Thursday, December 17, 2015

A Rat at the Door

Did anyone just hear me scream? I opened the front door for the cats to go play outside and then went about doing the dishes. After that, I went out to play with the boys and
Boris in rat kill reenactment
there was a giant mouse (really a rat, but that sounds even more disturbing) about a foot from the door. 

Naturally I yell"what the hell is that," because rodents are known communicators and will often answer when asked a question. Boris, mistakes my question for a "let's play with that," statement and decides it should be closer to me if I am going to experience the true pleasure of playing with it. 

It is at that precise moment that "eeeyahhh oh gross, no Boris," bubbles out of my mouth. Then Whiskey decides to join in, and they are both sitting around the creature, which I realized one of them has already killed while I was being Donna Domestic in the house.
Whiskey exaggerating the size and viciousness of the rodent
Now I have to dispose of it, which is oh so upsetting for a cat who hunted for and gifted me with its kill. Thankfully I have one of those dustpans with a handle that you use while standing up. I sweep the poor thing up oscillating between words of praise to the cats and "get the hell away from it." 
I put the rat in a clear plastic trash bag and left it on the porch intending to put shoes on and take it to the trashcan that is outside the yard ready for pickup. 

The tea kettle went off, the phone rang and the day was kicking into gear, so I was otherwise busy and lost my focus on the task at hand. Ten minutes later, I was reading Email and heard a plastic bag rustling. I jumped up and sped to the door and found Boris dragging the bag into the house with his teeth, not by the handles, but by the rat at the bottom of the bag.
I wonder how long it will be that every toy mouse in the house freaks me out. Send Xanax.

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Sunday, December 6, 2015

Oh, Christmas Tree part 2

I wanted to have a living document that I had a Christmas tree in 2015. As of one half hour after decoration, one ornament has been destroyed.

It was of cat design and given to me by a friend. I had tucked it away near the top of the tree, where it spent its last minutes of freedom with its peers, silver ball guy and Lisa Simpson.

Goodbye white kitty sitting on a red pillow. Although we never had the chance to get to know each other, I am sure you were a fine decoration meant for greatness. I apologize for Boris killing you.

While I was sitting reading a  book in the room where the tree is staying, it started to shake and the ornaments made tinkling noises. Guess who was under the tree.

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Saturday, December 5, 2015

Oh, Christmans Tree

Every year I usually put up a fake Christmas, a shiny metallic-red one with green and pink lights and everything from Simpsons ornaments to glass orbs from the forties now chipped and lacking their former luster.

Whiskey obscures the tree
Whiskey has never been very playful and would prefer to sit under the tree occasionally drinking from the built in watering hole in the tree stand reservoir where I am convinced he also has a mini fridge full of ham sandwiches and perhaps a can of lard, the boy is large.

Boris joined the family last year and everything changed.
The joy and laughter that is created from a young cat and Christmas is one Norman Rockwell failed to capture in his family-that-never-was series now festooned on plates and calendars.

Of course there are rules for the safety of the furry set such as covered wiring to prevent needle sharp teeth from gnawing through, no tinsel to prevent choking or intestinal blockage, and stay away from those tree preservatives to prevent poisoning--your cat should last longer than the tree.
Boris planning his route to the top of the tree

For the less adventurous, or people with high blood pressure, an anchored tree might be best because unlike Weebles who wobble but don't fall down--your tree will when climbed, batted and attacked.

Most ornaments are bright and shiny and ball-like in shape and behavior, so the family heirlooms do not belong within a cat's reach, which basically means they should be in a box stored in the rafters in the garage.

Use cheap bulbs for the first couple of years you celebrate the holidays with a youthful cat, and don't put too much effort into painstakingly placing each one on the perfect branch. Odds are that some of your design efforts will wind up under the couch, in the bathtub or even on the porch.

Remember that cats will want to help decorate, or rather strip, the tree. Sometimes they will fixate on one ornament like a hunter in the wild and other times, it is all the ornaments on the right quadrant of the tree.

If you are fortunate enough to live with multiple cats, destruction can ramp up rapidly, but I prefer to see it as full throttle fun. So, sit back, sip some eggnog and let the games begin.

More photos to come as Christmas with Cats continues.

