Day Two Hundred Twenty One

Sibling Harmony

So this was cute - Boo! is outside with everybody; taking a few brave steps around the pool. Dash, who didn't realize she was out there, was sitting quietly, staring up at the sky. I called to him and pointed out his little sister was out, too. I told him he should watch her. He got up and rushed over to her, just like I asked, and proceeded to follow her around.

Dash definitely takes this Big Brother business seriously. If Boo! appears to be headed for trouble, he is right there giving her a tap on the butt, steering her in another direction. It's fascinating. I don't know if it's possible, but Dash seems to be aware Boo! is another Aby. Maybe he's remembering playing with his littermates. All I know is, they make a great team.

It reminds me of one of several times our son literally saved his sister's life. This time, our kids were about two and five years old. We all went to meet an Amtrak train my parents were on. While Andy and I stood there on the platform, waving at the oncoming train, our two year daughter was wandering precariously close to the tracks. Our five year old son pulled her back in the knick of time! I looked down in horror at what might have happened, then scooped her up and told him what a good boy he was!  He just stood there looking at us like, "WTH? Are you two paying attention? Aren't you supposed to be the parents here?" Most likely deciding then and there we were duds as parents, he has had her back ever since.

Speaking of brother/sister teams - Rooney has appointed herself spokes dog for the two of them. While Jack takes a more subtle approach to getting you to do his bidding - glares, claw scrapes on something valuable, simply opening a door himself - Rooney as determined humans use their voices to communicate, so she is doing the same.

When Rooney has decided I must have forgotten to feed them, even if they did have breakfast; it's three in the afternoon and they don't get supper until six, she starts telling me what's what. And she doesn't let up until they either get a treat or supper. She also uses this technique now when we are sitting down to a meal. Rooney used to sit quietly and wait for her share. Now, she demands it. Rooney also demands attention from Andy. He's okay with this.

I brought your slipper.
Now pet me!



 

Also, if you want a dog who will play "fetch" with you, get a Retriever not a Bullmastiff. When a Bully brings you a toy and you toss it, they look at you like you've lost your mind. Jack doesn't bring toys to humans, but Rooney does. If you toss it and say "go get it," she looks at the toy across the room, then at you like, "I just did get it and gave it to you. Why did you throw it away? Don't you like it?"

We were advised to never, ever play tug-o-war with a Bully. It makes sense when you consider a dog like Jack, who takes things very seriously. He wastes no effort on silly things like playing. No, he conserves his energy for the big things like scaring tiny dogs as they walk in front of the house or a cat who comes too close to him while he's eating.

Jack doesn't even move his head. He sits on the couch and follows every movement with his eyes. It's hilarious. Jack must think he needs to save up his mojo for the big event. Whatever that might be. So, if one tries to challenge him by waving a rag in his face and daring him to "tug" - trust me - he will tug and win.

Does this look like the face of a dog
who plays silly games?

Day Two Hundred Twenty

The Ssscat That Saved Christmas

If I could, I would have ssscat canisters all over the house! In case you are unfamiliar with this nifty product, it is a canister of compressed air, complete with a motion sensor. Whenever something walks in front of it, it shoots a powerful puff of air that scares the bejesus out of the unfortunate passerby. It was designed to keep cats away from forbidden areas, hence the name. However, it doesn't discriminate. I have absentmindedly walked past a ssscat only to have my heart stop when it shoots a blast of air my way. The ssscat is going to save Christmas.

 

 

As soon as the tree went up yesterday, Boo! was the first to inspect it. Inspect as in, climbed it and was swinging from the light wires like a trapeze artist! Andy actually saved her little self when he found her caught in the wires. Being the professional problem solver he is, he reminded me of the ssscat. Our canister was dead - as in out of gas and batteries kaput. So, we went in search of a refill and more batteries.

As soon as the ssscat was functioning properly, we placed it under the tree. All it took was one spritz to keep all the cats away from the tree. I don't even go near it. This tree will remain lit but unadorned throughout the month. I've convinced myself a decorated tree is messy anyway.

Pre-ssscat. Eli has claimed it as his own
See, it looks perfectly fine with just lights.

With the tree off limits, Boo! had to turn her attention to something else. I mean, cat toys are strewn all over the house, but they are no fun. Not when there is a giant wreath to explore. Andy and I debated where to put the wreath so she couldn't get to it. We settled on hanging it on the wall. We are stupid humans.

