Question from the mom

Hi, I'm hijacking the blog today to ask if any of you cat parents have seen this behavior before.  

A (hopefully) quick summary of the household.  There are currently 2 girl kitties living here with me.  Fuzzy is 15ish and has been here since 1996.  Zoe is 4 1/2 and has been here almost 1 year.  They are both very comfortable around each other, but they aren't besties.  There is no touching except when they play tag - no grooming or snuggling.  Obviously, Zoe has way more energy than Fuzzy, but she isn't overbearing (most times).

Last week, Zoe started chittering at Fuzzy.  Just like a normal cat would at a bird or a squirrel.  I have never claimed that Zoe is normal.  She is the craziest, weirdest acting cat that I've ever shared a home with.  I don't think that Zoe is stalking Fuzzy - Fuzzy has been stalked by housemates (Snuggles, bad boy) in the past, and she's not acting at all like she did back then.  But it's just so bizarre.  

My first instinct is not to worry about this, that Zoe is just being a nutball.  But a little part of me worries that this may be a bad sign, so I thought I'd check with others.  Have any of you seen anything like this before?

One Word Wednesday

HI!

Toes, Tongue, Tummy Tuesday

 

Here is my tummy, some toes, and part of my tail.

 And here is MY tummy, my toes (with toehawks), and my tongue!

And here is more of my tummy!

Easy Like Sunday

Today we're going to chill out.  Our mom played featherwandmonster with Zoe for a long time yesterday, so hopefully she'll be tired all day today.  There should be no yelling at the boys playing feetsball on the television, so maybe I can actually get my 20 hours of sleep, too.  For those of you who are subjected to pawrents who watch college football, you have my sympathies.  If I don't hear "Boomer Sooner" again this year, I'd be a happy cat. 

Have an easy Sunday, friends!

Saturday Chat

 

OMC, Fuzzy, did you hear that??

Yes, Zoe, I'm sure most cats heard that.

What was it??

Mom is mad because her car is broked again.  Same thing that broked a few months ago.  And she is furious.

Oh no!  What will we do for food?  What if we run out of litter?  What if we run out of TOYS???

Good grief, stop being such a drama queen.  We have plenty of food, treats, water, litter, toys, and everything else our little kitty hearts desire.  All this means is that Mom cannot abandon us to go visit her dad or go eat with friends or go to the lake like she had planned on doing.  She's stuck here with us.  At least until Monday.

She can't leave??  She has to stay home??  SCORE!!!

Thursday is for TOYS!

Wow, kitties, you all are super awesome!  Before I show you my toys, I have to show you something else.  You all were very worried that I scratched on my mom's chair because I didn't have a scratching post.  Well...

I do have this scratching post that she bought us from CSN after seeing a review on Jan's Funny Farm of their CSN tree.  (hey, why is Fuzzy in my picture??)  I also have these upstairs:

I only scratch on the chair my mom is sitting in to get her attention.  And guess what?  I found out that Fuzzy was telling a fib - my mom does NOT believe in depawing.  Since so many of my new friends were so afraid for my poor pawsies, now Fuzzy is in trouble for being Bad!  haha, take that, Fuzzy!

Anyway, my TOYS!  First, I'm going to show you my upstairs toys.

 

None of these are too exciting, except maybe the orange puff or the orange octopus.  I don't play with any of these often - I don't  know how they end up all over the place.

Next, my downstairs toys:

Most of these are lousy toys, too, that I never play with.  The rainbow mousie at the bottom was my first favorite toy.  It was in a goody bag that the shelter sent home with my mom when she adopted me.  It rattles, and I brought it up to my mom at about 2 a.m. on my first night here.  She made sure to thank them for sending home toys that make noise.

These next guys are MY FAVORITES!

The one on the left is the Original Mousie.  I LOVE that guy!  I brought him to my mom very early one morning so she could take it off of the cardboard thing it came on.  (Mom note: it was about 5 a.m.)  I played with it every day.  I brought it downstairs during the day, and I brought it upstairs at night.  One day, he went missing.  When mom finally noticed, we both searched high and low for it, but it was just gone.  I sent her out on a mission to search all of northeast Oklahoma for a new one.  She finally found one (Replacement Mousie on the right), and I was a happy girl again.  Then, Original Mousie showed back up.  It's a lot of work to take care of both of them, and sometimes they don't both make it back up to the top of the stairs at night, but when they do, I call loudly for my mom so she will know that I'm very responsible and look after my mousies very good. (another Mom note:  this is almost always about 30 minutes - 2 hours after I have gone to bed) 

The last toy is probably a favorite to every cat.

