Halloween: Part Two

I didn't have either battery in my cameras charged. On Halloween. Mom FAIL. (my sisters will say it is hereditary)

Sam was Minnie Mouse for Halloween.

Charlie was Alice in Wonderland for Halloween.

She never really stopped moving, this was the best picture I could get.

Sam peed herself while Trick-or-Treating and so that made for an early night.

Charlie spent most of the evening after they got home screaming at me because she wanted more candy. Girl after my own heart.

Sam did this earlier in the day, earning herself a bath.

Charlie has decided that she is never ever ever going to bed again.

Hope ya'll had a great Halloween!!

Halloween: Part One

My office had Trick-or-Treating last Friday.

No, I don't have any good super cute pictures of my kids in their Halloween costumes. I'll try again later today.

I do have this video of Sam, taken after she had about 20 minutes of unsupervised time with her C-A-N-D-Y.

To get the full effect, you have to have your volume turned up.
Disclaimer: To get the full effect, you have to have your volume turned up.



What? She likes to scream.

See Ya Felix

So, I accidentally adopted a cat. I named him Felix. Workaholic named him Roger.

3 hours after I brought Felix home, Sampson was found. Yay for Sampson! Not so yay for Felix.

It isn't that there was anything wrong with Felix, I just didn't want two cats. Especially if one of the cats was going to be inside all the time, as that means the litter box (s) have to be cleaned out a lot more often. And I hate litter boxes.

So I let him go outside. Felix, that is. Sampson always goes outside, and generally, for the most part, he finds his way home. Except for that one time when he didn't and I went out and took in another cat.

So one night, I see Felix and Sampson and Fonz and Kale outside, and it was a nice night, and so me and the girls decide to take a walk. I was going to take the dogs, but didn't want Felix following us. He didn't need to expand his horizons. (or so I thought)

I tried to catch him, and of course the damn cat didn't want to be caught. He ran under my deck. At which point I said, "Fuck it", and left him home.

Or so I thought.

Instead of staying home, Felix followed us. At a great distance, but he followed us. All the way to the end of my street. (which, to be fair, is only about 6 houses down) Again, I tried to catch him, because I like my neighbors and I didn't want another black cat stalking their houses pooping in the yards. But the damn thing refused to be caught. And I refused to chase a stupid cat.

So I let him go. And sort of forgot about him.

After the weekend, I realized he was still gone, and promptly forgot about him again. A couple of days later, I started taking more walks to the end of my street, and finally one of my neighbors asked if I was looking for my black cat. I hung my head and admitted that yes, I was indeed looking for my black cat. Not the one I have that always comes home (except for that once) but a new one. Who apparently doesn't know his way home.

And this is when something happened and I decided I didn't care if he pooped in her yard. She told me that she had been feeding him. And letting him sleep in her garage.  No wonder he didn't come home! Let's see...his choices were either a) have free roam of several rodent infested yards and free food and a warm/dry place to sleep at night, or b) being locked up in a house with 2 dogs, 2 kids, and another cat who hates you. Hell, I'd choose A too!

This neighbor stopped short of saying that she wanted to keep Felix, but she offered to bring him down whenever she found him.  (Little did I know that meant that she would walk down, put him in my yard, and then he would follow her home.) She actually said that she would love to keep him, but she was allergic. I made no secret of my desire to re-home the adorable little kitty, but knew ultimately he was still mine.

Fast forward another few weeks and I have only seen him once for a couple of days because another neighbor called when he saw him. I had long before made an appointment at the vet for Felix to get a booster shot, and it was time to take him in. I walked down to my neighbor's yard and looked for him, and shamefully rang the doorbell to see if she had seen him.

And guess what? The reason why he wasn't outside in the yard was because he was inside her house! He had food and water dishes and a litter box and he slept with her every night! He even brought her dead mice as gifts! Every day!

I was so overjoyed I couldn't be annoyed that my neighbor basically stole my cat. I took him to the vet, and immediately returned him to her, with paperwork. All she had to do is send in his microchip paperwork stating he is hers, and I am back to one cat. Wa-hooo!!!!

Regressed

Do you remember way at the end of last year when I was all, "I'm going to simplify my life." ? Yeah...I sort of regressed.

I knew at the time that the Simplification Project wasn't really going to work. I knew that there was a good chance that my husband would be taking on a HUGE project to do in his "spare time", and that project indeed did happen.

So the past 9 months have been a whirlwind of constant work for my poor husband. We did get away to Puerto Rico for a long weekend, and there have been other occasional days off here and there, but for the most part, him and his dad have been working 7 days a week since the beginning of February.

In the past 9 months, (since I am sooo smart) I pretty much gave up any sense of simplifying. I got another dog. I got another cat. (I gave away the 2nd cat the other day, wa-hoo!!!!) I've shopped relentlessly, to the exhaustion of my credit cards and bank account. My house was bursting at the seams with disorganization. But since Workaholic has "slowed down", things have gotten better. (Slowed down being relative, he now is working 6 days a week instead of 7, and usually only 12 hour days instead of 15.) He gets in these moods where he just does a clean sweep. Often that means putting things in closets and drawers, instead of sitting out on the counter. But it looks so. much. better.

