Dumber Than A Box Of Rocks... With Fur.

I have never claimed that the current version of the Triplicats were smart.  The original Triplicats... now those were some scarily smart cats, but they were raised by a dog, so...

The Triplicats 2.0, however... are dumb as a box of rocks.  But we love them, mostly.

Today, though, they're making that box of rocks look pretty damn smart.

So, I take my kids to school every morning, and when I get home, Calcifer, the orange tabby, is usually right at the front door, waiting for me to unlock it so he can either greet me with much affection... or make yet another escape attempt until he decides, "Hey, wait a minute... it's FREEZING out here!! LET ME BACK IN NAAAAOOOOOWWWW!!!!"

This morning, he wanted to slip out, so that meant me squeezing in through a barely opened door while blocking him with my purse, then yowling softly at him to make him back off.  He didn't back off far enough, because when I stepped back to lock the front door, I stepped on his tail.

Did I mention I was wearing Doc Marten's this morning?

He let out a truly epic cat squawk of pain, and I hastily lifted my foot while saying, "Well, if you didn't want to get stepped on, you shouldn't have gotten under my feet, you dumb cat!"

He streaked away from the door, a very unhappy cat.

In the meantime, Muta and Yuki came hurrying in on hearing Cal squall to see what was going on, and they see a cat racing away from the door.  Do they think, "Oh, no, our littermate that we've known and lived with for the last FIVE YEARS is hurt, we must check on him!"

No.  Those freeze-damaged little brains of theirs say, "INTRUDER ALERT!  INTRUDER ALERT!  STRANGE CAT IS TRESPASSING ON OUR TERRITORY, REPEAT, STRANGE CAT IS TRESPASSING ON OUR TERRITORY.  ATTAAAAAAACK!!!"  And they do.

All I know is, squalling cat running away from me, I lock the door, and turn to see Muta and Yuki both frizz out and go into full attack mode, racing after him while yowling their battle cries and slashing at him like he's the feline version of Public Enemy Number One.

Calcifer, already freaked out, is completely stunned and basically says, "Wait, what the fuck, hey, it's me, I'm hurt, WAIT, WHOA, OH, MY GOD, THEY'RE TRYING TO KILL ME!!!" and runs for it.

I grab pillows off the couch and fire them after the cats to distract them, because I can't believe they're actually attacking Cal.  Took me a minute to realize why they were attacking him.  It's... stunning.  I'm thinking, his scent hasn't changed.  His color hasn't changed.  Nothing about him has changed.  So why???

I figured they'd probably get over it and forget.  That later, Cal would come out of my daughter's room, and the other two would be like, "Hey, dude, where you been?  There was this other weird cat here, you should have been here, we would have totally kicked his ass if you were here!"

That... hasn't happened yet.

As a matter of fact, now, they don't recognize each other at all!  I mean, here it is, seven hours later, and they ran into each other in the kitchen, and it was like, "Who are you? "  "No, wait... who are you??"  "Da fuck??  Who the hell are
YOU???"
There was a squalling melee in the kitchen, and now they're all hiding from each other.  All three of them.  In.  The.  Same.  Place.   Under my bed.

This should be fun.

My cats.  Are idiots.

Because cats, they love the technology, too...

Why, yes, I DID allow my cat to play on my iPad mini... why do you ask???

And I now present...

You have seen a warm Calcifer on my desk.

You have seen a warm Calcifer in my window.

And now, for your gratuitous entertainment, I now present to you...

... Calcifer in a warm scarf!!

See? Didn't that brighten your day?

The Quest for Water, a Feline Adventure...

Our cats are always on the search for the Freshest Water Available.

This has led to some interesting conflicts with their humans, as you can imagine. When the Triplicats were kittens, the water dish was more than sufficient for their needs. I refilled it every morning and every evening, and all was well in their world.

However, as they got older, somehow... this did not satisfy any longer.

They started knocking the water dish around, as if they had to, I don't know, rough it up a bit before they could drink it. Nothing like freshly jostled water, you know? Only problem was, it tended to make the floor wet, and thus we were always getting our socks wet when we stepped in it, or the ballistic missile that is the Impossible Son would hit it and slip during one of his circuits of the house, resulting in howls of pain and indignation.

So, I started cleaning and refilling their water dish more frequently. I started with three times a day. Then four. Then five. Then I got to where I was pretty much refilling the water dish every time I walked by it.

