Even the Cats are Artistic here

Now, I do have 4 furballs in residence here…

4 pack of cats

 

Each have their own cat-way of doing the things that it is cats do.

Mariko Dos Equis Box

Mariko is the talker of the bunch.  She’s ALWAYS got an opinion, and is happy to share.  She also likes to pick on Spooky, then comes running to one of the humans in the household when he ‘picks’ back.  Above all else…she needs to be the FIRST breathing thing in a room, so she always gets underfoot as she races to be upstairs and on the ledge before I’ve finished climbing up the stairs.

I’ve learned to look before I step 😀

 

Spook in sunshineSpooky is the proverbial rebellious teen.  If he wants to do something, no amount of chastising, yelling, stomping or finger-snapping is going to deter him.  He’ll continue to push the boundary until you get the water bottle out and squirt him with it…then be back in 5 minutes to start the cycle over again.  He is very much a cat, convinced of his own superiority, and lets the humans know this on an hourly basis.  He’s also not very user-friendly, and hates strangers.  Picking him up usually involves a hospital visit for the uninformed, as he uses teeth and claws with little to no provocation.

 

Illy RBFLillian, on the other hand, is not a cat…at least, she THINKS she’s not a cat.  Granted, she spends a lot of time on the ledge getting warm and sunshine-y… like a cat.  She grooms constantly… like a cat.  She likes laps and occasionally bats at catnip toys… like a cat.  But she is not, in her mind, a cat.  She doesn’t do cat things with the other cats.  They’ve learned this (more or less) for their own safety, because reminding Illy that she’s a cat usually involves a lot of very-much-cat caterwaulin’ and claws.  She also has the feline equivalent of RBF (Resting Bitch Face)

 

Henry in BagWhich leaves me with Henry.  Of all the cats, Henry had to be the one to go last in my lineup, because he won’t mind being at the back of the pack.  Where Lillian has RBF, Henry has a perpetual smile.  Henry can best be described as a Stoner cat, because he’s always happy and relaxed…unless the front door is opened.  Henry is also our little escape artist, because there’s got to be something real cool on the other side of our front door, and he can’t wait to share a bowl with whatever it is.

 

The four of them have been at the little cardboard scratching pad we’ve had in the house for claw exercises.  With all the stories lately about how deforming declawing a cat can be, I’m glad we made the decision to keep all paws intact, even though it does require a bit more maintenance on our parts keeping all 40 nails blunted.  Here’s what the cats have done to the one we really need to replace:

Smiley Face Scratching pad

Our furballs must be happy with us humans…the said so by scratching a smiley face into their pad.

 

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Everybody, please remain calm…

A Zen Frog

A very calm frog

You would think, given the number of times that particular phrase has induced a screaming, pushing, shoving, panicking crowd attempting to flee from whatever nebulous danger they perceive in the group-mind, that officials, law enforcement, politicians, parents, and Hollywood would have written off this string of 4 words as a REALLY BAD IDEA.

In fact, I believe my heart rate just jumped, and a surge of adrenalin just shot through my system just WRITING the words on my page.

Net Stampede not intentional…

IMG_0330

I lost…my ring.

**sob**

That ring has been on my finger for 20+ years.  The only time I ever take it off is when I’m getting my hands into something sticky (bread dough, cookie dough, dumpling dough), smelly (hair dye, tie-dye, glass etching), or very chemical-ish (cleaning things that are REALLY gross…).

It’s extremely unsettling to have something that has been on your person for 2+ DECADES turn up missing – there’s a lot of personal energy in that thin band of platinum – and I just can’t look at my right hand without that bare finger glaring at me.

I can’t remember where I put the thing!

I remember taking it off – we had moved furniture all around the apartment.  My dresser ended up in my closet.  My recliner ended up in my bedroom, my bed got moved, the computers got rearranged, the living room was adjusted, the former computer desk got relocated to the kitchen, and now holds the microwave.

We celebrated this overdose of re-furnishing the apartment with homemade pizzas – fresh bread dough for the crust, whatever toppings pleased you, and baked on the new pizza stone.

Because I was involved with a sticky, doughy substance, off came the ring.

Now, usually, when I take off my ring in the kitchen, it goes on top of the microwave.  It has since I signed the lease.  but the microwave moved,  so I can’t remember WHERE I though it would be safe enough to reside until I slipped it back on my finger.

And now – it’s as good as lost…somewhere in the apartment…destined to become a SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURESkitty play-thing until it’s batted under either the fridge or stove, or lost in the couch, or hidden somewhere else.

It’s amazing how many hiding places a 1 bedroom apartment can have when the object being hidden is tiny, and fur-covered feet are involved in its movement.

So, in remembrance of my shiny little buddy – I’m gonna tell a story about it, and why it resided on the middle finger of my right hand…

The simple, common, and ‘normal’ reason for a plain silvery ring living on that finger:   It’s the only finger that fits.

The ‘other’ reason?  It’s the first EX’s (note, this is NOT the Wuzband – whom I still get along with, as long as we’re not married) wedding band.

When the marriage ended, he wanted to exchange rings back – why?  Maybe he thought he’d look good in a woman’s wedding band?  Maybe he wanted it for the next Mrs. Ex, Ex – or maybe he decided to sell it off…at that point, I just didn’t care.  There were a gross metric ton of reasons why that marriage fell apart, this was just the icing on the smashed wedding cake.

Does a more perfect reason to wear a ring on your MIDDLE finger exist?