Lately I've had a nasty case of writer's block. Of course, I only get it when it is time to sit down and write. When I am wandering around my house, folding laundry, or in the shower, or trying to sleep, I write the most greatest fan-tab-u-lous posts in my head. I tell you all these funny stories about what the girls or dogs or cats have done and people post it on Twitter and I get a gillion new followers.

What are those funny stories, you ask? Umm....well, there was the day that Sam took a brand new bottle of baby powder and emptied it. In her room. On her carpet. And herself. (How does a 2 year old get baby powder on her back??) Or there was the time that Kale was running into the house, at full speed, and didn't realize that the sliding glass door was closed. THUMP! And then one three nights Charlie pooped in the bathtub. Twice. Each time. (She hasn't had a bath since, showers all the way now. Although she still poops in the shower. Gross.) And Sampson. Well, he really hasn't done anything funny or cute lately. He is just being his dog/cat self. Which is pretty cool. I am quite interested in seeing how he handles the (much) colder weather and the snow, if he'll still want to go out as much. Felix, the new cat, found himself a new home down the street. So that was awesome. I dropped him off for the last time the other day. His new owner's daughter told me that the cat is now at the top of the list, as in...#1-cat, #2-dog, #3-kids, #4-husband. As it should be.

There also are not-so-funny stories. Fonz turned 12 last month. I knew he would get old. I did, I swear. But it makes me so sad seeing it happen. In the past year, he has dropped about 10lbs. I increased his food, and he gained maybe a pound. He had his annual well visit with our beloved vet Dr. P, and she noticed muscle loss in his hind end. Which helps to explain why his back legs give out on him sometimes. She also did the nerve test where you flip over his feet and see how long it take to right them. He didn't right his left hind foot. Workaholic says it is because he is so obedient, we put his foot in a position that he was waiting for permission to flip it. (Of course, I couldn't replicate it when I was showing Workaholic, so maybe he is right!) But that also explains the weakness in his back end.

Fonz is also now almost completely deaf. He can't hear you when you call, it is super easy to startle him when you walk up behind him, and when I give him commands, it has to be hand signals. Otherwise he just ignores me. (Good thing I taught him those years ago.) He has this weird tremor thing going on too. Every once in a while, he'll just be standing or laying there, and his head starts to tremble. It only last a second or two, but he is definitely unstable at that point. And can't move. Dr. P says that it could be seizures or just a palsy thing. Whatever that is. It makes me sad. I don't like it, not one little bit.

I know that Fonz's symptoms could have been gradually coming on for a while now, especially the deafness. But it just seemed to hit me like a brick wall this summer. First there was the mysterious toe infection. Then an ear infection. Then pneumonia. When all of that seemed to go away, he started trembling and completely not listening. Sigh. I am hoping he'll just stay the course now for the next couple of years. I don't expect his hearing to come back, or for his nerves to magically repair themselves. But hopefully things don't get any worse.

On a bright note, Halloween is coming! And the leaves are changing colors and being all beautiful! On a not-so-bright note, um...winter is coming. I can handle the snow. I can, really. What I can't handle is the cold that snow requires. And the length of winter. Why can't summer be as long as winter? It just seems to last for-ev-er.  And ever and ever and ever.

Next Friday I am taking the girls in to my office for our annual Trick-or-Treating at work. I love it. The little kids all look so damn cute, and the girls have adorable costumes this year. I did NOT sync their costumes, one has absolutely nothing to do with the other, there are plenty of years left for that. So I'll be sure to post super duper cute little girl costume pictures. Because my girls are cute. Or did you not know that?

OK folks, enough update for one day. I'll try to post tomorrow. I am going to Purdue football homecoming, so that may not actually happen, but we'll see. I'll try. I'll try to come up with a good story. And actually write it down instead of keeping losing it in my head.

Sampson, Roger and Felix. And Kabo.

Workaholic decided that it was time for Sampson and Felix to become friends.

So he locked them on the back porch together. (it is screened in)

And you know what? It was OK.

So Felix has been settling in nicely. He will randomly walk around meowing, like he is bored and isn't sure what to do. Or he is lost and doesn't know where anyone is.

There are 2 disturbing things about Felix.

1) We've been calling him Roger. It sort of fits. So I now use his name interchangably. It is OK, because he really doesn't know either of them. Not sure why.

2) Roger is a night owl. Last night he woke me up at midnight by bolting off of our bed and out of the bedroom. I was OK with that until I heard him sliding across the hardwood floor. And then the meowing started.


Felix likes to go outside. I am not particularly thrilled about this, seeing as how I am sure my neighbors are really not wanting 2 black cats wandering the street. (Especially with Halloween coming up. I have a feeling my house is going to be the most popular on the block.) The thing about Felix going outside is that he comes back, like...regularly. He checks back in, as if to say, "Hey, remember me? You chopped my balls off?? Where is the food?"  I am not really used to this, as Sampson will often be gone all day. But it is nice, not having to wonder. (notice I didn't say worry)

Let's recap...
Felix is now Roger. Sometimes.
Roger likes to go outside. And meow when he is confused.
Sampson did not kill Felix, and Kale is learning not to try to kill either of them.

