2009 Archives


“Shot in the leg,
And they’re to blame,
Mommy and Daddy give love a bad name!”

Well, I have to report that Mommy and Daddy are EVIL.  To start off the new year, they locked us in our PTU’s yesterday morning, and put us in The Room That Moves.  I was lucky to get one all to myself, while Meerkat and Panda Bear got squeezed into one.

We had no idea where we were going, until we stopped and Mommy and Daddy started carrying us into a place that smelled eerily familiar.

They took us to the V-E-T !!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh, the horrors!

First the lady in the red clothes took us out one at a time.  She put us on a flat surface and called out a number.  For me, she said “thirteen point six pounds”.  Aaaack!  She was weighing us!

For the record, Panda bear was 12.6, and Meerkat was 10.4.  (padre! how dares you.  a lady doesn’t ever tell her age or her weight.  i am offended!  Love, Meerkat.)

After the weighing came the waiting. That was exploration time!  Mommy held me close and started babbling about how good of a kitty I was, but I was itching to escape.

Then, she tried to calm down Meerkat.  As you can see, Meerkat was simply terrified.

Panda Bear, however, was “Mr. Adventure”.  First he stood on the table and sniffed around.

Then he tried to sniff the other corner of the room.  Luckily he didn’t try to jump up!

Then, he started doing his acrobatics.  What a showoff:

This time we saw a lady named “Dr. Jillian”.  She took each of us one at a time and started “examining” us.  I hid in my carrier, but I know she took Panda Bear first.  It was hard to see what was happening, but I did hear a loud pop! at one point.

Then she took Meerkat.  No pop for her.

Then it was my turn.   Mommy had to yank me hard out of my PTU.  I didn’t want to go!

Then I was in their grasp.  Dr. Jillian squeezed my belly.  She put a piece of cold metal on me and held it there for a few seconds.  The lady with the red clothes held me really, really tightly … and then … Dr. Jillian squeezed some of my furs … and SHE SHOT ME IN THE LEG!  OOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!

Then she shot me AGAIN!

Then she flipped me over and shot me ONE MORE TIME … this last time with a loud poppy sounding shooter in my back right leg.  Same sound as I heard with Panda Bear.  Hoomph!   Something about being to protect against “loo-kee-mee-uh”.

Then the lady with the red clothes started picking at my teeths!  Dr. Jillian said I have “tartar buildup” and a little bit of “gingeevitus” … whatever that is.  My teeths feel fine.  Hoomph!

Finally, I was able to get back in my PTU.  Panda Bear and Meerkat were directly across from me in their PTU.  They were both looking sleepy at this point, and I was feeling a little tired, too.

Next thing I know we were being carried back out to The Room That Moves.  Not long afterward Mommy and Daddy carried us back into the house and opened the doors to the PTU’s.

Yay!  Freedom!

Pretty soon I was feeling sleepy.  So was Panda Bear.  He really zonked out and barely moved for many hours, which made Mommy and Daddy a little worried.  He must have got shot worse than I did.

Eventually, he turned around, and then moved to another part of the house.

That was our start to this new year.  I overheard Mommy saying that we have to go back to be shot again in a few weeks.  I’ve already started planning my escape route.


Mom Here.  The Furry Bambinos said that I could post today, in honor of Mohawk.  Today is the anniversary of the day Mohawk entered our lives.  Poignantly, it is also the anniversary of the day Mohawk left us to live at the Rainbow Bridge.

On Friday, January 11, 1991, we adopted Mohawk.  You can read about his adoption tale here.  I wrote about it last year.  This year, I thought I would tell some other “Mohawk stories”.

Mohawk was a real cuddle-cat.  He loved to sit on laps.  He especially liked to climb inside my clothes, while I was in them!

He would hang out for awhile, then leave.  It looked like I was pregnant when Mo was inside my shirt with me.  He also liked to pin us down so we had to cuddle with him longer.

Mo really loved David too.  He would hang out on David’s lap …

… or shoulder.  Mo loved be close to us.

While Mo was very friendly with us, it was not the case with certain medical personnel.  You know, V-E-T’s.

For most of his life, Mo’s V-E-T was a great lady VET, “Dr. D.”, who does strictly house calls.  Imagine!  No forcing a cat into a PTU, then into the car, only to listen to complaints the whole way there.  The tricky part was extricating Mo from his hiding place when she arrived.  But by strategically closing doors to most of the rooms prior to her visit, I would limit the hiding places.

