Cats

I was sitting here in the window…watching the goings-on in our yard… and guess what I saw. This fat ol’ robin sitting on our Garden Angel Kitty’s head. He better not leave any robin doo-doo if he knows what’s good for him. (The mom got a new flashy box and she’s been playing with the zoom.)

Bob's work server was very bad yesterday. It kicked him off four times. Bob got so angry he even said some of the words on the bad word list because it got him so mad. I hope it behaves today, because I always get nervous when I hear Bob grumbling because I am always afraid he might be mad at me.

The two cats are fine. They're fine. So don’t worry about them, okay? When I say “I blew it,” I didn’t forget the cats. (And, strictly speaking, I'm not the one who blew it. We'll get to that.) The cats got food. The cats got water. The cats got love. The cats got their litter boxes cleaned. Fine, okay? I gave the cats a front-row seat at a comedy of errors. One of them -- a hyperactive black "teenager" called Sway who says "I love you" by applying teeth and claws to everything in sight -- watched me and my girlfriend, Daphne, from various windows. We might as well have been using that bird-on-a-string toy with him. For hours. Victor Bezrukov"> Victor Bezrukov"> Sway's middle name? Mischief. Much like this young black cat. Photo by Victor Bezrukov function changeWidth(obj) { if(parseInt($(obj).parent().width()) > parseInt($(obj).width())) { $(obj).parent().css({'width':$(obj).width()}); } if(parseInt($(obj).width()) Sway laughed at me. He repeated, "You big dork!" I could see the words in his face. He held that "cat look" -- the look that says, "My brain isn't big enough to comprehend why you're out there and I'm in here, so I'll just look at you." But I knew better. Here are some of the entertaining acts this young ruffian saw me perform: Dial my cell phone many times. Sit for hours in the hot afternoon sun waiting for people to call back. Look for a place to pee outdoors, unobserved, in a big condo complex. Stand watch for Daphne while she took advantage of the spot I found. Scale a wall. Borrow a chair from an agitated British woman so I could scale the wall. Climb over a high railing onto a second-floor deck. Persuade a man with a heavy Israeli accent who I could hardly understand to follow me up the wall and onto the deck. Pay that man about $80 for helping me do something that looked quite illegal. In the end, it was all okay. (And the cats, fine.) Here's what happened. The pitch The assignment came from my old friend Helen. She and I go for long stretches without assembling, but when we need support (drunken catharsis, help moving, long conversations over steak and martinis) we can always count on each other. Last summer, her job was damn near killing her. She proposed a long weekend in Las Vegas with her boyfriend. samantha celera"> samantha celera"> Helen needed a break. Photo by samantha celera function changeWidth(obj) { if(parseInt($(obj).parent().width()) > parseInt($(obj).width())) { $(obj).parent().css({'width':$(obj).width()}); } if(parseInt($(obj).width()) "Can you watch my cats?" Can I watch your cats!? Of course I could watch her cats. The idea excited me. I've assisted others in kitty-sitting, but I'd never taken the lead. This would be "my first command," as it were. ("I bet I could write about this for Catster!" Oh, if I'd only known!) The first two days went fine. I parked my car, I took care of the cats, I left. The cats jon a ross"> jon a ross"> This illustrates the best view anyone might ever get of Moxie. Photo by jon a ross function changeWidth(obj) { if(parseInt($(obj).parent().width()) > parseInt($(obj).width())) { $(obj).parent().css({'width':$(obj).width()}); } if(parseInt($(obj).width()) Helen's second cat is a sweetie named Moxie. She looks to be part Ragdoll and part raccoon. She's older, and she's pretty afraid of people she doesn't know. I was very careful with her and even got to pet her some. The funny thing is (and by "funny" I mean "really not that funny when you think about it"), H

We have to snuggle in - the weather people say there is a big storm heading north from the South Pole. Mum has piled the blankies on the bed. Me - I'm still in love with my bubble blankie. It keeps me happy to snuggle up on it. Hope all the kiwis are warm and snuggly wherever in the country they are.

The king of all cats has gone to the rainbow bridge...the reason we began our blog...the reason we snorted our morning coffee over his adventures...Skeezix will be missed by us at the cozy cottage...our hearts ache for his Food Lady and his Mr. TastyFace, Mao and Tripper...thank you for sharing your journey with us all...because of you we are better cats...fly safe with your pink wings until we meet again...