Kabo is 12 today. Happy birthday old man.

Pictures of Felix!

Without further ado...I present Felix!

Remember, he is up for adoption...FREE TO GOOD HOME!

The One Where I am an Idiot

There is something you have to understand about me. I preach responsibility to animals. Like, I lecture people on it. Which probably gives off a very bad vibe, but sometimes I just can't help it. I have no problem telling people that they really shouldn't get a new pet if I think they can't afford it. Because working at a vet office was awful when a sick animal came in and the people were like, "I have no money." So yeah, I preach it.

Fast forward to me getting a cat. And not getting him declawed, because I really don't like that and I was really hoping he'd want to spend some time outside. And the kitty would need to be able to climb trees and defend himself from, well, whatever decides to stalk him. As much as I liked having a cat I can say I rescued, I knew that if he went missing it was probably as a meal for a coyote. (That didn't stop me from letting him out when he wanted to go, because I really detest the cleaning of the litter box.)

Fast forward to 3 1/2 weeks ago, our little Sampson saw the bags, meaning we'd be leaving town and he'd be stuck in the house, and he high-tailed it (literally) out the garage door. I threw up my hands and said, "Let him eat mice for 4 days."

And then about a week and a half went by, and no Sampson. I asked my neighbors, but no one had seen him, so I reported him lost to the company that manages his microchip. And someone saw the lost pet bulletin with his picture and saw a picture of a found cat on Craig's List, and called us. I was convinced. This was my cat. How he got miles away, I had no idea, but that was my cat.

I finally got a hold of the woman who had the cat, and got directions to her house. I walked into her garage and was like, "Sampson!" And the cat sort of just looked at me. And I picked him up and he snuggled me, and I thought, "Hmm...I'm not sure this is Sampson." His eyes were greener than I remembered, the tip of his tail wasn't lighter than the rest of him from him sucking on it, and the patch of white fur near his crotch was, well, bigger. And his purr wasn't squeaky. I was fairly certain this wasn't Sampson. (Oh yeah, and he was intact, but I didn't notice that until too late.)

However, I wanted to be sure. I wanted to get this cat scanned for a microchip, since Sampson had one. I also was pretty sure Sampson was not coming home, and had no real objections to getting a new cat. Who looked just like the old one. Isn't that what parents do when the kids' cat disappears? So I stuffed him in a carrier and took him.

Needless to say, the cat I stuffed in my carrier was NOT Sampson. (should have checked for balls) I was conflicted on what to do. Keep him? Drop him at a shelter? Give him back to the woman who found him, who would keep him outside and allow him to continue populating the earth with too many kittens? As it turns out, the decision was made for me, since our local shelter went no-kill and they had no room for this little black cat. I couldn't turn my back on the blue ribbon on the back of my van that says "Please Spay and Neuter". So I did the next most logical thing...I took him to my vet.

Once they realized what I wasn't asking them to take this cat permanently, but simply take him and vet him (with me paying the bill), they stopped laughing at me and were more than happy to take him off my hands for a couple of days. I just wanted them to neuter him, get him up to date to on his shots, and test him for feline leukemia. (negative) They laughed some more, and then took him to the back.

48 hours later, I went to pick up the new cat. I had decided I was stuck with him, so might as well make the best of it. (and then I saw my vet bill, ahh!)

Three hours later, a woman from a couple blocks away called, "I think I have your cat."

You gotta be shitting me. 

Sampson apparently either forgot how to get home or decided this lady's chair on her back porch was much more comfortable and less stressful than my house with 2 little kids and a puppy who stalked him constantly. 

I now have two cats.

I don't want two cats.

I am already sick of cleaning out the litterbox every day, and it has only been 3 days.

My desire to not be a gigantic hypocrite got me a second cat. And so I have decided to do an act of charity for the wonderful people of the Region. 

Anyone want a cat? For free??

He is very sweet, very affectionate, he just wants love and attention. And perhaps a little playtime. He is probably a little less than a year old. He weighed 7lbs 13 oz when he spent some time with my friends at the vet. He is vocal when he is hungry or would like some petting. Otherwise he isn't a constant meow-er.

He definitely needs more individual attention than I think my house can give him. I've decided to call him Felix, because he deserves a name, and also because it means "lucky" in French. Or so says google. And this is one damn lucky cat to have been taken in by me.

This is the only picture I have, which isn't of Felix, it is of Sampson. (I can't get him to hold still long enough to get a good picture. I will keep trying though.) But he looks a lot like Sampson. But with greener eyes. And honestly, (don't tell Sampson I said this) he is a little cuter. I also have never seen the expression on his face of "I will kill you in your sleep." Like Sampson is wearing in this picture.

Seriously...if you want him, and can provide a good home for him, e-mail me! Felix does have all 4 sets of claws, and his microchip is all ready to be registered. Free to good home!!