An "A" for Her Indifference and Fattitude

I'm not really sure how Princess has managed to become the star of this blog. She's by far the least interesting of the bunch -- most compliant at the vet's office, least likely to claw, hit, bite.

At the same time, perhaps she is most typical of the species in her fatness and her general catly indifference, far preferring my shoes to my actual person. (See attached)

Oh, and she is a Princess.

Like a Little Old Lady

Getting Monster's teeth cleaned (and any number of extractions, as deemed necessary) wouldn't be worth it, the vet said.

Obviously, a cat has to be put all the way under for something like this, and Monster is old. "It would be like putting a 95-year-old little old lady under anesthesia," she explained.

Monster is probably about 17. He's a boy, but the image of the little old lady fit somehow and has stuck ever since. He's a scrawny little thing. Though he's Siamese, his points are a faint, pale brown, which has the effect of making him seem old -- like a white-haired old man.

He's always been grumpy, too. Actually, he looks like he could be related to Grumpy herself. "Get off of my lawn, you kids!" one can imagine him yelling. Recently Monster was scratching his ears a lot and seemed to lose a bit of his brown fur in the area as a result. My boyfriend suggested that maybe this was simply male pattern baldness.

So yes, he seems old.

At the same time, he's a cat. Which means he's incredibly athletic for an oldster! He can be spotted leaping at least a foot straight up into the air just to hop over one of his cat siblings (who happens to be in his way).  Too grumpy for a simple "excuse me". He's also been seen leaping halfway across the room, from the desk where he's climbed, all the way over to the chest of drawers, on top of which is a bowl of crunchy food. He does this with the grace of a ballerina or Olympic athlete.

Oh, Monster! You're not getting that old, are you?

You've still got it, old man!

Catputer Decoy a Success!

Ha! It has worked at last!

I had my doubts. You see, I come from the school of thought that says, if a cat knows that something is for her, she'll never use it. One must not say, "Here, kitty! Look what I bought for you!" In fact, it is best that one not buy the thing at all.

"Here, kitty! Look what I made for you!" won't work too well, either. For example, if you think about it, one need not "make" an empty toilet paper roll. If, however, one unthinkingly drops one on the floor, then presto! Instant cat toy.

A cat's interest can be neither purchased nor "made" by man or woman. No.

It is best, in fact, to not even think too loudly, "Gee, I hope that if I put this box on my desk next to the computer, my cat will sit in it instead of on the computer!"

Which is of course the reason it took months for the catputer decoy box to work. You see, I had to stop thinking about it for it to work. And we all know how hard it is to stop thinking about something when all you can think is, "Whatever you do, don't think about how nice it would be for the cat to sit in the box!"

It also doesn't hurt that the box is technically way, way too small -- nonexistent, almost! Cats can't resist a challenge.

Suicide by Cat

"Awww, what a sweet little kit -- OUCH!"

So, I've forgotten why I named him "Monster," have I?

She's Mighty, Mighty

No, this isn't a photo of my cat pole dancing. Or is it? This is actually a photo of her using the cold, hard, metal table leg as a pillow, which is her recent favorite thing to do all day -- it would seem that when one is warm and furry and softy and squishy, a hard, cold piece of metal makes the best pillow.

Ask Princess if she gives a crap. (She doesn't). The vet took one look at her and said, "No, no, no! Bathing suit season is coming! This will never do!" And yet, of the three cats (all of them 10 years or older and thus "elderly") she's the one who was determined to be healthy as a horse, and so, I was told, go ahead and have her put under for a teeth cleaning; why not? For that matter, she's the only one who never has weird gunk in her ears that makes me worry that maybe she has ear mites. In fact, there's never anything wrong with her. Big is beautiful! she says, strutting her stuff such that the boys run away when her tiny but extremely round body is approaching: boom, boom, boom.

And yet the vet suggested I feed her less. Hardly possible, really, when one of her cat siblings looks like he'd starve to death if he missed a meal. How does one really separate these cats from one another when they're eating (without making oneself an even crazier crazy cat lady)?

How about you put the food inside a box with an entrance she can't fit through, the vet suggested. I have since seen whole memes dedicated to such a thing.

So I compromised and started putting the food bowl up on top of a dresser, meaning that a kitty must first climb and then athletically leap -- both before and after a meal. Maybe it's even good for ol' Scrawny Pants! Build him some muscle tone! Turn him into Mr. Universe.

Okay, fine. I am the worst cat parent ever. Next thing you know, I'll be further enabling her by buying her a cute little cat fatkini to wear to the beach.

I Can Haz Phinger?

Cat Librarians!!!!!

Omg, do people know about the cats that live on the grounds of the Bedford branch of the Brooklyn Public Library (on Franklin)? I've seen them there for years -- when I'm paying attention, that is. If you're just walking south on your way to the C or Franklin Shuttle on Fulton Street, you might notice a cat just hanging out, inside the bars of the fence around the grounds of the library. But if you look past that one cat, you'll notice another one. And then another. And then another! One might be sitting right next to the brick wall of the library building itself. Another might be lounging in the middle of the ground. A few might be hanging out along the other side of the fence. Cats cats cats! Insanity!