It wasn't enough.

Then the cats started noticing that we drink water, too. In containers. Containers that we often set on tables and counters. Containers that the younger two tended to forget and leave sitting on tables, counters, and occasionally, the floor.

That's when we started holding our glasses in our hands almost constantly, because the moment you set the thing down, a cat would be there like a shot, either trying to shove their whole head into the glass to lap at the water, or dipping a paw in to drink daintily from their toes.

Until Yuki got too frustrated to do it that way and started knocking the glasses over so she could lap it straight from the table, or the floor.

And if the glass didn't have water in it, they'd knock it over just to be spiteful.

Damn cats.

Then Yuki started hanging around my feet when I washed dishes. She could hear me turning the water on. It... tantalized her. It sounded so... splashy, so liquid, so... fresh... And one day, she finally jumped up on the counter, and saw the water pouring from the faucet and unable to resist, she jumped into the dry side of the sink and tried to lap from the stream of water pouring down.

HOT!! HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT!!!

She didn't try that again for a while, though she would sit on the counter and watch me wash dishes with a disgruntled look on her face. And pretty soon, Calcifer and Muta joined her. It made me kind of paranoid, to tell you the truth, having three cats in various places on the counter, all eyes fixed resentfully on me while I played (in their view) with water too hot for them to drink! Even washing their water dish out while they were watching and refilling it and putting it back in its spot didn't help.

It didn't take Yuki long to discover that we use cold water when we brush our teeth.

Next thing we know, we're jockeying for space to spit the toothpaste out with a cat determined to get to the faucet and drink. I swear they were all but laying in the sink with their mouths open like a college kid on a bar, waiting for an open mouth tequila shot.

You'd think we never gave the damn cats any water!

You couldn't even wash your hands without three cats suddenly leaping up to the counter and crowding you out for a shot at the faucet! There was a time when they all had toothpaste spots on their heads from them slipping into the sink just as we were spitting out!

I drew the line when Muta started jumping into the shower with me. He won't let me bathe him, but he would jump in the shower to sit between my feet and bat at the water drops. He's a huge cat, with impressive claws. I do not relish the thought of trying to explain to an emergency room doctor how and why my legs got sliced up by my cat. "Well, you see, Doc, it was like this..."

No thanks.

So... we bought a cat water fountain and that solved our problem for about... two and a half years. They loved the cat water fountain. It circulated the water through a pump that took it through a charcoal filter, and then spilled it back out into a bowl where it went right back through the cycle. The cats drank very happily from the spill, and all was peaceful in Burrow-land.

Until Calcifer started the pawing thing.

*sigh*

First, he simply pawed at the floor. He would make scratching motions for a minute, then circle the fountain until he'd gotten it and himself at juuuuuust the right angle... and then he'd drink.

It was weird, but mostly harmless.

Until he started putting his paw in the fountain's bowl.

He didn't paw the water... yet. He simply put his paw in and then licked it, then put his paw in, then licked it, until he was satisfied and then... he'd circle the fountain until he'd gotten it and himself at juuuuuust the right angle... and then he'd drink.

This meant cleaning the bowl almost every day because... everything on his paw got into the water and thus would clog up the filter. But okay, fine, I did that.

Until Cal started pawing the water and the bowl, which resulted in water sloshing everywhere, and then the fountain wouldn't have enough water in it and the motor would start growling and grinding and I'd have to clean it and refill it and mop up the water that was all over the floor. The wood floor.

And then Yuki started doing it, too. And since she pawed even more energetically than Cal, this meant that water was spread even further around the floor, and there was the added bonus of the fountain sometimes becoming unplugged. Which would lead to them pawing the water even more enthusiastically, because now it wasn't being refreshed like it had been before, and... AAAAAAUUUGGGHHHH!!!!!

So... I resurrected Max's old water bowl. Max was the Labrador Retriever who is responsible for our having cats in the first place. The Husbandly One and I got him right after we got married, and had him for eleven wonderful, crazy years before we lost him to skin cancer. His water bowl was huge, because he was a big dog living in a hot climate and he drank insane amounts of water which he shared with his cats very lovingly. Yes, you read that right. They were his cats.

