Disasters for Cats

This week I experienced Hurricane Sandy.  Up close and personal.  For me this meant being riveted by the news and the non-stop weather updates and meteorologists giving us a detailed analysis of the path of the hurricane's progress up the US East Coast and the obligatory personal account from the various beaches as they were pelted with rain and wind with poor satellite feeds just to give it added credibility.  If those images weren't scary enough, every now and then pieces of the "famous boardwalk" would drift past a reporter for added measure.  Fortunately for my family, we only suffered a flickering of power and two days of closed businesses and schools while our neighbors to the north suffered extreme devastation.  I am praying for them and the terrible conditions they will endure in the days, weeks and months to come cleaning up the damage.

While we hunkered down expecting the worst we looked at the cats to determine how they were reacting to this storm.  When the wind was whistling through the house and making the shutters bang and cedar shingles shake, the cats ears were alternately rotating and eyes grew wide as if to say..."WTF??!!!"  Tigger was pretty chill, he didn't do a lot of panicking and preferred a stance of laid back acceptance.  It was as if he was prepared for whatever fate came--if it was his time, well, so be it.  He is pretty much always in a demeanor of calorie conservation.  Why expend energy when he can either be eating or sleeping, right?  Now Toonsis and Pepper were a different story...

Pepper is a wild raving lunatic.  She is now the happy age of one year.  Which is the human equivalent of a wise teenager.  Think about it.  There's no such thing as a wise teenager.  She over-reacts to everything, including being fed, stroked, looked at.  The first whistle of 45mph wind gusts and she was history.  We didn't see much of Pepper until later.

Toonsis is a weird kitty.  Of course when you name a cat after an SNL skit you are bound to end up with a character, but she's really funny.  Last month I found her in front of the sliding glass door chattering at a chipmunk she saw staring at her from the other side.  She was so upset looking at that rodent on the other side and not being able to get to it that she reminded me of how I feel when I'm in an Apple store looking at all the expensive toys there.  I haven't seen the chipmunk in weeks, but EVERY DAY she goes to that door and stands there waiting for her little friend, chattering, and staring at me anxiously as if to tell me she knows it was there and where did it go?  She is practically a STALKER at that door every day waiting for that nonexistent chipmunk.  She will leave the door for 10 minutes but then race back from across the house to make sure she didn't miss its return.  Psycho-cat.

So, anyway, Toonsis was hiding under a desk during the storm.  Poor poopsie.  We let her sleep under our bed during the worst part of the windy night, but once things calmed down, she went back to her sliding door post.  Just like a little sentinel.  I hope that chipmunk is ok.

What makes me sad is watching some of the footage of the abandoned pets during the storm.  How do people do that when they had so much warning about the hurricane? And thank God for the rescue workers who came in and found them.  I hope all my readers out there know as winter approaches how unbelievably dependent cats really are on their owners for love and shelter.  Don't think you can leave your kitty on a farm or in the woods and just 'cause they have claws they can fend for themselves.  That is a real disaster recipe.  Domesticated cats used to being fed and loved won't know what hit them.

I hope all your fluffy family members are safe out there and that you haven't had to endure any disasters heavier than dirty litter boxes.  God Bless.

When Good Cats Go Bad...

No, it's not the smell of the refrigerator that's bothering you.  But something is a little too ripe in the house.  And I'll bet it's squatting somewhere it's not supposed to, or stalking you while you sleep, or just has an attitude that says, "I have decided cute is no longer useful to me...I have chosen evil."  Can this cat be reformed?  That's up to you.  If you are the happy owner of this once beloved fluffball who used to purr softly in your lap and look at you adoringly and curl around your legs while you made breakfast...there may be hope.  But if this sketchy and suspicious feline has always been a blur prancing through the house and ducking all of your well-intentioned petting, maybe you need a little prayer time.  Not all cats are innate cuddlers or natural playmates for your kids and dogs (haha poor Fido!)  Most cats prefer to DOMINATE their surroundings.  And I use caps and am yelling at you for a reason.  If you haven't already figured it out, cats will NOT BE IGNORED and so the primary reason a cat will turn on its loyal owner and savior from the shelter/agency/highway/ex-lover is because it's not getting enough attention.  Little Fluffy really has to have enough toys scattered around the house to "hunt" or else will create an environment befitting her royal station (deluded she may be, but all cats believe they are royal). Otherwise, you are risking her creating toys from your favorite knick-knacks and souvenirs from that last vacation you took.  If you don't provide enough stimulation, I guarantee she will find a way to manipulate her environment to be a stalking ground which isn't the same thing as a safe play area.  Do you really feel safe walking barefoot around your sofa with that kitty lurking quietly...claws at the ready...after she's been home alone with nothing to shred?  For the love of unbroken skin, buy some tiny toy mice and plastic balls and scatter them around so you are no longer a pawn in her game of hide and go FREAK!

