Lazy Saturday

No Words Necessary

Move it or Lose it

Since I got out of school, I've been slowly cleaning the house and finishing up holiday preparations for our upcoming guests (our house happens to be in the middle of my sister and my parents so everyone is meeting up here for the holidays). Meanwhile, Bella took over my spot on the couch and actually had the audacity to give me dirty looks when I picked her up!!!

I'm a Kitty Cat and I Meow, Meow, Meow

Funny

Gotcha!

Thomas

A Little Maru

Annabelle

Two Fuzzies

Samantha

Thomas

You thought I was kidding?

I happened to be in the kitchen while Tim was eating lunch the other day. Lately the cats seem to target his meals much more than mine. I attribute this to the training I received from the Dog Whisper marathon a few weeks ago. That's right folks, Cesar taught me to claim my space. Tim, however, has not fully mastered this technique. This is what I observed:

She's a Pistol

We undertook something quite courageous this weekend. After the eye-incident last month, Tim and I decided that clipping Sam's claws couldn't be put off any longer. She had left the smallest little scratch on the crease of my eyelid and, needless to say, it was rather scary to think about what would have happened if she had cut just few centimeters lower.

First a little background knowledge is needed. When we got her, we took Sam to the vet for a routine check-up and asked them to go ahead and clip her claws while she was there. We picked her up later that day and were informed that she had been labeled 'feisty' on her chart... and that they were not able to clip her claws. At the time we thought, "Are you kidding? This sweet little lap cat?!" Since she was so little and she took to her scratching post so well, we didn't really worry about it much and figured the claws would help her defend herself against the dynamic duo, who have a habit of tag-teaming other cats.

Tim and I are pretty experienced as far as clipping claws goes. Sebastian was always clipped about once a month. Mainly this was because he was such a big guy that we thought he could seriously hurt Thomas or Annabelle if he got them pinned down (Thomas and Annabelle were declawed by their previous owner. Declawing is something that Tim and I don't agree with but, in their case, we didn't really have a choice). While Sebastian wasn't exactly thrilled when clipping time came around, he was easily manageable and would mostly just wait for us to finish.

That's not the case with Sam, however. The vet was right; she's a feisty little girl.

Tim's job was to hold her and my job was to do the clipping. In addition to our usual tool, the nail clippers, we added some new weapons to our arsenal: a sweatshirt and clean gardening gloves. Tim put the sweatshirt and gloves on to protect himself from the many pointy objects that protrude from our sweet little lap cat, and then we started the deed.

Sam immediately knew that something was up and turned into a little Tasmanian Devil. She was growling and flipping and moving in ways that I never thought possible. Ultimately we got the job done, but we also got the cold-shoulder afterward.

I'm still amazed that the smallest of all our cats is also the most lethal.

Hunting for Lizards

Thomas & Annabelle on the prowl.

At Home with Annabelle & Thomas

Eye of the Pantha'

Meeting Sam

Samantha came to live with us back in December of 2007. We found her wandering the property at our friend's house. As the story goes, our friend had bought a bunch of plants from a nursery that was going out of business and brought them home on a flatbed trailer. This nursery had a little stray cat that they had been feeding for a while. Unbeknowst to our friend, that little stray cat had climbed on to the trailer and rode all the way across town including a trip over this bridge. Our friend called the nusery and found out that they had no plans for the kitty once it closed. Since our friend has two gigantic dogs, it was clear that she couldn't keep it. From the moment we saw her we knew she'd fit right in at our house. So began the taming of our wild kitty.

Wild Kitty

She came home and adjusted to indoor life pretty easily. At first she stayed in the garage, then she slowly began to roam downstairs, then moved up to the office and finally ended up claiming our room as her territory. Eventually she decided that the bed is a pretty comfy place to be. Now she goes to bed with us and wakes up with us every morning.

