Flat Packs and Cat Tales

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Humans are very entertaining. The other day my human brought home a large flat box. She ripped open the end and nearly stepped on my tail doing those silly jumping jacks to coax the contents out.

My human actually sat on the floor, eyes glued to the paper that lay on top of the stack. She must not have realized she wasn’t in a chair. I pawed at the paper held in her hand, then moved in closer. See, it’s easier to read the directions with your teeth.

On all fours after categorically refusing my help, she started moving pieces from the box around on the floor. I jumped from board to board like Frogger chasing a high score award. My job was to check each board for structural integrity by having it hold my mass evenly, with proper grace and style. Summarily slid from my summit onto the floor is so not dignified.

So many tiny pieces piled on top of the last board. I had to inspect each and every one, of course. My human dropped a small shiny thing to the floor. Let me get that for you. What? Honestly, I wasn’t going to swallow it! When her fingers wrenched my mouth open, I gave it back to her. That was so helpful. I think I’ll do it again!

I don’t know why she kept putting these tiny wooden pieces into holes on a board that clearly don’t want them. When the third one fell to the floor, I tried to help her pick it up. Oh, what a yummy smell! Think I’ll have just a little…

“Max!” my human screamed.

It was just one. I wasn’t really gonna eat it. I was just measuring it, with my mouth.

“No, blah, blah, blah, Max.”

Her tone sounded harsh. She was obviously upset with herself and her impossible project. I did try to help.

The large white boards first formed a box of some sort. Not very sturdy I’d say. The structure swayed back and forth like the walls of a Japanese toilet room in the middle of an earthquake. Aren’t those smaller boards supposed to go in there somewhere?

While she played her game of dominoes with the middle pieces of the thing, a large metal claw-like thing laying nearby on the floor warranted my further investigation. It moved a little my first try. I wanted to see how far I could slide it, but my human picked it up before I had a good a swing at it. After indiscernible shouts and a quicker than my tail flick reflex when it landed on her thumb, I was glad I decided it really wasn’t worth that much bother. My beauty sleep is more important.

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Three naps later, my human had constructed me a new perch from which to spy on passersby, exactly what I wanted. I think I’ll keep her.

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3 Ways Kittens Are Like Human Babies

3 Ways Kittens Are Like Human Babies

In a previous life I was a cat. I’m quite certain that is where my strong affinity with this most regal species–even the largest, wildest variety–stems. Though with my giving and loving nature I must have been a male cat. Perhaps someone’s indoor pet, and probably neutered. I’d rather not like to think I could have been the neighborhood tom.

FancyWe had a cat for several years. She was a beautiful calico, her coat a seamless swirl of all the colors, not blotchy patches as some are. With white fur to her elbows and ankles and six toes on each of her front paws, she clearly was Fancy. My little girl cat passed away a few years ago which left a gaping hole in my heart. A hole I felt but hadn’t realized the caused nor how to fill it until the fateful day I met Maximilian’s foster mom’s husband at the auto mechanics shop. How fortunate for me that he had to leave his car to be worked on and she had to come pick him up, bringing along Max and another kitten she needed to take back to the shelter to be put up for adoption.

Since Max’s arrival, I have found myself once again in a mommy role, a role I thought I was much too old to ever play again. This morning as I barked orders of care for the wee kitten to my older son while dashing to grab a quick shower the ah-ha moment struck. The analogy made, I lowered my head and accepted my moniker.

How Kittens Are Like Babies, the top 3:

3. Photos. Let’s face it, new parents are the single most reason camera film companies stayed in business before digital media. How many of you have far more baby pictures of your children than any other time in their lives? Raising hand–guilty! And how many of you have shared those baby pictures with anyone and everyone who has a functioning set of eyes? It’s an obsessive need to share the joy of your bundle of cuteness with the world. Maximilian was brought into our family this past Wednesday and I can already fill an album with pictures. But I didn’t stop there, oh no! Thanks to digital media I had my “baby pictures” on my phone ready to flash under any nose, willing or not. The Twitterverse and my Facebook friends also had to endure looking at picture after picture as I tweeted and posted every five minutes. But who could blame me, I mean this is certainly a face that more than just his mother could love, right?

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2. Eating. Kittens eat A LOT. When compared to their body mass, the amount they consume is enormous, though not all in one sitting, or even just two or three. They eat nearly ’round the clock. During the day we keep his food down in the library where he spends most of his time, his safe haven as he slowly gets to know the dogs, or rather they get used to him being in their house. With double hung accordion doors on the library and a behemoth Boston terrier 389C558B-F8D8-4D2E-AACF-E7EB9F3F2D63 who answers to the whims of the diminutive by comparison pug IMG_0178 and is capable of opening said doors, we decided the safest place for Max at night would be in our room. That first night I slept, but not well as my subconscious stayed alert listening for the sounds of his minuscule mews and the bell on his collar. Neither sound gave an indication of distress so I slept on.

By the second night he learned to get up onto our bed. I was awoken at 5:00 A.M. by sweet, wet nose kisses on my cheek and a purring snuggle under my chin. This was not affection on his part to be sure. This was kitten speak for “Woman wake up and feed me, now!” Uttered in the sweetest way I’m sure. It was my normal weekday time to get up at least. Besides, giggling is a much better sound to wake to than a blaring alarm any day, even if it is your own. The next night the euphoria of such a pleasant arousal crashed down around my ears when the same kitten tactics woke me at 2:30 am. The purring snuggle under my chin became a headbutt to the jaw line until I got up to go get his food. The gentle rub against my leg as I sat the bowl on the floor was not affection but rather a Clydesdale style shoving past me to get to his food.

Last night we were smart and made sure his food was also in our room. I can be taught, and was granted permission to sleep in until 6:30 this morning, when his food ran out.

1. Everything goes in the mouth.
You know that tiny screw that flew from the back of the remote and disappeared into the carpet? Max found it. And that tiny piece of popcorn that lingered just out of sight on the floor at the edge of the couch…Max found that too. In fact in his investigative roams into more and more areas of the house Max is doing his level best to smear my good house cleaning reputation. I have done more lunges and squats in the last few days than I have in my adult lifetime. He’s soon going to think his name is Max-what-are-you-eating.

Kittens are addictive, a friend of mine said recently, and I just love mine to bits!

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You had to know I would do a toilet pic!

You had to know I would do a toilet pic!

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