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?

BLACK CAT & WHISKER HUMP APPRECIATION DAY!!

ahhhhhhh. i is a black cat, 

an' i is appreciatin' the heck outta this head skritch!
(an' i has mancatly whisker humps, too!!
see ya at the bridge, mrawmraw!)

sweet? us? awwww, shux!

our good buddy, clooney, gifted us wif this nifty award--fur which we thanks him heartily!--an' now we is spo'sd to tell seven things about us. well, if we told seven things fur each of us four, we would be here for quite a while. so we will tell fourteen an' mix it up:

IGMU SAPA:

1. is named "black cat" in the lakota language acause mommer's 'dopted bean-brofur is lakota, an' he's the one who knocked a hole inna wall to get iggy out when he fell down inbetween the inside an' outside walls at her day-huntin' place.
2. is not a lapkitteh at all; sometimes he will lay on dad's lap or legs, but nefur mom's. he hafs no sense of gratitude, since she's the one who saved his ungrateful butt from a return to feral status! sometimes he does lay onna kitchen table an' snuggle up to her arm an' let her pet him, though.
3. is frequently followed an' attackted by a fuzzy black caterpillar that makes him just bat-$#!+ crazy--like in fallin'-offa-the-kitchen-chair-while-chasin'-it crazy.

XINGXING:

1. lets mommer furminate her wifout protest from tip to tail while they's in xingie's room, but she hollers like she's bein' stuck if mommer tries it while they's sittin' inna liffin' room.
2. likes "patay"-textured foods acause they stick in her mouf an' she kin suck 'em down wifout losin' 'em out the hole where her upper left front fang is missin', which happens when she tries to eat chunky bits. 
3. does not know how to play the fingers-under-the-covers game, or any reg'lar kitty games; she is mostly scairt of quick-movin' things. she luffs catnip, though, an' will drool herself silly ofur her plague rattie.

NITRO:

1. hafs really, really thick, coarse furs an' hacks up decent-sized hairballs efurry single day! he is a furry clean kitty.
2. is a frickin' loud-mouth; if he's awake an' not on dad's lap, he's walkin' around yellin'. this is seriously annoyin' to the beans. he is learnin' to dodge shoes an' brushes an' rolled-up sox real good--but he don't really hafta wurry much. dad's a lousy shot--he hits mom's toes ofur on her recliner about as often as he ackshully gets close to nitro. this has led to some fairly loud discussions between dad an' mom.
3. is terrified of visitors, even ones he has seen fairly offen an' recently. when mommer an' dad are gone, if miss ginger an' mr gary come to feed an' scoop fur us, it takes about three days fur him to come out an' be seen.

EDMUND:

1. hafs a brofur named bilbo who looks almost like him except in short hair version. he liffs wif mr dave an' miss kim, who were the beans who sheltered the kittehs' mama when they were borned.
2. despises peanut butter an' will not touch any bread offered if there is even a suggestion of a trace of a whiff of peanut butter on it.
3. likes to sit onna human litter box (when the seat is down, uf cawse), an' scratch at the tank onna back of it wif both front paws like he was tryin' ta rip it open. we haf nefur figgered out why he does this.

an' to round out the list, here's something about a couple of the cats-who-came-before:

UNCLE EEKER:

1. loved the smella garlic an' onions like ofur cats like catnip!! when mommer made pasketti sauce, he would roll around onna kitchen floor an' scoot hisself headfurst into the wall--several times--in his owl-eyed ecstasy.

MOUSE MCNASTY:

1. din't like catnip at all, but boy--hold down a menthol cigarette fur him to smell, an' he'd sniffle an' slobber ofur it until the paper was all soggy. he also went cuckoo ofur some fuller brush "cooling foot spray" that mommer useta use. once he so thoroughly slobberified the shoes she was gonna wear to go out that she hadda pick anofur pair instead.

now we's spos'd to pick more kittehs to take part in this, but we haf come to the game so late, we can't remember who's done it an' who hasn't--so if the shoe fits (giggle), wear it, an' let us know!!

mancat monday--c'mon, girlcats

i am a sexy porch panther wif an exotic name!

you want me ... you know you do!

i'm WATCHING you!

this feller is the store kitty where mommer buys us treats. don't he haff a splendid commander kitty tower?  there prolly ain't many shoplifters around there. he kin keep a wevver eye out even while playin' the cello!

yipes! stripes?

no, i am not growin' skunk stripes. me an' nitro was jostlin' fur the haf-n-haf this mornin' (ed don't get outta bed that early enny more, so we kin haff some if he ain't around), an' i got the werst of it. i didn't want nitro to get it, so i took a lessin frum the dbd an' shook myself all ofur. mommer liked that--she sed, "oh, thank you!" real loud.

werdless wednesday

temptin' tuesday

mommer took this pickchure just befur i put my airplane ears on an' started to lash my tail. i dunno WHY i hafta whip up on my sisfur. i just does. the very fact that she breathes the same air i does is a temptashun to do it. 

peeyes: after the airplane ears, mommer putted the book ofur my face so's i couldn't see xingie ennymore. she is a major (maybe general, even) spoilsport.

world cat day

we are furry proud to take part in WCD!! we are, after all, part of the reason fur it;-) (mommer wishes she had been more onna ball an' done an akshul post, but it was too darn hot this weekend to even think about it, she sez. dunno why; there weren't any more than the usual three to four cats roostin' on her. even when she fled to the kitchen table, at least two of us follered an' draped ourselfs ofur her arms while she read;-)

an' best of all, it's our daddy's purrrthday--happy purrrrthday, you ol' cat lover, you!

thursday treasure hunt

boys? BOYS! BOYS!!

huh?

there's nothing in there for you.

yeah, that's what you allus sez.

and there never IS anything, IS there?

but it smells like noms!

we don't keep the noms there any more, since you two burglars discovered how to pick open the door.

*thunk* OWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!

ed, that wasn't very nice, letting the door slam on iggy's paw. what do you say now?

mumblemumblemumblemumble

ahem; i don't think iggy heard you.

yeah, i did. he said if i hadn't been foolin' wif the door, you woodn'ta efurr heard us an' we coulda got the noms out wifout you knowin'.

but there ARE NO NOMS, you leather-headed little cuss!

yeah, that's what you allus sez 

i feel a headache coming on ...

edmund's asleep ...

so we are takin' this opportunity to wash dishes fur mom--she eats her rice wif butter an' salt, an' we din't want ed to be ofurwhelmed wif temptayshun by the butter, since he ain's sposed to haff no fats. we likes our brofur, an' wantsta keep him healthy!! HONEST!! that's all there was to it. srsly.

3 Ts

tummy, toezies (some of 'em) and tail!

mancat monday guest star!

it's our buddy, getzger! we all liff in springfield missouri, an' that's the home of the saint louis cardinals' farm team. the g-meister is all deckt out in cardinal red, waitin' fur the next game! we  meowers is all cubs fans, onna counta mommer bein' frum chicago, but we gotta admit getzger's stylin' in this photo!!