erika_sanely: (I could do that)

What is it about cats that make them so emotional? Is the word I’m looking for emotional? Flighty? Paranoid? Assassin-y? And their memories are so incredibly selective!

For example, last night just as I had gotten into bed Owen decided that now would be the perfect opportunity to go outside and do ..... I assume that he has another family elsewhere that feeds him fresh salmon and cream and makes sure that he has his own hot water bottle ... I usually try to wait him out, but when he starts to literally climb the walls (the sound of his claws on the walls is not unlike nails down a chalk board) I give in like the weak and easily trainable human I am and let him outside.

Owen, if he could, would be a permanent outside cat so I’ve stopped fighting a losing battle, and since I’ve become more ammenable to him coming and going, I have been getting more head butt pats from him, and curling up next to me on the lounge and just general love-like feelings from him, so it’s working out for us.

Marley, however does enjoy the indoor loving. There are times when he willingly goes outside, and there are times where he will hide underneath a bed and hope that I forget that he is there and he has the run of The! Entire! House! when I go to work. Last night though, he decided he wanted to go out whe Owen went, and like all people who are owned by cats, I tried explaining to Marles that I was going to bed, I and may not wake up when he knocks to come back in. (They knock; I think that swing their bums into the door, but whatever they do it’s definitely a knocking noise that is produced, and neither of them climb the gauze to announce their intentions to be inside now.)

He still went out. I still went to bed, and I slept all the night through, so I have no idea if he tried to come in later or not. I think though that it is safe to assume he tried, because he wasn’t waiting at the back door with Owen when I went to let them in for their breakfast. The only time Marley isn’t waiting for food is when I have done something horribly wrong and he is trying to prove to me that I am a terrible person who can’t be trusted.

He turned up about 5 hours later when I was outside cleaning up the garage, looked at me and then ran away. Came back 15 mintues later to look at me some more, make sure I noticed him, and then went and hide underneath a bush where I could only see his face. Where he made sure I could only see his face. And his face said “I can’t believe you did that to me. You are such an arse.” An hour later he moved to a bush that was closer to me to really make sure I could see his face, and this face said “Such. An. Arse.”

It took me another 45 minutes to convince him to come inside and eat, and while I helf the door open he ran inside as if I was making him come inside to be tortured instead of simply wanting to feed him something nutritious that he hadn’t killed. Then after eating he went and hid under the spare bed in the room he thinks is his. In case I decided that he must go back outside, when we all know I never made him to outside in the first place.

I hate how cats like to re-write history so you’re always the bad guy. I bet he yawns in my face tonight when I’m trying to sleep in what he believes will be a fair and just retalition for forcing him to be homeless last night.


ETA: Yep, revenge has been completed by Marley. It's amazing how comfortable clean folded up washing is when a cat is tired after a hard day plotting the destruction on the world. Clean folded navy clothing.

erika_sanely: (Cat attack)
I've been planning a post about how I've made changes in my life, and everything seems to be working for me, but I've put that on hold to let you know how the last two days have been.

Marley the cat woke me up yesterday morning with what could only be described as a bloody bum. One quick and relatively cheap visit to the vet (I say relatively because it was less than I thought it would be. Not that is was cheap.) it looks like he had been in a fight, and had gotten a claw to the bum.

Ouch. )
erika_sanely: (Easily Amused)
(Also, obligatory cat post)

I really love that my cats can differentiate between a week day and the weekend.

Monday - Friday without fail, Owen wakes about an hour before the alarm, leaves the bedroom and sits on his chair in the dining room to wait until I get up and let him outside. (I know this from many occasions when my bloody bladder can't wait a mere 60 mins) Marley stays until the alarm goes off, and then he jumps up to get between me and the alarm clock (for a cat for is alarmed when you uncross your legs when sitting on the lounge I find it quite brave he gets so close to the blaring alarm.) Then he jumps off, waits outside the bathroom door until my shower is over, and then he gets ready to go outside.

But Saturdays and Sundays.... I've had the same wake up time for about 6 years for work, so if I'm very very lucky I sometimes sleep in on the weekend until 7am. (For work I wake at 5am, so even though 7am sounds early it's a whole two hour sleep in!!) Somehow the boys know. Owen stays on the bed sleeping until about 1130. I've even vacuumed the bedroom and he hasn't moved. Marley wakes, but he doesn't move until I do. And then he goes off to the spare room, where he sleeps until about 3pm.

And the reason that I know that they know it's the weekend, is because sometimes on weekends I've to set my alarm for something, and neither of them deviate from their weekend sleep-ins. They don't even get up for food on the weekends, whereas week days it's all about them getting food at 530 in the morning (And if I've been on holidays .... if it's Monday - Friday they will wake me up at 545 looking for food.)

For cats that are 7 in October, they act like teenagers.

