The Easter Miracle

So much to catch you up on! It's been crazy around here with all the caring for Scruffy Gray. Last week Scruffs went in for his annual (birthday!) exam and started immediately hissing at the vet. The vet (who is really a nice lady and didn't deserve this behavior at all!) offered to sedate Scruffers so they could give him a full exam uninterrupted and end with a spa day of bath, nail clipping and the shaving of his matted back fur.

Heather agreed and left Scruffers at the vet for the day. But later that afternoon the vet called to inform us of a big surprise: Scruffy Gray isn't a boy kitty, he's really a she! No wonder she's been in a bad mood most of the time she's lived her - we've been calling her by the wrong gender!

But then Scruffers came home and she was scared and hid for a day and a half. And when she walked her right front paw buckled under like she was missing a bone in her front leg. (It was very reminiscent of when Harry Potter had his bones removed from his arm by accident). Heather had to call the vet repeatedly over Easter weekend (poor vet!) to give her an update on Scruffy's status.

First the vet thought Scruffy suffered a stroke. But Sunday night (Easter) Scruffy remarkably returned to her normal self, as if she rose from the dead. But then Heather fed her another pain killer (for the arthritis pain in her back) on Monday and the weird behavior started all over again. Very PTSD-like. She hid for almost two days this time and was scared of everything.

So now we know it's a very rare reaction to the pain medication. Since then, Scruffers has returned to her normal self.

Except that he's a she.

Happy birthday, Scruffy Gray

Happy birthday Scruffy Gray! Now wait one second - Scruffy, don't you know how birthdays work? We're supposed to surprise you, not the other way around.

Do you want to hear Scruffy's big surprise? My brother is really a SISTER! No wonder he/she looks distressed all the time. We refer to her as Mr. Scruffy Gray. And Mr. Robust Snuggles. Yikes! And Craig calls her "my little guy."

Well, no more of that! Luckily, Scruffers is a great unisex name, so it's not a big deal. Not like a certain someone (who shall remain nameless to protect her identity) who named her kitty Candy and then found out it was a boy. And that poor cat was stuck with the name Candy his whole life. So, Scruffy, be thankful on this Good Friday that Heather (oops!!!) didn't name you 'Candy'. Think how distressed you'd feel then!

Breaking News!

OK, that was just to grab your attention. But this is a big deal, so I want everyone to know:

The Kitsap Humane Society is giving their kitty room a big upgrade! The new cattery allows the kitties to socialize and move around more. There's even a new ventilation system to disperse the ammonia aroma.

I just happened to stumble across the upgrade while I was helping Heather do research for work. We were searching for more information on the annual run the shelter puts on in and the news was on the front page of their site. The run, by the way, is on May 21st this year in Bremerton in case you're looking for an excuse to support the animals and get some exercise. Me, I'll just get Scruffy to chase me around the house!

(Photo: Mungo eagerly awaits your visit to the shelter.)

Read more: http://www.kitsapsun.com/news/2011/jan/26/cats-get-new-quarters-at-the-kitsap-humane/#ixzz1CGiRUWKn

Lending a helping hand - or paw, in this case!

Normally Scruffy Gray sleeps right through the afternoon, but for some reason, he decided to wake up and help with the grocery shopping today. Here he is inspecting the bags' contents to make sure Heather purchased quality goods.

We're such good little helpers!

Happy New Year!

Happy new year, humans! Now it's time to stop celebrating and get back to the routine.

Hope you made those new year's resolutions. Oh, you didn't? I can offer you a few...

• Love your kitties
• Make sure you stock your kitties toys with all new catnip
• Play with your kitties

Happy new year from Giuseppe and Scruffy!

Time to Recharge!

The holidays get pretty tiring with all the food and wine and family visits. Sometimes a kitty needs to remind his humans that it's time to take it easy.

"Hey, you. You're not going anywhere right now. Just lie here and relax."

Here's to a little R'n'R during the holidays!

Don't Forget About the Animals, Santa!

What do all good kitties do on Christmas eve? They sit tight in their little snuggle beds and wait for Santa, of course! We make sure we've written our letters to Santa making our Christmas requests and then we sit and wait.

What did you ask? What do kitties wish for on Christmas? I don't know about other kitties, but Scruffy and I, we talked it over in advance. And we asked Santa to give all the homeless animals a good family.