(Holy crap, Mom, you take terrible pictures).  My feather wand!  I drag it upstairs sometimes, too, but when Mom sees it in the mornings, she says "Zoe, I've already told you, this is a downstairs toy!", and she takes it back downstairs.  Whatever, Mom!  She has never seen (or heard) me sneak this toy upstairs - I know how to do it without jingling the bell! 

We actually have about a jillion other toys, but these were the ones that were easiest to gather up.  Thanks for coming to visit me!

Bummed on Wednesday

I'm so bummed out.  My mom PROMISED that I could do a post today about my favorite toys.  But I got in trouble, so today cannot be about my toys.  Instead, I have to tell you about why I am Bad.

I like to dig.  Everywhere, all the time, dig Dig DIG!  I dig to China in my litter box (which I do not get in trouble for).  When I jump into my mom's lap, I start out making biscuits, but the next think you know, I am digging away at the blanket in her lap.  I sit on the edge of the chair, and I start digging at it.  When I jump up on the bed, I dig at the covers.  I dig at the table beside the glass before I drink my mom's water (I don't get in trouble for that either - she just says I'm weird).  And now I have started scratching on the chair - that's not really digging, but it was what pushed her over the edge.

Fuzzy said our mom does not believe in declawing, but she does believe in depawing... She said that if I don't quit digging and scratching, she'll take me the the vet and have my paws removed!!!  YIKES!  I'm going to start being a Good Girl!! 

I guess it's extra punishment that the picture she posted shows a very big furchin.  :(

Thank Yous on Tuesday

We know that Thursdays are supposed to be the Thankful days, but I just couldn't wait that long.  I felt it would be rude not to give a huge THANK YOU to all of you who have stopped by to visit us and to leave comments.  You've all been so very kind to us!  We feel like we know some of you very well since we've been reading blogs for a while now, so it's super cool to have YOU visit US!

This is an older picture of me.  You can tell because of 2 things:  I don't play with this feather wand anymore and I'm a little ummm... portly.  The boys had to eat special kidney foods, and since I was a senior kitty also, the vet said it didn't hurt for me to eat it.  It plumped me right up, which he said was not surprising.  Now that it's just me and the rugrat, we aren't eating kidney foods and the weight dropped right off me.  Now my mom thinks I'm getting a little too thin for her taste, so I'll probably have a wellness exam soon.  No fair, I say, since I have already had one this year.  But since kitties age way faster than humans, my old vet actually suggested wellness exams twice a year for seniors.  Nuts.

Snuggles

Well, it's time to introduce The Ones Who Came Before.  I hated them both, and Zoe never knew them, so we'll turn the blog over to our mom.

Thank you, Miss Fuzz.  I grew up with cats.  I can't remember a time where we didn't have at least 1 cat at home.  So when I went off to college, I really missed them.  My junior year, I got my own apartment, and shortly after I decided I just had to have a cat.  And it had to be a black one.  Now, I was poor, so I was hoping to find someone giving away free cats.  I found someone in the local newspaper giving away free kittens - and they were black!!  I called the number listed and made arrangements to go see them.  It turns out that I kind of knew the guy who was giving them away - he was a minister, and he frequented the gas station where I was working part time.  I took some time and played with all of the kittens and the mama cat, and I picked one out and took him home.  What on earth possessed me to name him Snuggles?  I can't remember. 

He was a great cat in a lot of ways.  He loved people - especially people who didn't like cats.  He greeted everyone, and he wanted to sit in anyone's lap - he wasn't very picky.  He loved to be picked up and carried around.  He loved to give kisses.  And he could be so easy going.  I woke up more than once to find I was using him as a pillow. But he was very high maintenance.  He had to have you in his sight at all times - and you had to be able to see him also.  Every so often he would let out a 'mew' so you would look at him.  If you didn't, he would keep doing it until you finally gave in.  

