeing him in the morning and at night, when he came to feed us.  He didn’t even sleep here.  We didn’t see Mom at all.  I was very scared, and so was Mina.  We just couldn’t understand where she was.

Finally, a few days later, Dad brought Mom home.  She had to push a thing called a walker around, but she smiled a lot and said that her hip didn’t hurt any more.  I was glad to hear that, but why did she have to push that thing around?  One day a woman called a nurse (whatever that is) came to the house, and another day, a man that Mom called a Physical Therapist came to the house.  Mom slept on the couch a lot and didn’t get up much, and she kept on pushing that walker thing around.  How weird!  Sometimes she stuck herself in the stomach with a metal claw, and she took some pills.

The next week, the Physical Therapist man came again, twice.  He made Mom do some exercise things, and she started walking with her stick again, and she started going upstairs, too.  We were so glad to have her back home, but she smelled real funny.  Even she noticed it.  One day she said she wasn’t going to take any more pills, because they made her sick.  Another day, she said she wasn’t going to stick herself in the stomach any more, either, because it made her heart pound at night.

On Monday of the next week, Dad took Mom to work.  She took just her cane.  Boy!  Was she tired when she came home!  She slept for a long time after that.  She worked again on Tuesday, but then not again until Thursday.  Actually, that’s her regular schedule.  She was happy to be back at work, but it still made her very tired.  One day, Dad took her to the store.  That made her tired, too.  Well, I guess I can sympathize with that!  Most things make me tired; that’s why I take naps all the time.  Eating is tiring, running up and down the steps is tiring, sometimes even sleeping is tiring.  Mina doesn’t get nearly as tired as I do, but she is so young yet.

But I digress.  Mom started going somewhere else to see the Physical Therapist man, although I guess it was a woman where she went.  Sometimes she was a little sore the next day, but almost every day she did more and more stuff.  Driving herself around was the next step, and then walking to the store.  That really tired her out!

Anyway, Mom says she got a total hip replacement on her left side.  I’m not sure what a hip is, and I’m not sure I have any, but Mom does.  Her hip doesn’t hurt any more, she smiles a lot, and now she walks most of the time without her cane.  She says she is going to sell it when she is sure she no longer needs it.  I will be glad to see it gone, and Mina will, too.  One day in the kitchen, Mina got in the way and the cane accidentally hit her on the head.  Mom felt just terrible and tried to comfort Mina, but she can’t bend over yet, so she couldn’t really reach Mina.  I know that she wouldn’t hurt anyone, especially one of us or Dad.

We are all so happy to have Mom home.  She has started cooking and baking again, although not nearly as much as before, at least not yet.  She says that she will have to make us some more food soon, and maybe it will be fish this time.  There is a sale on whole, frozen fish somewhere, and she says she wants to buy it and cook it with some other stuff for us.  I hope it will be as good as the chicken food she cooks.  Yum!!!

Well, just thinking about eating has made me very tired.  I guess it is time to take a nap.

Yours,

Apache

Just We Two - Holidays

Well, the holidays are over.  At least, that’s what Mom says.  I’m not really sure exactly what a holiday is, but there is usually a lot of good food.  Also, Mom doesn’t have to work on holidays, although she used to.  I have never worked on holidays.  Of course, I have never worked.  At least not that I’m aware of.  Anyway, now Dad has to work on holidays.  Dad finally got a job!  He was very depressed about not having one, although I can’t imagine even wanting one, but he’s human – what can you expect?  He works at some place called Papa John’s and he has to work a lot at night, on weekends and on holidays.  We would rather have him at home on those days.

I am told that Thanksgiving is the name of one holiday.  It is probably my favorite of all of them, because we have turkey to eat.  I love turkey.  It is my favorite bird!  I like chicken a lot, but turkey is even better.  This year Mom saved the dark meat (neither she nor Dad like it) and cooked some other stuff, like livers and things, and mixed in the turkey’s dark meat.  She froze most of it and we ate it for a long time.  It is only just now running out, so Mom had to cook some more food yesterday.  It smelled wonderful in here.

I like Christmas, too.  Mom used to bring a tree into the house for Christmas.  It was a little bit scary, though.  She would hang things on it and it would be really sparkly.  Cherokee and I used to lie down under it, on the white sheet she put there.  I guess it was supposed to look like snow, but who likes snow?  I sure don’t, it’s cold!  Back in Massachusetts, Mom would let us out on the porch on cold, snowy days, and that stuff was just freezing.  After a couple of minutes, we would run back into the house and try to get warm, and lick the water off our paws.  Ugh!  Snow!  I haven’t seen any at this house, even though it is sometimes a little cold.    One time, there were some little white balls piled up out on the patio.  Mom called it hail.  I didn’t like that, either.  It was cold, too.

Anyway, the first year Dad was here, he and Mom had a tree in the house.  Last year and this year, though, they decided not to, because Mom was just too tired to decorate it.  Also, Mom said that trees are very expensive here.  I kind of hope they have one again, because it smells nice and reminds me of the woods where I was born.  Feline mother, where are you now?  They did put up lights outside, but I didn’t see them.  I just heard them talking about the lights.  There were also things around the house, like little candle things on what Mom called a sleigh.  Just before Mom put things away, Mina stole one of the little candle things.  Even I don’t know where it is.  Mom says that we will find it the next time we move.

Another reason I like Christmas is because Santa Claus brings things to us in our stocking.  I have never seen him, but Mom says that he is fat and wears a red suit with white trim.  He is supposed to come down the chimney, but we don’t have one.  Dad says that she shouldn’t talk to us about Santa, because he thinks that it’s wrong to try to make us believe in Santa.  Whatever!  All I care about is what is left in our stocking.  This year, we got two cans of sardines, two cans of tuna, and two pouches of treats.  Um-m-m-m-m!  Treats!  Mina loves them, too, so we always have a little struggle when Dad opens up the pouch.

Mom and Dad stayed up until midnight on what they call New Year’s Eve.  They watched some silly thing on TV where people were yelling and shouting and singing.  Mom and Dad kissed each other and not long after, they went to bed.  Mom cooked corned beef for New Year’s Day, but she wouldn’t give us any, saying that it wasn’t good for us - too much salt and seasoning.  It smelled pretty good, though, and Dad did sneak us a couple of little bits of it. 

Last week was another holiday, for Mom, anyway.  She said that banks and government offices were closed, and some other places, too.  I don’t know what all those places are, except that banks are where we get money from, but she didn’t have to work, so she was able to stay home with us again.  It was Martin Luther King, Jr.’s birthday.  Mom was sorry that he hadn’t been born in March, so that the holidays could be spread out a little.  Now there won’t be another holiday for a long time.  It doesn’t really matter to me, since (as I mentioned before) I don’t work anyway.  The main reason I like some holidays is because of the food.

Well, I’m a little tired and think I should take a nap before supper.  It wouldn’t do to be too tired to eat!

Yours,

Apache