A New word is Added in the Cathood

Here in the Cathood, we make up or as I prefer to say, create, our own language. That way the cats and I can communicate without worrying other humans and cats will understand us.

Fud is homemade cat food. Yelling Fud will bring cats from the far reaches of the Cathood. Fresh chicken is quite the lure but lately we have learned that calabaza, which is a West Indian pumpkin bearing little resemblance to an American pumpkin, is a real favorite edging out cooked carrots. It is Cucurbita moschata. Is is not a favorite of the Mamma, as it is tough and hard to dice and peel. But they can tell it from American winter squash which are a so-so veggie in the Cathood.

Today's new word is Assing.

Let's just say a couple of the neuters are well endowed in the lower posterior. Today two of them got into an altercation over being next to the Mamma. We can't call this a fight as no trash talking or spatting occurred. He of the huge lower posterior, whom we will not identify, simply began gently using his huge asset to push he of an almost equal asset away from the coveted lap. This was done in slow motion with neither cat actually looking at the other cat.

Cat Asset #2, then attempted to slip his asset under Giant Asset and unseat him causing Giant Asset to begin squishing Asset #2. I watched as this was getting really funny with neither Asset actually acknowledging that the other existed or that there was a disagreement occurring.

Hence, the new word: Assing, will be added to the Cathood language.

I finally had to leave before I fell down laughing my asset off.  

The Crime Scene

I returned to the bedroom to find my new pens missing and their container splattered on the floor.

 Who did it and where were my pens? I found my container, the bottle of paint and my lip liner but where were the pens. Finally I saw my little witches' boot dangling in midair and grabbed it but the broom was missing. I began to questions the suspects.

Napoleon: "Mommy, you KNOW I never knock anything down and I would never stoop to steal anything. I am the emperor. I own it all. I don't need to steal anything! I am innocent. Innocent, I say. It was that black cat."

Ah, but which black cat, indeed???

Mr. Orson Wells, "You were on the bed. I am certain you saw everything."
"Who, me? You know I sleep all the time. I was next to your pillow. I just woke up when you started screaming about brooms. Now, it you don't mind...zzzzzzzz.....I have a movie plot to work on..zzzz.."

 Miss Purdy von Sweets: "I was at the top of the room, resting on my favorite box. I know nothing, but I see all. You really need to question the little addict....."

Ningee: "Me??? I can't believe she call me an addict! I, who share my Temptations with that witch. I am the only who speaks sign language. I am the only one you listen to and get Temptations for. I am not an addict! I may need a few of them to get through the day but I am NOT an addict. I am certain we are all innocent. Buuutttt.....last night you did bring home that discounted African Violet. It wasn't even a full priced one. It is a newcomer and this morning, your pens went missing........"

"Me, I'm a Freaking Plant! I can't move. I was nowhere near those pens. I don't even know what a pen is. Could you brush my leaves with that little broom pen thingie? It's on the floor."

How did the plant know where the broom was?

Well, the plant does have a vantage position on top of the tower.

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm..... Only one thing left to do. I must consult the oracle.

I am Voodoo aka Little Momma and I know all. Have you checked the tail?

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm........
I think I have the answer. In the rush to get off the bed with me, the container was knocked to the floor by the only cat with a huge tail,,, long haired... brush like tail with a powerful addiction. Do you know who the guilty cat was??? But, can you prove it?

How to put expensive eye drops into your eyes.

1. Always apply eye liner first. Then remember you need to put the drops in.

2. Line dropper up with center of eye by staring straight at it.
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3. Look to one side to disable blink reflex.

4. Slowly squeeze dropper while cat jumps on your chest.

5. Start over.

6. Explain to everyone you worship the raccoon god when they ask about your makeup.

Ningee, the Feline Koko

Move over Koko, here comes Ningee.

Koko is a guerrilla that was taught human sign language and now communicates with her humans quite well, well enough to even request a kitten as a pet. Ningee is a cat I raised from day 3 of life with her 6 siblings. She has created her own sign language to communicate with me and it really is sign language.

You must consider that Koko has fingers, a thumb and two hands which makes learning sign language easier than having paws and no fingers to move. Our venture into sign language started when Ningee developed an addiction to the cat treats known as Temptations. You might want to never give these things to your cat as they are designed to addict a cat from the crunchy outside to the soft insides to, I have discovered, the super loud noise the package makes when handled. You will never touch the package without your cat knowing.