I guess I have to get another ssscat!
And a bow to hide it!

I refuse to haul out the rest of the Christmas decorations. My quaint Victorian village would look like a ghost town because I could never safely place any of the tiny people around it. My Santa Claus collection would be toast because they're all made of ceramic. Ceramic is to cats what a sand castle is to a little boy - made to be demolished. Then there are seriously fragile ornaments like the handmade ones the kids made when they were little. I could use the outdoor ones we bought last year, but they're ugly and made the tree look like it belonged at IHOP.

I just don't have the physical or emotional energy to "decorate" anyway. I will plug in my inflatable Santa and whatever else is in garage for outside. Golly, in years past, I used to decorate an outside tree! I had three inside as well. But those were pre-cat years. It's all good.

Then again...maybe not...



Day Two Hundred Nineteen

Boo! vs. the Christmas Tree

The Christmas tree is going up today. Considering how well a roll of toilet paper fares in this house, I'm sure the tree will be just fine. (Insert eye roll.)

There! I got it all!

Andy suggested we put a few of those compressed air cans around the bottom of the tree. Knowing Boo!, she will probably knock the cans over. Or figure out how to aim them at her brothers. That, or she will bypass them altogether and just go for the top of the tree. Either way, Boo! is the odds on favorite against the tree.  

Dash tries his best to protect her. Since she arrived, he walks around in a daze, like he has a hangover. It's the way new parents look. Or a first time big brother. I saw that look on my two year old son's face the day we introduced him to his new baby sister. It was a combination of excitement and trepidation. Many years later, he is still watching out for her, with the same look on his face.

I don't know what's going on this morning, but Boo! is in rare form. Not only did she unravel a whole roll of toilet paper, she has been wreaking havoc in the pantry. Andy just mumbled something and when I turned he was removing her from inside his stack of papers on the counter. She reminds me of the ball in a pinball machine.

Okay, well I just had to remove her from the kitchen sink. I found another one of those interactive cat toys. It chirps like a demented bird, which is probably why it was hidden away under the bed in the spare room. Anyway, maybe it will keep her occupied for awhile. At least until I get this blog entry finished. Dash seems like an old man compared to this little maniac!

Day Two Hundred Eighteen

Giving Thanks Can Be Exhausting!

Never having been actually hit with a sledge hammer, I can't say with absolute certainty this is how it feels. I can merely state this is how I think it must feel when one has been clobbered with a large object intended to knock down a wall or drive a stake into something. Every muscle in my body hurts. Muscles I didn't know existed hurt. I never used to feel this way after cooking a large Thanksgiving meal. I am, apparently, too old for this thing they call "getting together with one's family."

To the best of my recollection, yesterday was busy. I vaguely remember cooking and cleaning. I also remember seeing my family members arrive. There was a lot of noise. I think there was an entire preschool class here, but they tell me there were only three little boys and one very mature ten year old girl. I think they were lying to me because I could swear there were about thirty kids here. This year's bounce house was slightly less of a hit than last year's. Translation: thirty little boys were running all over the house, screaming at the top of their lungs and shooting each other with squirt guns.

Of course, one fell into the pool. It was to be expected. He was not pushed, although it probably occurred to him to try and make that claim. There was a lot of blame going around. Claims of, "He stabbed me with a fork!" "Well, he said something to me!" "I didn't get a dinosaur cup!" "Are the grownups going to talk about the news and argue like last year?" to name a few. It went on like that throughout the entire meal. I think I ate. I'm not sure.

My attempt at keeping things under control with the cats went out the window. All six of them started out safely ensconced in the front bedroom with five litter boxes, food and water and lots of toys. I thought I was starting to hallucinate from too many wine coolers, because I would catch a glimpse of a cat flying through the house. I had forgotten telling little boys a room is off limits is heard instead as, "At the first chance you get, open the door and see what comes flying out." It took a supreme effort on my part to keep track of cats so they didn't vanish into the outside world. I have become adept at catching a cat in midair. And, I can count to six faster than any preschooler - thank you very much.

Jack and Rooney were exiled to our bedroom, but this did not sit well with Jack who interpreted every scream as a child was getting murdered. At one point, he just blew through the back door to see for himself. He took out the mini blinds on his way out. When confronted, Jack always manages a look that says, "You wanted a guard dog - well here I am. Deal with it." Rooney apparently does not take her guard dog status as seriously. She slept through most of the chaos. If I didn't know she can hear a knife slice through a piece of cheese, I would swear she was deaf.

