Okay, there are days she gets on my last nerve. But for the most part, I adore my little tiger-striped sister. When Matt first brought her home, I actually asked him if he'd lost his mind, and would he please take her away. Well, that didn't work, so I had to settle for the fact that I'm the more mature of us two, the elder cat so to speak.
Goober is a little different. She pokes her whiskers into many places she shouldn't. She has cat attention hyperactivity disorder and is a non-stop blur of gray/brown fur. She is all in your face, and all over the place. I like to think that I'm a bit more settled, a little more dignified than she is.
But I must admit: things are a lot more interesting with her in my world. When the human is away, we jump onto the windowsill together, bird-watching and commenting on all the activity in the neighborhood. At night, or during nap times, we are often found together, cuddling. Yeah, I may swat at her a little now and then, but it's just to keep her in line, show her who the alpha still is around here.
So cats, if you have an adopted sister, or even an adopted pet of another type, a dog or bunny, whatever your human may bring home, take some time and bond with it. I think you may find that just like me, things are better when you have someone to share your life with. Well, maybe not your dinner, but other things are just fine in my book.
My grandma, Karen, does a lot of work for me. She helps with my Facebook page daily, and of course, helps me with my blogs. Today I would like to share a blog she recently wrote about a special cat that touched many lives. Meet Tiger.
He was orange and scruffy. He seemed ageless. He was bold, unafraid and in your face. He was friends with every child at the grade school down the road. His name was Tiger, and he was the neighborhood cat.
Just yesterday, my father asked me about that cat. My father is eighty-five, and I found myself amazed that the memory of Tiger popped into his head. "Kar," he asked. "Do you remember the cat that was friends with every kid at the school years back?"
I hadn't thought of Tiger in a while. But he is one cat I won't ever forget, especially since it meant so much to Dad to talk about him. It warmed me that thinking that the silly cat made my father smile and he couldn't stop talking about it for days.
Tiger would stand at the bus stop across the street waiting with a group of children for their morning ride to school. At the end of their day, he would trudge patiently and carefully across the street, once again, as if to welcome them home. There were times he would follow one particular child for a while, as if he knew that they needed a little extra care or friendship that day perhaps.
And Tiger would walk to the grade school near his own house, spending time just like one of the gang with groups of children, rubbing in and out of their ankles, looking up quizzically into their faces as if trying to understand what they were talking about.
The cutest story about this cat however happened when I sat watching a school concert one evening with friends. My son, Matt, was in a little chorus routine, and all of the moms jostled for position in the auditorium. It was a stuffy evening from what I remember, so the doors to the outside were propped wide open.
The lights dimmed, the children began to assemble in their places on the stage before us, when big as life, Tiger walked out onto the stage with them. Audience members couldn't believe it. That silly cat had gone too far. Boldly, brazenly walking not only into the auditorium, but also believing he had every right to be there with what he'd come to know as his friends.
Many people pulled out their video recorders and began filming, others erupted in laughter. One teacher went to shoo the cat from the stage, but of course the damage had already been done, and Tiger had completely stolen the show.
I never really found out what happened to that cat, as my own life got in the way. Rumor had it, that someone actually stole him from the neighborhood because they wanted to give him what they thought was a better home.
Whatever happened, I know that our lives are a little better for having known this special kitty. I learned some lessons from him. Be bold. Be friendly. Be caring. Be all "in your face" when you want something. Make new friends, keep the old. And rub a ton of ankles. Whatever will warm another person, that's what Tiger did. And that's something I'd like to do in this world. Touch lives and warm people with stories such as this one. There's so much seriousness. I want to be remembered like Tiger.