Cat post

May. 1st, 2012 05:52 am
erika_sanely: (Cat attack)
I think Marley has an abscess on the middle of his back.
Cat TMI )
erika_sanely: (Cat attack)
Just waiting on some washing to dry so I can bring it in, and then I am driving to my parents place to catch up with them before I fly out. I dropped the boys off at the cattery this morning; Owen (the emo-teenager wannabe) tends to self-mutilate when I go away despite(/inspite? I always get them mixed up) him hating me when I am around so it's easier if they're in an enclosed place and someone can easily grab them to give medical assistance if needed.

The cattery is a 50 minute drive away. Five minutes into the drive Marley went to the toilet. And not the "marking his territory" kind either. So yes, my day so far has consisted of being stuck in a car with two crying cats and (if I can quote the movie "kenny") a smell that will outlast religion for almost an hour. Good times people, good times.

But! In two days time I shall have hugs and kisses from my niece/god daughter the Is-Monster, three days time hanging out with E and 8 days from hanging with [livejournal.com profile] windrose If the price of all that awesomeness is a bad smell, I'm okay with that.
erika_sanely: (Cat attack)
I think it's only fitting to write about the boys today. Or, as they are becoming known in my group of friends, Lisa's pet Serial Killers. )
erika_sanely: (Cat attack)
I think it's only fitting to write about the boys today. Or, as they are becoming known in my group of friends, Lisa's pet Serial Killers. )
erika_sanely: (Cat attack)
Apparently this is the month for cats to be extra hard work than normal.

The only thing harder than 1 cat needing daily medication is TWO cats needing daily medication. )
erika_sanely: (Cat attack)
Apparently this is the month for cats to be extra hard work than normal.

The only thing harder than 1 cat needing daily medication is TWO cats needing daily medication. )
erika_sanely: (Cat attack)
I've talked about my cat Owen here before. He's the cat that makes shadow puppets look like Arnie and Bruce Willis rolled into one. He's afraid of curtains. The neighbour got some kittens, and I have to run outside and scare them away because kittens that are smaller than half a shoe have him backed into a corner and he cannot do anything but cry.

He is, quite frankly, a wuss.

Over the last three months, the mets at work has been coming in, and telling everyone about this huge, muscley, gotta-be-on-steriods ginger cat that has been bullying their two female cats. It's become the daily story everyone wants to hear about; what's the steriod bully been up to now?? He's been breaking into their house, and standing his ground in their living room and even using a broom does nothing to break this cat. He is, in their words, evil. Their cleaner tells them what a bully he is, and everyone has been trying to come up with ways to deal with it.

Last week was the Australian finale of "So You Think You Can Dance." (For the record, my dancing boyfriend won. I was very very happy.) The mets and I have been fans of this show, and since I didn't have to go to work Monday, I told them to come around and we'd have a mini Dance party and watch the show together. It was a grand plan, and as Nat was coming back from a holiday in Tasmania, she'd arrive later, and Jen would rock up about 7pm. I'd already locked the boys inside, so I wouldn't have to go looking for them later that night. Jen rocked up, came inside and just stopped in her tracks.

"It's him. The steriod cat."

In the middle of the living room Owen was sitting there cleaning himself. When she started to speak he stopped and stared at her.

And that was when I knew. He WAS the steriod bully. Owen, if he can help it and in this case he certainly could, will run crying from rooms whenever someone who is not me walks in. But with Jen, he just sat and stared. And the calmly walked over to his favourite chair, sat in it, and stared some more. And it wasn't just a "Oh, someone's here" stare. It was more of a "This is my house, bitch. Walk away and no one gets hurt."

I was mortified. I let the boys run free during the day, but I always lock them in at night. And I've been listening to the stories about Steriod Cat and judging the owner terribly, wondering how someone can let their cat run free terrorising people like that. Nat showed up a bit later, and when she saw Owen she also stopped and gaped. And once again he did not run terrified. He just stared.

Now, this probably doesn't sound like much, but Jen and Nat live about 1 kilometre from me (1.6miles for those without metric). All this time I've been fretting because he can't keep the weight on, he's been becoming a lean muscley machine. Now that everyone knows it's him, and he's mine, they've stopped calling him "Steriod Cat" and he's now known as "Marathon Man Cat". One morning, I let him out before I went to work at 5am, by 530am he was at Nat and Jen's house and was sitting in their living room. Jen yelled - "Owen, go away!!" and he went.

Whenever I look at him, I find myself asking "Who are you??" And now that he knows I know his double life he's started standing his ground with the next door kitties. He, my curtain fearing wuss-bag, has become a Man. Or cat. Something like that. I wonder what else he has been hiding from me??


While he was a bully, he never hurt the girl cats. We secretly suspect that - despite all cats involved having had 'reproductive surgery' - one of the girls, most likely Maddy according to Jen was his girlfriend
erika_sanely: (Cat attack)
I've talked about my cat Owen here before. He's the cat that makes shadow puppets look like Arnie and Bruce Willis rolled into one. He's afraid of curtains. The neighbour got some kittens, and I have to run outside and scare them away because kittens that are smaller than half a shoe have him backed into a corner and he cannot do anything but cry.