This?

or...this?? (gulp...)

You've lost that Lovin Feelin'

What?

Perhaps a little wild kitty isn't the problem with your once grateful and loving schnoogums.  Maybe he just stopped waiting for you at the window when you arrived home and that loving feeling is gone?  Have you been getting the suspicious aura of...something or other in the corner?  Does it seem like the litter box has less to offer than it used to?  Hmmm.  Maybe you even catch your precious Zeus in the sink now and then, making a "statement" about the location of his toilet?  Bad kitty.  It's time to make sure he knows who's boss!  No, he's not a dog and you can't smush his nose in it (not that that is an effective method for house-training a dog, either, by the way!)  The fact is that house-soiling is a cat's way of communicating his irritation with you about his surroundings (unless there is a medical problem.)  So let's assume you've taken him to the vet and you've spent the required $300 on tests and labs and your vet smiles and looks at you while telling you how perfectly "normal" your cat is.  Next, let's examine the house again...What's different?  Have you added a person/cat/dog/iguana/construction worker?  Started playing the drums?  Did you (suck in breath) MOVE YOUR FURNITURE?!?!? Well, change to a cat is never a good thing.  You might have to start following kitty around and watching when he eats and then carry his lazy butt to the litterbox and plop him in there and see if he'll go.  Peristalsis almost always leads to elimination (especially first thing in the morning) so even if he looks at you like you've lost your mind, bear with it.  Maybe he'll reward you with a scratch and a pee and then remember that's where he's supposed to go and won't have any leftovers to spread around later.  It's like interrupting the cycle of a bed-wetter.  Make sure you know when he is having the "accident" (yes, let's call it an accident) and train him to recognize it as an accident and where to take it...maybe it will stop.  And for GOODNESS SAKE...keep the box clean and in a quiet, safe place where it can't be messed with by the dog/iguana/construction worker.  Those distractions would interfere with my bladder too.


There is always the possibility you have a rotten egg.  There are a few cats that resist reformation and just need space and independence and want nothing to do with human intervention.  What on earth can you do with a cat like this?  Well, I might argue you have the easiest pet in the world because you just need to provide food and shelter and have patience because if the cat is that independent, it's not likely to interfere with your life too much.  Try to honor its request for space and realize it has individuated from you. It's kind of like a dependent teenager that wants to leave home but never gets a job, lays around on the couch all day, eating your food, using your stuff, and making no apologies for the messes. You have to adopt the "unconditional love" policy and realize it's too late for rehab and maybe someday this annoying creature will approach you for a hug and show a smidgen of gratitude.  But don't hold your breath.  It would be cruel to throw the kitty out.  It obviously has no idea what it has done wrong, it has no conscience.  It's just a self-absorbed kitty that needs to be ignored and maybe, just MAYBE, once you forget your need for attention it might come around...on tender paws...and sniff you...because (like I said) cats cannot tolerate being ignored...

Smelly Fingers

Finger-sniffing.  Let's admit it. We all do it.  What I'm referring to is the royal ritual we must engage in to approach your standoffish feline at the moment of introduction. 

"David, this is Mr. Pringles.  Mr Pringles, this is HISS hiss hisssssss!" 

