Sometime in May

Where oh Where are all of the humans that are supposed to be taking care of this blog.  I am telling you, if I ever hear the words I am too busy again, I am just going to go climb that tree outside.  I have been performing wonderful feats and these humans aren't even noticing.  I think I am espiecally clever when I try to chase the birds up the tree.  I do not appreciate the laughter as I fly to the ground unsuccessful in my angry bird catching attempts.  And this thing called grass that I have discovered.  I love playing hide and seek with the humans, I am just so sly, then these big noisy machines came along and my wonderful hiding place was exposed.  If I crouch real low, I can still hide, I can see them, but I don't think they can see me. 

Those people that go into that place next door have finally chased me off, they are no where near as fun as the florist shop was.  I miss sneaking in their door and climbing their trees when they had all kinds of fun stuff hanging off of them that I could bat at.  And those tasty things that humans call flowers, they were good, but my human put some of those colorful things in my hiding area, now I can eat them and hide in them!!

My favortie spots to nap in! On Sundays, I spend most of my days baby sitting, geez, there just aren't enough treats in the world for this job!

When the humans are here they seem to spend alot of time looking at a metal box with pictures so if I want to be close to them, I use this cool contraption that turns and they can move me around in it. Loads of fun, no treats here though.

Always a Kitten - by Billy Joel

Finally, my themesong...

Always a Kitten to Me
- by Billy Joel (sort of)

She's queen of the store, and she rules all the dogs
She'll grab at your feet if you dare to wear clogs.
She'll trip up your steps, then yell like you're mean
She'll pounce on your head, but she's always a kitten to me

She can beg for attention, then take it or leave it
She'll make you throws balls, but will never retrieve it
And she'll take whats forbidden and do it with glee
Yeah, She steals like a thief, but she's always a kitten to me


CHORUS Ohhh... she takes care of herself
She can nap if she wants, which is most of the time
Ohhh... and she never gives up
And she never gives in, she just changes her mind

And she'll rub and she'll purr when it's time for her feeding
Then she'll carelessly claw you and laugh while you're bleeding
Then she'll steal all the dogfood, and drink your Pepsi
Just cover your glass 'cause she's always a kitten to me


CHORUS

She's frequently kind and she's suddenly cruel
She can do as she pleases, she's nobody's fool
And she can't be evicted, she always returns
And the most she will do is claw furrows in you,
But she's always a kitten to me

New Years Resolutions

It's a new year and time for new resolutions. That means it is time to make some resolutions that I may or may not stick to. I'll admit, my record on previous resolutions has been, at best, spotty. But, I am willing to give it another go. Last years resolution of pouncing on even more people from unexpected perches was a stunning success. The shelves way high up on the walls were a perfect launching spot as was the top of the white metal pattern stand...Have you ever noticed that primates never look up?  Anyway,  I evoked some awe-inspiring screams, several very colorful curse words, and even a bit of blood-letting... sorry, Melinda. Nothing personal. I've got it all recorded on my iPod nano for when I need a good chortle, or for a possible U-Tube submission.

The problem is that this year we moved to a new location, and my previous resolution of bringing home record numbers of dead birds and mice and dropping them onto my human's vegetarian pizza now has to be scrapped. This site doesn't have a pizza parlor that attracts mice to the dumpster. Nor, can I count on any decent birds sauntering by. The only birds I hear these days are those ghastly Grackles. Yeck. Those things have beady little eyes, big ugly tails, and all the lilting sounds of sharpened claws on a chalkboard.  They even look diseased. And have you seen the mess they make on the pavement below the trees? Ewww. Give me a tasty little titmouse anyday.

I thought about trying to compete for a Guiness record of puking up furrballs. But, I refuse to advocate that binge and purge behavior among young female kittens. I have to remember that I am a role model for thousands of aspiring feline models everywhere. Besides, I think some Irish pub guy already has the record.

I am already in shape, so I don't have to resolve to lose weight. And, I've already perfected my wide-eyed "who me? I'm just a little innocent kitty" face, learned from the master, Antonio Puss in Boots. Meeeeeeowwwwww!

I couldn't have possibly have knocked over your soda. Really, ask the baby.  I was framed.

I decided my resolution needs to be to add a bit of romance to my life this year.  Sure, I've had some brief interludes with that strapping hunk who hangs out behind the store...I'll call him "Tom". But, that was just a physical thing. I could never love someone who was utterly un-worldly.  He didn't even know you can drink Pepsi right out of glass with ice cubes. And his table manners....phew. Nuff said.

So, I am going to register at one of those dating sites, like eFurrmony, FeelinFriskies.com, Purrfect Match or InHeat.com. SwingingSingles.net sounds positively simian, but CougarWomen.net, with their special scratch and sniff section sounds intriguing. I haven't decided yet. But, I am willing to take suggestions. I still have to fill out my questionnaire and write a brief bio on myself.