He is, quite frankly, a wuss.

Over the last three months, the mets at work has been coming in, and telling everyone about this huge, muscley, gotta-be-on-steriods ginger cat that has been bullying their two female cats. It's become the daily story everyone wants to hear about; what's the steriod bully been up to now?? He's been breaking into their house, and standing his ground in their living room and even using a broom does nothing to break this cat. He is, in their words, evil. Their cleaner tells them what a bully he is, and everyone has been trying to come up with ways to deal with it.

Last week was the Australian finale of "So You Think You Can Dance." (For the record, my dancing boyfriend won. I was very very happy.) The mets and I have been fans of this show, and since I didn't have to go to work Monday, I told them to come around and we'd have a mini Dance party and watch the show together. It was a grand plan, and as Nat was coming back from a holiday in Tasmania, she'd arrive later, and Jen would rock up about 7pm. I'd already locked the boys inside, so I wouldn't have to go looking for them later that night. Jen rocked up, came inside and just stopped in her tracks.

"It's him. The steriod cat."

In the middle of the living room Owen was sitting there cleaning himself. When she started to speak he stopped and stared at her.

And that was when I knew. He WAS the steriod bully. Owen, if he can help it and in this case he certainly could, will run crying from rooms whenever someone who is not me walks in. But with Jen, he just sat and stared. And the calmly walked over to his favourite chair, sat in it, and stared some more. And it wasn't just a "Oh, someone's here" stare. It was more of a "This is my house, bitch. Walk away and no one gets hurt."

I was mortified. I let the boys run free during the day, but I always lock them in at night. And I've been listening to the stories about Steriod Cat and judging the owner terribly, wondering how someone can let their cat run free terrorising people like that. Nat showed up a bit later, and when she saw Owen she also stopped and gaped. And once again he did not run terrified. He just stared.

Now, this probably doesn't sound like much, but Jen and Nat live about 1 kilometre from me (1.6miles for those without metric). All this time I've been fretting because he can't keep the weight on, he's been becoming a lean muscley machine. Now that everyone knows it's him, and he's mine, they've stopped calling him "Steriod Cat" and he's now known as "Marathon Man Cat". One morning, I let him out before I went to work at 5am, by 530am he was at Nat and Jen's house and was sitting in their living room. Jen yelled - "Owen, go away!!" and he went.

Whenever I look at him, I find myself asking "Who are you??" And now that he knows I know his double life he's started standing his ground with the next door kitties. He, my curtain fearing wuss-bag, has become a Man. Or cat. Something like that. I wonder what else he has been hiding from me??


While he was a bully, he never hurt the girl cats. We secretly suspect that - despite all cats involved having had 'reproductive surgery' - one of the girls, most likely Maddy according to Jen was his girlfriend
erika_sanely: (Cat attack)
In other news, I think my cats have hay fever. Can cats get hay fever?? Either way, both of them - but Marley especially - have crusty eyes. It's not bothering them, though Marely does looked pissed at the world. You know that look where your cat is planning universal domination? He wakes up with that look, and it doesn't leave his face all day, which is most unlike him. Plus, it's been really windy lately, and I've noticed that it seems that when the wind gets to a certain speed Marley refuses to go outside.

I've thought about taking him to the vet, but really, other than crusty eyes and a general pissed-off face he's fine. Eats like a horse, drinks water but not too much, goes to the toilet, loves his pats, hogs the bed. Although with the amount of fur he's shedding since spring is upon us I would not be at all suprised to hear he's got a slight allergy to cat hair.

And the last thing I have to ask - SGA season three box set showed up yesterday. What were people's favourite eps and least fav eps in this season?? Other than the first and last ep, I like to watch box sets of shows in order of worst eps to best.
erika_sanely: (Cat attack)
In other news, I think my cats have hay fever. Can cats get hay fever?? Either way, both of them - but Marley especially - have crusty eyes. It's not bothering them, though Marely does looked pissed at the world. You know that look where your cat is planning universal domination? He wakes up with that look, and it doesn't leave his face all day, which is most unlike him. Plus, it's been really windy lately, and I've noticed that it seems that when the wind gets to a certain speed Marley refuses to go outside.

I've thought about taking him to the vet, but really, other than crusty eyes and a general pissed-off face he's fine. Eats like a horse, drinks water but not too much, goes to the toilet, loves his pats, hogs the bed. Although with the amount of fur he's shedding since spring is upon us I would not be at all suprised to hear he's got a slight allergy to cat hair.

And the last thing I have to ask - SGA season three box set showed up yesterday. What were people's favourite eps and least fav eps in this season?? Other than the first and last ep, I like to watch box sets of shows in order of worst eps to best.
erika_sanely: (Default)
Owen did this last night, and he even patiently waited while I grabbed a camera. I think I should icon this:

Read more... )
erika_sanely: (Default)
Owen did this last night, and he even patiently waited while I grabbed a camera. I think I should icon this:

Read more... )

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