Well, it's been another crazy week here at Casa Wonderpurr, the place where I live. The tempurratures here in our small beachside town are already stinking up the place at 90 degrees making my pawrents sweaty and crabby. Not a good combination, I assure yoo.
This month we have been in this house two years. Yes, time is flying like hungry owls circling our Catio. Daddy continues to find stuff to repair, and Momma continues to be extremely vocal about how this house is like living in a shoe box.
Yesterday Daddy found a screw in the tire to Momma's car. Of course all four tires now need to be replaced as the car is at a certain age where stuff happens. The inside also stinks like an angry cat. However as there have been no angry cats inside the car, it's anybody's guess as to how that smell is purrmeating the inside. Mom thinks maybe a stray cat sprayed under the hood cuz that's where Daddy tucks a bag of stinky mothballs to discourage Sassy Squirrel from hiding his nut stash. He did that during the winter and also chewed the insulation around the engine.
Continuing the topic of raising blood pressure, Momma has finally thrown enough hissy fits over a ridiculously tiny kitchen sink that Daddy has called in pawfessionals to see about getting something larger. Specifically a sink without a divider. This sink is the size of something you'd find in a Winnebago. Incredibly, Mom's friend Donna who visited us and lives in a Winnebago said her sink might be larger. Stay tuned because you just know this is not going to be an easy fix because a larger sink might require a cut to the counter marble. Nothing is ever easy around this place.
Do yoo watch Yellowstone? If so, remember how the character Walker refers to the Yellowstone ranch i.e. "This ... effing... place." My pawrents have started to refer to our house as the Yellowstone of Florida.
So while my pawrents are fweaking out over hoomon stuff, me and my fursibs have been enjoying the Catio. Mostly in the morning before a certain AssWabbit is released from his ZenDen, and again in the evening after he is tucked away for the night.
This arrangement is the end result of him refusing to leave a certain petite 'n pretty tabby alone. The last time I saw him he chased me like he thought I was PREY and scared me so badly... I ... I pooped! That was it. He is purrmanently in the dog house.
So even though I hoomiliated myself, something good came out of it. Like they say, poop happens, and when it does around this house, Momma steps into action and Hekk will be paid to the one who caused the trouble.
Daddy was off playing hit balls with sticks, and Momma went hunting for noms at Target. When she got home she let Wabbit out into the Catio to run off some of his endless energy. Daddy arrived home about fifteen minutes later. He saw Wabbit jumping frantically at the door, and let him in.
Wabbit immediately threw himself on the cool tile, panting. Now Wabbit pants whenever he overexerts himself. He's been doing this since he was a 3 month old kitten. Therefore playtime is limited to wearing him down, not wearing him out. Seeing him pant -- and truly he looked like he might pass out -- Mom gave him a cookie tray filled with ice. Of course he was all over that, pawing the cubes out of the tray onto the floor, creating puddles that would make the tile slick enough for a certain hoomom with bad feet slip and fall and break her body. He's such an AssWabbit! But he did cool down. Suffice to say, during the summer no one will be allowed outside from noon to three when the humidity and sun are at their worst.
The problem is, Jesse cannot chew. He swallows whole. And the whole kibbles sit in his tummy and expand like a sponge when he drinks water. So when he is fed his normal meals, it's sitting on top of his already full tummy and ... voila! I believe that's French for Here Comes The Barf.
Don't worry, the problem is solved. Momma wrote a note telling Daddy not to feed us kittehs anymore, and taped it to the lid of the kibble container. She also threatened to make Daddy clean up the barf.
With Summertime arriving later this month, and the heat already here, Mom called a meeting with me and Wabbit - he was on Zoom in his ZenDen - to discuss the amount of social media activities we have put on her calendar. Sadly, she says she cannot accept any more activities, and has threatened to join the Great Resignation sweeping this country.
She also has Wabbit's annual birthday pool pawty to coordinate for August. He turns 5 this year. So, yes, Wabbit is hogging Momma's time, and sadly, this leaves me with nothing to do but lie around during appropriate Catio time, working on my tan lines.
As I understand it, Momma has been chatting behind our backs with Miz Nikki of Cat Lady Academy who is also momanager to Manny the Halloween Cat, and Nikki has told her she's got a severe case of DoTooMuchitis. When yoo suffer from DoTooMuchitis, yoo do nothing well. And that's exactly how Momma feels. She's throwing content every which way, but none of it is up to her high standards and it's not achieving the desired effect. Plus she's exhausted. Her brain is melty. Pretty sure I saw it running out of her eyes the other day.
In order to recharge her batteries, Momma is taking a 30 day hiatus from blogging, from Twitter and from interacting on Facebook. She assured me she will help me visit the blogs of my friends to see what yoo are up to, but we will not be posting here for the rest of June. And possibly we may continue this hiatus throughout the summer, with me popping in maybe once a month to report on what's going on Behind the Scenes.
I will miss writing my Tuesdays with Dori report, but like Miz Nikki says... Cutting back is OKAY and will contribute to your success.
Until next month...