Stay tuned.

The Federated Union of Rodent-hating Retailers of Yarn (FURRY)

I call this meeting to order

So, the dog with the Yorkshire brogue and I started a labor union for the advancement of the issues of four-legged workers in Yarn Stores. I am, of course, the President, so I comprise a two-thirds majority by myself.

Now, some might say that we, the fur-legged associates at Yarn Heaven have it pretty good. True, we each have multiple beds of handdyed, handknit wool/silk sweaters that our human accidently threw in the dryer and shrank to a perfect cat-size bed shape. Also true that we get special treats starting the day and ending it, and that we have entire trunks full of toys to play with. And yes, it is true that various customers (who shall be nameless, but who know they are guilty), sometimes sneak treats to us surrepticiously while making hot tea. We do get petted quite a bit more than we would like, and spend most of the day sleeping (when we aren't pouncing on people). (Alright, I admit, that is me, not the dog who does that). But still, we demand our other rights to be heard by managment.

Our list of demands are as follows:
1. A DVD player to watch select movies (ie. Puss in Boots)
2. More  treats (especially the salmon ones with Puss in Boots on the bag)
3. A free drug intervention program (for the occasionial Catnip OD).
4. Trapezes on the ceiling
5. Outtings up trees
6. A pay raise (Kitty needs a new pair of boots)
7. A press secretary to work with my personal biographer.
8.Solitary confinement cells for dogs who get above their stations
9. Pepsi fountain (with floating ice cubes)

 and lastly
8. More of those soft squishy Milk Bones (this demand is optional)

If our demands are not met, we will strike. Not with picket signs....but with claws, from out of nowhere, on unsuspecting victims. (In other words, business as usual)

So Long, Country Florist. Hello Cute Doctor

I've been ruminating over my mixed feelings about moving the store. On the one paw, I will miss the Country Florist next door. So many hours I spent playing tag with their employees. (I was always 'it' and once I slipped between the legs of the customers coming in the door, they couldn't catch me unless I wanted them to. I got lots of petting and treats (don't tell Mom), and I heard they wanted to adopt me. (who wouldn't?).

On the other paw, this new store has neighbors as well... new people to impress with my awesomeness. One of the new stores is a doctors office. I adore the nurses, they treat me in the style of which I expect to be accustomed. I am cordial to the doctors. They understand me. It's a huge burden for me to be as perpetually fabulous at all times for my endless fans. The doctors share this concept, even if they don't have all the paparrazi that I do. Their offices would be ideal if there were no sick people there.

On the third paw, this new site has a great glass window that I can look out at night and watch the car headlights and laugh at the traffic. If you are ever stuck in a traffic jam on Hwy 360 (which is basically inevitable), look toward my window. I'll wave at you. (or maybe ignore you..depends on my mood).

On the fourth paw, there are 3 fewer less storage rooms for me to get trapped in. phew. That is a load off my mind. Just because I sneak in the storage rooms between yours legs while you aren't looking, or jump up into the ceiling tiles to explore doesn't mean I want to actually stay in there. They are great places to play in, but totally kibbleless. A cat could get hungry up there.

When I first moved here, my human wouldn't let me out the door. I tried various Shock and Awe techniques until she finally agreed to let me outside (by the way, what does "play on the highway, mean?").
But now, I am wise to her tactics. I only go out when she doesn't want me to. When she wants me to go outside, I dive under the nearest couch. heh heh heh. I could do this for hours.


The new store hopefully will have great places for acrobatics, too.



Angry Birds

Scratch the belly, would you...

Oh, how I love holiday weekends. Not only was the weather purrfectly delightful, but without all those people petting me, I finally managed to beat my own personal best score at Angry Birds. I adore slinging avian projectiles. It just seems natural to do on a video game the same thing as in reality. I must admit, I had already refined my technique long before the game came out, so adjusting to the console was easy.

(I am still waiting for the Wii version with live pluggable Bluejays.)

How I love hurling those black birds and watching them explode. It reminds me of fond dreams I've had during Grackle season. And for once, cats aren't blamed when dead birds are found lying around. It's always been the Evil Swine Empire. I kept trying to tell people, but no one listened.

Remember all those birds dropping out of the sky in Arkansas? Evil Swine.

Bird Flu Epidemic?
Pigs trying to distract the media from Swine Flu.

Cause of the dead sparrow I ralphed up on the welcome matt the other day?
Pigs made me eat it.

See...it explains everything. Gotta watch those swines.

In related news, guess what they are selling at the State Fair this year. Conspiracy? You decide.