In order to be examined, I had to wrap Mohawk in a blanket.  We would pull out only those parts that were needed.  He would scream and yell at the top of his lungs.  I lived in apartments back then, and I think that Mo’s M.O. was to alert the neighbors with his screams, in hopes that they would call the ASPCA on me.

Mo also used the Scream At the Top of His Lungs approach when having his nails trimmed.  I had to wrap Mo in a blanket to trim his nails, only pulling out one leg at a time.  One time, Clyde became so agitated at Mohawk’s screams, that Clyde came over and BIT me on the leg!  He was trying to protect his brother from Mean Mommy who had the audacity to trim Mohawk’s nails.  Mohawk would get a cat treat afterwards if he did not hiss, spit, or bite me while getting his nails trimmed.  (He didn’t earn many treats.)

When Mohawk got cancer late in his life, Dr. D. referred us to a regular clinic.  At the clinic, Mo did his usual performance of carrying on.  He also BIT one of the V-E-T’s, earning him a great big V for Vicious on his medical chart.  I know that Mohawk is disappointed that none of the current Furry Bambinos are carrying on his tradition when going to the V-E-T.

Mohawk was a very graceful and athletic kitty.  He was skilled at jumping, and liked to get to very high places.  When he was a kitten, we used to play a game of “Mohawk in the Middle”.  David and I would toss a plush ball back and forth to each other with Mohawk in-between us.  The main object of the game to see how acrobatic Mohawk would get while going for the ball.

Meerkat is acrobatic too, and reminds us of Mo when she flies through the air.  Panda Bear reminds me of Mo when he hangs out on the table with us during meals.  And Padre reminds us of Mo the way he likes to play the “belt game”.  Mo would bite and bunny-kick the belt and show it who’s boss.

Mohawk was particularly fond of his sock toy.  Here’s a picture of Mo playing with his sock from his kittenhood days.

Thanks for indulging me in sharing a few Mohawk stories and photos with you.


Greetings kittehs!  It was very loud here at Casa Furry Bambino last night.  This is why:

Something about winning The Big Game and going to The Super Bowl.  (I guess you can tell where Mom grew up.)  She made me wear that Terrible Towel thing after the game was over.

What I wanna know is, how much Stinky Goodness would fit inside a Super Bowl?


i have a confession to make.  i have discovered that i like to cuddle …  with Padre!

you see, here in northeast O-Hi-o, it gets very cold and snowy in the winter.  it’s the kind of weather that makes me grateful to be formerly feral.  i like being an indoor kitty.

but still, i enjoy a nice warm spot, and so does Padre.  we like to cuddle together near the heat vent in the Mohawk and Clyde Shrine (AKA bedroom / mommy’s office).  see this picture that daddy took of us while we were sleeping:

is it bad to like to cuddle with your “brother”?  Padre isn’t really my brother.  i mean, he’s not my biological brother.  he’s my adopted brother.

on the other hand, Panda Bear is my real brother, my biological brother.  i think it’s gross to get cuddly with him, on account of he has cooties.  some of you may like to cuddle with your biological siblings, and that’s ok as long as they don’t have cooties.


Mom Here: Those of you with weak stomachs should skip this post.

Panda Bear Here: Mom made me let her say that. What a wuss!

OK, so if some kitty eats food, and the food goes to their tummy, it’s still food, right?

Well, then, if some kitty’s tummy decides to hork up that food, it’s still food, right?

So what’s wrong if some other kitty (like me) decides to sample that pile of hork? It’s still food, right? I dare say it is the epitome of Stinky Goodness.

For some reason, Mom and Dad try to deter me from sampling hork piles. They just don’t understand good cuisine.


We have quite possibly the world’s dumbest mousies in our neighborhood. Specifically, in our basement.

Now let me first explain that as a Cat of the Cloth, I am a pacifist when it comes to prey. Sure, I will get all excited with Panda Bear and Meerkat, but I never lay a paw on the mousies. Or a tooth.

On the other paw, Meerkat and Panda Bear are warm-blooded killers. Murderers! There have been three murders in the past three days. I gave the mousies the last rites, and then said prayers for them before Daddy performed the burials.

You’d think that word would get out in the mouse community to STAY AWAY from the one-eyed monster and his sister. In the meantime, I continue to prey, er I mean, pray, for the souls of the mousies. And for the dark little souls of Panda Bear and Meerkat.