goshdangdiddlydarnconfounded . . .

well, you gets the idea. autopost, didn't. an' mommer couldn't fix it frum her android at home. so here you haf it; a meower christmas (below).

merry catsmas--frum our howse to yers!

(igmu: why does I allus hafta be the bad guy--first "igor" on meyowlloween, an' now a MOUSE!?!? these dratted red contact lenses hurt!!)

(nitro: the trooth hurts, don't it, "bad guy"??! *hahahaha*)

(ed: well, y'know, black cats haf been associated wif the ebil basement cat fur a long time. but at least yer the mouse KING.)

(igmu:  i AIN"T a mouse! an' i ain't ebil--i'se just high-spirited!)

(nitro: you better not be; you KNOW what i does to mouses!!)

(ed: "high-spirited", yeah, that's a good one. YOU'RE why we don't haf a catsmas tree!!)

(xing:  HEY, you rotten boycats!!! it's CATSMAS, fur ceilin' cat's sake!!! can't you be nice to each ofur ONCE inna while??? [aside: do you wonder that i lif by myself in my own suite? honestly.])

Anyway, Meowy Catsmas, y'all!!

wait! wait! me, too!!!

(*sigh* oh, all right ... )

what? WHAT?  mommer said a nutcracker costume ... she din't specify what costume!

worse yet!!!!

a NEW meniss is come upon us!! beware!!

it has happened here in the armpit of missouri--be vigilant! look around carefully as you as you do your patrols!! maybe they're in YOUR city, too!

we fink it must be because there were so many vishus deers in our fair city last year, the powerful beans sed it was ok to hunt them (hunt the deers, not the powerful beans; although mommer says there are a few bea-- *ow* mommer! whydja swat me????  You don't have to repeat everything you hear, buster.) 


ennyhow, as i was sayin' befur i was so rudely innerupted, we thought there would be lotsa ex-deers around here after that pronouncement. you know--that they'd passed on! they were no more! they had ceased to be! they'd expired and gone to meet their maker! they'd be stiffs! bereft of life, resting  in peace (dona eis requiem)! their metabolic processes would be history! they'd kicked the bucket, shuffled off their mortal coils, rung down the curtain, and joined the bleedin' choir invisibile!! you know--ex-deers!!

but NO!! they are so vishus, so tenashus, so heinously determined to annialate the cat population that they even come. back. from. the. other. side!

kitties, keep yer VDR handy ... we allus knew they would come fur us one day, but at this season of peace an' joy? well, what else could you expect from

GHOST DEERS!!! 

VISHUS DEERS!!! OH, NOES!!!

we posted our cautionary PG-13 catsmas carol yesterday, an' what to our wondering eyeballs appeared in our mornin' noospaper? THIS:  The City of Springfield has been Infiltrated by Vishus Deer!!!

 oh, dear bast!! here they are in our city hall, schmoozin' the human beans!

the he-deer keeps em' off guard wif his ragtime tunes, and then ... 

 you kin bet yer last toenail that the fancy-schmancy she-deer is checkin' out these kids for kitty-hairs!! then when no one is lookin', the VDs will foller 'em home and *GULP*!! 

pretty snazzy fur a cat-eatin' meniss, no? we kin see how beans get fooled.

now we hasta write annover song:

oh, unholy night!!!!

PG-13 Catsmas Carol

we wrote this a few years ago, but fink we could post it again for efurrycat who's wondering how to cope wif the vishus deers that for some reason sandy paws finks are necessary to pull his sled. be sure young kits don't see it unless you approves it, acause the furst part could scare them. for those of you cats who are a little new to the CB, vishus deers were furst identified by skeezix, who works at Mousebreath now wif his food lady. here is a little description.
________________________________________________________________


Up onna housetop, the reindeers pause,
Scratchin’ an’ scrabblin’ wif vishus claws,
Hunting the tender yung joosy cats,
Red-eyed an' wearin' their santa hats.