Despite all the chaos and noise, it was all worth the effort. We have a wonderful family and those little gremlins are growing up way too fast. Although, I'm thinking we should all go to a restaurant next year. That is if this old lady recovers from this year.

All the kids are gone...

Day Two Hundred Seventeen

Happy Thanksgiving!

We've had our first casualty of the day. I say first because, with three boys on the way, there will no doubt be more. Anyway, while making sure his little sister didn't get into trouble, Dash got distracted and fell into the pool. Andy saw him on the porch, trying to shake off the wet. I ran out with a towel and did the best I could with a squirming, embarrassed guy who just wanted to pretend it didn't happen. From that point on he followed his sister even more diligently, as if that's possible!

I have to keep this brief because there is a lot to do! In a few short hours, the kitchen will be a huge mess, kids will be either bouncing or chasing each other around the house and there will be lots of laughter. The food is why they come; the fun is why they stay.

Poor old, Maxine!

Well, I hope everyone has a wonderful Thanksgiving. No matter what your opinion is of this holiday from - it's a huge fraud to it's a wonderful holiday - we all have things for which we can be grateful.



Day Two Hundred Sixteen

Thanksgiving, Matchett Style

Things for which I am thankful:

Family - human and four-legged
Turkey and all the other stuff that goes with it
Bounce House rentals
Cortisone shots





I always feel bad cooking an animal carcass. I do. My husband has stayed with me through many things, including numerous dogs, a horse, six cats and various other creatures, but he would leave if I didn't have a turkey for Thanksgiving - a dead one. (He knows I'm just a farm away from having live poultry running around.) I will feel bad cleaning it, and will thank it for giving up its life to provide food for our family.
I'm getting verklempt just thinking about it....

It's been a busy morning. I thank God everyday for Dr. White and the magic elixir he shot into my shoulder. I am pain free. A friend and I were talking "aches and pains" yesterday and I told her I tried to bribe him into shooting some of that stuff into my left foot, right knee, hip and back. He said no - I can't imagine why. I also told her I used to shy away from needles but he could have used a nail gun to put that stuff into my shoulder and I wouldn't have complained. Anyway, it is so nice to do things around the house without pain.

Baby Boo! has added an element of craziness to leaving the house - as well as going into the pantry, laundry room, bathroom, front porch, etc. Last night, I had just counted her in the front bedroom (Some count sheep, but I can't sleep until I've counted cats) - and I was getting something out of the pantry. Andy came up behind me asking if I was missing any cats? I said, no, I just counted them all. I turned around and he was holding Boo!; laughing. He said he had just found her in our bedroom. How the hell she got clear across the house in under three seconds I'll never know. And into a closed room no less! She is like Dash on steroids.

Who's spoiled? Not our little girl!

What has become a Thanksgiving tradition - a Bounce House - was just delivered. I had to run into the house to get the money, leaving the delivery guy on the front porch. I know he had no intention of coming inside after seeing Jack. Well, when I came back out he was laughing. His comment, "That was the funniest thing! There's that big dog and that tiny cat - he looked at her and she hissed at him and he backed off like - don't hurt me!" I told him she let everybody know right away who's boss.

Well, I have cranberry sauce, yam casserole and green bean casserole to make. Tomorrow I'm gonna try crockpot mashed potatoes. I hope you have a wonderful Thanksgiving. If you live in Orlando and want to come by for turkey and to jump in the bounce house - you're certainly welcome!

DayTwo Hundred Fifteen

Can I Help?

So, remember the saga of the dog bed? Well, believe it or not, I haven't returned the smaller (as in extra large) one. They made it sound so easy - all you have to do is put it in a trash bag and use a vacuum cleaner to suck out the air. Easy Peasy. I'm gonna take a guess here and say they probably get few returns. Only those purchased by one of the Avengers.

Trying to get this..

back to this...

But, hey, I'm game, so I did what they instructed. First I wrestled the bed in half. Then I wrestled it into a plastic bag. Then I wrestled with the vacuum that did what vacuums do. It did not read the instructions, so it sucked up the bag instead of the air in the bag. I could not blame the vacuum cleaner. It may be a Dyson, but it can't read, (even though that weird guy in the commercials would like for you to believe they can.)

I do not understand what you want from me!