What just happened here?  You guessed it.  Your friend David either just had a new smile carved onto his face by Mr. Pringles or shreds of cat fur went spinning in the air as kitty spun in a frantic and neurotic attempt to escape the questionable intentions of David.  And why??  Because David, what a PUTZ, didn't know about the FINGER SNIFF!!  Literally everyone who knows and worships their cats realizes you NEVER approach a cat hands up as if you have the nerve to TOUCH them first...you must let them sniff your fingers, preferably the back of your hand, as if to say, "Yes, I am not worthy to touch you but I would like to become acquainted with your human."

You probably wonder how did this evolutionary chain of events occur?  Why all the fuss over a simple greeting?  Let's imagine the probable first meeting of the very first human and cat who ever domesticated each other.

HUMAN CHILD:  Look! Oh Egyptian mother!  I see an exotic lion cub licking itself on the sand.  May I touch it?
HUMAN MOTHER:  (warily eyeballing this mutant creature but weighing her options)  Of course you may!  Just make sure you don't smell like breakfast or else it might want to eat you!
HUMAN TEENAGER:  HAHAHA you ate crocodile for breakfast!  I hope it bites your fingers off!
HUMAN CHILD:  waaaaahhhhhhh!
HUMAN MOTHER:  Now look what you've done!  Little Tootsandpheromones is crying!!
HUMAN TEENAGER:  I'LL do it....just look.  If I walk very slowly...hey!  It likes me...it wants to smell my hand.  Can we keep it?

(hours later...)

HUMAN CHILD: Egyptian Mommy!  Look what we did to the pretty little lion!  We put eye makeup on it and it's sitting on Daddy's throne.  Now Daddy is afraid to touch it because it hisses like a snake!  Isn't that funny??
HUMAN MOTHER:  Did you tell your father to let it sniff his fingers?
HUMAN CHILD:......

So you can see as I have so very accurately and historically put things into perspective, 1) cats like to wear eye makeup and sit on thrones, and 2) they won't eat you if you let them sniff your fingers.

Still not convinced?  OK.  When is the last time you were able to touch YOUR OWN CAT without showing it you had nothing in your hands first?  Don't you ever feel as if your cat may be working for some type of security detail because of the lack of trust it shows in your open palms?  I cannot just pat my cats on the head without them jerking away and looking at me as if I didn't bring my permission slip first.  It doesn't apply if the cat is already sitting on you--in this case the animal has already deemed you worthy of holding its bottom, so the head is no big deal.  But just go ahead and approach a cat head-to-head and make eye contact and just wait and see what happens.  Either the cat will bail out and run away from the discomfort of the intimate stare, it will approach you with interest but still duck when that hand comes palm first, OR it will look at you disdainfully and wait for you to approach it.  In which case you still have to let the kitty sniff you.

I'd be very interested to know if I'm the only one who has such skeptical kitties and perhaps they all think I'm a serial cheater. They imagine every time I leave the house I'm going off to be with other cats.  "She's back?  Sniff her hands to make sure she doesn't smell like some strange pussycat.  She okay?  Stand down."  I get to live another day and no one eats my toes while I sleep.

You have won a scratch behind my ears!

Daily Affirmations

Who can resist a kitten?

(This blog is dedicated to my peeps on the farm--you all rock!)

I am going to start this blog with a confession:  I am a drama queen.  My family knows this and they probably share many eye-rolls at my expense, but that's okay.  I am passing down my genes to my kids and have made sure to curse both daughters with this gene as well and so far things are going on schedule so la-dee-da.  "You'll get yours for making fun of me when you have kids.  Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo!"  Part of my weakness is that I need lots of attention and positive strokes for my meager accomplishments so this is why I have cats.  You don't understand the connection?  Let me explain.

Toonsis...the sweet puddy-tat

My cats are kind of silly.  They aren't all that smart or special in the sense that they belong on America's Got Talent, but I think they have skills.  I am a happy housewife.  I used to have a very lucrative career but retired some time ago when my health problems became a bit overwhelming and getting out of bed became an issue.  This is where cats are an asset.  They make great foot warmers as well as back rests and nap buddies.  Cats never make me feel guilty for not getting up to do dishes or laundry, and I think when there's competitive sleeping involved I can ALMOST win.  They are good pets if you don't require a lot of energy for feeding or playing or walking or being catatonic.  In fact, if you aren't allergic to cats, they are THE BEST pets in my opinion, especially if you are disabled or elderly because they are pretty lazy and won't require you to do much of anything except uploading "adorable" videos to YouTube and becoming eccentric and estranged from your family during reunions when you wear sweaters you find at flea markets.  When they are kittens they can be a handful, but it's very temporary and awfully fun to name them after people you know and then invite those people over.   Cats are practically born housebroken and natural neatnicks so you won't have a smelly pet unless you have a problem scooping litter.  Or you hoard cats.  Please don't hoard cats.