CHORUS: Oh, no, no! We wouldn't go,
    Oh, no, no! Not wif reindeers, no!
    Up onna housetop oh so slick,
    We ain't gonna fall for no reindeer trick!

Out hops the fat man and down he goes,
Laden wif gifts an’ treats an’ bows,
But the reindeers are plotting something mean:
They’ve got visions of cats dressed as cuisine!

They leap for the chimbly and try to dive
Down to the front room where kitties hide,
Snortin’ an’ stampin’ ‘cause they won’t fit--
Antlers too big--so they hafta quit.

Jumpin’ off the roof, they land on their toes
An’ they tippy-tippy-tippy to a window that glows
Wif the light of the catsmas tree so gay
An’ a glimpse of some sweet li’l cats at play.

Now they tippy-tippy-tippy to the tinseled door
An’ let themselves in, tippy-tippy some more,
Sneakin’ down the hall—just a little clatter—
But the sharp-eared kitties begin to scatter!

Now Santa has flown up the chimbly tall--
He sees no sleigh an’ is just appalled.
The reindeer advance on the kitties small . . .
Oh, noes! It could be the end of ‘em all!

But these cats are smart an' they’re all prepared
(If the deers had known, they'da nefur dared).
Behind all the chairs an’ the sofa wide
The cats just bide their time and hide.

The reindeer come snoopin’ to see what’s what,
An’ the kitties let loose wif some powerful stuff!
The deers make a beeline right out the door--
Soaked with Mao & Rocky’s VDR!

The reindeers fly off wif no backward look
An’ the fat man his mittened fist he shook.
He slides off the roof and looks mighty glum
Then walks to the street an’ sticks out his thumb.

The kitties cry out, “Oh Santa, noes!
“C’mon back in an’ thaw your toes.
“We’ll share our temptations an’ milk wif you,
“We’re good little kitties, you know that’s true.”

So the fat man sits down an’ enjoys a treat
An’ skritches each kitty tumblin’ ofur his feet.
He is warm and so happy he got to stay,
But now it is time to be on his way.

He calls Mrs. Claus for the backup sleigh
(Not pulled by deers but by horsies grey).
As he mounts to the sky, all the kitties hear,
“Happy Catsmas to All—and no deer next year!!!"

anovver catsmas carol ...

 if you wantsta add to yer repertoyer, here's one fer ya:

anovver catsmas carol ...

 if you wantsta add to yer repertoyer, here's one fer ya:

a catsmas carol frum our house to yers!!!

(sung to the tune of "Here We Come A-Wassailing" -- (if ya don't know the "wassailin'" tune, you kin go here an' press the "song title" button wif the sideways triangle onnit. we is sorry it is so small; hope you kin biggify it on yer screen.)

werdless wednesday

i was thirsty--so what?!?

mommer won't drink from any cup or glass left unattended for a while. we can't figger that out--we drink HER germs alla time wif no icky effects. why duz she think OUR germs will kill her???

sleepy sunday

it was a dark an' stormy day ... well, ok, not stormy. but dark; cloudy dark. we all took advantage of it to catch up (!) on our sleeps. rackety-coon was a furry popular nap buddy.

is nitro weird?

black olives. he LOVES black olives. he was layin' on mommer's lap when she opened a little plastic bowl wif black olives left ofur from turkeyday.

he. went. nutz.

he reached up an' grabbed her wrist an' tried to pull it down to his mouf. he stood up wif his front feets on her chest an' tried to stick his face in her mouf. he grabbed fur the bowl. she finely giffed him a little piece that she had sucked alla the salt outta, an' he scarfed it as if it were gooshy food!

he went back to holding her wrist an' inspectin' her (oliveless) fingers. she picked up anofur olive an' he lunged fur it an' batted it outta her hand. (result: nitro - 0, dbd - 1)

mommer ate anofur one, an' gave him anofur li'l tidbit, an' he almost headbonked it outta her hand. when it fell on her shirt, he almost put the bitey on her through the cloth while he snarfed it up. then he loved on her an' rolled in her lap, still grasping fur her hands. it was like he was nipped out!!!