One night as I was minding my own business and everyone elses' on Facebook, Ningee jumped up between me and the computer with am empty bag of Temptations in her mouth. It was particularly endearing because she is a very low to the ground and little kitty and could barely drag the bag without tripping over it. She also has, somewhere amid that long fur, several high powered amplifiers hidden connected to a voice box powered by the cutest little hot pink tongue you have ever seen. While I was marveling at how cute she was and wondering where the heck she got the bag, she shook it at me. This very human act startled me into inaction and that resulted in the your brain will bleed volume of her meup. She has a large vocabulary, even bigger I suspect if I had equipment that could measure sounds in the ultrasound range and perhaps much lower. She never meows. She meups. That was when I realized this was no cute trick, this was communication and she wanted Temptations.

This is real communications and it continued for several weeks but with no real expansion of her vocabulary until the morning I awoke blurry eyed and brain fuzzy to realize something was on the pillow next to my eyeballs and behind it was the dreaded sitting Ningee staring at me. That sitting position and staring means I had better get my sorry body up and do her bidding but what was on the my pillow. As my eyes slowly focused I still could not make sense of what was on my pillow and if I didn't do that soon, the dreaded bleeding from the ears meup was sure to happen. It was an empty aqua pod, a little half sized plastic water bottle. Now, I haven't had an aquapod in the house since they were last on sale 2 years ago, but I do admit to occasionally throwing empty plastic water bottles at an out of reach cat because it won't hurt them and it scares them out of the spot they are tormenting me from by testing gravity.

Cats refuse to believe gravity is not some sneaky thing that may at any moment cease to function so they have to knock breakable objects off high surfaces to test it.

The aquapod is the only plastic water bottle a short little Ningee could possibly hope to carry in her tiny mouth, but what on earth was she communicating. I was certain she had not run out of her supply of empty Temptations packages. On my way to the bathroom, first stop when awakened at my age, I happened to notice her personal water dish was empty. Could it be? COULD IT???? I stopped and filled it and she ran over for a long drink.

Oh my, she had added a new sign to her vocabulary. I examined the aquapod and discovered that it must have lodged somewhere that would afford a coat of dust or I would have noticed it and retrieved it but it had been cleaned, dusted and was in pristine condition. A few minutes later when I wasn't watching, it disappeared into where ever Ningee keeps her supply of signs and toys.

No, it doesn't end there. I have two things. One is a bag of knitting hanging on the wall way out of reach of all cats because you know what happens when yarn and cats get together...neither may survive. Swallowed yarn causes intestinal blockages requiring surgery. Bag 2 is hanging in a accessible location on my door and gathers things to be sorted later. It is in Bag 2 that I usually stash the Temptations bag. However, Trouble AKA Stoner discovered the location and in all his heftiness jumped up for the Temptations and ripped the side of the bag out. I spent several minutes inserting the Temptations only to have the bag land on the floor before my brain registered the back of the bag was missing. So, in an effort to hide the bag of Temptations, I causally stuck it in the yarn bag and forgot about it.

In the middle of the night I awoke to the most horrible sound that would scare even the bravest of people as it was totally unidentifiable and getting closer and closer. I turned on the light and managed to focus my eyes just as Ningee slid onto my feet and walked up the expanse of my body which I admit isn't far because I am short and sat down holding the Temptations bag in her mouth. I thought it was her regular sign bags until she shook it.

Okay, this is impossible because she must jump (her little short legs do not make jumping easy) onto the laptop case on the crafting area, hit the window sill, jump to the entertainment center, jump down to the storage boxes, up to the curio tower and over to the boxes strategically placed on the other curio tower to prevent a cat from getting on it as they only have about 5 inches clearance to the ceiling, squirm on her belly across them, slither down to the narrow black bookcase and then dangle by her hind legs off the edge, grab the Temptations package in her teeth that is lodged in the knitting bag, pull it up, manage to slither through the 5 inch gap with the full bag of Temptations in her mouth retracing this impossible route until I saw her jump from the laptop bag onto my feet and walk the length of me to deposit the bag on my chest. She really need the Mission Impossible theme playing but instead, the bag was making a horrible, unearthly noise as she dragged, pulled, jumped with and carried it at least 40 feet. And then she shook it. I opened the bag and gave it to her, on the bed, because something like that deserves a great reward.

This cat's IQ is in the human range.