Scruffy purred when he heard what our human, Craig Romano, did. Oh, you didn't hear? Craig put up on his Hike of the Week site a hike at the N.O.A.H. Center. He's trying to do his part to alert humans how many animals need a home. We were only a little disappointed that he featured a dog, but we're trying to take the high road. No 3 a.m. belly rub from you, mister! OK, we're mostly trying to take the high road. Come on, we're not purr-fect either!

And Santa, if you're reading this, we could use a little more catnip!

Merry Christmas to all the animals!

Would you like me to inspect that for you?

Aah, the first eating fest has ended. Or the second if you count Halloween. Thanksgiving is over and now it's time to burn those calories (and a whole in the wallet) by shopping for Christmas presents!

What do kitties want for Christmas? Well, I, for one, like to play with cardboard boxes and wrapping paper and catnip. And, Scruffy, well he'd like to play with those things too but he's too arthritic to jump into boxes, so he'll just take extra catnip. On the floor where he can reach it.

Excuse me, I've got to see what arrived in the mail today. I am the package inspector!

(Giuseppe inspects a package to make sure it's safe.)

It's November already? How did that happen?

Whoa! How did November get here so quickly? One minute I was watching all the birds play outside and the next minute I'm listening to Heather make plans for Thanksgiving! Thank goodness I'm a kitty and time doesn't mean anything to me.

Here's to the beginning of the holiday season! Don't forget to schedule some extra time to stay home and snuggle with your kitties (OK, and doggies too). We sense how crazy busy the holiday season is and we want you to remember that we need love too. And, most importantly, petting your kitty/doggy helps you relax.

Bring on the holidays! Santa, if you're listening, this year I want all the kitties to find their forever homes.

Notes from under the bed

I thought all was right with the world. Craig had finished his hiking research for his upcoming backpacking guide and he promised to stay home for a little while. Heather had returned home after a week in Portland. And Scruffy and I were getting used to everything being normal again. Breakfast on time, all four of us hanging out in the living room reading the paper together in the morning, evening treats. The routine was just starting to get re-established.


(Above: Giuseppe inspecting Craig's sleeping bag, making sure it was going back to storage for the winter.)

That's when the ambush occurred. I was sitting downstairs, watching as the dreaded kitty carrier was brought into the house and the door was left enticingly open. Come on - it was obviously for Scruffy. I might be docile enough to let Craig and Heather cut my nails, but Scruffy tries to eat them alive. I know they pay the vet team to endure his attitude so they don't have to. So I had nothing to worry about. I was getting ready to watch Heather attempt to lure Scruffy into the carrier.

But then Heather leaned over (to kiss my goodbye, I was sure) and she picked me up and quickly shoved me into the kitty carrier. What??? When did she become quick as lightening? It must have been all that coffee she drank before breakfast. Dang it! And the next thing I knew I was in the back seat of her car being whisked away to the vet! AAAAH!

In case there was any doubt, I was a brave kitty. Contrary to the rumors, I did NOT drool like a St. Bernard and I did not shake with fear the entire time. And I did not wrap my body around Heather's neck in hopes that she'd save me from the vet. Nope. Do not believe a word of it. I will have to have a talk with Scruffy about those nasty rumors he's been spreading....

Everything will go back to normal, I'm sure it will. But for now, until I'm absolutely sure, I will be hiding under the bed. Just in case.

Things to be thankful for

What am I thankful for this fall? For one, I am NOT the kitty wearing this stupid outfit. Rumor has it the kitty also has a smoking jacket he is forced to wear in public. Would someone please call PETA? This is animal abuse. Definitely animal abuse.

And I am also very thankful that Craig finished his last hike for his backpacking book. Now we can see him again! Of course, right now he's holed up in his office working all hours of the day to finish his manuscript. But at least I can wake him up at 3 a.m. for my belly rubs again now that he's home.

And I'm thankful that it's no longer hot, even though it was not ever hot this year. I still am happy not to have to worry about sweating in my long fur coat. I know, I know, you're all grumbling about what a lame summer it was. Well it's time to get over it and enjoy the crisp fall air and the sounds of leaves crunching under your feet!

Creatures of Habit

OK, maybe you didn't understand what went wrong this morning. Every Friday Heather gets up at 5, well, 5:13 to be exact, and feeds us before she leaves for a run. I know she mentioned last night that she was exhausted and not to wake her early, but come on. Do you really think we can change that easily?