So, there I was, sitting on the folded bed to keep it from unfolding. Oh, and did I mention the cats wanted to help? Yep, all six were gathered around to join in the fun. Now, I should have done this in a cat free zone, but I'm stupid, so I didn't. And, I brought in the ginormous box they had been playing fort in for about a week. You know, their box. All I can say is, Amazon might end up with a surprise inside the box. I tried to count them, but with six, it's a lot like Whack-A-Mole.

You got this big box for us?!

First, Eli went into the box, but he ran back out when I started my hissy fit. Being the oldest, he is also the most familiar with the properties of a hissy fit. As I struggled with the bed and the uncooperative box flaps, I noticed waaay back in the darkened space, two blue eyes blinking at me. Crap. There was no way I could sit on the bed (which was in a plastic bag, remember, so I kept sliding around like I was trying to ride a mechanical bull - drunk,) hold the flaps open AND remove a cat from the back of the damn box. I couldn't even tip the box. So, I did what I do best - I threw a huge hissy fit.

I shook the heavy box as best I could while emitting sounds some of the cats have never heard before. It felt great to me - but scared the snot out of Finn or Chance - all I could see was a white blur as whomever it was flew out of the box to safety. By this time, the three smartest cats in the house - Fancy, Dash and Boo! - were at a safe distance; far away from the crazy lady.

I managed to shove the bed into the giant box (hopefully sans cat) then proceeded to cut off the flaps to make it a shorter box. Now, I said Abys are smart, but they're also curious. It was all too much for Dash. He had to see what I was doing.  Now, I was wielding an exacto knife and did not realize he was on top of the box, so I guess we're all glad he still has a tail. I was not able to take a selfie while I was wrestling with the box, but I did get some shots of Dash "helping" me.

After I got the flaps cut down, I attempted to tape the box shut. Now, we have some industrial strength packing tape, but it. would. not. stick. to. the. box. I'm serious. Strip after strip went on then plurped up. I was going mad by then. I blame Florida. Nothing sticks, sets, dries or holds up in this damn place. Sorry. I'm just in a really bad mood.

Next up: getting an unwieldy box with tape curls all over it, into my little car. Thank God it's a convertible!

Day Two Hundred Fourteen

Boo!'s Big Adventure

Once upon a time, there was a tiny little kitten with a big personality. Her name was Boo! and she had the heart of a tiger! Now, Boo! wanted to do everything her big brother did. She watched him come and go through a special door to the outside world.  Boo! thought it must be wonderful to go out there.

One morning, Boo!'s human mommy opened the back door and told Boo! she could go out with the other cats. Boo! never wanted to act frightened, so she put on a brave face, and stepped out into the big world. It was chilly out there but Boo! was shaking a little from excitement, not the cold.

As Boo! explored, her big brother, Dash, nervously followed her around. He wanted to have fun himself, hunting for lizards, but he couldn't take his eyes off his tiny baby sister. Dash was worried she would get into trouble. The other cats checked on her, too. Everybody was watching to see what she would do.

Come. Out. Of. There.
I'm supposed to watch you!

Now, even though Boo! had seen the big dogs everyday for a week, when they came in from the backyard, it was like they were scary monsters she had never seen before! She hissed at them and they were confused. Why was this tiny girl acting like she had never seen them before? When they got close to check what was wrong, Boo! got even more upset! That was when her human mommy decided she had enough excitement for one day. She scooped her up and gave her a big cuddle. Even tiny tigers need a mom to rescue them from themselves sometimes.

Dash was relieved when he no longer had to worry about his little sister! He ran around the pool and swiped at imaginary snakes and looked around for real lizards. Even big brother tigers need some time to just be themselves.

 

The End

(For now...)



Day Two Hundred Thirteen

Love at First Sight

So, maybe it has to do with the fact our granddaughter was the first person with whom Boo! bonded last week when she arrived, or maybe Boo! just likes her better, but there is a definite connection between the two.

It was like this all day yesterday. Boo! hadn't seen our granddaughter in a week, but when L arrived, it was like she had been waiting for her the whole time. Our little Tasmanian Devil turned into a mushball right before our eyes. Abys aren't known as cuddlers, and Boo! has proven that to be true with me. But she cuddled with L the entire day. I have proof.

Those pictures spanned all of yesterday and this morning. Now, I may get a few seconds of cuddle time with Boo! - that is when I can catch her - but this was a marathon love-fest. All I can say is it must be true that cats choose their person. I have to say, if I was a kitten, I would definitely prefer our sweet granddaughter over tired, old me.