Kitty Christmas

Having had such a nice Christmas ourselves, it would have been just plain rude not to get the cats a little something. Not that they really care.  They normally end up playing in the gift boxes anyway.  But I happened upon another fabulous fur find and couldn’t resist getting the little boogers a treat from Santa.

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I got them a big, soft bed and a new scratching/play toy combo gym thing.

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While Gus was immediately hypnotized by the carpeted ball tree, Scarlett gave me the “I asked for a Play Station 4” look.

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Scarlett pouted for a minute as Gus executed his attack.

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It took a few minutes for them to declare the new bed habitable, but they eventually got in it.

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The bed is plenty big enough for both of them to relax in it comfortably.  This isn’t exactly the sleeping configuration I had imagined. From the looks of it, it wasn’t what Scarlett had in mind either.

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After a while, Scarlett settled into a position with a little more breathing more.  As for Gus, I decided to have a little fun with him and put one of those paper “ribbons” on him.   At first, he acted like it was some debilitatingly heavy back brace even though it couldn’t have weighed 1/8 of an ounce.  He went and sat in the bed with Scarlett to recover from his condition.

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Then he forgot he had a condition and a back brace and decided that hangy-ball needed catching.

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Mmmm, tastes like salmon.

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Time for a nap.

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Burst of energy!

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Time for another nap.

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He slowly overcame his condition, got up from the bed…

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and started to step out of his back brace to check out the carpet ball tree from another angle…

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Then he got distracted and had to sniff Eugene’s gift boxes…

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Nearly free of his shackles, he spotted Eugene’s egg-shaped lip gloss that was evidently much more entertaining than his gifts.  He and Scarlett then spent the next 30 minutes chasing it around the living room.

I should have just gotten them lip gloss.

And a Play Station 4.

Y’all keep it real,

Sugarlump

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Jailbreak

Until recently, I had left Gus and Scarlet in my bedroom suite when out of the house so that I did not return to find them patrolling the top of the upper cabinets in my kitchen.  I’ve heard that animals like to be somewhat confined anyway.  Maybe somebody feeling guilty about leaving his/her animals in a small space made that up, but I was going with it.  My cats had all of my bedroom, hall and bathroom to roam and they had all the food they could eat, water they could drink and litter box they could…well you know what I mean.  They were all set.

Imagine my surprise one night when I come home from work and am greeted at the front door by two 15” tall furry creatures eager to see the world beyond the front door.  I quickly closed the door and stood there for a minute, amazed that they could have gotten out.  I have small French doors that must be very forcefully pulled open and closed for the spring to lock.  How a 13 pound cat without thumbs or considerable muscle mass can open a door I struggle with on a daily basis is beyond me.  I thought maybe this was just a fluke and that perhaps I hadn’t closed the doors all the way.  But lo and behold, the next day, I was again welcomed home/hounded for food at the front door.

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When my parents were here a couple of weeks back, we decided to run an experiment to see how long it takes them to get the door open.  I closed the cats in my bedroom and headed out to work, leaving my mom in the living room.  My mom texted me not 20 minutes later that she had company.  Those little rascals.

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I also used to close my bedroom suite a night to keep the cats from standing on the stove and potentially scorching a tail or two.  In the middle of the night after the first few daytime escapes, I would hear the rattling of the door and then all of the sudden a click sound as the spring released and the door opened.

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Turns out Miss Scarlett is the brains and the brawn of this operation.  Gus doesn’t know nothin’ ‘bout nothin’.

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I have relented and let them roam the place as they please when I am gone now.  Although the other night, I had my hands full of groceries as I walked in the door and little Mr. Gus waltzed right out into the breezeway.  I shuffled groceries at lightning speed and grabbed Gus by the tail to drag him back inside.  I almost had a heart attack because there would be no catching that little booger if he got out and were beyond my reach.  Ever since, I stick my foot in the door first and Gus has learned not to stand so close. In fact, the novelty is beginning to wear off and there are times Gus and Scarlett decide it’s not worth their energy to get up from their cozy perches to welcome me home.

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I’m slowly losing control.

Y’all send reinforcement,

Sugarlump

Furball Fate

I vacuum almost every day.

And yet, my apartment is in a constant state of fuzz.

…thanks to this little guy…

…and this heifer…

Until I figure out how to make my cats self-vacuuming, I’m afraid this is my fate.

At least my cats have cute little feet.

Upon closer inspection of this photo, I noticed yet another furball lurking to the right of Gus’ foot.

Don’t give me that look.

That’s not my fur on the sofa, sir.

His furballs frustrate me, but then he gives me the puss in boots eyes.

And the intense stare-down.

And a scowl.

Sometimes I forget whose apartment this is…and thankfully my cats are here to remind me.

Y’all come back,

Sugarlump

Relax

This is Scarlett’s spot on the back of the sofa in case you couldn’t already tell.

She passes many an afternoon on her perch, watching the activity outside through the sliding door.

Sometimes she’s extremely camera-shy.

And, often, she’s quite grouchy.

When there is a bird or anything else that moves on the deck, she puts on her game face and watches it like a hawk.

Really, Scarlett, I wish you would relax and make yourself comfortable.

Please take note of her legs, particularly her back leg flung over the back of the sofa.  She’s so modest with her superman poses.

She’s annoyed that I’m talking about her like this.

But she still thinks I’m alright because I let her think she owns the place…which might not be far from the truth.

Y’all come back,

Sugarlump

A Thousand Words

I love this picture because it is so telling.  Here’s what it says:

  1. Scarlett loves shoes, especially platforms.
  2. Scarlett is too cool for school.
  3. Scarlett is thinking to herself as Gus comes into the room, “Oh, not him again.”
  4. Gus looks confused, per usual.
  5. Gus is startled by me lying on the floor.
  6. Gus is cute and innocent.
  7. Scarlett is a punk.
  8. Gus and Scarlett have a complicated relationship as half-siblings.
  9. My apartment could use new carpet and touch up work on the trim.
  10. I have too many pairs of shoes.
  11. Scarlett is plotting her next move.  And that move most likely includes stealing Q-tips from the bathroom closet.
  12. Gus is hungry and searching for someone to serve him some salmon.
  13. I find my cats very entertaining.
  14. I need to get out more.
  15. My cats are spoilt.

Okay, so that was only 139 words.  I could continue, but I think you get the picture.

Y’all come back,

Sugarlump