Watching at the door

Now, for the attention that I need...I am often alone at home while my loved ones pursue their busy lives (which is how it should be) and I really enjoy my solitude.  However, while mommy has the duty of encouraging the kids and being there for my darling hubby to come home to, there is that tiny voice inside me named Self-Doubt that won't shut up no matter how many wonderful things I do for others or how often I buy myself chocolate.  I have my limits because I spend a fair amount of time in doctor appointments and this has been the worst year so far with hospital "procedures," but I long to do something worthwhile and leave my legacy like anyone else.  I'm not sure how other mothers do it, I juggle lots of projects and the typical duties of a stay-home mom are numerous and seldom noticed by those who are at the receiving end of those activities.  But the struggle is to not complain about my role and count my blessings at the same time.  So I look at my precious felines and smile because they represent little pieces of serenity that walk around talking to me and thanking me for every little thing I do.

My lovable Tigger

When I feed them in the morning, they meow and wind their little bodies around me anxiously until they have their bowls filled.  They know the drill and I'm happy to see them each morning waiting for me at the top of the stairs where they greet me with chirps and happy tails.  When it's naptime, Tigger reminds me how tired I really am and accompanies me to my room where he curls his body into me and spoons me into sweet healing slumber.  When the weather is fair, they all sit on the porch and stare excitedly at the birds and entertain me with their dilated pupils and wild scampering from one side to the other.  And when I come home from wherever, they come out from under the couch or the bed or whatever cuddly corner they were in and sleepily yawn at me as if to say, "Yo, familiar-smelling big bald cat!  Glad you're here.  Where's our tender vittles?" 

Toonsis attempting to prevent a housebreak

This doesn't sound like much, but for me these are my daily affirmations.  My little furry dependents.  Anyone who loves their cats can tell you that owning one and loving one are two different things and when you love a cat definitely they love you back.  

Do Cats Get Headaches?

Last night I had a migraine.  Not your run of the mill headache.  This pain was epic.  Right between my neck and my temples...basically, my entire head.  It had a pulse.  I can imagine that it also was creating its own light source--red with an angry orange shooting out like lava from my ears.  I was thrashing around on my bed like a fish that had been hooked and dragged onto a boat.  Begging for mercy from the pharmaceutical geniuses of the world, I grabbed several containers of my favorite pain cocktails and poured myself a mixer of muscle relaxers and pain-be-gone and just lay there for at least 45 minutes staring at the ceiling waiting for deliverance. 

In this wild state of wacky medicinal la-la-land, I thought about my poor kitties at home in the heat without me.  I am on vacation (yes, what a great way to spend the night!!) and they have no one there to share their day with.  But then I thought about all the times I find them all curled up sleeping in little circles with their precious paws covering their eyes and wonder...do cats get headaches?  I mean, how would we know if they did?  They always wander around with a kind of devil-may-care attitude.  But how many times do we pay attention when they are REALLY trying to actively EVADE attention in that "I'm in pain" passive kind of way?  Those are the precise moments they look the most adorable and I can hardly resist picking up the little oom-foo-foo and feeling the body go limp and the tiny meow of protest.  Isn't that sweet?  So precious.

But maybe what we ought to be doing is massaging their little temples. Or their paws. You know all our nerves end in our feet and they have FOUR so if we can learn cat reflexology then if you can find a cat that allows you to massage its feet without ripping you to shreds--maybe we can cure all kinds of diseases without paying those exhorbitant vet bills!  Just imagine that kitty with the spa treatment...its a relaxing image...my headache is starting to subside...