I was so attached to him.  As you can imagine, my life went through a lot of changes while I had him, since I got him when I was 20.  We moved from his home in San Angelo, Texas to Bryan, Texas, Oklahoma City, Tulsa, and finally Bartlesville (with a few moves in between).  He was the one constant in my life (along with Zachary, who I'll save for another post) through the moves, the jobs, the boyfriends, and every drama that a 20-39 year old goes through.  So there were many times that I was very appreciative of his snuggly nature.

His nickname was Butch... because he wasn't always snuggly.  He was a biter, and he played very rough.  During his younger years I used to let him outside.  He was very aggressive towards other animals, and I had to haul him to the vet a couple of times to clean up wounds.  Which brings up another point - the vet.  He hated them.  They brought out the thick leather gloves when he made a visit.  He was also a very bad cat.  He had a habit of finding very inappropriate places to relieve his bowels and empty his bladder.  He shredded every piece of furniture I've ever owned.  He meowed in the middle of the night, almost every night, very loudly.  But I sure loved that cat. 

He developed kidney problems when he was 13 or so as well as arthritis.  Over the next few years, he would have periods of time where he was very sick, and he lost some weight, but meds and IV fluids would bring him around.  About this time last year, he got very sick - the worst I had seen him.  And his breath was horrible - I thought he had more bad teeth that needed to be taken out.  But the vet said that his kidneys were almost shot, and he could also feel a mass in his abdomen that he thought was probably cancer in his pancreas.  Because of his age (he was 18 1/2) and his advanced kidney problems, we decided not to do anything about the mass.  The vet assured me he wasn't in any pain, and we decided to try some IV fluids for a few days to see if we could get his kidneys working better.  This didn't do much good, and 2 weeks after his bad troubles began, I made the decision to have him put to sleep.  As I write this, I can hardly believe it's almost been a year since he's been gone.

I'm pretty sure he's still here with me, as I see Zoe taking on more and more of his characteristics.  When she's chattering to herself at 1 a.m., it looks like she's talking to her mice, but now I'm convinced she's talking to Snuggles.  

 

We're Going Live...

Hello, World.  Well, our intros are done, so my mom decided to go ahead and try to make a go of things.  She's been very slow getting things going, and she still doesn't have many pictures (and she's a really bad photographer), but we're going to march forward!

So, why do we want to blog?  Well, our mom has been lurking in the Cat Blogosphere for about 3 years now.  She has only made a handful of comments on a few blogs, but she has participated in raffles in the past and has bought items from the CB staples such as Forty Paws and Artsy Catsy.  When it was time to adopt a new kittie, she reached out to the mom's of Daisy the Curly Cat and Skeezix for advice on what kind of cat to look for to make life easy for me (since I'm no kitten, you know).  And you know what?  Even though they didn't know my mom, they both took the time out of their busy lives to answer her emails and to give wise advice.  That was so very nice of them. 

The CB is a very nice community and it would be nice to be a part of it.  But another reason to blog is like we listed in our first post - having a written and photo journal of what's going on in our lives should be very helpful for when things go wrong.  Sometimes changes in our appearance or behavior happens so gradually that it goes pretty much unnoticed.  Our mom hopes that by having history to look back on (instead of going by memory) will help identify quicker when things aren't quite right. 

We don't know how often we'll post - probably not every day, but hopefully several times a week.  Thank you for stopping by our new home!!

I'm Zoe!

It's my turn to introduce myself!  I'm Zoe!  I'm 4 years old, and I'm very floofy and beautiful!

Zoe, stop that or you can't blog anymore.

Stop what, Fuzzy?  I'm introducing myself - you got to introduce yourself first, now it's my turn!

Stop saying that you're beautiful - it's very rude, and anyone reading our blog will think we are not Good Girls and won't come visit us anymore.

Why can't I say I'm beautiful?  Everyone else says it - I'm just telling the people-

Zoe, people can figure out for themselves whether they think you are beautiful or not - you don't have to tell them.  Now, get back to your blogging, but I'll be watching you...

OK, Fuzzy! 

*Ahem* Hi, I'm Zoe and I'm 4 years old.  I'm a floofy orange GIRL!!!  I love to play with toys and I also love to talk!  I have a lot to say.  

