Sprinkling Words Like Litter

Hi folks,

This is Cosette. Hemi was careless enough to be going to the litterbox for a break -- without closing his Blogger account. It seems this little punk is such a wordsmith, that he doesn't even think about the details of shutting down blogger because he doesn't think I'm literate enough to put a blog together.

As you can see from my picture, not only am I an avid reader (and I have an Avid microchip to prove it), but mom depends on me to help prepare her for her classes. To be honest, I'm the brains behind all of the preparation mom must do for class. I'm not trying to undermine her abilities in any way, and I'm sure she's an adequate teacher, but look at the above picture of me planning her course.

Pictures don't lie. Hemi, on the other hand, is another matter.

I'm not saying he doesn't look cute with his tuxedo and all that; it's just that he calls himself "the ladies' man," flirts with mom and her friends, and prances around all Hollywood-like -- with his stump up in the air.

And he thinks he's a hot shot just because he is a Manx breed. But see, the truth is, he's not show quality. If he were show quality, he'd have a tail that kind of curls down, not a mere stump. Now lest you think I'm jealous, I'm not. I never brag about my breed or striped pattern. I know I'm not show quality, and I'm proud of the way I was made.

But Hemi is all, "I'm a tuxedo this" and "I'm a tuxedo that" and "Look at my cute little gloved paws," and "I'm the man of the house," and "Look how I can use my long paws to reach into the bottom of mom's glass and get what little bit of milk there is left." He doesn't understand why she's disgusted? Well, Hemi, here's a clue:

She doesn't know where your paws have been!

Now in terms of the turds outside of the litterbox, nobody can blame me; I'm a bit stressed out that this interloper acts like a dog by wagging his tail and purring simultaneously when he's happy. Frankly, it kinda freaks me out.

And it's hard when for eight years, I've been mama's baby, and she and I have had such a nice history, and here comes Mr. Sophistication trying to steal mom's attention. But the nice thing is that every night, it is ME cuddling up with mom, not him. The bed is MY territory.

Nevertheless, I am warming up to him and do like him, maybe even love him. But it's not that kind of love, so get your minds out of the gutter. We are both neutered. I think we're like siblings.

Sorry for being in such a bad mood, but I've been working on the same hairball for over a week now, and even though I went to the vet (and you don't even want to know what they did to me!), I'm still trying to throw it up or poop it out. My mommy always takes great care of us.

Bow wow for now,

Cosette
(PS) Hemi will get mad at me deliberately messing up his signature ending. LOL

She's So Remote, It's Out of Control

OK, so here's my "sister," Cosette, being lazy as usual. While I'm more of a Renaissance man, this little brown tabby watches way too much TV, especially Animal Planet. I mean, how uncreative?

Besides, unless the program is about cats and/or dogs (cats and dogs need to know about each other), there's no reason to watch Animal Planet. We have nothing in common with wildebeasts and boring animals like giraffes.

Now that I'm writing, I'm sort of feeling guilty about the mean things I sometimes say about Cosette. She's not a couch potato; she's very active and more playful than I am, even though I'm eight years her junior. And I have huge paws that make it difficult to navigate the remote, so I do admire her skill in that arena.

OK, I know you are all waiting to hear the update on the poop-outside-the-box scandal. The good news is, all waste products have remained in the box....for now. Of course, you never know when Cosette might launch a sneak attack.

Now changing the subject, I've become a bit disturbed lately. Some of my mom's students have been talking smack about me.

At first it hurt my feelings, but I got over it as soon as mom set her milk glass down -- with some milk still at the bottom. I got in trouble tonight for reaching one of my long front paws into the glass. Mom spilled out the rest of the milk, like she's grossed out by my having touched it.

I mean, I keep my paws clean with my saliva. What's the big deal?

I always like to see the glass as half full.

Meow for Now,

Hemi

Litterbox Update

Well, the litterbox saga is still continuing now and again. Mom moved my litterbox to another room because she'd rather have two in different rooms than three litterboxes. I overheard her talking to a friend about this embarrassing situation, and she said, "I don't want tons of litterboxes around. How would it look when I have guests over?"

My point is, "Look, mom, if you didn't want to deal with litterboxes, then you should not have taken on the responsibility of having two cats.

Some humans think this issue is just trivial, but trust me, if you were a cat, you'd totally get it.

