Day Two Hundred Fifty Nine

Musical Chairs

The seating arrangement has gotten ridiculous here at night. Rooney and Jack are in a perpetual battle over who gets to sit next to Dad on the couch. Many times, to appease Rooney, who knows exactly how to push his buttons, Andy ends up sitting on the edge of the couch so Rooney is comfortable. I won't play Musical Chairs with them, so I sit in my comfy chair, unencumbered, while he sits there looking miserable.

I decided last night, enough was enough. So, we set about moving furniture around.  We brought a chair in from the living room, moved the sofa sideways and basically set it up so everyone had a place to sit. This relatively minor thing set everyone into a major flaboodle. You would have thought we moved into a completely different house.

I told you I'm not afraid of you -
so go drool someplace else!

First of all, Jack no longer had the advantage over Rooney with regard to the couch. He was flummoxed. Rooney was upset because it was her Dad in the comfy chair now, and she couldn't fit in there, too, no matter how hard she tried. Then there were the cats. The furniture rearrangement had the greatest effect on them.

Boo! was so excited, her actions bordered on dangerous. She has never experienced a smack-down from Jack, the way everyone else has, so she is not afraid of him. This translates into very cavalier behavior. Last night she really pushed her luck. At one point, she bit his foot, which was dangling off the end of the couch. Then she catapulted off his head as she did an aerial act up and over the newly positioned couch. We keep a blanket over the couch to curtail drool and such from destroying the upholstery. Boo! went up and under the blanket and teased Dash. He wasn't sure what was under the blanket but it had teeth and claws and moved like a mole.

I can't say any of the kids were happy about the move, but Andy looked much more comfortable as he had a turn in the comfy chair. I may never get it back again!

Day Two Hundred Fifty Eight

Cool Air and Scary Air

Ooooh, we're having a cold snap here in Florida. It's all the way down to 61 degrees. Factor in the wind chill and that's... 61 degrees. That means Floridians have pulled their sweaters and gloves out of mothballs, while tourists from up north think it's hot. It's all a matter of perspective.

It's all the way down to 61 degrees!

In this household, the fur creatures have mixed feelings about the change in temperature. Jack and Rooney are "frisky." Sounds cute, huh? Trust me, you don't want a total of 330 Bullmastiff pounds romping through the family room.

The cats are divided. Those with lots of fur, Fancy, Eli, Finn and Chance say, "Bring it on!" Dash and Boo! aren't so sure. They go outside, because everybody else is, but they only stay out in short bursts. Boo! is grateful I have so many fuzzy robes, jackets and blankets for her to snuggle in. I don't mind one bit.

We seem to have solved the problem of Boo! escaping into the garage. Yesterday, she ran out there as the garage door was closing. Now, there is a sensor on it to stop the door if something is under it, but I can't imagine tiny Boo! even tripping the sensor. And, I didn't want to open it in case she wasn't out there and now had a clear path to the outside world! I stood there frozen, wondering for a few panicky moments if she was on the other side of the door. Dropping to my knees and peering under the car brought relief when I saw her crouching under there. I knew I could not keep repeating this scenario.

Ssscat to the rescue! I put the canister, that had saved our Christmas tree from feline invaders, in front of the door to the garage. It took a few puffs of air for her to finally realize she lost the game. It would take other creatures one puff, but she is intrepid. It also seems to have solved the problem of all the cats running into the bedroom every time we want to go in there. Yea!

It's air. Just air...

We did not celebrate, however. It seems that our massive guard dog has been brought low by a can of air. Jack refuses to go anywhere near the bedroom door which is adjacent to the garage door. Well, the Bullys sleep in our room at night. Andy had already set the alarm, and was trying to coax Jack into the room. Rooney held her breath and dove in, but Jack wasn't budging. No treats or coaxing was going to get that big old chicken to walk past the scary air can.

You people suck

Andy eventually had to turn off the alarm, take Jack out through the back door and let him into the bedroom through the patio door. Problem solved. Then. Who knows if this will be a regular routine. With Bullys it's - If it matters to them, they learn it the first time. If it matters to you it's, "Oh, sorry, were you talking to me?"

Day Two Hundred Fifty Seven

Cuddle Weather

I refuse to turn on the heat. The temperature has dropped considerably - all the way down to 50 degrees - and I love it. My feet are like blocks of ice and I couldn't be happier! I just wish my fireplace was fixed. I love to be cold, wrapped in a blanket with a nice fire going. I should be living in Canada...

To Floridians, anything lower than 60 degrees is freezing. Actually, I think the temperature for freezing is different here. Up north it's 32 degrees. Here, it's about 45. (Why isn't there a degree thingy on a keyboard? Am I missing something? You know, that tiny circle...)

Anyway, little Boo! gets cold (based on the feel of her ears, nose and feet) and so she cuddles up with me because I am in possession of two things: body heat and snuggly blankets. My family knows I love all things soft so I received blankets and pjs in ultra soft material for Christmas. Some of the materials don't even feel real, they're so soft. She loves to sit with me and have me cover her with a blanket or robe. I am more than happy to oblige.