I don't actually know how many cats live on the library grounds. I don't know if they're related to each other or what, but They Wuv Each Other(!!!!) I know this because if you stand there and make trilling noises, one will come up to say hi to you, and a few minutes later another one will come up to say hi, and the two of them will start brushing up against each other in a little Cat Dance of Wuv. You just want to reach your hand in through the bars of that little cat zoo and do some serious heavy petting and take them home with you; it's like an illness. Then you get all worried that if you walk away they'll follow you -- or, worse, run out into the street and get hurt.

No worries, though. You walk away, and they stay put. They're glad you paid a visit, but they're home. They watch you go with their big flirtatious eyes. They seem to have enough to eat somehow, and they also have each other.

You're the one who suddenly doesn't know how you can live your life without them. Squeeeeeeee!

Cat on a Hot Kitchen Floor

I always ridiculed people who entertained the idea of leaving the air conditioning on for their cats. I grew up without air conditioning and personally waited until I was 39 years old to actually buy a unit (after living in the heat trap that is NYC for more than 15 years, mind you). I still hardly use my air conditioner -- especially now that I'm going into freelancing and am pretty broke. I live on the ground floor in Brooklyn and have trees and foliage right outside my window, all of which keeps it relatively cool in my apartment as long as it's in the mid-70s or cooler overnight so I can put a box fan in the window. During the day I just close the curtains to keep the sun out and shut the windows to trap the air inside.

Unfortunately we're in the middle of a heatwave right now, with temperatures not dropping below the 80s even over night, so there's only so much one can do. I can walk around practically naked, but my cats are still wearing their fur coats. I feel bad for them.

They don't seem to share my philosophy about staying inside where the outdoor climate can be blocked out. Even when it's really hot, some of them seem to prefer spending all down outside, where even in the shade it's got to be 90 degrees if you ask me. Seems crazy, but we cat people tend to respect a cat's choices as much as possible, so they do what they want!

The biggest problem comes if I'm going to be away overnight. Even when the nights are cool enough, I don't really want to leave a window fan blowing outdoor air in because that just makes things worse once the day warms up and I'm not home yet. I don't want to just leave the cats outside to eat fireflies either, so I always lure them indoors before I go for the night.

But then what should I do? I agonize over this. Leave the windows open so that they at least have fresh air? Isn't that kind of silly? I mean, I wouldn't be worried about "fresh air" if it were winter, would I?

But it gets stuffy! Should I go all-out catlady crazy and run the air conditioner for them? Leave the window open in one room and shut in the other? Have the fan blowing the hot air out?

I can't believe I agonize over this. Even when I'm home with the air conditioning on, they don't necessarily gravitate toward the coolness. I sometimes realize that one of my cats seems to be missing. I think, that's funny -- I don't remember letting Monster outside, so where is he?

That's when I wander into the kitchen, this poorly-insulated extension that is easily twice as hot as any other place in my apartment, and find him sprawled out on the floor.

Here I am, making myself sick with worry about whether he'll be comfortable. When given the choice, he doesn't gravitate toward the air conditioner or the fan or the coolest room or even an open window. Instead, he goes to the hottest place in the whole house. Maybe for him it's like day at the spa, basking in the sauna. To each his own.

My Cats Have Inexpensive Taste in Clothes & Won't be Going to College

Part of getting a home loan modification a few years back meant agreeing to do a "credit counseling" session over the phone.

Fine. I'm sure there were people going through the process because they'd spent all of their money on horse races and prostitutes, but considering that I didn't even carry a credit card balance at the time (still don't), don't have cable TV or an iPhone or an iAnything and pretty much subsist on rice, beans, and occasional one-day "vacation getaways" to Brighton beach for $2.50 on my Metrocard, it seems like in my case they could have put their staff resources to better use.

Pretty much the only place in my budget that seemed to raise a red flag was the fact that I -- gasp! -- have pets.

I'm not sure. Maybe the woman on the phone was supposed to suggest that I tie them up in a bag and throw them in the East River?

At some point I just said, "Uh huh" a lot and stopped listening, only bothering to throw in little insincere chuckle and a "They're a lot cheaper than having kids!" to which the woman agreed and actually laughed.

Um, yeah, but seriously.

White Floors = Bad Idea

Apparently, floor paint does not come in a color called "regurgitated cat food," but I'm hoping this darker color is a bit more practical than the white, which I liked better in theory (but which pretty much looked filthy all the time and thus made me feel like a bad cat mom).

There's still lots of touch-up to do, but, as you can see, The Katz are pretty eager to give this whole thing (i.e., their barely digesting stomachs) a whirl.

before

after

Viscious Hell Beast

Forget what I said about vet visits no longer being a nightmare. The ride to and from may have been great, but MadMax was up to his old tricks of crying bloody murder when the vet took him back to get a blood sample. The vet says he actually screamed the loudest while he was being cleaned up afterwards with a wet cloth. I had a chance to glimpse at his chart while he was in the other room and noticed the word "CAUTION" written in all caps and highlighted in the upper right corner. Nice touch!