I dropped Everett off bright and early yesterday morning. He was NOT a happy boy on the way to Petsmart, and he let me know repeatedly and at top volume just how not happy he was. When we got there, I let him out, and I let Lucy out to run around, so they could get reacquainted while I gave Harlan and Sally some snuggles. When I put Lucy and Everett back in the cage together, Everett was a bit hissy, but Lucy was pretty unfazed. I left a note on the cage asking the cleaners to give Everett some extra love, and left. When I came back a few hours later (I ran errands to Sam’s Club and Target since I was in the area), Everett was curled up in the bed, and Lucy was asleep nearby. I think he’ll be fine.
Charlie Peppers….
..is one stressed out boy.
And he’s not the only one around here. It’s a total stressapalooza around here these days. (That’s Corbie’s delightfully spotted caramel belleh, in case you didn’t know.)
I love how everyone else is finishing up their snack and checking to see if anyone else left some food behind, and Corbie’s all “I’ll be in my box.”
“I SAID GOOD DAY.”
“Sitting in boxes is the ONE THING I do for ME. All day long I do and do and DO for everyone else. I need some CORBIE time!”
Same box, different day. Note that Jake has his loony butt crammed into a tiny, flat box. Somehow, he makes it work.
Then Miz Poo and Patty Peppers had to come in and investigate, and Joe Bob stomped off in a huff.
Tommy and Chuckles get along quite well, thank you. Have you ever seen a happier little face?
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Previously
2010: Meet the Brady Bunch!
2009: Then we’d have to call them The Puddin’ Heads.
2008: The many moods of Delmar.
2007: “Stupid trees with their stupid leaves.”
2006: No entry.
2005: “You flailed around and yelled ‘OW!’, and then a cat came flying off the bed.”
So I saw Miz Poo in that last still and confusion flashed through my brain for a millisecond. I wondered, 1) how is it that Robyn has our dear departed Snack in her home?, and 2) how is it that our dear departed Snack is no longer departed?
Ah, poor Snack. She lived with diabetes and cancer up until February of this year and then her little body gave out and we had to euthanize her. We miss her lots, so it’s good to be reminded of her now and then by Miz Poo and her cranky tortie ways. Snack was a crank too — loved humans, especially my husband (though she wasn’t shy about letting us know when she had had enough), but barely tolerated our two other cats. She just had no use for them (typical tortie). Thanks for the little trip down memory lane!
Ah Jake…demonstrating that a cat’s size is in no way relevant to the size of the space said cat can occupy!
And speaking of occupy, it looks like the cats have started an “Occupy Kitchen” movement in your house. Clearly they feel they are part of the 99% that are NOT being fed enough!! Cats of the world, unite! 🙂
I have lost my heart to Everett. If I didn’t
1. Have an anti-crazy cat clause for my housing
2. Live near you.
3. Have two old lady cats who don’t do ‘changes’
I’d so run up there and ram my car into that Petsmart. The only thing that I’d take would be that sweetboy Everett.
Once again, hoping for instant reincarnation as a permanent resident. (Only if my two perms could be teleported along
as well, of course…) Happy Thanksgiving!
Oh, Charlie “Chuckles” Peppers is so tense, Robyn stop hiding behind doors and scaring them! Jake is completely right, a cat can accomodate any space even if it seems that the other way around that may not work. Get it? I love little Patty and Corbie’s da man – you guys go about giving each other the ‘you’ve eaten enough, move away now’ eyes, and I will supervise. and SC Amy, my cat Sam is convinced he’s leading the ‘we are the 99% that are not fed enough’ movement. In Melbourne. Australia, at any rate. (and just between you and me, no one who sees him believes him, big sooky la-la that he is!)
You really need to work on making your house a less stressful place!
Any updates on how Buster’s doing?
My late lamented Aggie was a big girl, but loved sitting in small boxes. It’s truly amazing how they can make any box fit, if they so desire. Neither of my current two care for boxes, which just kills me – I keep giving them boxes and they just ignore them!
Um. Teeny tiny Alice, one of my favorite fosters because of her love for Fred, appears to be turning into a lardbutt. She used to be so svelte and now she’s got a wee peahead compared to… well, to be honest, she’s starting to look like a potato on toothpicks. That said, I still love her to bits. 😀