Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Nonstop Chops

I was at work the other night waiting for my last customer to finish eating. He was by himself and didn't seem to be in a hurry, but I was, I had Christmas shopping to do.
Finally I asked him if he was done, "Yes, now I would like a cup of coffee."
He was licking his chops over and over, raving about the food, and I think because I was tired and just wanted to go, he started to look like my clan of cats after they finish eating, and because he was stalling I almost asked him how he enjoyed his cat food.
I know, that doesn't sound nice, but it was only a passing thought.

Once I did get home, I still felt like I was at work. Only now, I had to serve my cats, and by the way, the only tip they leave is fur on my clothes or a coughed up hairball.
They were starving.
"Sorry I'm late kitties, but I had a customer who might have been related to all of you."

I decided to time their after dinner chop session - approximately four minutes.
I told you before I need to get a life.
But I did find that time frame interesting. It was shorter than my customer.

Cats by nature are clean freaks, so in a sense, they are brushing their teeth after meals, it's not because the food I serve them is prepared by America's top chef.
Their nonstop chops after eating is justified.
They can't use napkins, and I don't expect them to use toothpaste and a toothbrush, like my vet once told me to do for April. She even demonstrated on my cat, who by the way froze in the vet's hands, as if suddenly the temperature dropped 20 degrees below zero.
"See, you just lift up her mouth and get right into her gum area."
"Would you like to be my personal dentist and stop by my house every day to brush her teeth, because if I did that, I'd have to go to ER for third degree scratches."

My cats sometimes wash each other after meals, except April, she'll have no part in that nonsense.
I tell her "no man is an island," well, in her case, "no cat is an island," but she walks away, and yaps she's the exception to that quote.
Jake, who seems to 'brush' longer than the others, I think does so because he was homeless before I took him in, and instinctively, cats in the wild clean themselves after eating to wash away the scent of food - it's their way to keep predators away, and I must say, for Jake, that is a great trait to have - food is his alone.

What's the point of this issue? Probably nothing.
Blame it on my customer.

Sunday, October 23, 2011

Strike A Pose - Meet The Faces Behind The Issues

        Mr. C
 "Whatever" attitude.
 Likes doing nothing.
 Senior of the bunch.
 Walks slow until I open the front door,
 then he's suddenly in a marathon.
 Never been married. Too much effort.
Left behind by a neighbor who
I heard was a stripper. Shame on her.
Not for stripping, but for leaving Jake homeless.
Waited for me every night in my parking spot.
Was a mess until I took him in.
Loves food, especially mine.
Had many girlfriends, but 'fixed Romeo' when he moved in.


Too pretty to be a boy.
Heart shaped nose. One green eye, one blue.
Likes to bother the other cats.
His best friend is Mr.C
Loves to cuddle with me, but puts me in lockdown mode
when I have to get up.
Very fidgety when not tired.
Single white male.

  My bodyguard.
  Never lets anyone or any cat around me without
  her approval.
  Picked her out of a bunch of screaming kittens --
  she was the only one facing the wall and didn't want
  to be bothered.
  Still has that same attitude.      
  No boyfriend. Too busy keeping an eye on me.

Rescued as a kitten from the side of the Las Vegas freeway.
Terrified of everyone and everything for months.
Love and patience finally turned her around.
She's now the most brave of the bunch.
Sashays around the house and flirts with my brother.                                                                                                                  
What else is there to say?
He's the baby of the bunch
and our in-house Movie Star.                                                                                                                                                                                      


Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Stair Affair

Love at first sight?  Maybe.
Love at first stair?  Yes!

Ask my brother Gary, it happened to him....with Midnight, one of my cats.
I know, you're probably rolling your eyes, but I have to tell
you about this love story.

Midnight has green piercing eyes, silky fur, and a smooth meow.
She'll melt the hardest of hearts.
We rescued her from our veterinarian's office.
Someone dropped her off on the doorstep after finding her huddled and dying on the side of the
busy Las Vegas freeway. The vet warned us she may never come around and trust anyone again,
but we just couldn't walk away after hearing her story.

Days and weeks passed and slowly Midnight learned we weren't here to hurt her.

Now, enter my other cats: all of a sudden, they're working a surveillance job.
Monitoring every move Midnight makes, they talk among themselves about this
 "dysfunctional cat I brought home."
They gossip, lounge around drinking water, crunching on Party Mix Treats,
and talk about how this new feline needs to "get over it" and get on with her life.
After all, they don't have any 'issues.'

Anyway, Gary came over one day and Midnight was on the top of the stairs.
"Hey cutie," Gary said as he sat on the bottom step, "walk down here honey."

"Forget it, she doesn't talk to strangers, she hardly talks to me!"  I said.

Gary, his ego floating above him, ignored me.
He sat there for a long time cooing with a high pitched voice,
while his usual deep testosterone voice waited in the car.

"I guarantee she's going to run and hide any second now,
so don't let your charm go to your head just yet."
and sure enough, when Gary inched up one stair,
Midnight took off, gone for the day.

Better luck next time. and next time.

Same attempt every visit. Gary on the bottom stair, Midnight on the top,
Gary talking cat language, Midnight watching with wary eyes...
until one afternoon, she slowly moved down one stair.

Caught both of us off guard.

Gary inched up one stair. Midnight moved down one more,
Gary moved up one....until finally, they met in the middle.
Midnight jumped on his lap, squeaked, purred, cuddled, told him "you're the one!"
"I still have it!"  he said proudly.

"Wow, did you see that up there on surveillance!?" I asked the other cats.
After all this time and after the vet said she'll never "come around,"
I watched her abandon her fears in the arms of my brother.

Now, every time Gary visits, wherever Midnight is, she sashays into his open arms.
Fussing, squeaking, and purring (and I'm talking about Gary.)
Hallmark Greetings await.

Maybe it was the way Gary showed patience as she hesitated to come to him,
maybe it was Midnight finally giving in, believing it's time to trust someone.
I do know in the end, love wins out, and if you show anyone, even animals, unconditional love,
most of the time it changes them for the better, and ourselves....even if it starts on the stairs.