Relaxing at Home

It was during one of these cuddle-fests on Monday when things went terribly wrong. She was snuggled up on my tummy while I was reading in bed. She was completely calm and purring when suddenly thunder rumbled from an approaching storm outside (The only way you'd ever know she was a stray is that she is completely terrified of storms. If there is the slightest bit of rain or just a little thunder or lightning, she freaks out and hides). In the moment she heard that thunder, Sam did just that... she freaked out and turned into a ball of claws and hisses as she ran to take cover. Since she was tucked under the blanket, she apparently thought that there was only one direction she could run... that is, directly over my face. It happened so fast that I had no time to react.

The next morning

That's right, my cat gave me a black eye.

Catzilla Strikes

Tim picked up some beloved childhood toys the last time we went to his parent's house. This included his vintage Lego Monorail Transport System from the 1980s. To be honest, it never really stood a chance against Annabelle. She has, well, cat-like reflexes. It was knocked over within seconds and then she proceeded to roll around like a kitten.

"You're mine!"

"What? You didn't want me to attack it?!"

"If I just look cute they won't care."

No catnip was used in the making of these photos.

Meet the Fuzzykins

Annabelle
Also known as Bella-Belly (due to her penchant for laying belly up), Bella Maru (in honor of the mischievous Batz Maru), Bellatrix (after the wizardress in Harry Potter), and Bellapuff (I shouldn't even have to explain - it's all about the fuzz!).


Thomas
Also known as TomCat (his name is Thomas and he's a cat - 'nuff said), Buddy Kitty (because he follows us around like our best buddy), Tom-Bomb (after the stench that comes from his litter box) and Bombas (see the previous explanation).


Samantha
Also known as Sammy-Girl (obviously based on her name and gender), Samantha-Pantha (because she can be ferocious when she wants), Sam-Bone (due to the fact that her rear half kind of looks like she swallowed a ham bone) and Tasmantha (for her vocalizations... think Tasmanian Devil).

Blame Tim

If you come over for dinner and find this.

Our special little guy

One year ago today our world was turned upside down. Sebastian wasn't just our pet, he was a full-fledged member of our family... one that went to bed with us every night and woke up next to us every morning. He lived with us through college, wedding planning, our first years of marriage and the move into our first home. He was our baby. We haven't been quite the same since that day a year ago, but we learned a valuable lesson about life... never take happiness for granted. As time goes by things get easier, I can now look at these pictures (without bursting into tears) and remember all the joy that Sebastian brought into our lives. Now when we battle air conditioners that never seem to work right and cars that won't start, we know that it's just not that big of a deal. One thing is for sure, however, we miss our little guy to pieces!!!

The Pantha

Kitty-lates

Thomas using pilates moves to stregthen his core
while Annabelle is completely oblivious.

Bad Habits are Hard to Break

One of the things that I definitely took for granted while living with my parents and in the college dorms was having all my meals made by someone else. I didn't even realize the work that can go into meal planning and preparation until I had to start doing it all for myself... I now fantasize about having a personal chef!! I'd even consider entering into a plural marriage if it meant that someone else would do all of the cooking (the cleaning would be nice too). As things stand, I cook almost every meal. From time to time, usually when Tim sees that I'm not feeling well or I'm super stressed about something, he cooks dinner. But usually it's either me cooking or a "fend for yourself" kind of night. On those nights that we fend for ourselves, Tim relishes in having meat (something I don't cook). His latest favorite is actually tuna. It's quick, easy & there are many things that he can do with it. He makes a mean tuna casserole-type-thing that he likes a lot. The downside is that he's not the only one who likes it... the cats are especially intrigued by this dish as well. As a result, they have an increased interest in the kitchen in general. It started slowly - at first they'd come running whenever they saw a can - but now it's to the point that anytime you cook anything, they not only come running, but they try to hop up on the counters and sniff around. Keep in mind that these cats never had any interest in "people food" until the past few weeks. Although Tim insists that it's cute, I maintain it's a bad habit and it's annoying. It's not that I don't relish in every bit of attention that our cats give us, it's just that somewhere deep in my esophagus I think I have a hairball building up.

Thomas checking out the cabinet after it was left open.