ennycat efur see (or do) this befur??

mommer needs help!

you sees the pretty stars an' snowflakes inna background? well, she maked that follerin' some destructions onna web about making backgrounds specifically fur blogger, but now it don't fit our bloggie an' she wants to make the green background blue anna type white (maybe). kin ennycat or bean bail her extensive @$$ out? we would like to haff our bloggie all holiday-ish!! (an' sometime befur the holidays;-) fanks in advance!!

mommer was S'POSED to haf this ready fur werdless wednesday, but she couldn't figger out how to post an animated gif to blogger. now she's got it an' din't wanna wait til next wednesday. she's furry proud of herself that she learnt how to make a ani-gif; it took her less time to learn the construction of it than it did to learn how to post it. she's a little slow--but i'm proud she chose me as her furst subject, an' that she made me so sexy!!

ok, now read the second line from the top ...

ed is practicing to become an optometrists' helper.

the magician refused!!!

see? it sez so, RIGHT HERE!
dumb boycats. nefur believe a word i say.

vertical cat totem pole

we kep' mommer all warm an' cozy on sunday--

iggy kep' her feets warm,

nitro kep' her lap warm, an'

ed kep' her belleh warm.

(thanks, guys--even thought it WAS 72 degrees out.

i know you meant well ... .)

werdless wednesday

curiouser an' curiouser

anofur edition of "strange bedfellows"--only this time, we ARE all fellows!

(last year, the older boys didn't cuddle with iggy. this year, evidently

they don't mind. he's always the last one on the pile, but they don't shoo him away.)

happy meowloween!

'nuther box

dad went to chicago, an' he brought back THIS box fur me. it's MUCH nicer than the previous one! i kin really stretch out innit, an' there's plenty of room to roll around!

mommer's little helper

i haf been furry valuable to mommer this week--TWICE, already!

(1)  i gotted the furst mousie of the season an' displayed it prominently

inna liffin-room floor so she could see it first thing. 

she was suitably impressed, although more with the prominent display

(so she din't step onnit) than the actual deed. (at least, i fink that's what

EWWWWWWfercrissakes! means.)

(2) i helped her sort out auntie rose's hankie collection, a really big job.

she started sortin' by folded size, then tried sortin' by subjeck matter, 

then by edgin', an' finely jus' plain giffed up.
s'awright wif me; they's comfy no matter WHAT order they's in!

Mommer speaks:  Nitro, I see you're not mentioning the incident where you reached up to whap XingXing while she was sitting on my lap, and you miscalculated, stabbing my hand bad enough that daddy had to bring me ice to kill the pain and keep the swelling down, and where there is now a large bruise.

(3) i was jus doin' my job keepin' her onner toezies. i'm sorry yer hand

gotted inna way, mommer. but really, she needed whappin'.  besides,
ain't you allus tellin' us we needs good "puncturation"?
that WAS a good 'un!

whisker wednesday

i isn't mancatly at all, but My Mama sez i haf furry nice whisker humps AND whiskers,

 so i thought i would show them off today!

toezie tuesday

mommer sez there's snowshoe bunnies in my genes.
i dunno what she's talkin' about. 

i don't even WEAR 'em, much less SHARE 'em!!

mancat monday

ed is mommer's cuddle-mancat.

(but great bast, how he snores!!!)

cold weather makes strange bedfellows

bleeeeeeyaaaaahhh!

free-range crickets are NOT as good as they are played up to be!!

werdless

we sails today!

meyarrr, me hearties! 'tis meself, meow fang,

what greets ye all this day aboard the good ship cat o'nine tails as we meet to form a mighty Flotilla an' sail to high adventure! we does this, as allus, inna names of all those furriends what haff gone befur us t'th'Bridge in this past year, an' we deddycates this moment o' silence to their mem'ries as we names them in our hearts!!