You may ask how this happened. What did I feed her? What did I do?

It is called enrichment in psychology. Sadly it is the reason why inner city children do not develop as quickly as country or wealthy children and provides a lifetime of low IQ and poor reasoning ability. The two are not the same. Inner city children were found to be confined to a bare room as there was no money for toys or even bright pain and pictures. Because of this, their brains did not develop the same as children getting constant stimulation and new things to look at and touch and examine. Experiments with rats showed that if they were raised in a enriched environment with plenty of toys, colors, new experiences and attention, they were almost twice as smart as the average lab rat. That's it. Same nutrition, same cage just lots of toys and attention. Attention didn't work alone. They needed the colors, toys and stimulation.

The Furry 7 were delivered of a wild mother who ran in the house at the last minute and hid. To be fair, I wasn't certain a raccoon hadn't breached my defenses. We live next to a park teaming with wildlife. That night, I heard a kitten scream, a sound after years of raising cats I am attuned to hear even though I am mostly deaf. I think you could scream for help at the top of your lungs all night and I would peacefully sleep but one peep from a kitten and I am wide awake and on my feet. I found the feral mom on the top of the upright freezer with one little red kitten, now known as Fire, dangling off the south side by his little feet. I am pretty sure he meows with a southern accent. I tried to move them to a box and it seemed to work but a few minutes later mother and kits, two at that point, had disappeared. I figured I would find her the next morning because after all where could she hide in the house I couldn't find her.

That will be your first mistake. When I opened the front door to get the morning paper, she was gone in an instant and I never would have found those kittens if Rusty had not stuck a paw out and waved it two days later. Feral kittens are trained instantly to not make a sound so they don't attract predators. Domestic kittens will scream their little heads off at feeding time. This little lady had found the most inaccessible location in the house and stuffed them under a bookcase. If I didn't have long narrow hands, I would never have gotten them out of there. And then it began. I bottle fed them and diapered them and set a trap with babies as bait to catch mommy.

Ah but now there was a problem. How was I going to prevent her from escaping and enjoying the Vida Loca outside while I raised her little minions? The big kennel would only work for a couple of weeks, so George bought them the Cadillac of cages complete with three shelves, a cushion and four doors at the pet store for a small fortune though it was discounted as the floor sample was all they had left. This is when I am thankful I have a commercial van. Once installed, I cut up fatigue matting so their little paws and bodies would have soft surfaces on every shelf and the floor and because of the size of the matting, different colors. Then came the toys every time I went shopping and I guess they quickly evolved into the grandkids we would never have as they were constantly taken out and played with and cuddled and even fed. Next thing I knew, I had 7 cats with IQ's equal to little humans and the ability to climb anything and no hope of finding homes for them as everyone I knew had been suckered in by a pregnant feral cat and now had an instant crazy cat lady kit they were trying to find homes for....I guess we could have just exchanged kittens for variety but we were all stuck, even my vet. As soon as mother was spayed, she managed to escape leaving me with 7 half grown kittens and she never looked back. Now they really were spoiled as we took the place of their mother.

How spoiled? Everyone has their own bowl, their own special food they want, their own spot and they have even picked out which of the humans they will con. Oh, and now we even have to buy two varieties of kitty litter. Ningee will eventually teach the other six sign language. They all talk and seem to consider us the slow ones as we don't jump on command. We get the “what is wrong with you, slow ones” look several times a day. Nothing is done until the Furry 7 are attended when we awaken. I, however, demand coffee and since my coordination is not good until the second cup and they have tails, they have learned to sit by the coffee maker and wait for me to get that first cup down before beginning the to do list for my day....feed me...wash the water bowls and refill the kibble dispenser...pet me...open my special can...pet me...I need teeth cleaning kibble...where's my catnip mouse????? Meanwhile, in catdom, Ningee's IQ continues to climb. The final domination of the world is not far from her reach as soon as she learns to use the computer. She may have already done that. How do you know who is really writing this?

Ningee learns sign language

I awoke to a strange crinkling sound close to my face. When you live among the natural and unnatural, you learn not to open your eyes until your brain is fully engaged and mine was mired in the quicksand of sleep being pulled into dreamtime. The crinkling refused to go away. It was right in my face, literally. Slowly I pried one eye open hoping to focus but only seeing blue. Ah, now it was time to get both eyes open and see what was crinkling and blue.

