Red Alert!

Big Ed took out the trash this evening. He came back in and said that he had just seen another toad hop inside the house. He scooped up a fascinated Mew and said that he would shut her in another room while I got the toad out.

Not being the official toad wrangler, I, personally, put the cat in another room and asked J to help Big Ed find the intruder and evict it. By the time I came back from imprisoning the indignant cat, they were ushering a toad outside with a broom and laughing about it.

This was a more kind fate than the last one met up with. If I meet it face to face, it's in real trouble.

Calling all fans 'cept the cat . . .

Everyone in our house, with the possible exception of Mew, is looking forward to seven p.m., when the next-to-last pre-season game for the Dolphins begins. I except Mew because she objects, occasionally, to raging cheers from the onlookers.

She makes her objections known by leaping off her pedestal (yes, she has one) and making her way to another, more quiet, room. Just because it is pre-season does not signify that there will not be cheering.

Or loud groans, if called for . . .

Down, take cover . . .

We were watching a marathon presentation of The Civil War yesterday evening and had just reached a reenactment of the Battle of Gettysburg. As the battle progressed on the screen, our neighborhood began to chime in with fireworks outside. It sounded as if we were also under attack from all sides.

Mew came flying around the corner and down the hall as fast as she could go - all the while remaining low to the ground to avoid incoming rounds. I am sure she thought she saw tracer fire.

I'm not sure I didn't, too . . .

A few Catku . . .

Someone tripped and fell,
Catching himself on the bed.
Mew tried the window.

If window is shut,
Can panicky cat get out?
Not in this lifetime.


Outside, a wild cat,
Shaking his tail at the fern,
Was marking his place.

Field mice running free,
Over our daily Herald,
Were grist for that cat.

There is faithful and then there is un-

Sshhhh! I don't want Mew to get wind of this but I fed someone else's cats today. One of them was so happy to see me that he brushed hard against my ankle as I was making his food.

The way that Mew inspected that ankle when I got home? I think she already knows.

The crock pot is set to finish cooking at 5 p.m. It is currently early afternoon. Have you ever heard a better reason for a nap?

The crossword is done and so am I. The cat is doing what I aspire to do. Her yawns look as though her head is split in half. My yawns only feel that way.

I have about enough attention span left to finish my book. Then . . . zzzz

What'll y' have?

The image above is all about being safe: bags packed in case a quick getaway becomes necessary; umbrella at the ready in case of an indoor shower; looking sleepy while being totally alert

May your New Year's celebrations be equally safe. Y'all have a:

HAPPEH NEW YEAH!!!

(She's a southern cat.)

Crack and the kitty . . .

We used to keep Werther's candy in the house more frequently than we do now. And, occasionally, we used to find one with the wrapper torn off and the candy sticking to the floor. We finally identified the guilty suspect by catching her furry self in the act of thievery. She had torn apart a whole, unopened package which I can tell you is difficult.

Once a year at Christmas, we buy a package. This year, I forgot to do it until today when, in the pharmacy, I was lured to the candy aisle. They put those pharmacists in the rear just so we have to stroll past the good stuff to get there.

Mew had not forgot about her kitty crack.We hold it for her so she doesn't carry it off somewhere and stick it to the floor. Her tongue should be tired after this:

Reflective . . .

For a while, life is not as fast moving as it was just before T-giving. There is time to reflect. Time to savor the gracious life.

Okay, that's enough savoring. Time to gear up for Christmas. Twenty minutes between holidays is all the down-time we will get.

Two major family-gathering events weighted at the tag end of the year is just poor planning. One would think the Pilgrims might have been thankful in, say, late September. That's after the harvest, isn't it? What were they thinking?

The only household member who has any leisure wants to play with her bird toy. And now, please. Da Bird is her new obsession. Mew is on her third refill of feathers for it.

It's such a gracious and reflective gesture for Pet Supermarket to have sent us those $5 coupons . . .

Camry express . . .

I must plan a campaign. The library is holding five books for me to come and collect. We are almost out of paper towels and need black, plus color, ink cartridges for the printers.

We have in hand, a $5 coupon for Pet Supermarket which Mew demands we put toward toys for her use. We are on our last bag of cat food. I used up all of the apple cider vinegar. I saw an ant on the counter so it's time for new Combat to be put out for them.

The front yard needs mowing. No, that one is on BigEd's list.

Thank Heaven . . .

Mew waiting . . .

BigEd has gone upstate with friends for the weekend. They left yesterday and Mew was in the back bedroom asleep when the luggage left the house. She was unsettled by its appearance when he pulled it out of the closet. She knows when those close-able, fancy boxes get filled with stuff that they mean change is coming.

She misses BigEd and has been just inside of the front door Saturday, curled up and waiting for him to come back.

It's not only dogs who are faithful . . .

Da what?