::seabirds call, wind snaps canvas, spars creak, an' waves slosh against the hull::

an' now, if all ye present will do me the kindness o'meetin' wif me in me cabin there to sign the articals as do all good gentlecats o'th'sea, an' please t'furget not to sign 'round the edges o'th'document, that its verity be ne'er questioned, then shall we share a toast o'rumfustian or bumboo or toona joose to our enterprise an' be under way in no time atall. 

inna meantimes, all ye lubbers what be sailin' along of us not as piratecats but as meer turisters an' mayhap haf not been t'sea befur may study the drawin' at left an' get the plan o'the ship fastened in minds, that ye be not losted to us at a critical moment. an' we bid ye not to confuse the "poop deck" wif th' "head", which be the sand-filled orlop deck!

::the lubbers study intently. one by one, the signers regain the deck with varying degrees of cheer, depending on how earnest their toasts were. the emerging crew assume their posts, and the visiting captains depart for their own ships. meow fang speaks::

meYARRRR! ::draws in a hearty breath:: ah, how i loves me th'scent o' catnip inna mornin'!! furriends, we be sailin' t'the north--a far cry from the warm carib an' south sea waters o'the past voyages. in those days, we were sailin' away from our trubbles; this year, i believes we needs t'occupy oursel's in honest treasure huntin' as a way o'healin'. (besides, the treasury o'the Piratecats Confederation be a trifle short o'th' ready; an' as gentlemen seacats, ye are well acquainted wif the phrase, "if there be no prey, there be no pay".) we haf a true-drawn map o' Oak Island,

where that blaggard Cap'n Bushbeard be rumored to haf interred a mighty treasure, so we bids ye buckle yer swashes an' shake out yer winter fur--t'will be a chilly cruise, aye, but t'will bring us riches an' honor! i swear it by th'good Saint Robert o'Middleton!!

we knows that efurry ship do face the perils o'th'sea. there be krakens seizin' vessels an' merdogs howlin' sweetly-like to lure unsuspectin' ships t'their doom.

be ye unconcerned that we shall meet wif these trubbles--i haf been reliably informed by our cook that due to th'fightin' skills of our doughty crew,  these partikular perils be no more than ways t'supplement our larder--

which in these days o'straitened funds consists of salmagundi, hammm, cackle fruit, hardtack, hammmm, an' toona joose. so let's make way!!!!!!!!

::the assembled Flotilla moves stately up the coast. time passes, and a lookout spies the island.::

land ho, cap'n.

aye? where away?

it be two points off the starboard bow, sir!

helmsman, d'ye haf an eye on't? make for it!

aye, cap'n! i does, an' i will!

nitro--you an' igmu be signalin' t'th'Flotilla--we rondyvoos in a turn o'the glass! ::two tails begin to wag complex figures from the fo'c'sl deck, informing the Flotilla's ships of meow fang's command. ship's boats begin to make their way to shore and soon a vast company is assembled. the order to commence digging is given, and sand flies everywhere.::

yarrr, bejaybers, lads! be ye not so unhandy in yer kickin' sand abaft--i be standin' here, ye brainless picaroons! ::muffled cries of "aye, cap'n" are heard, followed by vigorous showers of sand:: arrr. some o'these swabs will kiss the gunner's daughter afore this all be done! ::meow fang retires to the shade of a nearby tree, naps, and arises after a bit to play the cello; a report of progress is brought to him by a draggle-tailed tabby::

errr, cap'n?

aye?

we be findin' some fine scratchin' posts here below--t'was oak we shredded fur a goodly while. then there were a bit of dampenin' to our paws, an' it turned a bit mucky, but we persevered an' haf now struck some mighty fine shredded fibers what seem to haf already been shrod to their limit! the second gang o' diggers be now below.

all's well, then, an' progress abides, eh, tabman?

aye, sir.

go rest ye inna shade, or make off t'the races; some of the younger folk haf found feral hawgs an' organized some ennertainments. an' the both winners AND losers o'the race, bigod, will be the star guests at our evenin' meal!! MOL!!