 

Boo! has also become a "face holder" like Fancy. I know some cats like that. If I tried to hold onto Finn's face I think he'd have a heart attack.

Finn will cuddle with his two Ragdoll brothers, but as for human snuggling - forget it.

 

 

Fancy will sit with me but all conditions must be perfect for that to happen - planets aligned, wind speed correct, low humidity, etc. He is still "on guard" after all these years of being an inside cat. Every once in awhile the feral in him comes out. I don't mind a bit. In my eyes he is perfect just the way he is.

Day Two Hundred Fifty Six

Escapees and Turf Wars

Andy and I were remarking that we probably should pack up the Christmas tree, but neither wants to. What started out as a worry has become something of a comfort. We love the lights. And, thanks to the Ssscat, the tree stayed upright and the bulbs intact.

We may be repurposing that little can of power, however, once the tree has been taken down. Little Miss Boo! Bird has recently decided it is great fun to sneak past us into the garage whenever we open that door. She bolts then dives under the car.

Now, that garage contains forty five years of stuff - most of which is from the past twenty six years of living in this house. And I save everything. I'm pretty sure you'll find a bag of my son's hair from his first haircut. Definitely from the one he had when he cut off his shoulder length hair he sported throughout high school. I don't necessarily have a thing for hair - and I'm not a ghoul - I just love my kids so much I could never part with their stuff.  Wow, that was a long way around getting to the point that Boo! has lots of places to hide in the garage.

And, she is quiet. Poems have been written about cats and their silent cat feet. Well, this cat is poem worthy. I think she holds her breath, too. Anyway, I find myself checking the cracks between the garage door and the wall on the off chance she could squeeze through. Eventually, after I've tried to entice her with toys and treats, curiosity gets the best of her and she pops out.

We've decided it's time to relocate the Ssscat. Let's see if she thinks the garage is so cool once she gets a blast of air the next time she tries to venture out there.

Rooney is clearly her Dad's dog. Sometimes I envy her the attention she gets from him. But then again, I never climb into his lap and lick his face. Or greet him when he comes home (even when he's just been to the mailbox and back) like her world stopped until his return. Sure I did that stuff way back in the day...

Anyway, she and Jack have a turf-war of sorts going on. If he gets to the couch first, he plunks his solid wide butt in the center of it, leaving her no room next to her Dad. She will sit and stare at the spot where she would like to be, then look at her Dad to help her. It's usually at this point Jack lies down with his head on Andy's lap. Rooney completely loses it then. She will either start vocally protesting or give up in despair and go into the living room to pout.

That approach is usually short lived, however. When all else fails, she will resort to shoving Jack out of the way. It is a hoot to watch. I managed to catch it with my camera the other night. It rivals a battle between Godzilla and King Kong.

Rooney: Um, Jack. Could you move?
I want to sit next to Daddy.

Jack: Sorry. I was here first.

Jack: You'll have to go around me.

Rooney: Fine, you old poop!

Jack: You're standing on me!

Rooney: I asked you nice. Too bad.

Mission accomplished

Day Two Hundred Fifty Five

Laughter, Distraction and Material

I was lying in bed last night thinking about the day and it occurred to me I no longer felt the need for "one more cat." Whether the addition of Boo! made our family complete or she has tipped the scales with her behavior and I now feel I've met my match, is anyone's guess. All I know is she's a handful. And a heartful.

Yes, she has even won over
Mr. I Don't Like Cats

That tiny creature has upped the ante. Her five brothers combined do not make as much noise; bring as much chaos or do as much damage - or make us laugh as much as that little dynamo. When she's on a roll, there is an unidentified crash, bang or splat somewhere in the house - every few minutes. She doesn't walk anywhere - she flies.

Last night I had to get up to investigate several times. With each unidentified sound and, "What was that!?," I had to look. Once, it was a print she had knocked over. Then there was the plastic tablecloth she pulled down and was tearing big chunks out of. (Grammar police - stand down.)

Next, it was the same tablecloth I had "hidden" in the hutch. That time, not only did she find the thing but in doing so she had to navigate over several glass picture frames I had stacked on their sides in a preemptive attempt at saving them from Boo! The glass-on-glass action produced a very interesting sound. Another time, the tinkling sound I heard was the fork she had knocked off the counter.

When I mentioned to Andy she had broken a cherished vase in her birth home, his comment was, "Perhaps that was something you should have asked about before you got her." We have a lot of glass "stuff."

When she  managed to get herself wedged between Rooney's massive girth and the wall, and was on the verge of getting smothered, I decided enough was enough. I caught her in midair, tucked her into my fuzzy bathrobe and lulled her to sleep. Only then could I finish watching the movie we had to put on pause at least six times. Since she also torments everybody else when she's on one of her tears, the rest of the crew heaved a collective sigh of relief and could finally get some rest.

I have come to the conclusion, Boo! has been put into my life to bring me laughter, distraction from chronic pain and material for my blog. She is my gift from the Universe, letting me know I am not forgotten.