But overall, to be fair, I do love my mom and Cosette dearly. I love purring and cuddling in my mama's arms and rough housing with my tabby friend. Not to say they don't have flaws, but they are overall kind, fun, and fair. Besides, I've learned in life not to sweat the small stuff (unless it's a turd in front of the litterbox).

Now to change the subject a bit. I don't want to sound like a prissy cat, but mom told me that while most of her students appreciate my postings, others do not. Some cannot believe that a cat could write a blog on his or her own. At first this hurt my feelings, especially since mom told me how intelligent and insightful her students were. But after playing with my catnip-filled toy, I've gotten over it.

All I have to say is that if my blogging creeps them out, they don't have to read it. It's a free country!!

Meow for now,

Hemi

Crap in the Box

This is a tad embarrassing to write about, but I must vent.

Remember Cosette, that other cat who was in the household before I arrived in early December? Well, she guards both litterboxes and sometimes doesn't let me go to the bathroom when I need to. Mom has to tell her to go away so I can do my business.

Well lately, my little tabby "friend" has been regularly pooping outside of the litterboxes -- both of them -- to dissuade me from using either. Frankly, it's disgusting, and while I'm a sweet cat, I am at the end of my tether. She's doing this, according to the vet, because she's marking both boxes as her territory and trying to keep me from going potty in these areas.

She's litterbox greedy.

And I'm litterbox needy.

I've managed thus far to use the litterbox because when a cat's gotta go, a cat's gotta go, but this had better stop soon. I'm tired of having to jump over poop to get into a box to alleviate a basic need.

Crap ought to stay where it belongs: in the box.

I am in the process of writing a petition to my mom for a third litterbox. For goodness sakes, she reads Cat Fancy, which often advises owners to have a litterbox for each cat plus one.

Don't get me wrong; as soon as my mom sees the little tootsie rolls outside the box, she cleans them up. She also keeps the boxes clean regularly. But if I keep seeing those Cosette-logs, then I'm going to seek vengence with my Hemi-pelletts.

Welcome to My Site

Hi Dear Readers:

My mom is sleeping now, so I snuck onto the computer to write my very first blog. I was observing her set up her Calling the Shots blog, and so when she went to bed tonight, I set up mine. Of course, it's harder to be agile on the keyboard with paws instead of hands, but I managed just fine -- thank you very much.

This blog will be about all things cat -- mostly about a very special tuxedo manx cat: ME!! But I am not narcissistic. I will give kudos to the other feline family member in our household, a 10-year-old brown tabby named Cosette, when she deserves it.

She's a pretty thing, but as we are both neutered, we are more like siblings. Both of us took some time to get used to each other, but Cosette and I are pals -- we play wrestle and co-exist peacefully. Cosette may be older, but she can outlast me in any wrestling competition. But I'm more agile, like a gazelle.

I'm the writer of the household, so I can give you a unique perspective what it's like to be a cat living in the Gainer household. We were both rescued from a near-certain death, and for that I'm forever grateful. My recent vet exam was A-OK, even though I felt very violated by a woman doctor, of all people!!

Cosette and I strongly believe in animal rescue and adoption from shelters/foster homes. Prior to entering my forever home, I shared a foster house with 14 dogs and 4 cats (at least I think that's accurate). Anyway, I really appreciate the woman who saved me. She found me two winters ago with an infected leg, and she was kind enough to take mercy on me and get me treated. She has a great heart and cares so much about saving as many animals as possible.

But let's face it, I had to share space with too many animals, so this woman gave me the ultimate gift: a chance to live in a home where I could be the center of attention and my handsome-ness could be appreciated.

So in early December, she introduced me to my adoptive mom. Compared to where I came from, this is like Club Med. I'm getting the peace of having only one other furry animal in the house.

We all are very happy together.

Well, it's time for my post-nap sleep. The great thing about being a tuxedo cat is that if I get any last-minute invitations to a gala or something, I can wake up already dressed to the nines. Oh, and for those of you who are unfamiliar with the Manx breed, we are born without a tail or with a stub of a tail, but our whiskers are extra long to help us balance.

I am very happy with how I look and groom myself so I look my best. However, every once in awhile I do get a pang of tail envy. I see how my mom admires my sister's beautiful tail. But overall, I have a great self image.

I will blog regularly, and I hope you all enjoy reading it.

Meow for now,

Hemi