Scowling

The sun is out now, after thunder rudely woke me up from my long, winter slumber. Trying to relearn how to post here, the paws are rusty.


We might as well open a zoo here. Remember the two cats of a long while ago? Mom and baby? The baby has moved on, but mom is still around. She won't let the brat touch her still. The bad thing? She looks to be getting larger. Not like taller. Nope. More like rounder. Yep. I think she's making more little ones. That will add to the zoo of things that have crossed our back yard. A couple of possums. Before that the skunks. We've also had a monsterous raccoon. I wasn't going to mess with him, but I did let him know his presence wasn't appreciated. He didn't care.


The grass is long, we're going to have to fight the lawnmower in the next day or two unless it keeps raining. Think I'll stalk it later today. Well....think I'll take a nap in the sun first.

Checking in

Whew. The wind must finally be blowing in a different direction and the smell of skunk that had invaded the house is gone. I was worried that the vagrants had gotten in a fight with him, or Buxley again, but I think that poor sucker died on the road.

It's been so hot....but we might actually get cooler this weekend. Looking forward to that, though wondering what will become of the vagrants when it gets even colder. The brat tried to mess with them last night, going outside and sitting down, rather than heading over to their food bowl directly. The baby came running, yelling, and stopped just short of where the brat was. Mom was slower to come over, and stopped within ten feet. They both kept looking at the brat and you could just read their expressions. "Food? Over there, the bowl? Like now?" He sat for about five minutes before giving up as neither cat was in the least bit inclinded to eat out of his hand. Now if he had a hot, juicy t-bone, they might have given that a shot. But somehow, I don't think Cameron would appreciate good food going to them like that. And personally speaking....I'd chew a new hole in the brat's favorite shirt if such a treat was given to them and not me.

It's about time for the brat to come home, and for me to tour my property. Until later!

Happy, happy, happy!

Heard Cam and the brat pull up out front. I was watching out back, the vagrants having a game of chase going since their bowl hadn't been filled yet. Watched the baby bound towards the brat like he was extremely excited and wanted to be petted. The brat heads towards them and the baby runs and hides under the fence with mom. Don't quite understand them as they keep hopping out from under the fence, all kinds of excited and happy, but then they're also still scared. The brat has gotten much closer to them, actually within touching distance while they eat but if his hand comes out at all to try to let them sniff him, they back off. Quite funny to watch their antics and conflicting body language. Guess that's what happens when you live without human contact, even if it DOES happen to be a brat.

SO.......the brat went out last night and brought home this new fangled water dish. Looks like a small bottle of spring water turned upside down. Guess it means the water will drip out as I drink it, but if he thinks I'm drinking day old, week old, or month old water, he's got another thing coming.

He decided too that I needed a new toy. Some cutesy door hanger with two puffy things on the end of that rubbery black string. I should be inducted into the Guiness Book of World Cat Records - I had that string chewed through in under sixty seconds! The duck thing is free! The worm thing will be next, at least as soon as I figure out how to get on the top shelf in the pantry. Cam didn't think it was too funny.

The Enabler

Alright - the brat has seriously crossed the line. I think I've mentioned the homeless varmints that seem to have taken up residence in my back yard. A mom and her baby, who by now has just about reached her height, though not yet her weight. The brat has been feeding them. That didn't sit well at first, but yes, even I have a soft heart for someone that doesn't have their own home, or their own Cameron to cuddle up to. So the food has been tolerated, though if either of them think of coming any closer to the house I let them know to back off.

But last night, the brat actually became.......an enabler. A drug dealer. He is preying on those poor homeless cats and turned them right into addicts. Yes, it's The Nip. He put bait out for the birds first. Then fed the vagrants. They had just decided to come investigate when he went back out with The Nip. They ducked back under the fence and I saw him pour a generous amount of that in the dead grass next to where he feeds them. Once he'd left the area, both came out again and the mom caught the first whiff of trouble. You could see her eyes go wide and without a second care for the dinner laid out for her, she went straight to The Nip. She didn't even need to indulge and she was already acting like a junkie. Immediately checking out the surrounding areas, making sure there was no one near to steal her stash, eyes wild, head darting this way and that. Immediate paranoia. Once she was certain she was alone, and no one would see her fall - she did. Straight over on her side, her snout buried deeply within The Nip.

