Monday, December 28, 2009

I'll be seeing you


Mom told us last week that our best dog friend died Dec. 20.
I know what you're thinking. Dog? Friend? Oxymoron, right? Well that's the thing. When I came home with Mom when I was four weeks old, the first dog I ever met was Simba. I was too young and naive to be afraid of him and he gave me no reason to be. So I grew up knowing dogs were friends and not the bullies you see on TV. When Meg came to live with the dogs, I taught her the same. Now she has a super bond with the remaining dog in Mom's parents' house, Lizzy.
Simba was 14. He sure did make the most of those years. He was the smartest dog I've ever met. He could sneeze on command, which, let me tell you, is really annoying if you're standing near by.
As a Sheltie-mix, Simba was good at herding. He often would try to herd the birds in the sky. That didn't work too well.
Mom found out in the fall Simba had a tumor on his heart. He was acting ill and Mom didn't think he would last long. He proved everyone wrong, though. He hung on for months just to make it easier on his family.
Here he is with the also dearly departed Ginger.

--Jazpurr

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Dont lissen. He washes yer brane.

I dont kare wat you think. Iggie is a jerk.

He comes walking into my hous and aks like he owns it, despit the
o-k-a-shunal slap in the face by me.

From the first he started hanging arowd here, I was on hiss patrol. I hissed at that son of a bichon until I was a horse. Id hid under the bed then run out and hiss at him. It didnt werk tho.

Mom and Ryan just kep loving him and negleging me. I was hert both becuz he took my home and cuz he took my Mom away.

I don't want to agree with Meg, but Iggie did get kind of mean toward the end.

I thought he was the coolest cat on earth. He was just so suave and confident. All I wanted was his attention. Then he started chasing me. I don't like to be chased.

Mom says he went to live with her dad and we'll never see him again. That's probably for the best.

Pssshhht! The best! It's fer the ossumnesst! Good riggins, Iggie jerkface.

--Jazpurr and Meg

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Hi, I'm Iggy. You'll find that I'm awesome.

What's up kitties of the world. The name's Igor Wolfgang VonFrankenstein, but the hip cats call me Iggy.
I wanted to introduce myself now that I've been hanging round the Hideabed for a while now.

To give you the DL on how I ended up "befriending" Meg and Jazpurr, I'll tell you about myself.

I was raised with a family in a house and such but was recently abandoned and wandered over to the Hideabed where I met Ryan and Rachel.

I wooed them super quick with my mad flirting skills and before they knew it I'd walked in their front door and made myself at home.

I've got a couple families on the hook this way, but Ryan and Rachel's place is the best cuz they've got the nip--they have it in pillow and leaf form. Awesome.

Those people also have cats of their own. I didn't get off on the best foot with either of them--Jazpurr was offended by my uninvited entrance and Meg, well, she hates ever cat that isn't her brother.

Jazpurr warmed up to me but not before I beat his ass one night in the apartment. Meg still hates me but I put her hissy face in its place the other night and now I rule this joint.

Despite by tough dominance in the kitty kingdom both in this apartment and out on the streets, I've got the people folk under my paw pad. All I've got to do is roll around, purr, let them pick me up and sleep and they think I'm all that.

Take my advice, stray kitties out there, be nice to the people and they'll give you whatever you want, suckers.


--Iggy

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Halloween afterthought

Here's mie haloweenie costume for dis yer. Check out my differnt exprezons. Dis one is "Nurz Meg. How can I make you feel bettr?"
Dis one is "Ward Nurz Meg. Do you want this needel in yer but or yer face!"

Take yer pik.

--Meg

Thursday, October 1, 2009

Hi, My Name is Little Kitty

What's up, kitties of the world. My name is Little Kitty. I am an adult cat of small size and questionable years.



You may remember me from such residences as the house in the woods from whence Jazpurr and Meg most recently moved.

I like long naps on the couch and am looking for a playmate who will let me chase him/her and not get POed (ahem, Meg). I'm quite a talker, so be prepared.

