19 August 2011

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!

17 August 2011


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!)

16 August 2011

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:


  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.
  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.
  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.
  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:

  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.
  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!!

15 August 2011

mancat monday--c'mon, girlcats

i am a sexy porch panther wif an exotic name!
you want me ... you know you do!