What transpired was a classic drug reaction. Couldn't keep her feet, and frequent arguing with her baby. The baby got a few whiffs and looked like a classic case of hyper ADD. Chasing pink elephants I think, though I never saw a thing. Then the baby decided that the mother's tail was the greatest toy ever, once he realized he couldn't catch his own. It took over an hour for the munchies to hit, and either of them found their dinner.

Guess it'll be a halfway house for them, rather than a full one.

Almost caught, on film

To Mom. I love and miss you.


I was looking outside yesterday, watching as the brat fed the vagrants. They hide in the neighbor's back yard. Not Buxley's yard of course, but the other one. A six foot privacy fence separates their yard from ours. In the back corner the yard slopes down gently, creating a low spot for the water to travel in when (IF!!!!) it ever rains. Anyway, the vagrants can get under the fence there. I see the brat go out every night, dumping the dry crunchy stuff into an old microwave container and filling up a water bowl. Sometimes they come out, but never too close to him. He'll sit down in the grass and chatter at them while they eat.

Anyway, yesterday he goes out and puts the food down and I see them looking from beneath the fence. He comes in, then goes back out. The mother cat goes back under the fence. The grey kitten looks scared, backs up but doesn't disappear. I watch as the brat slowly makes his way over there, probably about fifteen feet away. He sits down in the grass and takes out a camera. The kitten steps back over to the food and takes a bite or two, then goes under the fence. It's funny, I can see them sitting there. The brat had a stare-off and of course the feline population wins! They sat and outwaited him, knowing he had a camera I think. He was so disappointed. He'll have to wait to feed them, until they come out when he goes out and he MUST have the camera with him. Otherwise, they'll outwait him again.

I'm hot stuff.

Okay, it's hot. I get that. I seriously get that. My salad outdoors is a crispy yellow rather than the succulent green that I like. Food chooses to stay hidden rather than come out and play. Can't sneak up on the flying bits of food because the grass sounds more like rice crispies than anything else. I am thankful the mowing beast is silent.

But that does NOT change the fact that I want a lap to lie on. I couldn't find Cam the other day and was resigned to trying the brat's lap. I got up, got settled, and two minutes later had to rearrange myself because the brat did. Got settled again, another blissful two minutes and we move yet again. Then he has the gall to drop some of what he's drinking on my head. Then I get a shower of crumbs as he's munching through a very dry bag of pretzels. I'd share the kibbles with him but he doesn't deserve it.

He finally put me on the floor. Or rather, *I* gave up and left. He was all 'you're too hot' and I shrugged. At least he knows it.

Drink anyone?

The brat should be given a science blue ribbon at the county fair for his latest concoction. He actually figured out what makes up cough syrup! A few simple ingredients, so he says. I've never needed the stuff and don't plan on accepting any drinks from him that aren't fresh from the cow.

Typing in a few of the bottles they have, the brat came up with a list of drinks that could be made. The first one they managed to drink. The second went straight down the sink after both tried it. Equal parts of Midori and Vodka, topped with Grenadine. Supposed to be a watermelon shot or something to that effect, but the look the brat had after taking a healthy swig spoke otherwise. He was trying to keep it down when he handed it (that's my brat, always willing to share) to Cam, who for some unknown reason didn't use logic. Logic would dictate that if your partner is a pasty shade of green with a contorted face, you shouldn't drink what he just drank. Cam had a momentary loss of the much needed logic and took a healthy swig himself. He didn't turn green but his face matched the brat and had anyone been looking, they'd have run screaming.

That was the end of that. Pet the cat. Give another watermelon shooter to the brat, he looks good in green. Besides, he's quiet.