Every Color Deserves a Forever Home

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Tuesday, November 24, 2015

Black Friday My Way

My Black Friday will begin like that of many other people. The alarm will go off at 4 a.m. urging me to drag my mashed potato and gravy filled body from the comfort of my bed. The difference is that my clock is a cat. Boris begins his day before the sun rises by meowing incessantly in multiple octaves then leaping behind the window blinds followed by a catapult back out landing his 15 pound form onto my shoulder, chest, or back. I usually growl "be quiet" and dramatically throw the covers over my head.
Give the gift of life, it will change yours

Whiskey snores curled up next to me joyfully oblivious that Boris is even alive. The annoying one will keep up with his Mariah Carey vocal skills until I threaten him with stories of cats who live outside and don't get canned food.

When I do finally get out of bed instead of rushing off for a day of standing in line with hundreds of others hoping to get one of three in stock 50 % off iPads or drastically reduced Lady Schick razors, I will spend the day doing Black Friday my way, playing with two black cats.
The best way to spend Black Friday

During this day of shopping frenzy with

Christmas carols blaring, credit card friction burns and people shoving carts where they don't belong, there is gift that will warm your heart for years to come. Many animal shelters and rescue organizations waive or reduce adoption fees the day after Thanksgiving for animals with black fur
Proof that black cats aren't evil

I say put down that best boss coffee mug, toss aside that juicer Aunt Matilda will only use for a week, and for God's sake how many different salt and pepper shakers does your grandmother need. Check in with your local shelter and get in line for a doorbuster that really matters--that of a cage door busting open releasing the purest example you will ever find of unconditional love. Please, adopt don't shop this holiday season.

Psst... If you are going to take part in traditional Black Friday fanfare, Whiskey wants treats and Boris wants toys with feathers, and that the living room be turned into a giant cat tree and condo. He has removed the blinds and clawed his way through the arm of the couch to help with construction.  He is such a giver.

Every Color Deserves a Forever Home
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Thursday, November 19, 2015

Backoff Christmas, Thanksgiving is still Coming

Whiskey speaking for the season, the other one.
Dear retailers, just a little reminder that it is still fall and there is Thanksgiving to be had before even one verse of 12 Days of Christmas crosses anyone's lips.

As a cat, I rather enjoy turkey. I do not care for that mincemeat pie you humans eat at the next holiday--the one in winter. Pssst other cats, it has no meat in it. It is things like this that make felines a superior species. Humans also call things "pairs" when they are singular items such as a pair of scissors, pants, pliers and on it goes. When I say I want a pair of fish, I mean two. Do not try to rip me off. 

Remember these are the beings who gave us animal grouping names such as a wisdom of wombats (cats are wiser), a pack of dogs (please one of them is too much), a company of parrots ( ever try to have a conversation with
Boris depressed over the dismissal of Thanksgiving
a parrot, they say the same thing over and over) a troubling of goldfish (the only troubling thing is when humans put a lid on the fish tank) and a murder of crows (I'd like to murder a few). A group of felines is called a glaring of cats. Okay that one is pretty accurate.

I think my little brother Boris would like to say something about the thankless treatment of Thanksgiving. 

Dear Santa, I want a box of cat nip, some mice

What? Boris you insufferable small-headed little cat. Did you not hear what I just said. 

Oh come on Whiskey the damn hardware store had Christmas decorations up in October. Next year, they will probably be up the day after Easter. That would be ironic, now wouldn't it? I might be little,
Boris defending fall foliage in California
but I too am wise to these humans. They aren't very smart, so you have to keep reminding them of things. I bring a toy mouse into mom's bed every morning to let her know I need more of them. At least 20 in each room of the house. Same with Santa. He is known for being jolly not sharp-witted. You have to give him your list early.

I, Whiskey Pickle Jones, give up. This generation of felines is hopeless. What's next? Opposable thumbs or tail wagging. 

Everyone at Cat Noir CC wishes you all a happy and healthy Thanksgiving. 

Mom, Thanksgiving is still a week away.

Let it go Whiskey.

Every Color Deserves a Forever Home

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Tuesday, November 10, 2015

Work Photo Day Disaster

It was touch and go for a bit this morning, but alas I made it to work despite everything that could go wrong doing just that. Today is picture day at work. I get my picture taken twice a year, one for my press pass and one for the company Christmas card. As of the last two years, when I went to the sheriff’s department for the press pass, I didn’t show up in the photo. Either I am a vampire or something was wrong with their system. But, on to photo number two for the year.

Boris isn't not as stealthy as he thinks he is
Normally I arrive at the office in shorts, a t-shirt, and sandals, but since this Christmas card thing will be going out in droves, I decided to take a little extra time for makeup and all that crap. Naturally, I didn’t want to get out of bed any earlier, so I was jamming.   

