Showing posts with label Behind the Scenes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Behind the Scenes. Show all posts

November 08, 2022

The Chubby Chonkers Club and How I Lost 3 Pounds with a Purrsonal Trainer


Hi evfurrybuddy, it's me Dori *wavy paws* with another episode of Tuesdays with Dori, plus all the joocy gossip I could find while prowling the inpurrnet.

This past week I ran into fellow reporter Latte, host of News with Latte, and she told me her pawrents have started calling her a Chonkers "Fun Size" while her sisfur Ellie Mae is a "full-size" Chonkers candy bar. According to Latte, their Momma Kat is either shooing Latte away from Ellie's plate, or chasing Ellie around with a plate to get her to eat. Clearly Ellie is very pawtikular about privacy while dining, as she doesn't like being stared at while she puts food into her mouth.

I ask yoo, what woman enjoys being watched while eating? When was the last time we saw video of  Jennifer Lopez horking a bowl of plain M&M's? Actually, I heard a rumor from my Hollyweird connections that J-Lo throws tantrums when hotel maids dare to give her peanut M&M's. 

Ellie, maybe yoo need to rip a page from Kris Jennier's game book and have evfurryone in yoor fam sign an NDA, pronto! I mean, jesting about girth growth among relatives is one thing, but broadcasting it for all the world to read is a lawsuit waiting to happen. 

Now, while I've signed an NDA at my house, being a Bweaking Nooz reporter I have a special dispensation when it comes to sharing Behind the Scenes insider info on those who share my domain. So what I'm about to reveal is not liable for any lawsuit, mainly because *raises right paw* it's the Troof and Nuthin But The Troof, so Help me Cod.

THE DIRT ON CANDY

My sisfur Candy is a Calico, and easily falls under the category of "Chonkers." Momma says the girl just can't say no to a calorie. It's gotten so Candy gets a portion of canned wet pate without a side order of kibbies because we all know she will scarf down her meal, and then lean over to sneak bites off the plate of her boyfriend, KC. 

And KC will then lean over into Opie's plate... who will lean over into Peaches' plate... who will lean into Candy's plate... except Candy's plate is empty because she didn't leave a single crumb for Queen Peaches.

Since wimmen rarely reveal their weight, and I was unable to find a reliable information source at our family veterinarian, I am unable to report at this time just how chonky Candy actually is. However, when I was enrolled at the National Enquirer School for Journalism I learned pictures are worth a thousand meows:

Now from this aerial shot it may appear that KC is also a member of the Chubby Chonkers Club, however he's actually a big boy and looks slim and healthy when he's strutting his fine self around the house. Or maybe he's deliberately bulging just to make Candy feel less self-conscious about her weight.

As we age us wimmen have problems either losing weight or gaining weight for many reasons. Purrsonally, I lost three pounds when a certain AssWabbit joined my family. After a year he started chasing me all around the house, stalking me like he was a lion on the Serengeti and I was prey.


If yoo are stwuggling with a few pounds, I would be happy to send over my purrsonal Turkish Van weight loss coach free of charge provided yoo keep him at yoor house because I am DONE with his boosheet.

Here's the problem with Candy. She doesn't run, even from Wabbit. She may squeal with outrage, or hiss. But she's a red-blooded Calico and we all know how they are very confidant and will stand their ground when confronted. 

Candy is clearly comfy with her body image and our momma is aware that less calories plus more activity is the secret to getting a pound or so off my sisfur. However there is only so much we can do to motivate someone, and when they are stubborn and constantly hangry, then that purrson is in God's hands and He can deal with her determined cattitude.                                                                                        

AND HERE'S THE REST OF THE STORY

Did yoo know bending low over your plate can create digestion malfunction? Think about all the times yoor fur baby has barfed after eating. Were their plates sitting directly on the floor? Raising the food off the ground will help them digest their noms much easier.

A few years ago we bought a plastic children's table, removed the legs and donated the chairs to Goodwill. All we wanted was the pink table. It works perfectly for the Gang to gather around at mealtime and enjoy their noms without digestive upset occurring after they've finished.


The table is stored when not in use, but when it comes out there is a mad rush to gather around and wait for Food Service Girl (as the Trout Tabbies call her) to serve their meals.