It's an age old question. Liver or beef? Chicken or tuna? Ham or hot dogs? Wait, what? Yeah, I like to poke fun at food from time to time. Hey, I love it! What can I tell you, I'm a girl who isn't afraid of a few extra pounds and a few extra calories. I realize health crazes are all the rage, and I do get exercise chasing my sister Goober around the house and play time with my Daddy. But when the dinner bell rings, I am right there. When Matt is eating one of those whole roasted chickens, picking apart the delectable pieces of oven-tender deliciousness, I am all over him. And how about hot dogs? They always amaze and amuse me. They're so darn cute wrapped up in their little buns, all snug-like. The aroma of a good hot dog brings me to Matt's side no matter where I am in the house.
Yeah, I admit. I'm a girl who loves to eat. I'm not ashamed to talk about it. And I'll tell you something: everything in moderation. As long as we don't over-indulge, it's okay from time to time for a special treat, something we really love and enjoy. Even if it's dessert ladies. Pick up that fork, eat that piece of pie or that cookie. Feel no guilt afterward. I sure don't.
Someone recently asked me why me and my sister get along so well. My answer was: because I'm so motherly.
When I was younger, and living in not so nice conditions, I had lost a litter of kittens and it affected me in a major way. Some cats, dogs, and humans are meant to be mamas. I am one of those.
When I lived with my sister Vision years ago, I was extremely protective of her. There was a time that the big dog, Mya, that lived with us, accidentally stepped on Vision's tail with her big, huge Husky paw. I was in the next room and heard Vision yowl. As quick as a wink, I was at her side, swiping at Mya's face with my razor sharp claws, ready to do battle though she outweighed me by many pounds. You see, I had no fear at the time. All I knew was that Vision was hurting, and I would do anything to help her. Luckily, we all remained friends after the incident.
After Vision went to the Rainbow Bridge, and my human brought little Goober home, it didn't take me much time at all to bond with her, once again becoming big sister, protector, mama cat. As you can see by the above photo, I enjoy washing Goober because she is always sticking her whiskers into places she shouldn't. But it's more than that. I enjoy the closeness, the touch, the love that I can show to a younger cat, trying to teach skills that she may never have learned from her own mother.
No, I may not have had my own litter of kittens, but I've been blessed in life to have been like a mother to other cats who may have needed that type of love and affection. I may give off "catitude" on my Facebook page, but in all seriousness, this is a role and responsibility that I take very seriously.
If you have such a dog or cat, one that tends toward motherly instincts, count yourself fortunate. After all, there isn't anything like a mother's love.
We wrote a little poem for a special K-9, officer Blek of Ligonier, Pennsylvania. This officer's partner was killed in the line of duty last year by a drunk driver headed in the wrong direction. Ligonier is a great town, and full of festivities and parades. It was during one such parade that I penned a poem to honor Blek and his fallen companion as he walked as Grand Marshall at the head of the parade.
With all the throngs and festive fanfare,
I hold my head high in the air,
I feel somehow that I have grown,
I walk today but I don't walk alone.
People will cheer and people will wave,
I'll march proudly, I'll try to be brave.
I know in my heart with a special glow,
I walk today but I don't walk alone.
And when it's over and all is done,
I'll go back to my home and remember the fun.
I know he's here with all of us though,
I walked today, but did not walk alone.
I've never thought of myself as a beautiful cat. There are so many others with long, luxurious fur, darling personalities and gorgeous, sparkling eyes. I'm a domestic shorthair, a bit ordinary-looking, and extremely shy. But someone saw something in me years ago at the pet shelter after my sister and I were taken from reprehensible conditions. Someone took the time to read our story, adopt us, and give us the life we deserved. I am now loved, wanted and beautiful. All because someone chose me.
I've been chosen again, so to speak. For my true, rescued story has been picked for an upcoming cat anthology for 2017, called Rescued: The Story of Twelve Cats Through Their Eyes, Volume Two. There is no other feeling like this, when someone reads something about you and makes the decision that yours is the story they will tell.
I may not be the most popular cat on the internet. . .yet. But I do have my own fan base and following. I do have kids that adore me from my human's YouTube channel. I've been sent amazing little gifts over the years, great drawings of me, small toys and bags of treats. I've come so far from being a cat who knew nothing but lack and mistrust.