I got out of the shower and hear Boris trying to climb through the window blinds, which is a big no-no that I have to say “no-no” to about 30 times a day. In fact I keep a squirt bottle next to my pillow for these occasions. I dart to the blinds without any knowledge that the little fur demon has knocked over the cup of water by my bed. It has a lid, but this is Boris, so a puddle of water is on the wood floor which causes me to careen across stopping only when I slam into the nightstand, which oddly enough sent Boris flying from the blinds.

Up next is face powder, which I open and then promptly drop on the floor, open end down, and poof it is all over the black rug I had just cleaned.

Whiskey in the sink, toothbrush underneath
While I am, trying to pick that up Boris strolls off with the makeup brush and Whiskey jumps in the sink knocking my toothbrush in with him. “Screw it,” I said “I will go sans powder.”

I jump into black pants, a black shirt and red boots, it is after all a Christmas photo. As I said so many sentences ago, I wear sandals all the time, so the shoelaces are a new source of play for Boris. That is 40 joy filled holes I have to lace the string through with a cat attacking every one of them. Yes, I am late by this time and run into the bathroom in my big boots and kick over the cats’ water bowl. 

Finally, I am ready to sneak out the door, I throw a toy for Boris and a treat for Whiskey, so I can escape without them getting out. Upon reaching the gate my mild OCD kicks in, and back I go to peer in the window to see that all the stove knobs are turned off. I didn’t use the stove that morning or the night before because I wasn’t even home, but you never know. 

I make it to the car after saying “off, off, off, off,” (one for each knob) and am ready to zip to the office. I put the car in gear and suddenly it hits me, my computer is still in the house. And, it begins anew.

I just know I forgot to lock my front door.

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Sunday, November 1, 2015

Dia de Los Muertos and Thankful November

Dia de Los Muertos is a holiday celebrating life and honoring the departed.
Well, now that you mention it, I am handsome.
It is a time to welcome the spirits of family members who have died. In my case, that includes the many wonderful pets I have been lucky enough to share my life with. 

Mom, I don't want to dress up. I want to play.
Today is also the start of Thankful November. I am thankful for all the people who have supported Cat Noir CC since it started in late July. We now have more than 300 followers on twitter, more than 200 page likes on and of course you guys who subscribe to the blog. We are looking for more subscribers because those numbers as well as Facebook's are what helps get the message out to more people. 

If you have a friend who loves cats, please share the blog with them. If you have no friends, I can introduce you to people, but they aren't as cool as cats. 
Whiskey at his finest while clearly doing mind control

This is the first time in my life I have put clothing on a pet, but I couldn't resist. Boris was pretty much a breeze, which is odd since he creates so much havoc with everything else. Whiskey is a large cat with a big head, huge teeth and powerful paws, thus not only do collars and other such things fail to fit him, but it can be a dangerous feat to attempt. Oddly, he was so jealous of Boris and the tie that he walked up, put his paw on the middle of Boris's back and bit him. Then he displayed some other aggressive behavior that is normally reserved for when his little brother is driving him nuts. 

Not wanting to let my  4.0 in psychology go to waste, cat therapy began. I brought the tie over to Whiskey and it fit, better yet, I'm still alive. He wore it until I took it off of him for dinner. My gag reflex doesn't go well with cleaning wet cat food off of ties. 

Whiskey realizing he is wearing a tie.
I must go, another day in the physical world awaits. Boris just came scampering in with his favorite ball that he had taken outside and that is now tangled with rotting leafs. Thankfully he dropped it on my desk right next to the computer. I can take a hint.

"To live in hearts we leave behind
Is not to die."

~Thomas Campbell, "Hallowed Ground"

One more of Boris because he is so damn cute

Friday, October 30, 2015

Happy Halloween

Whiskey as Lon Chaney in Phantom of the Opera, 1925
Once a pagan holiday celebrating the end of harvest, Halloween was also believed to be a day when spirits could leap into our realm and walk amongst the living.

But that was a really long time ago, and today ghouls, goblins, zombies and, for some odd reason if you are an adult, slutty nurses and fornicating farm girls take to the streets or house party to consume tasty treats, which for  adults often means plenty of alcohol.

What better way to bridge the connection between spirits and the physical world than with Fireball laced breath and a stagger in your step. After all, "I love you man," is the customary way to greet a specter. 
Boris redoing the skeletons I put on the fence
While you are deciding what costume to wear, what candy to dole out to little trick-or-treaters or whether or not to disable your doorbell, there is a furry member of your family that needs to creep its way into your thoughts. If you are lucky enough to share your life with a cat or a few of them, they need to be kept indoors especially at night for the days surrounding Halloween.