::after a while, another somewhat damp kitty approaches, and announces::

ahoy, cap'n--we haf just gone swimmin' wiffin ye pit wherein water gushed like (shudder) bafftime, an' all of our shift haf escaped ol' jonesy but narrowly, if ol' jonesy can be said to inhabit a hole inna ground, yet it seems as it might be his territory as the swimmin' water be tastin' of sal...

YARRRRRR! belay yer jib-jab an' speak straight er i'll turn The Slice on ye!

aye, cap'n--what i means to say is, we of the second crew brought drillin' truck wif us to see how much further down we might be diggin', as all the diggers were consarned that we might be wetted beyond a cat's tolerance if we were to dig sufficient t'win through to the prize, don'tcha see, wifout...

DAMME! can ye not talk straight? are ye a sea-lawyer in disguise? can NOcat deliver this clobber-head of his burthen?

::the discredited cat backs up into the brush and disappears. from the same brush, a small tortie lass edges forward and says::

aye, cap'n, by yer leave--he means the drill seems to go downward furefurr, an' we be pullin' up bits an' pieces o'trash, but ne'er a bit o'kibble nor gold. howefur, i did notice that some twenty feets above where we haf dug to, there be a small dent inna wall that seems a wee bit different in composition from the surroundin' walls. i proposes we digs side-wise there, an' sees what we shall see.

although thou be but a small kit yet, i believe ye may be in possession of the largest brain onna second shift. ye must eat an uncommon lot o'fish, that bein' brain food. go ye an' do as ye will, an' report back to me so soon as ye may.

aye, cap'n fang; i shall see it done!


::some little while passes, and the tortie kit returns::


cap'n? the engineerin' lads haf hauled up many a sturdy box. would ye honor us wif yer presence an' tend to the openin' of them?

indeed, li'l missy, that i will do with a right good will!

::ka-crunch! one swift wrench of meow fang's paw hauls open the first box, and he exclaims::

oh, by great poseidon's hairy left n ... er, um ... pinkytoe--it be gold!!! true an' pure by the look o'it. arrrrr! we haf wrested back some o'that which were filched contumely from us ofur the years! quartermastercat! present yerself an' take these chests to our countin' room, an' commence to figgerin' up the shares! i doubt not that this be the treasure which many haf sought an' failed t'find, even to the loss of their lives. it took many an' many a wily, wicked scheme to separate us hard-workin' folk from't, and but a small kitty's wisdom to unearth it again to our benefit--i would petition the ship's company that she be awarded an extra share fur her savvy! where be the lass? i would haf her sit wif me at the feast tonight!!

::no one sees the tortie in the immediate area. runners are dispersed to find her. time passes. the torches are lit, the tables are laden, the strains of "fifteen cats on a dead man's chest — Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of toona joose" are heard at the fringes of the dining area. meow fang's voice is heard over the music and general uproar::

 well? well? where be the lass? i haf bid ye request her presence!

::rhubarbandrhubarbandrhubarbandrhubarbandrhubarbandrhubarbandrhubarbandrhubarb::

cease yer mutterin', i say!! where hath she gone?

::xing the slice slinks forth and says::

good cap'n, sir, i haf sent out missives to each an' all masters o'th'Flotilla. each haf returned th' information that there were no wee tortie aboard their vessels, nor on their rolls as crew or turist. no one onna second diggin' shift recalls that there were any cat o'that description amongst 'em. they all agree that they sorta just all decided to go back up to that spot an' dig. no one recalls who first voiced the idea, it seemed to be a common accord. 'tis seemin' like a mystery, my cap'n.

aye, xing, that it seems. *sigh* a winsom lass she were, too. shall we see her again? i wonders.

