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.

I Have Returned

My dearest fans, my press agent mentioned that many of you have been positively frothing to hear about my latest adventures. Unfortunately, I had been rendered temporarily speechless as my personal biographer had the nerve to go on vacation, leaving entire chapters of my life unwritten while leaving all of us to the triple digit temperatures. The nerve! It's not that I can't write my own stories. It's just that typing on that laptop ruins my perfect manicure (and sometimes my claws accidently impale the keys. I hate it when that happens...Not because my human has to replace the laptop keyboard, but have you ever tried to get plastic keys off your claws?)


Showing the customers to my favorite yarns.



 

Counter Culture

How much is that Kitty in the Window?

One of my favorite places to hang is in the jewelry case up front. It has a mirror on the back that I can check my hair in and lots of glittery things that I can swat off the shelf and watch fall with a very satisfying crash. The roof is glass, so I can stare up at the customers and pretend to swat at anything they put on the counter. I've learned to work the sliding door so I don't have to wait for someone to let me out and in and out and in.

The only problem with hanging out inside the counter is that people keep thinking that I am for sale. Honey, let me tell you.... I can be bought, but I am NOT cheap! I definitely have diamond tastes. Just
call me a material girl.

A couple of things I learned while hiding in the case..
1. some of you need to shave your legs
2. this is a great place to practice my Mime-in-a-box routine
3. some of ya'll have great painted toenails. Did you get those
across the street? I was thinking of having mine done. What do
they charge for 20 rhinestone pedi's?
4. Mom missed a couple places vacuuming this week

Time for a Kit Kat Break



Packing my knitting in my new, cool Nantucket bag. It has hidden compartments to smuggle catnip across the country.



After the airconditioner situation, I decided to take matters into my own paws. So while you peons were panting and sweating like primates, I went on a trip to Paradise.

When it comes to vacations, let me tell you the first choice for me is Cat-alina, California. Ah, such a lovely town. You can take a Cat-amaran out to sea and catch your own lunch. Those who don't have claws used rods and reels... terribly inefficient if you ask me. But these human fishermen are always so considerate of me. They don't want me to go hungry, so they bring buckets of sushi for snacking for me. (only they call them minnows).

While on the ship, I decided I needed a Pirate name, so I opted for Cat'n Jack Sparrow-Eater. It has a nice ring, don't you think. Maybe I should trademark it before someone steals the name and makes a movie or something.

The hotel was lovely and cool and the perfect place for a catnap. They had giant flat screens broadcasting 24 hours of MTV (Mirror Television). I do so love staring at myself. What grace, what beauty. I knew I would be in pictures one day.
Unfortunately, one has to come home to reality some time. But, I found out that the white dog with the Highland brogue moved to Oklahoma, and that made me feel much better. Now if I could just get rid of the occasional Chihuahua.

Hot Dog! It's Summer

It's summer again and you know what that means....Flip flop season. Oh, how I love flip flop season, let me count the ways.....10 toes per customer (usually), all bare and just waiting to be pounced on. Smaller, but much easier to catch than mice.

My adopted human thought she was so clever in selling clear clogs so the customers could show off their freshly knitting socks. You don't know how aggravating that is. Little piggies so close, and yet so far away.

This is me helping the Webmistress take pictures for the new shopping cart. Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain

Dog! It's Hot!

So, the other day I was laughing at the dog with the weird Yorkshire accent about her swimming in a pool. I can smell chlorine on her when she comes in, you know. What a sissy! I had barely gotten the third "Ha" out when the air conditioning cut off. Stupid storms....The other night I was so excited because I thought I heard a bunch of rats running around back, but it just turned out to be a bunch of hailstones hitting the roof. What a letdown...


Ahhhh. Cold Pepsi on Ice. A terrible vice I picked up.

Storms make terrible loud noises that interrupt my naps. And now, they broke
the air conditioning. Normally I don't mind the heat that much. I just pretend I
am in Egypt again, reclining on pillows, while grovelling humans worship me
and place salmon strips in tribute at my feet. Ah, the good old days.

What I cannot tolerate, however, is the smug smile on that chlorine-scented
ratty little showoff. You know it was Mark Spitz who won those swimming
medals, not Mark Yorkie.

So, next time you are in the store buying something so my human servant can fix the air conditioning, feel free to throw yourself prostrate at my feet (or bow deeply, if your back is acting up). Only, wait til the dog is watching first. That'll get that smug smile off her face.

Oh, and you can bring salmon strips if you wish. I might deign to nibble on them.

Her Glorificus is in.