By 5:45 we were in a bit of a panic. "Hello? Anybody awake up there? Why is there no breakfast in our bowls?" Scruffy meowed out (he's been taking over in the vocal department) and scratched the mattress (until Heather smacked him pretty good with her pillow). Me - it's my job to jump up on the bed and sniff out what's going on.

And the report - everyone was tired and wanted us to leave them alone. Sorry. Fat chance! Maybe tomorrow we'll mix things up a little....

Scruffy steals my job

That's him. He looks pretty innocent, doesn't he? "Oh, look at me, I'm an old, rescued kitty and I am so sweet." Ha!

It was MY job to wake everyone up every morning. I had the job perfected. I would walk the headboard behind Heather and Craig and jump on and off the bed. Then I would jump onto the windowsill and bat at the venetian shades until Craig finally got so sick of it, he would get up and glare at me. Worked every time!

But now Scruffy has decided that it's HIS job to wake up the house. He walks stealthily into the bedroom, quietly staring at the bed. Then he makes his move, meowing a little, in hopes that Heather will jump right out of bed (fat chance!). When that doesn't work he will pull himself up onto the mattress (he's too old and decrepit to jump up) and walk back and forth over Heather's body and stare in her face.

But I'M kitty number one!!!!! Hello? Doesn't anyone remember me?

Mountains of Stress

My human Craig is under a ton of stress. A mountain of stress, to be more exact. He's in the middle of two books (one manuscript is finished but there are still maps to create). And he HAS to complete his research for the backpacking book ASAP.

Everything seemed to be going pretty well - there have been no more road wash outs and the snow continues to melt in the mountains. But then last night he was supposed to go on another research trip and suddenly the weather forecast turned bad. Thunderstorms and flash floods, not a good forecast for higher elevation hiking.

(Photo: Here I am helping Craig inspect his book collection.)

Scruffy and I realize that he has to get the research done. But in all selfishness, we were excited to have him home today. Stay home and play with us, Craig! We miss you when you're away! No one else (hint: Heather) remembers to give us our favorite treats every night like you do. And no one else gets up at 3 a.m. to rub my belly until I purr.

We have plenty of catnip and wine waiting for you to celebrate the finished manuscripts (plus maps!) We can't wait!

Declaw the guy!

I was browsing on Facebook today and I noticed a post from a local woman who wrote "I'm still sad about my missing cat." So I started reading the comments and the whole situation just about makes me want to go over to her house and wring her husband's neck.

(Caption: Scruffy teaches Giuseppe some tricks of foraging for food in the wild).

Get a load of this: This woman has had two indoor kitties for 11 years (bless her!). They are declawed (take that previous sentiment back!) and recently her husband decided that they should live outside. So at 11 years old, and without claws to defend themselves or climb to safety, the old kitties were ceremoniously thrown out. And now one's missing.

OK, I can understand that some people don't like cats. Heck, I don't like some people! But to live with the cats for many years (I think the couple has been together longer than 11 years) and suddenly decide to get rid of them seems a touch heartless. And then to get rid of them by tossing them outside, like the trash, well I just don't know what to say. What kind of human being has such a lack of regard for life?

Scruffy and I have voted and it was unanimous: declaw the husband and send him packing to live outside. Sheesh. Who would have such a hardened heart? Luckily, not our humans. (Plus, we made our own key to the front door!!!)

Poor lady. What happens when the husband gets sick of their children? Lady, don't declaw them, just in case!

GOOOOAAAAL!

Scruffy Gray won. Fair and square. It was just like a soccer game, long and drawn out with a lot of posturing and scrambling and changing of positions without gaining anything. But finally, it happened: Scruffy Gray 1, Heather 0.

Heather had arranged a visit with the vet - Scruffers needs his nails cut and his back needs to be shaved. Poor guy, he's so arthritic he can't clean the fur on his back. And no matter how much time Heather spends brushing out the mattes, the fur just keeps getting worse. And on top of that Scruffy has been doing his pirate trick again where he lifts one side of his upper lip funny like he's saying "Grrr, matey!" So the pulled tooth site probably needs to be looked at since the pirate look should have ended months ago after the broken tooth was pulled.