Anyway, I got out his old water bowl and filled it ... and put it in the bathtub. Why? Because I was tired of mopping up water. If the water bowl is in the bathtub, the cats can paw and slosh to their heart's content, and it won't hurt anything but their dignity. If they start acting like they're dying for water, I pour it out, and simply turn on the faucet and refill it. If someone wants to take a bath, they take the water bowl out of the tub and set it on the tile floor, which is easily mopped up. When they're done, the bowl goes back in the tub, or they face the Wrath of Mama.

I'm fine with it. At last, I can brush my teeth without fighting a cat for the faucet!

Because everyone deserves a little warmth in their day...

Here, have a nice, warm, Calcifer, sunning himself on the window ledge behind my desk...

Happiness is...

... a warm Calcifer curled up on your computer desk, getting in your way, and sleeping peacefully in spite of everything...

Happy New Year to all my friends, and family, both online and RL.

Love,

Jo

Calcifer Steps Up

Calcifer, despite having been fixed today (and oh, wasn't THAT an adventure!), has decided to take over the Shmoo's duties and become the Impertinent Daughter's nightly guardian.

The Shmoo was a black cat with bright green eyes that we had for ten years. He was a sibling to Sir Edmund, and was one of the original Triplicats. Sir Edmund, Mischief Herself, and... the Shmoo. Now... the Shmoo fit his name. He could fit himself into any place or situation, and unlike his quieter siblings, for all that he was pitch black, he had a very Siamese attitude. Very talkative. Very clingy. And probably one of the most hilarious cats we'd ever had. We used to call him the Door Bandit, because at our old house in Houston, he loved to perch on top of our doors, and wait for the unwary to pass by. Any victim who approached would either lose their hat or their hairstyle.

He also had a ridiculous love of turning on lights.

I could practically hear him when he'd leap up to grasp the cord that hung from the lightswitch in the little room off our kitchen that led into the backyard. The light would come on and I could swear he was cackling, "Ha ha!! The power is MINE!! I CAN TURN ON THE LIGHTS!!!"

Yes, he was a goofball.

But, he was also incredibly sweet.

The Impertinent Daughter does not like loud noises. Never has. She hated fireworks until we decided to bring our Labrador Retriever along to the city fireworks show, and they sat together, watching the fireworks, she with her arms around him, he standing between her and the bright lights. She wasn't so scared any more... but she still didn't like the big booms. And when we got home, well, at the time, we were living out in the country, out of the city limits, and therefore, in a place where folks could set off as many bottle rockets, etc, as they liked, for as long as they liked. Provided the county wasn't under a burn ban. She hated the noise, and either the Husbandly One or I would have to lie in bed with her, our hands over her ears, until she went to sleep. Shmoo watched this for a couple of years. Then, when she was four, going on five, just before the Impossible Son made his appearance, Shmoo watched her crying during a particularly loud and boisterous New Year's celebration. I was very, very big, being overdue (Mr. Manzie was really comfortable in there, and saw no reason to change the status quo) and therefore, very slow.  The Husbandly One was trying to do seven things at once.  The Shmoo made up his mind and jumped up into the bed with her, walked up to her pillow, then settled himself so that he was laying across her head, covering her ear.  He laid his tail across her neck, under her chin, and began to purr.  She opened her mouth to protest, then closed it.  She couldn't hear the loud bangs, and snaps, and rat-tat-tat-tat-tat of fireworks any more.  All she could hear was a deep, rumbling, happy purr, and the next thing I knew, she was asleep.  He did the same thing with thunderstorms, wrapping himself around her head and purring until she went to sleep.  Soon, he was jumping up in the bed when she had bad dreams, and then, he had the other cats joining in, as well as Max.  It wasn't unusual to wake up and find her curled comfortably between a large dog, and three cats.  

It was a real blow five years later when he disappeared because someone left a door open, and he got out.

He never came back.

We had lost Mischief to cancer the previous year, and I sometimes wonder if he went out looking for her.

Ed did what he could, but he had to divide himself between two children and two adults.  Not easy, even for a big, loving cat like Ed.  And... it wasn't the same.  Miss Priss and the Shmoo had a very special bond.  He was her Trouble Cat.

So, she's had trouble sleeping since Shmoo disappeared.  Stuffed animals are just not the same.  Nor are little brothers (too squirmy).  We talk before bed, and that seemed to be helping, but... I'm not Shmoo.  And sometimes, what a kid needs is someone who will listen without offering advice, who will stare up at them sympathetically and lovingly, while purring like a Cuisinart on steroids.  I can purr but... it ain't the same!

