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.