I found Ningee holding the empty temptations bag in her mouth, shaking it in my face. She has learned to communicate. The empty temptations bag delivered to the human must result in food. At first it only meant kitty treats. Now it means all food. It is 9 in the morning and the Ningee belly has proclaimed it breakfast. It is too bad the creaking body of the old human disagrees because the human knows she will lift herself up and feed the cat. She doesn't want to see or feel the next level of communications.

The Monkey is back on Purdy von Sweet's Back

 When Purdy von Sweets was a little kitten, she developed an addiction to coffee. Yes, I mean coffee. She would hunt coffee beans that had escaped my watchful eye. She would bat the coffee grinder until she managed to get some grounds loose. She would drink your coffee. Lastly on a desperate morning, she was found dangling in the garbage trying to get at old coffee grounds.

I don't have to tell you the addiction was completely out of hand and I worried for her health. Coffee is not good for cats. She was skinny as a rail and was developing a tail twitch. Thus all coffee was banned from Purdy von Sweets.

It was rough. We lost quite few coffee cups and endured some nasty scratches. She also developed the habit of biting. I could envision her, an old skinny cat with a cigarette dangling out her mouth leaning over a cup of coffee. I persevered and finally after what seemed like eternity, she emerged from the addiction cycle.

She has been clean and mean for a couple of years until this morning. She never gained weight. I made myself a nice cup of Cuban coffee with heavy cream. As Napoleon was enjoying his morning yogurt with me carefully turning the bowl so he can get the maximum licking in, I noticed one Purdy von Sweets poised on her rump, front feet reaching out and nostrils twitching like an overwrought demon. Her head was slowly turning as she scanned the air waves for the delicious aroma of coffee and cream.

And then she found it. I tried to wave the fragrance away. I tried to divert her. I even scratched her belly but nothing could deter her from that cup of Joe or Jose as it was except the slamming of the bedroom door in her little face. All this time and monkey on her back has returned. Back to watching my coffee cup every moment.

Your Morning Meow

 I don't start my days like normal people. Normal people start their days in boring manners. They start their day with an obnoxious alarm clock. I start my day the same way except my alarm clock is furry and has neither a snooze button nor an off switch. I don't want to get up. I will postpone it as long as possible even though I know the longer I wait the more the chance of bodily injury. Today, I have a back foot rake from one Napoleon.

Napoleon is really the least of my worries. Yes, he is a mammoth cat whose weight threatens to break my bones at times, but he is easily bought off with some kibble and a little ice water. After that, depending on the actual hour he will either begin another 18 hour nap on me or in the sun. Napoleon is not dangerous. He rules by default as the first one rescued from a vicious dog. He is my child.

The dangerous one is Ninja One now known as Ningee. I had no idea I was naming her after a Goddess when I changed her name but she did. Ningee is the runt of the infamous Furry 7 delivered the night her mother wheedled her way into my house and decided the top of the upright freezer was the right place for kittens. I have no idea in what order Ningee arrived, I just know Fire was the first. There were two black kittens, both female and the tiny one became Ningee with her impish face and long shining hair. Ningee rules by cunning and intelligence.

Ningee has mastered the cute meow. She begins with a high pitched me and ends with a low pitched but louder op. All this is done while widening her eyes and looking up at you with a heartbreaking plea. That is why it is best to view the spectacle from the side of your eye as full eye contact will render you incapable of refusing.

That was what happened today. I heard the trademarked Me-Op and glanced sideways but alas the Ningee was on the floor and I was on the bed and I had to turn my head. I beheld a sight I have never seen in almost 60 years of cat ownership. It was a sight that reduced me to a quivering pile of compliant jello as I laughed out loud. There on the floor was Ningee the Tiny with an entire empty bag of Temptations in her mouth, the bag almost the same size as she is. She emitted the Me-Op with the bag firmly in her little mouth, dropped it to the floor, looked up at me and let out a Meeeeee-OP that would have made a lion proud. I had to get her some Temptations.

It was then she used her psychic ninja powers on me and I accidentally spilled the whole half a bag of Temptations. As I am very fond of all my ten fingers, I did not attempt to retrieve a single piece. Instead I let Napoleon help her gorge and a few minutes later I discovered she was carrying a Temptation on her back. Eventually Napoleon relieved her of the offending morsel.

And that is how I started my day in sunny, hot South Florida, with a Me-Op and iced coffee.