Tonight, I was tucking her in, kissing her, and doing our usual good night ritual, when Calcifer jumped up on the bed, stared intently into her eyes, then got up on her pillow and curled around her head in the exact same way Shmoo used to.  With the added exception that he gripped her head between his paws, and licked her forehead a couple of times before settling himself comfortably, and purring.  Her face relaxed, and she just barely managed to say, "Night, Mom," before she was out like a little light.

This after having his equipment rendered redundant.

I scratched his head, turned out the light, and said, "Take care of your girl, Cal."

He just purred.

I think they're going to be okay.

Ahhhh... better....

Okay, everybody stand up and get ready to applaud.

I took my first deep breath in over four weeks... and it didn't hurt.

*bows*

Yes, yes, thank you, thanks, I'll be here all week, I'd be more than happy to do it again, yes... thank you, really, you're too kind.

*laughs*

Well, it is a big deal to me!!

In other news, Calcifer and Muta have an appointment with the vet on Wednesday to curb their boyish enthusiasm. In other words... they're getting FIXED! Because, they are startin' to do that thing that young male cats do when they suddenly realize... they're male.

*insert blues guitar, and a deep, gravelly black voice that sounds like it came from the bowels of the earth*

"I'm a man..."

Da-da-da-da-DUM

I spell M..."

Da-da-da-DUM

"A..."

Da-da-da-DUM

"N..."

Da-da-da-DUM

"MAN!"

Yes, Calcifer and Muta have discovered... hormones. And their genitals. And what they can do with them. With each other.

Yes, apparently, my cats are gay.

I mean, there's Yuki, sitting there like, "Well, here I am, boys! And I can't get pregnant, either!"

They look at her, sniff, then say, "You smell funny," and promptly pounce on each other.

The Impossible Son watches this and says, "Um, Mama? I thought you said cats only did that if they were trying to make kittens..."

"Yes, yes, I did say that." And I'm scrambling around in my brain for an explanation that won't get CPS called on me when he repeats it at school.

"But... Calcifer is a boy... and Muta is a boy... and boy-cats can't have kittens..." His brow is furled in concentration and I'm flailing my brain desperately. Then..."Are they like Uncle Artist and Uncle Scientist?"

"Er... not exactly... no."

"Oh."

"Well, see, honey, it's more like this..."

He looks at me doubtfully, like, is this going to be another one of those amazingly technical explanations that I never understand? So, I stop myself and say, "What do you think is going on?" And brace myself.

He thinks about it, watching them, and oh, gods, do I ever want to throw a towel over them, or get the waterhose! Thanks, guys, for teaching my son about a side of biology that I haven't gotten around to explaining yet! "I think it just feels good, so that's why they're doing it. And they're doing it with each other, because Yuki still doesn't feel good after being fixed, so they're being nice to her. And they know each other, so it's okay."

"Exactly," I said, and he smiled.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Why didn't you say so in the first place?"

"Because I wanted you to figure it out on your own," I said, crossing my fingers behind my back. Geez.

Sometimes, parents freak out when their kids present them with life questions the parents aren't ready for yet. It's not that we haven't explained that Uncle Artist and Uncle Scientist are life partners who are practically married, and live together like Mama and Papa live together, with all the getting-closer mushy stuff like Mama and Papa ("Ewwww, you're kissing! On the mouth!!), except, they're both guys, because we have. But you know, it's one thing to know it about your favorite uncles, and another to see a live, wild-kingdom version demo on the floor in your bedroom next to your teddy bear.

And yes, we have covered the het version, too, thanks to a couple of dogs who thought our front yard would be a most excellent place to do some parallel parking. Thanks, Fluffy and Zongo, for the live-action condensation of how babies get in there!!

So, I am sorry, Calcifer and Muta, but those furry dice hangin' on your chassis? Gotta go. No more marking Mama's side of the bed as yours. No more marking the Impossible Son as yours. No rubbing your... family jewels against parts of us that we immediately want to go find wet wipes for.

Fun times, I'm telling you!

We are starving... STARVING!!!

Cats are sometimes the most pathetic creatures on the planet, especially male cats.