AHA!  I've just realized one of the keys to getting rid of MY migraines is to imagine a cat at a spa!  Or maybe that's the drugs?  Or a cat taking drugs?  Definitely things don't make as much sense as they did before all the muscle relaxers kicked in...I wonder if they had cats at opium dens?  I wonder if the first person who discovered the power of opium had a cat?

I think I feel a lot better now.  The pulsing in my head is gone and now I just feel like it's just a great big cotton ball.  Better than a throbbing ball of red hot lava.  But I know for sure the next time I see my kitty laying down with his paws over his eyes blocking out the light, I am going to respect his space and just let him snooze.  After all, he may be dreaming about giving me a massage.

Weight Loss Challenge

When I weigh myself I often challenge the scale to a debate which sounds like this in my head.
    ME:  "My hair is wet. That has to add at least 4 pounds." 
    SCALE:  "But your hair is only 10 inches long and is towel-dry."
    ME: "And I forgot to exhale before I stepped on the scale. Let's try this again."
    SCALE:  "Right."
    ME: "Oops, I forgot to shave my legs before I weighed myself.  None of this matters."
    SCALE:"You need to see what matters from this angle."
    ME:  "Besides, I ate too much sodium last night so that added at least .8 oz"
    SCALE: "...?"
    ME: "I'm throwing this thing out."
    SCALE: "!!!!!*(&$"


What's the worst part of this debate is that I'm having it with an inanimate object and I think I lost.  Oh dear.  Tragically I have similar "conversations" like this with my hairbrush, my clothes, even my mirror.  I think I am definitely in need of a summer makeover.  To tell you the truth, I don't feel responsible for looking as shaggy as I feel and that's part of the problem.  I have chronic health issues and there are many days that I wake up and the most I can do is drag a toothbrush across my teeth and pretend not to feel like I was run over by a Zamboni.  But today I am sitting here confronted with my husband who just bounced into the living room all sweaty from a refreshing jog and looking like he just regained his youth and I feel I have somehow become a little too catlike in my demeanor.  I can sit here and blink at him slowly and lazily and it really wouldn't phase me if he poured me a saucer of milk at this point because I have become that slow-moving and even diligent in my sloth.  Something must be done.


I recollect my days as a teenager and energy and wild abandon I had and the restraint it took just to sit still. Where did that go?  Does this happen to everyone when they reach their 40s?  Right now I could probably win a sleeping marathon.  The other day I went to bed around 10pm and when I woke up the next morning, I was in the exact same position I fell asleep in.  I'm not sure that's natural.  Or healthy.  I was so freaking tired from doing nothing all day that I was exhausted.  What was that about?


So I have spent entirely too much time with my cats, watching them, admiring their ability to do nothing and be professional slackers and now I have begun to emulate them and I need to tear myself away and get in shape.  I don't want to LOOK like my cats.  Tigger has the worst physique and I don't think my husband is very attracted to that look at all.  I definitely don't want my belly dragging around on the ground when I crawl.  Ewww. I exaggerate, his belly doesn't drag.  But it definitely hangs low.

So today is the first day of "the rest of my life" and I'm wondering if I can get the kitties to take an interest in the treadmill with me?  It's a shame I can't get them to work out.  I am going to include my favorite cat exercise video for your viewing pleasure and if there is any comment you can share to motivate me I sure would appreciate it.  Writing a blog is a very sedentary exercise so it's time for me to get off my butt for now.  Wish me luck!!!

Crowded Spaces

So I haven't been a very good blogger lately.  The truth is my older daughter is home from college and when she returned, so did her STUFF.  She had quite a collection to sort through (read: Mommy had a collection to sort through) which included extra bedding which she announced she will never need again (why do all colleges make you buy XL twin sheets?) and an assortment of plastic cups with her college logo, books, lamps, bags, crates, and many things that need a designated corner of the house until next semester when we ship her back to school.  She will start to accumulate more stuff as summer passes because she is moving off campus, so naturally we "need" to acquire a pile of things for the apartment.  Glassware, dishes, pots/pans, more bedding, and the list goes on. The puddle of stuff spreading around the space with her things feels like quicksand.  I sigh because I can't see the carpet anymore and everywhere I turn is a pair of flip flops and a discarded sweatshirt, and this doesn't have anything to do with the group of things that has to go back to college.  I am being invaded by teenage chaos and I know as a mom I'm supposed to cherish these moments and lovingly caress the mess or something.  But instead I seclude myself in my bedroom where I thought I had my own private order.  But the mess seems to leak into my space too and there really is no escape.  Why does this affect my blogging, you ask?  Because I have very little imagination when I'm too busy massaging my temples and chanting to myself, "do NOT freak out...it's only a LITTLE messy...be more like the honey badger..."  Click to see the link to the crazyass honeybadger