My mom adopted me from The Animal Rescue Foundation of Bartlesville in October, 2009, after she had to say goodbye to Snuggles, one of the Ones Who Came Before.  She was nervous about getting a new cat because she still had Fuzzy, and Fuzzy had been terrorized tortured unhappy living with the 2 boys.  She heard about ARF from a co-worker who told her that they wanted you to return any animal you adopt from them that doesn't work out.  Now, my mom does NOT think that pets are disposable, but she also didn't want to make Fuzzy miserable, so this made her feel a little better about things.  Anyway, she can tell you all about that stuff later - this is about ME!  I was brought to ARF with my sister (Frito) in March 2006 when we were about 3 weeks old.  A nice guy (who, it turns out, is my VET!) found us freezing and alone, so he took us to the shelter.  They at first wanted my sister and I to be adopted together, but they found out eventually that we weren't that bonded, so when someone wanted to adopt my sister, they decided it was ok. 

When my mom came into ARF to meet all of their kitties, she didn't even see me at first!  But then, after she talked to the ladies and told her about Fuzzy and her home, one of them thought about me!  So they dragged me out of my hidey hole and put me on a bench next to my not-yet-mom.  She pet me and couldn't get over how soft my fur was!  They told her that the other cats at ARF didn't like me a whole lot - they always bopped me on the head.  But they also told her what a very Good Girl I was and that I never picked on anyone (aside from bopping the kittens from time to time, but that's not really bad).  My mom left, but then a few days later she came and picked me up and took me home!!  After 3 1/2 years at ARF, I finally had a Forever Home.

It took a while to get adjusted.  I had never seen stairs, a bathtub, a bed - it was a lot to take in!  Fuzzy and I get along pretty well - we play chase sometimes, but mostly we just ignore each other.  She's boxed my ears a couple of times, but I guess I deserved it.  I love Fancy Feast, Forty Paws Ham-Micks, all of my toy mice, feather wands, and... oh gosh, I just love everything!

Guess what else?  My name wasn't always Zoe!  You can probably guess since my less-floofy orange sister was named Frito, I was named Cheeto!  But my mom didn't think I was a Cheeto.  After a few weeks, when I started to settle in, I was living it up!  I wanted to play all of the time, I wanted to talk all of the time, and I wanted my mom's attention - NOW!  She started calling me Little Orange Monster.  She had been thinking and thinking of what my name was, and it finally occurred to her that there was a cute little orange monster on Sesame Street, so she looked it up.  Her name is Zoe, and she is 3 years old - just like I was!  So, my name became Zoe.  

My mom said that's enough for now.  Bye!

I am The Fuzz

Hello, new friends, my name is Fuzzy, and I am finally the oldest cat in the home.  I am very special because I am the only cat who has ever picked my mom.  See, a very long time ago, my mom lived in a duplex with 2 boy cats, and she used to let them play outside.  She would open up a door or a window so they could go in and out, and one day I waited until she did this and I marched right on in.  I looked her in the eye and said "hello, lady, I'm hungry and thirsty.  I'm going to eat and have a drink, and then I'd like to take a nap".  So I filled my belly and quenched my thirst and then I jumped up on the back of the couch, curled up, smiled at her, and fell asleep purring.  She put me out at night, and we continued this ritual for a while.  She was convinced I already had a home, until....

One night after she put me out, she heard me singing.  She ran to the door and called for me to come inside.  She said "oh no, little missy, no kittens for you!".  The next day she had an appointment for me to get all fixed up, and the rest is history!  That was in March of 1996 - a very long time ago!  The vet said I was 6 months to 1 1/2 years old, so she split the middle and calls my birthday March 15, 1995 - one year before my gotcha day.

Guess what else?  My name didn't used to be Fuzzy.  When she took me to the vet, she had no idea what my name was.  My mom is kind of a dork, and she was really into Animaniacs (yes, the cartoon, and yes, she was an adult), and she said I was so cute that she named me Dot, after the cute girl in the cartoon.  But she never ever called me Dot - she always called me "Little Fuzzy Girl".  After I had been an inside cat for a while, I lost my thick fuzzy coat and no one really gets why my name is Fuzzy, but me and my mom know, and that's all that matters.

There is so much more to tell about me and the Ones Who Came Before and also my little sister, but I'll save it all for another day.