I took Miss Yuki in to be spayed today (no, no, I am done with having a herd of cats. Three are just fine, thank you, and I refuse to lose another female to uterine cancer!). This meant no food after 10 pm last night, which mean picking up the food bowls and water dish at 9.

I'd fed them at 8:30, so I figured hey, no problem.

*snort*

When I picked up their dishes, Calcifer and Muta especially were all like, "Hey, wait, what?? You're picking up the food?? You're not putting more in them? What is this??"

Now, dogs are different. When you pick up a dog's food and water, they're like, "hey, what? Wait a minute..." then they look at you mournfully and go, "well... okay... fine. If you insist. You're the master, and I really, really don't understand why you're doing this but... okay." Then they go lay down in a huff and stare at you mournfully, occasionally going to where their food dish was and look around hopefully, as if it will all rematerialize, then return sadly to where they can stare at you mournfully some more. And that's it. You might get a few hopeful bounces with a lot of tail wagging every time you go to the kitchen, but eventually, they figure out it ain't gonna happen, and stop.

Cats, though, are more... proactive.

Every time you get up, whether it's to go to the kitchen, to the bedroom, the bathroom, or just to scratch your butt is met with cats leaping to attention and prowling around your feet, complaining noisily about their mistreatment. "We're STARVING!! We're DYING!! Can't you see the flesh just MELTING OFF OUR BONES??? We're little kitty-cat SKELETONS!! Oh, you cruel human, how can you do this to us???"

You go in the kitchen, and they are there, swarming your feet, trying to force you to head to the cabinet where the food is, crying and meowing pathetically the entire time in a cat chorale of gastronomic distress. "Oh, please, please, PLEASE!! We are DYING!! You MUST feed us before we whither away, our bodies shriveling into little dried husks!! You will feel MOST GUILTY when we die of hunger! Who will warm your feet? Who will knock over your water glass? WHO WILL LEAVE WHITE HAIR ALL OVER YOUR BLACK SWEATER??"

I can't tell you how many times I was awakened during the night with the intense feeling I was being... stared at, and opened my eyes to see a feline nose inches from mine. I could just hear the kitty hypnosis.

FEED ME, WENCH... FEED ME... FEED ME... YOU WILL GET UP NOW AND FEEEEEEED MEEEEEE...

The Husbandly One got up for a late night piss, and I heard muffled cursing from the bathroom, then he said, "Don't let Calcifer get in the bed!"

That was enough to get me up, because I had a feeling what had happened. I grabbed a towel and threw it over the cat as he ran out of the bathroom. Yep, he jumped up on the toilet seat at the wrong time, all while meowing piteously at THO about his situation. Interrupted in mid-yowl, pretty much.

Getting up for any reason, to answer a call of nature, or a call of child, was complicated by felines winding between our feet and trying to herd us to the kitchen, all while meowing in minor thirds about their mistreatment. And having to listen to it all morning long while trying to eat breakfast, trying to make lunch for the kids, trying to just walk through the house without falling... it's a good thing I like cats!

So, when I got back from dropping the kids off at school, and Miss Yuki off at the vet's, I fully expected two very hungry and talkative felines at the door to drag me to the kitchen.

Nope.

I walk in. "Hey, who's hungry?"

Nothing.

Now, if it had been dogs, I would have been met with noisy, "Yay, food!!" barks, much tail wagging, jumping around, and other demonstrations of canine joy.

I walked into the kitchen to find two feline corpses draped dramatically over the dishwasher door and the floor. Calcifer barely moved his head. "Sorry... can't talk... too weak... so hungry... the end... isn't far... I loved you... goodbye..."

*insert eye-roll here*

I got out the food dishes and set them on the floor. Muta opened one eye. "Oh... now you're going to feed us... when it's... too late. Ah... the cruelty of a she such as you... ah... goodbye, cruel world."

*snort*

I poured food into the dishes and was nearly bowled over by two feline bodies flying over my shoulders. They pretty much just shoved their entire faces into the bowls and inhaled the food. Geez, maybe you should chew first??

They are now pretty much laying about and sneering at me. "Yes, you finally fed us, but we are not speaking to you, because you have abused us by starving us! So, just for that, we will not warm your pretty little toes as you type, nor will we try to lay on your keyboard. HA!! TAKE THAT!!"

Oh, yes, I am well and duly punished. *snorts* Just wait until it's THEIR turn!!

Muuuah-hahahahahahahahaha!!!