If I had one wish it would be that everyone has a "Boo!" in their lives. Something or someone who brings them joy and laughter; distraction from life's zingers and lots of material to share. If you don't, then search for yours. The world is full of magic - all you have to do is look.

Day Two Hundred Fifty Four

We All Survived the Holidays of 2015

While everyone else in residence is a hardened veteran of a Matchett Christmas, being the newbies, Dash and Boo! are still trying to figure out what just happened. Here is a recap of the Holidays from their point of view:

"Jingle Jammies" - 2015
Copper Canyon is still talking about the
crazy family all dressed in pajamas

Dash: "That is a picture of our crazy humans! Look at them! They're so silly. Wow! What just happened? It used to be so quiet here! Then there was noise and food and paper flying and squeals from the little people and big booms! What was that?"

Boo!: "I loved it! For awhile I thought this place was gonna be boring! I think they called it the howlidays. That makes sense cause it was noisy like the big dogs."

Dash: "Yea, well I thought Mom and Dad were nice, but they've been tricking us. First they put a big thing in the corner that looked like a tree but smelled like a big toy. And it had shiny things all over it. I thought it was for us and we could climb it but every time one of us got near it a big whoosh happened that was terrifying. Then, they had a creature in that room and they wouldn't even let us near it!"

Boo: "I know! Something about hot lights and not wanting us to get burned. And there was a whole box of bugs that chirped and Mom wouldn't let me catch 'em. You were here before me - is it always gonna be like this? With shiny, sparkly chirpy things we can't touch?"

Dash: "I haven't figured it all out yet. Most of the time it's real quiet here, then out of the blue, it gets crazy. I think it has something to do with those little humans who show up. They call Mom, 'Gigi' and they make a lot of noise. She puts us in the room, too, just when we're having fun. She thinks we're gonna get hurt. But I like the little humans cause they have toys that make noise and things fly around real fast."

Boo!: "I heard them call it a 'ratpack' - I thought we were gonna get to catch rats! But, no, the little people yelled every time I caught one of those funny looking rats."

Dash: "It's not a 'ratpack' it's a 'racetrack' - but I call it a 'racetrick' cause we can look but not touch. Those aren't 'rats' - they're 'cars,' whatever that means. They bring that thing out every time those little humans are here."

Boo!: "I don't know, Dash. My brain hurts from so much to look at. The three little humans - I think they're guys - scream a lot but they have so much fun. I love the tall, pretty one. She's a girl like me and she loves to cuddle. I just wish Mom didn't worry so much. She's always, 'Boo! don't eat that! Stop doing that! Boo! that's hot!' Then she gets crazy when she can't find me."

Fancy: "Ahem. If I could just get a word in here. It's like this. Mom and Dad have kids that are grown and one of them has his own kids. That sweet lady who's always with him has two kids also. Mom likes it when they're all here but it gets noisy and kinda crazy. Here's what I've learned to do - I find a place up high where I can watch it all. If I get a headache, I go outside or someplace quiet.
Mom is going to get upset if she can't find you, so every once in awhile walk past her and let her see you so she doesn't panic. Also, watch out for the really small human. He will want to carry you around by your head. If Mom sees it, she will stop him and lecture him about being nice to us. He never tries to mess with me cause I show him my claws. Eli hisses; Chance and Finn hide. You two need to figure out what works for you.
The chaos doesn't last and it gets quiet again. Mom gets sad when it's real quiet and that's where we come in. It's our job to make her happy again."

Boo!: "Wow. You're so smart, Fancy."

Fancy: "Nah. I've just been around. Trust me. This is a great place to live."

Fancy is correct. He's seen Gigi get sad when it's too quiet and all she can hear are the echoes of little voices. But life goes on. I hope your Holidays - whatever you celebrate - were filled with just enough craziness to make you appreciate calm - and just enough quiet to help you reflect on what matters most - love.

Day Two Hundred Fifty Three

Happy New Year!

There is zero chance of me being able to concentrate and write an entry today. There have been four munchkins under the age of ten here since yesterday afternoon. We survived firecrackers. There were only a few minor burns. Three made it to midnight (and beyond.) There are still six cats in the house. Jack almost had a heart attack during the shooting of the firecrackers but is much better today. We even managed to get in a few traditions like exchanging coins. Aunty M and Uncle C were a tremendous help entertaining the troops.

Let me just say, I hope your year is filled with lots of love and joy. And I hope you spread that love around. Adopt a homeless pet, or donate to your local (no-kill) shelter. There are tons of people out there with huge hearts who need help in caring for homeless animals.

There are those who say, "Shop don't Adopt." I do both because there are many responsible breeders out there who do it for the love of their breed. Trust me, they aren't getting rich from it. But whatever you do - stay away from pet stores that get their puppies from puppy mills. It's all about supply and demand. If you don't demand, they won't supply. We really want to put those awful places Out of Business!

Off my soapbox and on to my role of Gigi! Happy New Year!!