--finis--

werdless wednesday

tuesday twins

well, sorta twins.  twin-ish. 

oh, woe!

we jus' can't believe that dear miss cathy has left before beau! that shouldn't be alloud. we's purrin' fur heart's peace fur beau, an' his bean sisfur, an' his grammie an' grampie.

mommer keeps drippin' on us, an' we needs to be alone. we are gonna go hide fur a while an' think quiet thoughts.

my folks went to chicago ...

an' all i got was this lousy box!!!

(akshully, it's a pretty good box; fits nice;-)

*SIGH*

we will start postin' again just as soon as mommer kin collect her scattered thoughts. we figgers said thoughts are all ofur the countryside between springfield an' the chicago 'burbs, acause that's where she an' dad were all last week. on august 28th, mom's furry, furry, furry old auntie (93 squillion sleeps) was wafted away to hevvin, an' we think that's sad acause there wasn't no critters waitin' fur her as she crossed the bridge--she nefur had a pet. but ofur than that, efurryone was furry glad that her soul finely was released frum the prison of her withered body an' mind, an' that she is happy again an' free to be all that she was intended to be from the furry furst moment god thought of her. mommer isn't teary or upset, just grateful that there's no more sufferin'; she's done her grievin' ofur a period of years, as auntie left bit by bit.

the "scattered thought collectin'" is due to mommer bein' her last livin' relative, an' haffin' to go through 60 years'-worth of stored stuffs. gramma an' grandaddy useta liff upstairs from auntie, an' some of their stuffs is still there, an' there is stuffs from ALLA them inna basement (which is a room unnerground, what we don't haff here in missouri onna counta there is too many rocks to dig a room-sized place). so mommer an' dad hadda traipse up an' down stairs a lot an' bend an' reach an' sort an' shred an' drag stuff to the trashcan out back, an' unpack an' repack stuffs what hadn't nefur been unpacked since they was gifted, an' haul three carloads to goodwill, an' make cremation an' burial arrangements, an' go see lawyers an' banks an' ofur fambly from gramma's side, an' talk to contractors acause the house needs repair befur it can be sold because auntie wouldn't let nobuddy work onna house inna last 10 years, an' try ta find peoples to buy furnitures acause our house (an' barn) will asplode if they bring enny more furnitures into it. her mental faculties is f.r.i.e.d.

the worst part of the week was that they both founded out that they are older an' creakier than they thought they were.

the good part of the week was that they also had some nice meals wif yummy ethnic/chicago-style foods, an' they dranked a few "toasts" (although that involved likker insteada bread, like we thought it did) to auntie's memry.

an' the best part of the week was that they gots lots accomplished (although they still gotta go back again at least once an' prolly two or three times), an' efurrytime they met somethin' that coulda turned into a clusterflock, it worked out just fine--either somebody knew someone who could do it or fix it or arrange it, or the process weren't as terrorfyin' as they'd feared, an' efurryone at city hall was furry nice to them, etc. etc. like they were bein' watched ofur. we're pretty sure they were!

we din't suffer too drefful either--getzger's momma (miss ginger) an' sometimes mr gary came ofur an' fed us an' scritched us an' loved on us an' scooped fur us inna mornin's, an' our bean-brofur did the same inna evenin's. it was like a vacashun fur us acause the dbd stayed at his house an' wented to work wif him, like she does sometimes wif daddy. so we survived an' only lacked secretaryin'.

so that's where we's been an' what's been goin' on. things'll get back to nermal eventually!!

meYARRRRRRRRR!

meYARRRRR! know ye all by these presents that Monday, 19th September 2011, be MEOW LIKE A PIRATE DAY! this sellybration come about thus: it had been a dark an' sad CB summer in 2007 (summat like these past few weeks). one day in august, our furry own shy an' retirin' Nelson John LaPurr were cruisin' the innernets, an' noticed that the hoomin beans were whoopin' an' hollerin' an' carryin' on quite some about th' 19th day. this be how it started fur the beans. he bethought him o' how a nice sea voyage would be a fine distraction fur us all an' perhaps lift some o'th' sorrow what had been anchorin' our hearts in davy jones's front garden--so he plucked up his courage an' became Cap'n Nels the Cranky an' invented MLAP!

