Feeling thankful for all I have

This is the perfect week to begin a season of feeling thankful for what we have. As an indoor kitty, I have been sheltered and naive to what could happen to me if I were living on the streets.

In the seven months that Scruffers has lived with us, he has taught me a lot about how other animals have to survive fending for themselves. So here's what I'm thankful for:

• My humans - Craig and Heather
• This warm house with many good snuggle spots (and views of the swans and geese)
• My bowl, which is replenished with tasty food twice a day (sometimes requires a lot of meowing to get it filled)
• My kitty brother Scruffy Gray
• My snuggle bed
• My dingle ball
• Belly rubs
• Catnip
• Tasty tuna treats

(Photo: Scruffy Gray enjoys a moment of catnip-induced euphoria in his new home.)

Trick Pillows

Which one of these pillows would hiss if you laid your head back on it? I think I will skip the experiment since I like my life...

How does time fly so quickly? I, for one, had a great weekend. OK, besides Saturday, when Heather and Craig left (for Point Roberts) at 6:30 in the morning and didn't come home until after 8 p.m. That was a long wait for lunch. And dinner.

Luckily they both got sick so they stayed home on Sunday and since then they have been taking long afternoon naps with me. So, what can I say? I've been enjoying plenty of belly rubs and my new sock.

What? I didn't tell you about my new sock? The eye doc told Heather that Scruffy Gray needed to relax (duh!) and that giving Scruffers Valerian would help him out. So Heather bought a bottle of Valerian root tincture and put a few drops on an old pair of socks and gave us each one. I've been loving it! Who knows if Scruffy has even noticed his sock. And who cares? I have reached a state of blissful relaxation and I am too busy carrying my sock around the house to even notice Mr. Polly Pants.

Coming and Going: everyone but me, that is

Where's the order around here? Kitties like routine. It makes us feel safe and loved.

Craig left Friday morning and hasn't returned and Heather's mom came up for a visit and hasn't left. Heather and her mom have been out and about and we never know when they'll be home. Even Scruffy was gone for a while on Saturday (though I don't envy him 'cause I know he was visiting the vet. Better you than me, Scruffers!)

Sigh. At least I'm still getting my nightly belly rub. It's not coming from Craig, but Heather will do. And I'm still locked out of Scruffer's room, so some things haven't changed.

A Kitty Conversation - a little one-sided if you ask me

That's right, I've been trying to chat with Scruffy Gray through the door. I know he's nervous still and I can't meet him but at least I can try to calm him down.

Last night Craig didn't really go for it. Come on, Craig we're night kitties. So what if I was talking to Scruffy at 1:30 this morning? That's when everything is quiet and we can talk without any interruptions.

What do kitties talk about? Well, I have been trying to convince Scruffers that I just want to play. You know, run around, play chase, bat at him a little playing tag -but not fight. I am a Maine Coon. We don't like to fight. It's not in our genes. I'd rather have a belly rub any day!

And I've been trying to get Scruffy to tell me his story. You know, how he became a homeless kitty and how he learned to survive on the streets. So far he's been mum. Hopefully I'll be able to get it out of him. I can't imagine living outside and fending for myself. I mean, I've never been out there without a freakin' leash on and I've never had a meal that Heather or Craig didn't prepare for me. I wouldn't stand a chance alone. And really, how could I live without my early morning belly rubs or my snuggle bed?

My - He's so Big!

Everywhere I go all I hear is "My! Look how big he is!", "Wow, he's sure grown!" or "He's bigger than my dog!" Well, that's because you own a rat and not a dog, lady.

But, quite frankly, all this talk about my size is getting a little tiring. So what? I've grown. I'm no longer the 8 week old kitten I was when Heather brought me home. I'm a 12-pound eleven month old cat. And, I must add, I am part Maine Coon. Do you know how big I could still get?

And what if every time I saw you I commented on your size? That's what I thought. So let's can the size comments and talk about what a wonderful, brilliant kitty I am instead.

Oh, and Craig - no more comments on my "belly drop", capisce? I'd rather you talk about giving me more 4 a.m. belly rubs, hint, hint...

(Photo: Giuseppe Gattino at 3 months of age.)

Sunday in the Sun

I am the guard kitty, reporting for duty. My first afternoon job is to patrol the house. I must make sure Heather and Craig are safe here. I walk across the deck slowly, looking for signs of danger (and snacks!). I can smell Scruffy Gray's scent from his visit here. Must continue my search. The coast is clear. Time to move on to the front yard - see what danger lurks there.


(Note: Please do your best to ignore the leash.)





I am a lion, out on a hunt. The sun shining on my back, the breeze carrying scents of possible prey. I crouch down in the grass, hiding so my prey will not see me. Must walk as low to the ground as possible. Slinking along the tall grass, tail flickering in anticipation, searching for my dinner.

I sniff the breeze for signs of birds and insects and potential BBQs. Sigh, nothing. I slowly walk across the grass, feeling the clovers tickle my belly. I crouch and LEAP! Darn! Missed the honey bee again! But wait - is that a grasshopper hiding in the grass? I will find him...

Aah, yesterday was a little piece of heaven! I played outside for 4 hours! Four! It's the most I've ever been outside. Sunny, 60 degrees, what more could I ask for (besides a month straight of that perfect weather)? Ohh, I know, a belly rub and lunch! (Was that supposed to be a rhetorical question?)