My heart is broken. My very special friend Skeezix had to go to the Rainbow Bridge. I can hardly believe it. Goodbye Skeezix. I will miss you terribly. But I will hold you safely inside my heart and never, ever forget you. And when it is my turn to go to the Bridge, I will look for you and we will be reunited. Thank you for being my special friend, Skeezix. There will never be another like you.

Ok, guys. Tomorrow is my birthday. I’ll be 12 years old. And I’m not celebrating, not yet. Maybe next week. For one, the Woman is heading to San Francisco today so that she and DKM can drive a van and chase people who are walking for the 3 Day thingy, making them hurry up and get over the next hill. I think it’s mean, but if I understand it correctly, the walker who walks the best and gets over that hill with style get points and candy from them. Plus things like a play-tattoo, cookies, and candy. The Woman swears she’s not going to run anyone over. Not on purpose.But mainly, I don’t feel like celebrating. I feel like crawling into my mancat cave and napping, because having a fun birthday just sounds like no fun at all right not, not really, not when a guy I really dug, a guy who didn’t get as many years here as I have so far, had to go to the Bridge.I like a lot of guys, but there are a few I really love. Skeezix was one of them. And if I loved him, his Food Lady and Mr. Tasty Face must have been 195 kinds of crazy about him, and it hurts me to think about how much they must hurt right now.For a little guy, the Skeezix-sized hole left in the world is pretty freaking huge.Thing is, I’m not 100% sure when I found Skeezix online. I’d been blogging for a while and there still weren’t a whole lot of cat blogs out there, not compared to now; I’m pretty sure I found his best bud Jeter first and followed a link from there…but guys, let me tell you, when I found him it was like I’d found a rock star. That was one handsome man-cat. I have no issue admitting that; anyone who saw a picture of Skeezix and those big, beautiful eyes, the froot bat ears…they had to see the same thing: one seriously good looking feline. I mean, I knew I was stunningly handsome, but there was something about that skinny little dood that was captivating. It was clear early on. Chicks dug him, guys wanted to be like him.While we shared an innate beauty, I realized pretty quick that he had a lot of qualities I didn’t. He didn’t seem to be afraid of much; I hate going outside and avoid it at all costs, but Skeezix liked to go outside and take walks with his people. He went places and met people, and never seemed at all grumpy about it. Me…yeah, take me outside and I’m more than grumpy. I’ll poop on you.He traveled the world; sometimes he sent his flat-self, but that was just like him going, and he shared his adventures with us. I learned about Mother’s Milk from him, and he got to meet my hero, Jackson Galaxy. He met the people behind a lot of the cat bloggers, up close and in person. He was just so out there. In a good way.And dang, he was always willing to learn something new. He was the only one of us to tackle the Spelling Bee, and with Jeter’s coaching he went farther than most could ever dream of. He had such a thirst for learning that he wanted to go to school…but that danged yellow bus would never stop for him.That was the educational system’s loss. Not only would Skeezix have been a star pupil, he would have taught all those sticky people a whole lot.And his muscles! Holy carp, his muscles! No wonder all the womens loved him.I’ve said before, cancer is a bitch. It’s not fair. It takes away so many good people and kitties. There was a part of me that kind of hoped he would beat that bitch into submission, even though I knew that it was just a matter of time. I wanted for him more time, and really, that was selfish. But we can all be selfish in that, because I’m pretty sure we all wanted that for Skeezix.I know where he is; I know he has a big group of his friends at the Bridge who will rally around him and show him the ropes. I know what’s waiting for him and it’s all good. I know that when I go, he’ll be there to give me a couple of head bumps.I know all that, but it’s still hard, because he’s not here, and here is where I want him to be, with the Food Lady and Mr. Tasty Face. Skeezix, my man…I’ll see you on the flipside. And when I get there, I hope you’

Notiss!We Hotties 'n George the Duck have a new post up at the DUK's blog!Visit it here: Wordless Wednesday: Fly Free SkeezixFanks you!purrrrrrrrrrrrrs,Alla the Hotties

We know we haven't blogged in forever, but when someone so important to the blogosphere runs off to the bridge, we knew we just had to dedicate a post to him. Skeezix was a prolific blogger, fashion icon, and great friend to everyone he knew. He left behind a huge hole in all of our hearts that can never be completely filled. Our faces have been leaking all afternoon. Skeezix, have fun at the bridge. Say "hi" to Tiki, Tavi, Miss Jade, and Camie for us. We'll never forget you!

With a little help from my friend.