I shine now, and try to make the world a little happier place with my poems, stories and pictures. And I want to continue to share with you that if I can do this, then you can too my friends. Don't let anyone limit you, or tell you that you're just not good enough. Don't you dare look in the mirror and feel ordinary. You shine brightly too. Just like me.
Today I'm not quite in the mood,
Can I just have a little food?
A little food will tide me over,
A little snack for me and Rover.
Hey, I mentioned a dog, we don't have one.
Oh well, why not, let's have some fun.
I wouldn't care who visited today,
I'd share my food, I'd laugh, I'd play.
So human, please don't make me sick,
Get me some treats and be real quick.
You take too long, this cat is done,
So hop to it now, to the kitchen, run!
I'm waiting here with baited breath,
I'll fall over and starve to death.
Some crunchies please and I'll stop whining.
I'll sit at the table and I'll be dining.
Okay, enough, as you see I'm tired,
I've written too much and now I'm wired.
I'll let you know what time I eat,
Peace out, phew, now, this cat is beat.
Good morning everyone. Summertime is upon us, warm, longer days, vacations and my favorite thing of all: picnics.
Today I'd like to talk to you about picnic foods. When the human is having a little get together with family or friends, I notice all sorts of yummy foods parading their way through our kitchen. Yeah, there's the occasional yucky thing like potato salad, whatever that means, but did you ever notice how many meats make up a picnic menu?
First, there's hot dogs, the all-American favorite. And not just one type, mind you. There's beef, pork, chicken and turkey. So many different delicacies to choose from. Next, there's hamburgers, yummy! And what humans put on them, well, let's just say they have quite the imagination when it comes to building a better burger. Me, well, I just like mine plain please.
Best of all, there's chicken. Grilled, baked, fried, I don't care how you want to make it, just please make it! Oh, the smell of cooking chicken. It makes a kitty's mouth water just thinking about it.
Yep, I think this is my favorite time of the year. I'll meet you in the kitchen a little later, but first I have a human to annoy. Purrhaps I'll whisper quietly in his sleeping ear, "time to have a picnic, Matt." Let the food parade begin!
It just warms my whiskers to see another kitty cat with my book! Now that's what I call a very smart cat. Knows good taste when she sees it! Yep, this is something that makes me smile that Cheshire Cat grin.
When my Grandma Karen approached me about writing a book about adventures I might like to have, I had to think about it for a while. Hmmm, what sort of thing could we write about? My true life up until then had been interesting enough, but what would people like to know purrhaps?
We came up with the idea of "what do our pets do when human's aren't at home?" And from there, the ideas just flowed. I told Gram Karen about all the things I wished I could do, such as escape to the outdoors for adventures. I told her that food, of course, was a big part of my life, and somehow she'd have to incorporate that into the book.
The neatest part though was coming up with a storyline that was a little touching and sweet. So we created Melvin the mouse, a crazy little fellow who likes nothing more than to gather items for his hole in the wall and snatch food when humans aren't looking. Put that together with a claw machine, and there you have it! A crazy little tale about an unlikely friendship, adventures, food and fun.
I'm so happy people like my little story. And you know the nicest part? We actually donate some of the proceeds to feral cats in Evansville, Indiana. So you see, it's all about others, about sharing. I wouldn't have it any other way.
My goodness, it felt like winter would never end. But here it is, Springtime, and with it, open screen windows. The smells, sounds and flavors of the blissful outdoors. My sister and I can spend hours watching birdies flitting from tree to tree. Watching squirrels scampering along branches that seem way too thin to hold their bulk. I'm not sure what I love best about being able to look outside, but I think one of the nicest things is it's something we two cats can share together. It's the one time of the day we can put our differences aside, I can forgive her for getting to the treats first, or jumping on our Daddy's bed before me. The wonderful outdoors, the feel of the cool breeze on our whiskers... ahhh....this is happiness. Oh, don't worry about us trying to get outside. That is only fiction from my book. We're content to sit, dream and wonder.