My latest fancy is smacking frogs around in the frog pit.
As you can see the pit, or window well if you will, is full of leaves that compliment my radical hair color. I think what I like best about the frog pit is that the frogs can't escape. Oh, they do try to hide from me, but in the end I'll find them.

Check me out in action.






Monday, August 31, 2009

Flirtfest

I thought I'd share some photos from a recent flirting session with my girlfriend Jean-Tom and her brother Cheese and Crackers.

I go out the front door just about daily to hang with them. It kind of bores me these days to be honest and I think Jean-Tom can tell. She gets testy and smacks me when I'm not paying attention to her.



I did pay attention to her but in this shot, though.


--Jazpurr

You're on Candid Camera

So Bitey McJerkface is getting big. Clearly he/she's found other fingers to feast on.




He/she's also hanging around with a new fellow I've yet to formally meet, I-Gor. He's got pink eye or something going on, but he's quite friendly, I hear.



Anyway, Bitey is quite adverse to getting anywhere near Mom since she wouldn't let him/her eat her finger, but I managed to snap these shots from the kitchen window of Bitey and I-Gor hanging out.



--Jazpurr

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

The taste of hummingbird in the afternoon

This is Flita. Flita has a friend called Flit II. They are young hummingbirds that frequent my porch. The other day I was napping on the couch when a banging sound aroused me. Lo and behold Flita was inside the apartment banging against the sliding glass door.
Of course I was on the scene instantly.

Mom shut the curtain around us to trap Flita against the door--all the better to catch her. Mom also opened the sliding door as wide as it would go--all the worse to catch her.

At some point Flita got tired and I was able to nab her to the ground.

She tasted quite buzzy.
Mom got mad at me, though and made me stop savoring the snack. I kept trying to reclaim Flita but Mom kept getting mad and shooing me away.

Eventually mom toweled Flita and set her free. Drat!

--Jazpurr

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Culinary Artist

I was helpeeng Mom make roobarb merang pie. The merange is reallie yum. I got messy.
I sit on a stool when I help Mom with the cooking. She calls me kwalitee controll.

Also I jist discuverd zookini is yum too. Also koko nut.


--Meg

Shoe Box Wars

You are banished to this box!


That's right I'm watching you.


Scroo yoo, dis is mi box!


Im waching YOO.



I can smell yor trecherie.


Tell yer gost to keep away from mi gost.


Hey, what's this?


Back up, buddie!
UNBREAKING NEWS

Jean-Tom is not full of babies anymore and we've reconcilled. She hasn't told me about any kids...so I'm guessing she ate them/gave them up for adoption.

--Jazpurr

My new friend / Alien invasion

All of a sudden the other day Mom brought something into the bathroom from outside and shut the doors. There were some scrabbling noises and then I heard some "meows".

Mom poot something in the room where my food and poopy box is and shut the door. There was noise, there was a new smell. Then alien kitten sounds.

So I said, "Hey in there. Hey, Mom, can I go in the bathroom?" So Mom let me in.
There was my new kitten!! It was on the bathroom counter kick-boxing all of the counter items into the sink.
I stayed in there even when Mom left for the store. She was worried my kitten would beat me up because its sibling bit her. I was cautious only to not scare the wee thing. It looked small and nice, but scared.
I couldn't get close enough to sniff out its gender, but it looked kind of masculine, yet girlie.

Jaz went in and wen he came out I hizzed at him.

Mom brought back a special litter box for my kitten from the store and put my box in the kitchen, along with my bowl. He-she kept talking when Mom would go in the bathroom, telling her not to mess with him-her.

Mom moved stuff and then I kood pee in the kitchen.

During the night my kitten would talk about sad things, but I wanted to stay with my Mom. The bathroom floor is hard.

That thing kipt waking me up!

Half way through the next day, Ryan closed Meg and me in the bedroom, put my kitten in a trash can and helped Mom put he-she in a cage.

We got all locked up without FOOD when Ryan put the thing in a vet transporty box. I hadn't even finished my brekfest!

My kitten is gone now, but I can still smell her every now and then behind the people toilet. Mom took pictures of him-her:

I admit she might have had an evil streak in her.