ye kin spy our other past avventures, too: 2008 (a three-parter when the scribe just plumb run off at the jaws) here and here and here! 2009 here, an' 2010 here. aye, an' surely ye kin search ofur kitties' bloggies fur the word "pirate" an' turn up some bonnie treasures!! be ye not dismayed, howsomefurr, if yer abilities run not to the smithin' o' words--ye can sellybrate wif us an' a goodly chunk o'th' CB by doin' enny or all o' these below--or share somethin' wunnerful o' yer OWN invention!

• postin' yer pictures in yer pirate costumes (photoshopped or real) on yer bloggies!
• meowin' yer bloggifyin' (whate'er the subject matter) that day in pirate meows!! lern yer lingo here.
• postin' interestin' information 'bout deeds piratical, real er not-so, present er past!
• goin' here er here an' be dubbed wif yer pirate name! ye'll feel yer feral genes astirrrrrrin'!
• puttin' together a temptation-raidin' parrrrrty. Don't fergit to have a lookout, lest ye be caught an' keelhauled!! an' remember, ye've a right to parrrrrlay if yer caught--an' don't let yer ma say that only works if she's a pirate!!! show her yer hooks an' tell her ye ain't no sea-lawyer, but a true-born brofur o'th' coast!
• showin' us yer booty!! (from the raid, ye swab!)

we hopes to see ye an' yer bloggies ship-shape an' bristol fashion on the 19th, so look to sharpenin' yer weapons an' plannin' yer brave deeds! there's tuna-juice aplenty fer them what sails wif us that day!

(we be truly indebted to the good mistress ann o' zoolatry fur the fine graphic above!! mistress ann haf emailed out various sizes o' it, so post it in yer sidebar. if ye havena got it, email us an' we'll send it along.)

whisker hump wednesday

here's a close-up of ed's (thankfully unfried) left whisker hump. 

we fink it is furry manly, as well as swave an' deboner!

almost-a-mergency!!

we haf sed it befur:  edmund is a plastic-head an' he reely loves electric cords. mommer thinks it's the scent of the petroleum products (plasticizers) that draws him. he loves plastic shoppin' bags an' he even ate the big power cord from the laser printer some years ago. mom an' dad pretty much try to hide the cords by tuckin' 'em down behint stuff, or puttin' 'em outta his reach, but once in a while one gets forgot.

this is what he did last week (go ahead an' biggify to get the full effect). it's a good thing that daddy woked up to make coffees when he did. the back room where this lectric tool battery charger sat had a layer of nasty-smellin' smoke floatin' up at the ceilin'. it smelled awful an' we hollered an' hollered an' hollered at him to get up, but he kep' hollerin' back SHUT THE ____ UP like he usually does acause he thought we wanted to be fed, an' he knew mommer had already fed us an' he thought we were tryin' to wangle second helpins. when he DID finely get up, you can't imagine how quick he hopped around, feelin' the wall fur heat, runnin' outside to see if there was smoke an' flame, runnin' up the attic stairs to look for danger, whippin' open windows, turnin' on the attic fan, an' tarnishin' the welkin all the while.

inna mean time, ed sat calmly an' watched all the activity with his usual mild detachment. oncet upon a time, miss ginger an' mr gary an' mommer an' dad were sittin' around the kitchen table, tryin' to describe us cats (their four an' us) each wif just one word. mommer decided that "bemused" fit edmund the best, since he just allus seems vaguely surprised an' slightly disconnected from reality (except when whippin' the snot outta some kitteh who has disturbed his bemusement). hmmmm ... "disconnected". izzn't that what happens to electric cords? honesly, we dunno why he hasn't been disconnected pernamently, an' we tries to guard against it; does enny of you cats out there haff this prollem? what does yer beans do about it?