Our nearby Blockbuster Video rental store was replaced by a Pet Supermarket. We are not too happy over the switch but Mew is ecstatic. You see, because I asked about it, they now stock Da Bird.

It is a cat toy that mimics the flutter of bird wings as it swoops through the air. She absolutely loves it and has lost at least six ounces of weight due to increased exercise.

Now, I have to admit that for the first two days, I did not realize it had a string which was wrapped around the whippy wand. I was merrily waving the wand around and she was chasing it just fine. Then I realized there was a navy blue string wrapped around the navy blue wand and secured by a navy blue piece of tape. When I undid the tape, the (excuse me) da bird was liberated to fly. Now we are doing feline ballet and human wand wielding in sync.

Much better . . .

Outta the way . . .

Mew is nine-and-three-quarters years old. She seems a bit less active than she used to be but not by much. She still plays tag. By her rules you are almost always *it*. If you hide and peek, she will chase you although she will run for a short distance if you *fluff* yourself at her.

Yesterday, she demonstrated how easily she can recover the steps we thought she may have lost. It wasn't raining. Yet. Seemingly out of nowhere a crack of thunder hit. This was immediately followed by an orange and white blur which may or may not have been using its feet to move. We couldn't tell, it went by so fast.

Our orange and white middle-aged cat was heading for sanctuary. Lose a step? Not when its thundering . . .

She must use a pocket watch . . .

We are now doing Mew's mouth irrigation three times a week. We moved it to mornings instead of evenings so we could get it over with, for the day. That way, she doesn't have all day to dread the procedure. Believe me, she knows when the appointed day arrives. She keeps her calendar with more regularity than we do our own.

Routine is paramount with her. One could set a watch by her eleven a.m. morning nap.

Funny thing. After a week or so, she adjusts to the time change when we move away from standard time or back to standard.

I am sure that, for a while there, she thinks our watches are broken . . .

Oo-oo-oh, it's magic . . .

Mew has always been absolutely sure that if she could just get both front paws on the knob, any door would magically open for her. Here she is seen, after finally achieving her fondest objective, peering at the upper corner of the door to watch for the first widening of the seam.

Mew remained here, hopefully, for some time before uttering a bitter cry and giving up. She finally realized.

She doesn't know the magic words . . .

Here today . .

Occasionally, a house-fly gets, inside. And on those occasions, I can usually swat the intruder using a diversionary technique. When the intended prey lights, I hold the deadly swatter in my right hand and stick my left out to the side (or up, depending). Then, I wiggle the fingers of the left hand like the legs (in my imagination, anyway) of a web-challenged spider.

See, I know that flies have much faster reaction time than I do. But, they don't divide their attention very well. My technique forces them to try and while they are trying, the deadly right hand acts.

Usually. This morning, Mew was staring intently at a dining chair's back. When I asked her what she was doing, she glanced quickly at me and then resumed her stare. Moving closer, I could see a fly that had been elusive since yesterday. Grabbing the swatter from its hook, I went into my act. Between my twitching fingers and Mew's twitching whiskers, it was truly distracted.

It took two of us to hunt this one down. Cooperation between the species . . .

We keeping you up?

There have been many attempts to take a picture of Mew during a yawn. Her whole head seems to split in half and the fur on the back of her neck climbs toward her ears at the height of the operation.

Our camera is a Fujifilm that has to think for a while after you press the button to tell it there is a picture it might want to take. She usually gets her mouth shut before the shutter decides to operate.

This time, the stars were in alignment. Now, I have to try this from the side. It only took me nine years to come up with this one.

Plenty of time . . .

Where?

We might as well not even have a cat, right now. I believe this because right now, thunder has rolled. Mew rolled with it - into another dimension possibly. She is invisible at the moment and crouched under the dining room table.

Lightning can't see her when she is invisible. The fact that I see her? Irrelevant.

Most of the time . . .

Tomorrow we are Rock Fish Grilling for lunch with Zeta and M.

Since we are traveling on Friday, BigEd and Mew will be keeping each other company. She is pretty easy company. She mostly does this:
She is on top of the condo that J's mother brought her. She tried the various levels once each and decided she prefers the penthouse. We don't bother her while she is up there and she visibly relaxes when she jumps up.

I know, she is visibly relaxed most of the time unless she wants something . . .

Typical, just typical . . .

We bought some plain yogurt for Mew. She likes stolen whipped cream products (the only way to get them is for her to steal from us) so I thought she would be okay with the yogurt. Bluegrass Mama said her own cat loved it . . .

I let her smell it and put a little on her plate. She refused to even try it. So, I put a little smear of it on top of her forepaw to see if the taste would persuade her. She licked it, shook the forepaw, shivered her back fur, and walked away.

Each time she lifted a paw to take a step, including the rear paws, she shook the whole leg hard and shivered her fur.

The only thing she didn't try to do was bury it. I guess I will have to eat it myself.