Toonsis "hiding" in the paperwork

What has this got to do with cats?  The source of all DE-stressing for me lately has been related to grabbing the closest fuzzball and stroking it until it either hisses or falls asleep.  But perhaps I am a little too affectionate because they are also starting to crowd me a bit.  Just a moment ago as I was typing, Toonsis decided it wasn't good enough to sit near me, she had to crawl into the smallest space by the desk which already happened to be loaded with papers, envelopes, and our modem.  I'm sure she thinks crawling around on a shelf is great fun, but crashing our modem because she hits the rocker switch with her kneading action isn't my idea of togetherness.  What a twit.


And Tigger isn't satisfied to sit beside me either.  He has to share my chair.  He becomes a back rest or kind of a lumbar support, if you will.  At least I don't have to throw him in the microwave to keep him warm.  The vibration from the purring is kind of nice actually.  I'll keep it.

Tigger, my lumbar support

Cutest most stupid kitty

Pepper on the other hand, just sits about 3 yards away looking at me with mischief on her face.  She is the dumbest kitten I've ever known.  I don't know what she's thinking.  But I'm sure it goes something like this, "duh duh duh."  And then she will literally jump straight up and take off with her rear claws trying to get traction on the wood floor.  What a dope.  But what a cutie.  Sheesh.

Cats don't mind messes, or sharing space (mostly), or having a little too much stuff.  The more stuff the better, I think because then there is something to drag around and howl about when you're being ignored or at 3am.  The thing they are very good at is getting right up in your business and making sure you know they are there, and you MUST pay attention to them, IMMEDIATELY.  Ignoring them is not an option.  So, for now, I will just try to refocus on the cats and turn away from the habitat.  Maybe then I can get back to blogging.

Amusement Parks for Cats

When I was packing my 14 year old up this morning for her band competition at Hershey Park, I was imagining her day ahead--filled with sunshine and junk food, long lines, humidity, alternating total boredom surrounded by five minutes of madness.  Good times. If you are not familiar with Hershey Park, PA this is a golden shining place with roller coasters and screaming people with liquid courage who spew that courage at high speeds and high places.  "Dude! Your face was sooo green!  HAHAHA!"    And I need to mention the high point of the day is the tour of the Hershey Chocolate Factory where she can see the history of how chocolate is made, and all the tours empty into the majesty of the MOTHER OF ALL CHOCOLATE STORES.  I guarantee this semi-supervised child of mine will come home with a tummy ache, or some leftover piece of solid chocolate that looks more like brown sugar lava due to the body heat and crushing blows of the rides she will endure (or shall I say self-inflict?) throughout the day.  Better have the Pepto-Bismol ready for our happy reunion tonight.

Of course you know where this is headed...wouldn't it be GRAND if there was an amusement park for CATS??  Maybe a place where we could take them for the day rather than a boarding kennel?  I can name some of the wonderful rides and attractions that would be suitable for such an endeavor:

The Tilt-A-Hurl

1:   The TILT-A-HURL.  Everyone knows this kitty ride.  Why not just gather up all of your cats with inner-ear or gastric issues and let them bond on this contraption where they can gag and barf and do all their wretching in one place?  There will be an attendant with his/her mop at the ready and their Nature's Miracle™ to make it all fresh for the next batch of guests.

The CAT-a-PULT

 2:  The CAT-a-PULT:  Does your cat seem to be able to defy gravity?  Let's find out for sure by strapping them into a device that shotputs them into space.  Waivers must be signed at the front of the park.  No declawed cats will be permitted.

