Friday, December 21, 2007
What really intrigues me is the fairly recent practice of holding Screech-Ins. Custom dictates that visitors are made honorary Newfies by doing a shot of Screech, kissing a cod, and reciting some Newfie verses or sayings. I thought this would be fun until I read the middle step. Anyone who knows me knows I'm deathly phobic about fish. I hear that some even like to single out a few people and insist they tounge the fish. I'll be having some nightmares tonight. Dude-would you put your tounge in this mouth?
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Monday, December 10, 2007
We gave him some of the chicken we had left over from lunch. He horked it down. I opened the door to the van to let out the dog for a pee… The cat jumped in the van. I scooped him out.
Josh put Lizzie in the carseat and strapped her in. The cat got in AGAIN. Josh looked at me. I sighed in disgust and said- "OH just close the damn door!" “Perkins” laid in my lap and purred and nuzzled me for the WHOLE 6 hours home and never cried once about being in the car or showed any fear of riding. We let him out twice at rest stops to potty (the cat farts-SERIOUSLY.) He made sure to say DAMN close so we couldn't leave him. It’s weird to have a cat you can let out at rest stops, eh?
He's so GREATFUL to be with us. The vet agrees with me that he’s under a year- but he’s close to it-he was probably an early spring kitten. He needs neutered and has been in some scuffles-a torn ear, various small scabs about the body and a big scratch across the nose. But he is the most PERSONABLE little man-cat I've met in quite some time.
We’ve finally been allowing him out of the bathroom where we kept him until we could make sure he was free of any communicable diseases. He’s a whole six pounds. He’s still got about half the house to explore. He’s been really cautious about leaving his safe places. Simon takes special joy in beating the ever living CRAP out of him-or at least rushing him. This shouldn't be so bad- since my poor little white cat is the biggest dufus on the planet and couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag. BUT, Simon outwieghs Perkins by a good....12 lbs probably, and I'm not sensing a lot of fight in the poor kid. So, for now, he tends to stay in "high places" around the house, where he can see Simon coming, like the back of the couch, the windowsills, and the top of the litter box bench. Meanwhile, Simon lurks under the furniture and in dark hidey holes and delights in ambushing Perkins. He doesn't even really have to unsheath his claws-just give the poor scrawny thing a good scare and Perkins is howling and spitting as he hies it back into the bathroom to his "safe place" - the space between the toilet and the bathtub where his bed is.
It's like some feline soap opera I tell ya.