--Jazpurr & Meg

Sunday, August 2, 2009

Eat at *spew sound*

Mom found this sign on the Internet and we'd though we'd share it. When Mom told me about it she thought it was hilar that the vomit was a pile of pebbles. I decided to remind her that, indeed, at times cat vomit does look like pebbles by leaving her a few piles. She even stepped in one, which I guess is the whole purpose of the sign--to avoid that.
At any rate, I think this is a good opportunity to segue into a conversation about puking. I am quite fond of the pasttime. I do it when Mom is so kind and foolish enough to give me her leftover cereal milk, I do it after I eat plants, I do it after I eat ribbon--you know, the usual.
I also get hairballs. I rarely up chuck these as I prefer to digest them whether they like it or not. When not puking them I often get coughing fits. These make Mom fell bad for me because I make an awful noise as I get into cough pose. Ryan thinks its hilarious. Jerk.

Me on the other paw dont do much of the pyooking. My food is too precious to regerjit8. I like to keep in my belly where I kin continyoo to enjoi it.
Also I don't do the hole hairbal thing. Mom says its cuz I have majic fir. The silkie silverness of it makes it not clogging in my colon. I offen dominate Jaz by cleaning him (or do this to annoy him off Mom's lap so I kin have his spot) but his not majic fir doesnt clog me. I gess my tummies silver majic too.

--Jazpurr and Meg

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

BREAKING NEWS
Jean-Tom is freakin' preggers again by her brother. I think maybe we should break up.
--Jaz

I want a kitten

During the last two weeks while sitting in my kitchen window watching and talking with dumpster cats, I noticed a new addition: kittens. I discovered three kittens, two of which came up to our front porch, and a trepidatious mom. The kittens looked to be about a month old then, and so are about 6 weeks old now. They are stripey like me, but more brown than me. Also they're adorable and I want one.
More recently the mom is out of the picture and one kitten hangs out by itself or with the dumpster cats and the other is being raised by Coonie.
Yesterday Mom was using me as bait to lure one of the kittens for capturing. She kept sending me out the front door to try to make friends. It didn't quite work.
This morning, however, I was out on the front porch with Cheese and Crackers, Jean Tom and a kitten. Mom was able to sneak up on the kitten and grabbed it.
She brought it inside but it chowed down on her finger so she told it it had to leave. :(
I want a kitten.
Meg did not like the kitten. She hissed and fluffed her tail. She's always doing that. Drama queen.
I hope Mom will try again to catch me a kitten. She said I couldn't keep it always, though. Still, I like making friends.
--Jazpurr

I believe they can fly now

A couple months ago I started noteising some commotion in a levatating flower pot on my porch. Lots of cherping and movement above mie hed.
So I took it upon myself to moniter the pot all hours of the day Mom let me be outside.
Mom started taking pictures of what was going on. I don't no what the round things are ....

but eventully they got replaced with tiny fluffs...
and then with scary monsters...
and then with noisy yums.
They are gone now tho. Mom thinks they flew away last weekend. She said they were called Hows Finchs.
She also said the flower pot was filled with bird poopies.

--Meg

Thursday, July 2, 2009

Ear wigging out

You won't beleeve what happened today!
I was in the bathroom with Mom when we both saw a bug by the tub. I went rite for it guess what?! The ear wig's but pinched me on the nose! It made me sneeze.
What nerv!
It doesn't show, but boy wat a jerk.
Earwigamus jerkamus
Megamoose byootius gorgeus noosle

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Catnip Pillow High

Mom and Ryan just got back from eight days of being away from us. I'm cool to not have Ryan around, but it sucks not having Mom here. Mom's cousin Sara visited with us every day. She played with us and kept us fed.
When Mom returned, she did bring back something that made it all worthwhile: a new catnip pillow.
This would be our third pillow of this sort. It's a nice, soft cylinder of cotton and nip. It's the perfect length for hugging and kicking.
Meg, who is more gentle with the pillow than I am, demonstrates its potent powers:


--Jazpurr

Thursday, May 28, 2009

Your love makes me want to run


This is my girlfriend, Jean Tom. The camera doesn't capture her crossed eyes. Her two brothers are eating beside her.