3.  Mouse Hunt:  It's like the hall of mirrors, but there are no mirrors.  And no halls.  Just an unfinished factory with mice.  One mouse per cat.

MOUSE HUNT

The Witch's Friend

4.  Witch's Friend:  The black cat special!  Have your cat's picture taken with a menopausal reality show celebrity!! You have your selection from a variety of guests depending on the desperation of the housewife of the season.

THE INCREDIBLE BULK

5.  The INCREDIBLE BULK:  Like the Incredible Hulk, this cat gets ugly when he's mad...so you can ride this bad boy if you dare!  It's an enormous roller coaster meant to give the illusion of speed, but because it's actually a simulated geriatric cat who got his tail caught in a screen door, it might not be that fast, just random.  Every ride is unique.

?!?!?!?!?

 6.  The BALLOON RIDE:  What park would be complete without a ride that drops you to earth without a safety net?  We have this for you...Have you ever seen a cat get partly stuck in a plastic grocery bag and then not understand what it's being attacked by?  This is the concept--Your cat will be gently guided into a bag and then released into a large showroom of dining room tables and stairways and ramps.  What fun!!

These are just ideas off the top of my head.  I can assure you I have thousands more.  I haven't even begun to list the snack ideas and entertainers.  What do you think?  Could we make any money?

What's in a Name?

The other day I found out that my given name, Teresa, is represented in the Catholic faith as Saint Teresa de Avila--the patron saint of Headache Sufferers.  I kid you not.  Oy vey.  How apropos. Were my parents psychic when they named me?  Or was this a naming curse? After all, I suffer from terrible migraines to the extent that I take daily medicines to prevent them.  Saint Teresa also suffered a great number of physical afflictions throughout her lifetime.  I have had my fair share of health issues in recent years, but I don't want to blame it on my birth name.  But I have to wonder how much emphasis we place on the naming process and I suggest we be more careful about assigning them even to our pets because I think they live into those labels. 

My pets, for example, are named Tigger, Toonsis, and Pepper.  Tigger was so named because of his cross-eyes and playful nature, and we felt a more cartoonish name seemed appropriate.  He resembles all things "Tigger-ish".  Now I see how many Tiggers there are and his name seems so ordinary.   But he will answer to anything.  Dumdum, Here-Boy, Hey You, Get Down, but my husband's personal favorite is Dumb Shit.


Toonsis was named after a Saturday Night Live skit from the 80s.  (see video)  My daughter and I loved the sketch about a cat that could drive a car and in every episode it drives the family off a cliff.  This absurd and childish skit makes no sense, but for some reason having our own Toonsis and telling people her name and them catching the reference brings everyone a laugh.  We just love to say, "Toonsis!  Look out!"

Pepper went through a few different names because we didn't plan to adopt her.  We thought about giving her a title, such as "Mrs. Piddlesworth" or a very human name like Susan.  We were imagining her potential families saying her name at the shelter and to us that was a form of entertainment.  But once we realized we were stuck with her, the bad attitude she had just made the spicy nature of her name stick.  She's so full of herself but so cute.  You just want a dash of her.  But you can only take a little Pepper.



But what about the people who name their KIDS things I wouldn't name my pets?  If I named my cat Blue Ivy you might think I was a little odd. "Would you take Apple for a walk?"  Coco is definitely a dog name.  I wouldn't be surprised if we hear more celebrity names like Whisper Waterbottle, or Wallow Basket, or Meander Mikah.  You wait.  I feel bad for these kids because someday they may marry other celebrities and become Mrs. Blue Ivy Blanket Jackson, or Mrs. Apple Ice-T (??).  Seriously, folks, what were they thinking?


So in the future, I will probably continue to give the cat names serious thought.  And I'm always curious about the names other people give to their pets.  But when I meet a person who names their animal something funny, just to get a laugh, I know I've met a kindred soul.  Sorry, kitty.  Nothing personal.  You know I won't be calling you by your name much anyway unless you deserve it.

(Email blog fans, you need to log into the web version to see the Toonces video below, please click the link at the bottom of the page