Black cats are often more at risk during Halloween because of folklore that has them in cahoots with the occult and all things evil. They are associated with bringing bad luck and being a witch's familiar. During the Salem witch trails, cats were often tortured and killed along with humans deemed to be practicing witchcraft.

Because humans can really be evil, many shelters will not allow black cats to be adopted during the month of October for fear people will harm the animal or simply get rid of it after the Halloween decorations come down.

Boris and the short-lived Halloween tree
But, fear not oh great lover of cats, you can still have Halloween fun with your favorite bundle of fur. Cats are interior decorators at heart. They love decorations, they just don't like where humans put them, so they will rearrange or remove or break stuff they don't approve of.

Remember all that candy you bought to pass out to kids, the extra 5 bags just in case this is the year a ton of little firefighters, princesses and devils appear on your doorstep, cats don't want it. Even better, they won't judge you as you shove that fifth Reese's peanut butter cup into your mouth the second it turns dark. They're bite size, right?
Step aside, this one needs CPR

If you do decide to go out for the evening and come home with Frankenstein green makeup smeared in places it shouldn't be all over your lusty librarian costume, your cats will still welcome you with purrs and head butts. Don't view that look of disdain as judgement for that night's behavior, it is at the bottom of a very long list.

Remember this is our holiday, not theirs. Please keep them indoors. They might be frightened by people coming and going, chased by people who think filming a scared animal would make a funny youtube video, or could even be in danger from increased vehicle traffic.

Whiskey exhibiting his typical enthusiasm

Now that October is coming to an end, black cats in shelters all over need loving homes. They are not bad luck or any of the other dark things associated with them. They are a CAT, and it doesn't get much better than that.

In the words of Groucho Marx, "A black cat crossing your path signifies that the animal is going somewhere."

Happy Halloween from all of us at Cat Noir CC.

Every Color Deserves a Forever Home

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Thursday, October 15, 2015

Winner winner

Boris with one of 40 toys
Guess who just got the best email. I did. Petco named me (well really Boris) a winner in the Adopt a Shelter Dog contest. Boris seems to be the only cat among the winners. I get a $75 gift card to spoil the boys but even better a donation of $75 from Petco will be made to the rescue organization of my choice. I picked the Feline Network of the Central Coast.

Sadly, Whiskey didn't win, but he is getting big hugs, more cuddle than he can stand and extra treats because he isn't quite large enough. Yay to Boris. This is his photo. He has modeled for Tally Farms Fresh Harvest and L'Oréal Paris - Féria, and now Petco.
Maybe next time I will enter them in the kitchen appliance of the month contest. I could use a new. . . well everything with child proofing on it for Breaking Boris, more on that soon. 

Remember to consider adoption rather than shopping. Animals love without wallets or Kardashian mentality. Then again Whiskey always does get the fluffiest blanket in the house, the first lick of a new container of sour cream and

Whiskey is more of an outdoor man.
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Every Color Deserves a Forever Home

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Saturday, October 3, 2015

The Outlook

Be still my heart

Okay, they're here. Everybody yell surprise. This is going to be so great

Boris: Fresh crawfish, don't let anyone come near it.

Whiskey: I'm not in the mood. We're all going to die anyway.

Boris: Could this day be any better?
The sun, the flies, the smells, people watching.

                                                                                    Whiskey: I guess. If you're into that kind off stuff

Check out how big my muscles are when I flex. Dude, can you see that. No, man I'll work on my legs another time. It's all about upper body.

Seriously, how many chins do I have? Is this what I look like all the time now? I'm a cow. I'm dieting starting tomorrow.

There's something about being all dressed up and outside in the fresh air. It just makes a cat feel good about himself and ready to catch the biggest fish, the fastest mouse and swiftest bird.

What the hell? Get this thing off of me. I'm not falling for your corporate cat crap. Take me inside and feed me NOW. I'm talking top of the line canned food. What's next a corner office?

I am so close to the toy. Hehee, I'm going to sneak up on it, throw it around in the air and pounce on it. Just when it thinks I am done, I will run from room to room with it in my mouth and then throw it in the bath tub.

So this it it, the new toy?  You say it cost a lot? No, I love it. I'll play with it soon. How does April or May sound to you?

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Thursday, September 24, 2015

Adopt Don't Shop and Remember Me Thursday

ADOPT It will change the beat of your heart like these two rock stars did mine.

September 22, is
Remember me Thursday. Annually it  is the fourth Thursday of September. The campaign was created  to honor the millions of pets who lost their lives in shelters while waiting for a loving home. It also serves to shine a light on the  healthy pets who are still awaiting adoption.

