Tag Archives: pets


pussy ham

I think “my” cat had to have been a pop star in another life.

Notty came as as part of the feline pair from Cleveland with Kevin. He never really came out of his shell from the abusive home and abandonment that Kevin rescued him from. (He was continually beat and eventually dropped in a back alley).

Well – that is until he met me… At that time a card carrying cat hater.

I’ll never forget that first week after Kevin moved in… I was working and had dug through one of my desk’s side drawers for something, leaving it open. An hour must have passed before I looked down to notice Nottingham curled up in the drawer staring at me… and… “cooing”. He’d only ever come out of hiding, ever, to eat and use the box.

They say cats “choose” their owners… I believe it.

Of course every time he hawks a hairball up or has another fit of bulimia, (Karen Carpenter had NOTHING on this little beinge-purge machine). “Kevin! Your cat threw up on the carpet again!”

Anyway… I swear the spine on that cat is one big ham bone.

As soon as anything “pretty” gets put out. (In this case, the flowers I bought Kevin for our anniversary), – he’s sure to be there.

If I get the camera out – I swear he goes from “I’m being cute, look at me” to “I’m beautiful god damn it – take my photo”.

Pet photographer’s dream I’d assume.

Also would probably make good filler for someone who kept a blog and wanted to lace it with the sort of “AWWWWWWWWWWWWW how cute” comment-fodder you’d come to expect from some wanna-be-aww-shucks, I’m trying to find beauty in every day, attention seeking, kinda blog-dork.



My Wednesday on. My pop’s been after me to take his dog to the vet for her annual checkup so I blocked out the morning to do just that.

Technically it’s “my dog” – but the little beast has long since re-imprinted on my father completely.

I got Dakota when I was a sophomore in college (circa 1991) about a year after going through the heartbreak of holding my terminally ill, childhood dog in my arms as he was euthanized.

Here it is 12 years later and the old girl is still kicking. Just a tubbier, haggard, more lethargic version of the little hyper spas she used to be. I still remember walking around with her stuffed in my jacket when I was 19.

She still remembers this too – and to this day tries to climb into my jacket or up onto my shoulders.dog skeleton

When mom moved out, the dog and my dad bonded something fierce. She is dad’s little companion – and spoiled terribly. It’s not unusual for dad to drive through McDonnald’s for a cheeseburger… Not for him – he won’t even be hungry.. Nope.. For the dog.. *Hold the pickle please.

I suppose it’s true what they say about dogs picking up characteristics of their owners. Like dad, she doesn’t care terribly for leaving the house – especially alone. And she’s prone to anxiety.

Luckily, I’m “Imprint human #1″, so I can manage her and get her into the car and do the evil deed of taking her to see Dr. Woods, our veterinarian.

It’s an exercise in exhausting patience. During the ordeal, she cried, peed, puked and pooped. EVERYWHERE – *except for in my car thank god.

I don’t think dogs perceive space like humans do – but sometimes I wonder. Why would she like going to the vet? – I personally find the examination rooms unsettling. I’m not sure if it’s the display case with the dog skeleton and scientific jars filled with tapeworms – or the country drekey wallpaper.

She checked out just fine… Overweight as usual…

Dr. Woods encouragesd more exercise and I avoid telling him about the cheeseburgers.

kitty porn v.2

why does “my” cat have to be the bottom?!

Yesterday was my Wednesday “on”… Ran all over but didn’t really do any actual “work”… it was mostly face-time.

Lunchtime was spent watching the “Bush in 30 Seconds” DVD at a friend’s house. I need to stop watching these types of things. You don’t need to sell me on the idea that Bush is a bad idea… So anything more I take in just winds up making me angry. I’m sick of digesting my own internal organs over the current administration.

I tried the new steak salad at Panera. (it’s nummy – but I could live without the Gorgonzola and it still pales in comparison to the mouth orgasm which is their Asian Chicken Salad).

Danny cut my hair…. I went to happy hour.

I don’t know which is a better indicator of Spring’s arrival. The flowers coming up in the yard, the oak pollen which is making my head feel “off” or the cats – who have been completely acting a fool.

They’ve both been pacing the house, staring out the windows and howling, and the more disturbing trend as of late – having sex on the sofa…

Now I don’t think they’re really having sex per-say… They’re both boys… They’re both fixed… but I guess they didn’t get the memo on that one.

Nonetheless – it’s always disturbing to hear kitty growls emanating from the other room and walk in to see…. THAT going on. I’ve caught myself blushing and verbally saying “Oh… pardon me.” – and leaving the room..

I should simply sit down on the end of the sofa and stare at them with a puzzled expression on my face. Turnabout “IS” fair play you know.

*I’m not blogging.


need machine

As if I needed another reason to occasionally want to strangle my mother.

Mom pulled that thing moms do when they want you to do something… That sweet tone, the batting of the eye lashes, the pouty lips…. “Honey – would you watch my baby while I’m gone this weekend? – Pleaaaaaase?”

This weekend is the Sausage Festival at the Stone Hill Winery out in a small Germanicly settled town a couple of hours outside of St. Louis. Mom is one of the judges.

So….. I though: “We’re not doing much this weekend – another little beastie running around the house won’t be a problem.”

I couldn’t be any more incorrect.

Behold… “Cody” – a spastic, restless little ball of kinetic need and my mother’s mid-life crisis child all wrapped up into the body of a Min-Pin.

The cats were indifferent to him when he’s visited before, but as soon as the cats figured out he was staying – things changed.

One cat just sits on top of things and hisses… The other cat has taken to randomly intimidating the dog and visa versa.

When he’s not making a ruckus with the cats, he stands by the door and whines.

Take him out… He doesn’t go to the bathroom

Let him back in.. and he shits on my floor.cody dog

I just got a call from mom – she’s coming back a day early. I asked her to come straight here and pick up her…. “pet”.

I haven’t been able to nap and my evening was spent sleeping with one ear open.

My nerves are shot from constantly watching to make sure one of the cats didn’t perform a vivisection on our house guest.

I can barely focus between yaps to compose this entry that I’m trying to make for a blog I don’t have.