She likes naps on the porch and kissing me. It's going really well. We want to move in together -- or out together -- but Mom won't allow either. Geez. She's ruining my love life!


I do have a tendency to leave the homestead when Jean-Tom is around. There's something about her that makes me want to flee. I just want to explore her home -- the outside.

--Jazpurr

A visit to Driptown

Jist about evry morning after Mom uses the water box I spend some alon time in the box.
I like to watch the drips do there thing. They are only there after mom uses the box, so I'm sure to git in there sometimes before Mom is out. I offen monitoor her progress in the box thru the see thru curtin. I sit on the ledge and sometims Jazpurr tries to push me in. It's wet in there so its no good.
Also I like the feel of the wet box floor on my but.
--Meg

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

My Skating Figure

I've heard talk of some kind of Derby lately and I can only assume they're talking about the Roller Derby. I must get back into skate form.

--Meg

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

You must remember this, a cross-eyed kiss is still a kiss

I've got a girlfriend! Well, that is, I know I said Jean-Tom was my girlfriend before now, but it's official--she kissed me.
So the other day Jean-Tom was outside my door getting some dinner from Mom. Mom let me go out the door and I was so cool. I just casually was checking out the porch and I was like "hey." She didn't audibly respond, but she looked at me and I could see what she wanted to say in those golden crossed eyes: "hey."
So then Meg started hissing at her from inside and totally killed the mood so Jean-Tom left and I returned inside, but whined at Mom to let me back out.

Later that day...
Jean-Tom was back for more food. The sun had set and the moon was a glow around her. Ahhhh.
Anyway, Mom let me go outside again. This time I was more confident. I walked right up to her and we compared nose smells. Then, she rubbed her face against mine. Wowza! But then I was like, hey, I'm the man here, I'm supposed to make the first move.
So I opened my mouth like I was hissing at her but without the sound. I did this so she would do the same and I could see how old she is by her teeth. She's younger than me. Not a problem.
So then we started walking down the porch and I decided I wanted to see what her world is like and headed down the steps. At that point Mom freaked out and chased after me. I made it to the front sidewalk before I decided this might not be a good idea. I was promptly chased inside and spanked.

New development...
This morning Jean-Tom and her brothers were eating breakfast and Mom opened the door for me. I didn't want to go out because I'd rather hang with Jean-Tom when her bros aren't around.
Anyway, Cheese and Crackers -- Jean-Tom's brother and former lover/baby daddy -- gave me the once over and voiced approval. We compared nose smells and then he made some horrible talking noises and tried to come inside. I hissed at him a couple times because I didn't really want him entering my home.

So it's official. I've got brotherly consent to date Jean-Tom. Hopefully she'll give me a photo to post here for your enjoyment.

--Jazpurr

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

The passing of the wise one

A good friend of mine died last week. Reilly Jo Reilly died Monday, April 13, after complications from a possible blood clot. He would have been 11 next month.
Reilly was Mom's first son, my half brother. He went by many names. You might have known him as:
  • Roo Kaboo
  • Rooley
  • Buddah
  • Joyce
  • Morbidly Obese

Nevertheless, Riley taught me about my Mom when I was just a wee pup. Here are some photos.

This is Riley kicking me in the face.
This is me saying, "hey, quit kicking me in the face."
Reilly was a friendly sight when I returned to the wooded home. He was the most peaceful and loving cat I've ever known. I only wish I could be that open. He feared nothing because he believed everyone loved him--and they did.
I liked to hiss at Riley because he was bigger than I could make myself look. No one intimidates Blue Steel.
He was the mascot of Lacey's Landing barn. He was black and white and loved all over.