Learn more about the movement at Remember their world is our responsibility.

Cat Noir Central Coast (CC) encourages people to adopt black cats because they are euthanized up to 50 percent more often than their colorful brothers and sisters in the cat world.

These cats are no different from cats with different colored fur. As proven by Whiskey and Boris, they are beautiful, playful, loving animals.

If you are already incredibly cool and have a few frisky felines roaming around your house,
bed, bookshelves, or simply sitting contently on your lap, donate your time to a shelter, donate whatever monetary funds you can to a non-profit pet project and spread the word to your friends and colleagues.

We at Cat Noir CC hope that humor helps people see how much laughter and joy a cat will bring into their lives. If you are one of those selfish what's in it for me people then listen up, caring for an animal can add years to your life, lower your blood pressure and decrease depression. It's a furry little drug that you shouldn't swallow and doesn't make pharmaceutical companies richer.

So stick it to the man, adopt a pet, save a life and experience unconditional love. Trust me, they don't care if you don't flush the toilet every time you use it, they don't care if your beard looks like creatures have been gnawing at it during the night, and they really don't care if your boobs are sagging and you haven't shaved your legs since the Reagan years. Not that I personally have any of those conditions, but I know people who are dangerously close.

Rock on adopters, be a real hero and not that plastic guitar, button pushing type bouncing around to Foghat in your mother's basement. But, even if that is who you are, your pet will still curl up with you and adore every song.

Every Color Deserves a Forever Home
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Tuesday, September 22, 2015

Viral Pope

The Pope is here, let's get him to visit Boris who has been preparing for this moment.

Remember all those pleas from teachers and students to repost or reply on Facebook
to teach a lesson about the Internet, well this is a Catholic version. Help Boris go viral and share, tweet, shout or send smoke signals. Maybe Pope Francis can clarify his beliefs about whether animals really do go to heaven.
In a general meeting at the Vatican last year, Pope Francis said, “Holy Scripture teaches us that the fulfillment of this wonderful design also affects everything around us,” leading some to believe that he was suggesting all animals do in fact go to heaven.
Conservative Roman Catholic belief is that animals do not go to heaven because they do not have souls.

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Sunday, September 20, 2015

Snail Sex and Marsmallow Worms

It was midnight, after an amazing writers conference, I was exhausted from the heat, the long days, the nervousness of personal critiques, the overwhelming inspiration from a faculty of writers that have given us so many great books and movies, and then I see this thing.

Gigantic green thing outside my door waiting to lunge.
I fed the cats a really late dinner and was tossing the can in the trash and noticed it just outside my door. At first, I thought it was the top of one of those green marshmallow candy canes people that hate you buy at the Dollar Tree and give to you for Christmas. And then it moved, slowly of course because invertebrates are sneaky little sonsofbitches. In turn, I moved faster than I thought possible, because I just know that they can lunge if need be. I don't even have a plant big enough to support the weight of that thing.

Is this a tomato worm? I grew tomatoes the size of a pencil eraser, how did it get so big. Why was it trying to break into my house? Where the hell is it now? 
Doing it snail style on my doormat.

WTF is with my doorstep and the animal kingdom. There was the snail sex on the doormat that made me feel dirty. Remember snails can mate for several hours, but then go their separate ways, which is hilarious when you think about the painfully slow getaway.
Is one of them left looking longingly over their shell in hopes of a lingering glance and five hours later still staring at the backside of their stranger in the night now only two feet away?

Does this have anything to do with cats? Yes it actually does. One time when I opened my door I saw something that wasn't slimy, didn't have beady eyes nor didn't leave a trail wherever it went, but it was dead, and rather than my toes curling at the site of it, I laughed. 

A cat was in the process of trying to adopt me. She kept coming around the house, sitting under my chair when I was reading in the sun, throwing herself at the window screen at night when she wanted in and lying on my pillow next to me when I slept (okay, at that point she clearly owned me.) 

One night a neighbor had a bar-be-cue and apparently Splash, as another neighbor had named her, was on the invite list.
Splash who has since gone Over the Rainbow Bridge
When I opened the front door, I looked down to find that she had left me bar-be-cued chicken bones. Most cats leave a rodent, a bird, a lizard or whatever creature they kill as a gift, a sign of love, only one of my cats would bring leftovers from a picnic.  

Miss you and love you Splash.Whiskey sends his love to you Over the Rainbow Bridge. He has never cuddled with another cat since you passed. You were his hero.

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