NB:  when mom got up a little while afters, the smokes was gone but the smell still lingered. she pried open ed's mouf to see if there was enny ouchies, but there was nary a one. she sed, "well, i allus believed the lord looks out fur drunks an' fools--an' i guess i know which one YOU are, edmundo."

feral furriday!

oh, great bast!! yesterday, our buddy miles ofur at meezer tails posted about kentucky fried chick-hen, wif its elebenty herbs an' spices. that reminded our mommer we hadn't had enny in so long that igmu din't even know what it was--an' HE's been wif us two years this month!

in fact, the post did what is referred to in some parts of the South as: it done flung a cravin' ON her!! dang if she din't go get some authentic kernel frickin' chick-hen at lunch--the big giant economy size cluck-in-a-bukkit chick-hen, so daddy could haff some fur supper.

of course, she hadda haf some for lunch acause all those steamy hot hevvinly perfumes were pullin' theirselfs up through her nose-holes by grabbin' onto the hairs an' shimmyin' their way into the brain--they just flat took her ofur. even if she hadn't had that cravin' flung on her, she woulda been powerless unner the spell of the smells. once she settled at the table, it wasn't pretty: she scarfed down two legs anna thigh an' several forkfuls of chopped up begebuls wifout even breathin'. i, nitro, got whacked onna head wif the fork no less than three times while i was tryin' to clean up the crums that were flyin' efur-which-way while she inhaled the chick-hen.

finely, she said, "ok, boys, now you kin each haf  some chick-hen." nacherly, iggy an' i lunged fer it an' got a couple more thwacks for our trubble. "dammit, i din't mean you could pick yer own!! lemme pick off some bits that ain't fatty an' then ed kin haf some, too." so while she was pickin' shreds off the bones, iggy saw his chance an' reached in unner her hands, hooked a legbone wif a claw, grabbed it up wif his mouf, an' took off fur the puter room.

it was sure funny watchin' mom bein' tore in haff mentally--if she took off hotfoot after him, she knew the plate wif the pickin's an' bones (not to mention the rest of the bukkit) would get pillaged good an' proper, but then she din't want iggy runnin' wif scissors ... er ... a bone in his mouf, either. she din't even know who to holler at!!! me an' ed MOLd fur all we was werth while creepin' closer to the feast! at last, she grabbed the plate from unner our noses, stacked it onna bukkit, an' bundled the whole thing into the oven as she passed it on the way to the puter room.

by this time, iggy was hunkered down unner the puter desk. she grabbed fur him; he was growlin' at her. he scooted out the side of the desk an' took off around the chair. she followed, throwin' clo'espins at him to make him drop the bone (hah! as if!). he ran back unner the counter, an' when she lined up onna side of the desk to catch him, he went back out the way he come in an' headed fur the kitchen again. all the while she was castin' aspershuns on his parentage an' threatenin' to soak his head inna terlet when she caught him an' then hang him out to dry. he just growled louder, an' wove hisself in, out, an' around the chairleg forest where she couldn't reach him, then took off fur the puter room again. he was right lively!

as she was roundin' the corner of the oven, a light bulb came on ofur her head (honest, we saw it!), an' she reached in an' got a little chunk of crunchies, plunged into the puter room, an' shut the door behint her. we din't see the rest, but iggy tole us later that she waved that crunchy glob in his face a few times an' then very unfairly tossed it just outta his reach so he'd hafta stretch out to get it. when he opened his mouf to grab it, she grabbed the bone, an' it was all ofur. damn them opposable thumbs!!

ennyway, this is all that was left onna bone--

he managed to gnaw off an' eat alla the meat that was left as well as the mooshy parts on bofe ends while he was runnin' around avoidin' capture AND cussin'; that boy can multi-task!! all hail igmu: he may be a indoor kitteh, but he's got the heart of a successful feral!

does this belong to someone YOU know?