--Jazpurr and Meg

Skinny Jean-Mom

Jean-Tom isn't preggy no more. She's dropped the kitten weight. She wasn't coming around much, only on occaision to fuel up at the cat food filling station Mom has for the dumpstees outside our front door.
The other day Mom had the door open and I was watching Jean-Tom and Cheese and Crackers (the baby daddy). She was all looking at me and rubbing on him all lovey dovey. Pshht. Like I need her. Stupid girlfriend.
More recently we started noticing Jean-Tom coming around more with her brothers for handouts and she has yet to bring her kits with her.
Mom says they probably died, what with them being all inbred and probably cross-eyed like their mum.

Ryan said she probably ated them. I would never eated my foil ball and milk ring babies. They make me sad howl when they stop moving. I wood howsever carry them around in my mouth and kick them around like soccer.

Meg, this is my post! I'm trying to talk about serious stuff here. Geezie cheese.
I'm sad my girlfriend's babies died or didn't like her and ran away, but I'm glad she doesn't have to be tied to that Cheese and Crackers chump raising the kits.
Mayhap she will be mine at last!

--Jazpurr and Meg (Son of a bichon, Meg! Get out of my post!)

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

My Girlfriend Got Knocked Up By Her Brother

That is to say, her brother got her pregnant before I could make her my girlfriend.
A while ago I was looking out the kitchen window at the dumpster cats chowing down and Mom said, "I bet you could find a girlfriend out there."
What with Peter Nincompoop kidnapped and all, Jean-Tom is the only girl left out there. Too bad she's full of belly fruit.
I suspect Cheese and Crackers is the father. They've been spending a lot of time together.
Needless to say I am heartbroken!
The only other female who frequents my front door is Coonie, but I'm weirded out by her dexterous fingers.
I'm 5 years old. It's getting pretty lame spending all my time with my dopey sister.
Perhaps I should try online dating, like mew-harmony or CATch.com.

--Jazpurr

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Saturday, March 7, 2009

The Curious Case of Kidnapped Kitties (Part 2)

TRUE CRIME TALE BY MEGALOPOLI CONURBATION MUSSOLINI; EDITED BY AN EXTERNAL SOURCE
6:42 p.m. Friday, March 6: The suspect made another hasty arrival and retreat from her residence in the Hideabed complex. During my undercover work I was able to deduce the suspect would be returning to the Condit Road address this night where I believed the victims to be held captive.
I stowed away in the suspect's vehicle and tracked her to the Condit Road home. I was able to enter the home undiscovered where I viewed the suspect, the victims and a second suspect I later determined to be the primary suspect's mother.
The victims were kept in a large cage containing food, water and waste containers. The victim known as Cat had himself pressed into the corner of the cage. The victim known as Peter Nincompoop, however, was friendly toward her captors.

I feared Stockholm Syndrome had taken Peter, so I watched her movements.
Peter would leave the cage and socialize with her catnappers. She would, however, defend herself against the two dogs on site.
Peter proceeded to spend the evening in front of the TV on the floor with the suspects. She purred and licked suspect #1 and accepted petting from all present, including a male subject whom I do not believe to be a suspect at this time.
During my study of Peter I discovered her belly had been shaved and a wound sustained.
I was able to talk with Peter in a hidden area between the couch and the wall. When I asked her what had transpired, she said she did not remember.

Cat, however, did remember.
After watching Peter for several hours I found Cat had hidden himself behind a bathroom door in the same room as his cage. He was apprehensive about talking to me, but I persuaded him to open up.

"This other lady--she took us to some other place that smelled funny, like
animals," he said. "They caged us up, and then someone pinched me and I fell
asleep. When I woke I was drousy and felt less like a man."
Cat wasn't willing to elaborate, but I knew what he meant--he'd had The Fix.
Come 10:02 p.m., suspect #1 was forcing Cat into the small cage used to transport him to this locale, but unlike how he arrived, Cat left alone. Peter was returned to the large cage.
I once again stashed myself in the suspect's vehicle. Upon return to the Hideabed, the suspect carried the cage to her front door and opened it.
Cat ran from the cage and jumped off the second-story balcony, running out of sight before I could see where he'd gone.
This action by the suspect might have voided one catnapping, but another still remains.

I used the Snifmaster to test the cage for evidence I could use in this case. If only Peter will press charges.