So Heather began by pulling the dreaded kitty carrier out of the garage. Scruffers took one look at it and hid behind the couch. Heather moved the couch and Scruffy ran (limped quickly, really) upstairs. But Heather was quick and had already closed the doors to all the rooms upstairs. Scruffy was trapped. "Should be no problem now," Heather thought. Except that the door to her office wasn't really closed all the way and Scruffy snuck in and hid behind a heavy desk.

Well, after a lot of hiding and trying to lure Scruffy out, Scruffs somehow escaped and ran under Heather's bed. Heather slunk in under it and tried to pull him out. And that's when Scruffy hissed at Heather. But she was determined. So she pulled out the green towel to wrap him up and he lunged at her. And scratched her pretty good all over her hand, enough to draw some blood. And then he hid for the rest of the day.

That was Tuesday and Scruffy has yet to sit on her lap again. He'll sit next to her, but doesn't really want Heather to pet him and he won't purr for her. And every time she walks into the garage he runs behind the couch - just in case.

I don't know what his problem is. I sat in the kitty carrier no problem. In fact, I watched almost the entire game from inside the kitty carrier. Pretty good view and I was guaranteed not to be approached by Scruffy. It was probably the safest place in the house for me to watch the fun.

When Craig's away the kitties will play!

Scruffy looking around: Is that really a bag of kitty food on the floor? Wait - is this a trick? How could I be so lucky?

Giuseppe: I hate seafood. I'll just watch.

Let me just check and see where the kibble is...

There's got to be some food in here somewhere! Oh well, I guess since I'm in here I'll just lick the bag...

Be careful what you wish for

What can I say? Perhaps Be careful what you wish for would be a good place to start. I spent the past two months waiting for the weather to get decent. I have been moping like the rest of you in Washington, done with the rain, the gray, the never ending 60-degree days.

Then suddenly the temperature shot up from 60 to 92 last week. Whoa! I said I wanted nice weather, not heat stroke. And for those of you who may not understand: no one in their right mind would purchase A/C in this part of the country. Why waste your money? For what, one week a a year? So last week we suffered. Scruffy Gray hid under the guest bed all day for 3 days in a row and was so stressed from the heat, the frightening overhead fans whirling overtime and the open windows letting in the sounds of barking dogs that he threw up his dinner all three days.

And me? Come on, I'm a long-haired kitty. Half Maine Coon. Do you think for a second that I enjoy baking in my fur? So we suffered.

But there are many positives that have come from the heat wave:

1. Summer's finally here! Believe me, everyone's mood improved.

2. Now I am happy that it's 60 degrees and gray outside today. I could use a little sun break.

3. The garden is finally taking off! And biggest bonus of them all: I got to go outside and play!!!

With the leash on, dang it.

Tuna

Today was supposed to be a special treat day. Scruffy and I needed a treat, not kitty treats, like we get whenever we do something special or look cute, but a REAL treat.

Why? I think Heather realizes how hard this gray weather has been on us too. We might live inside, but us kitties know when it's gray and depressing weather outside too. We see it in the lack of sunny spots to bask in, we sense it in the humans around us. The weather is getting to everyone, no doubt.

But where was I? Treats! So Heather was making herself a little lunch and dropped a bit of tuna on the kitchen floor. It might not have made a sound, but Scruffy can hear a drop of food hit the ground anywhere in a five mile radius, I kid you not. His head whipped around and he stared at Heather, hoping, praying that for the first time since he's lived here that she would allow him a tiny bit of tuna. And she did! She took the dropped piece of tuna over to him (and walked right past me without even noticing) and he almost ate her finger in his rush to devour the tuna.

So Heather decided I was next. She took a big chunk of tuna, stuck it on her finger, and brought it over to me. I sniffed and walked away. So she placed it in a small cup, knowing that I will not, under any circumstances, lower myself to eat out of a human's hand. And I walked back over, sniffed the cup and attempted to bury it. And that's when she got it: I don't like fish! I don't know how many times I have tried to bury the salmon and tuna dinners she places in front of me, but Heather has never understood that I am just not a fish kitty. Finicky, yes. Fishy, no.

Hopefully that means she'll start buying more of those tasty chicken treats instead... Have you figured it out yet, Heather? And maybe roast a fresh chicken and drop a piece or two on the ground... A kitty can hope!

Pretty Please Mother Nature

I can't take any more rain. Please make it go away. That's all I have to say.

Except I think that everyone who lives out here feels the same.

NO MORE RAIN!!!!