Monday, March 2, 2009

The Curious Case of a Kitty Kidnapping?

TRUE CRIME TALE BY MEGALOPOLI CONURBATION MUSSOLINI; EDITED BY AN EXTERNAL SOURCE
The bathroom was amiss, but I had assumed as much. The penguin rug was out of place; the contents of the counter scattered about.

It was a crime scene.

I, Detective Megalopoli Mussolini, had been called to the scene at an apartment of the Hideabed complex on the south side of town at 7 p.m. Sunday, March 1. Two felines, approximately 1.5 years of age, had been kidnapped shortly before.
At roughly 6:32 p.m. that day, the primary witness, one Jazpurr Higgins, reported an unknown victim entered the apartment through an open front door. Upon setting foot inside the residence, the large, orange cat was grabbed by the waist by the suspect who then tossed the victim into the bathroom of the residence.
Moments later a second, small, orange cat was also snatched up by the suspect and forced into the bathroom of the residence.

The suspect is a dark-haired human known only as "Mom" by one of the witnesses and as "That Lady Who Feeds Us" by several others.

Three witnesses were outside the front door of the residence when the cats were seized.
One, Hot Waffles, said he was new to the area and knew nothing of who the victims or suspect are. The other two, who identified themselves only as Jean-Tom and Cheese and Crackers, identified the larger of the two victims as "Cat," the smaller as "Peter Nincompoop," their brother and sister.
Waffles, Tom and Crackers were able to corroborate Mr. Higgins' account of the initial events.

"The cats were in the bathroom, and I could hear moaning and screaming that was terribly unpleasant," Higgins said. "Mom came out of the bathroom and grabbed the cat cage and an old towel from the bedroom while I watched. Then she went back into the bathroom and I heard a horrible commotion.

Within minutes the suspect left the residence with the cage. All witnesses related hearing what sounded like the victims crying from within the cage.

"She put the cage in the car and left before we knew what happened," Tom said. "We were just trying to eat some dinner."

Once on the scene I was able to determine the suspect had lured both the victims and the three outdoor witnesses to the apartment with bowls of "Alley Cat" cat food. Witnesses were still chowing down upon my arrival. They were apprehensive about talking with a cop, but Greenies loosened their tongues.

"We've seen dis lady around plenty," Crackers said. "She puts out the food and we eats it. Sometimes she lets us take a peek inside dah place."

I made my way to the bathroom. I utilized a piece of equipment, known as my nose, to verify the victims had indeed been held captive in the room. I had the CSI squad process the scene while I drilled Higgins.

"She was barely here 15 minutes," he said. "She came in, put the food out for the dumpster cats and made a phone call. Next thing I know she's got the two in the bathroom, makes another call, she dumps dinner in my bowl and takes off with the cage."

I asked whom the suspect would have telephoned.

"It sounded like she was talking to her mother," he said. "She was asking if she should take those cats."

This was beginning to sound like a premeditated act.
"Where would she have taken them," I asked him.

"We used to live at this house in the woods--that's where her mother is," he said. "It's the only other place I know besides here."

I was able to determine the home was situated on Condit Road about 20 miles from the scene.
Area police recall seeing the suspect's vehicle with Ohio Licence "NEWSIES" travelling north along Sunbury Road--one of several possible routes to the Condit Road destination.
About 10 p.m. that night, the suspect returned to the apartment. Unable to reach the pedal in a car, I opted to remain undercover as the suspect's pet and await the next opportunity to follow her to the Condit Road residence.
Meanwhile, the case remains open.

Monday, February 23, 2009

Playing Make Believe

I FANCY MYSELF ... a dunce.
I FANCY MYSELF ... a duck.
I FANCY MYSELF ... a plastic bag.
I FANCY MYSELF ... in jail.
I FANCIED MYSELF ... adrift on a choral raft.
I FANCY MYSELF ... a shoe.
I FANCY MYSELF ... a skunk.
I FANCY MYSELF ... tough.
I FANCY MYSELF ... a ball of yarn.
I FANCY MYSELF ... an adorable humidifier.


--Meg