Here is an example of Candy asking KC if he's finished with his food because she's done - for now - with hers. Because we are typical cats and will change our minds about what we like to eat at any given moment, our mom serves three different flavors of Fancy Feast at every meal just in case one... or four... of us decides we don't like what we have in front of us and want to change plates with someone else.

In the example below Opie - also a member of the Chubby Chonkers Club - has cleaned his plate, but clearly was not happy with the flavor he got stuck with.


And so this concludes this week's Tuesdays with Dori. We at It's a Wonderpurr Life are in the process of making changes and redefining the purrpose of this blog. If yoo enjoy my Tuesdays with Dori, please let me know why in the comments below. I won't be hurt too much if yoo are ready for something new.

Until next time...

October 25, 2022

Jesse the Traveling Cat and Why I Wasn't Invited on Vacation


Hi evfurrybuddy, it's me Dori *wavy paws.* If yoo are reading this, I assume yoo have survived the weekend and the return of Monday with all it's despicable hekkishness. Purrsonally I am working on a serious letter to the gov'mint to abolish Mondays at the same time they kick Daylight Savings to the curb for once and for all.

So yoo may have noticed that I was virtually invisible last week to my social media frens. I am mortally wounded to the core of my little heart to be ignored, but my momma explained that she needed a bweak and unfortnately I was sacrificed along with her accounts and our IG Cattoon account.

HOWEVER, I am not just a pwetty face. I am also an adorable purranormal pwivate detective and while there were no ghosts or demons to deal with, I used my spidey senses to find out that not only Wabbit's social media accounts were extremely active, but also a brand new account for Jesse the Toothless Wonder popped up and pwactically overnight went from 116 followers to over 190. And all because he was invited to go on vacation with my momma and daddy.

Not me. I was not invited.

Not that I would have gone if I had been invited. I went to Blogpaws in Kansas City and spent the entire time hiding under the bed behind the headboard, and also behind the bathroom towels. Truly, if I hadn't had Candy with me, I would have probably fainted with the vapors in the truest sense of being a Southern Belle. Which I am, being from Mississippi.

So this is what happened:

Momma was ready to hit the road to some place chilly so she could wear jeans and sweaters, and walk through autumn leaves. She does this every year about this time, so it comes as no surprise to any of us when she hauls out her suitcase and starts running around making notes and piles to pack. However this time I noticed there was a pile of cat food dishes, and a leash and a harness. I fweaked, and hid under the bed, right in the center where Momma can't reach me. I know. I've done this many times.

Finally Fwank knelt down to peek at me all cute and scrunched up in a tight ball of stwess, and told me Jesse had drawn the short straw and was going on vacation.

Yay! I mean... oh too bad. Actually, Fwank doesn't like Jesse from something that happened years ago but Fwank holds a grudge and still isn't over it. And I love Fwank so much, so of course I support him by giving Jesse my very best Stink Eye whenever possible.


So that morning when the car was packed and Jesse was seized unexpectedly and stuffed into his traveling box, I was out and about, giving Momma last minute hugs and ankel rubs. We had a new sitter come to feed us, one who has such a calm demeanor that we all came out of hiding on the second day. 

Meanwhile, from what I've been able to put together from conversations upon my pawrents return, Jesse spent the first day of travel sleeping under the back seat. He didn't eat. He didn't poo. But he did come out to sit in Daddy's lap and to investigate the minivan. He thought it was like a house on wheels.


Fwankly, I am suspiciouis that Jesse was a willing participant on this trip. I looked at his Instagwam and saw him acting like he was truly enjoying being the center of attenshun. Well, naturally I enjoy that too, but I wouldn't pose for pictures the way Jesse did.


Here he is actually looking out the window at moving traffic. And he's not even barfing from motion sickness like Fwank does. Momma repeatedly told Jesse he was a "gud boi" and boy did he eat that up. He purred like he's never purred before, and he was extremely chatty, especially between 2 - 5 am.

So they arrived on the Cherokee Reservation in North Carolina and that night Jesse was left to have some quiet time while Momma and Daddy went to find noms. Unfortnately late at night not many places are open on the reservation, but they found a nice Kobe Express where their lovely waitpurrson showed them photos of elk standing on her front lawn. So Daddy was very excited that he might see elk as well.

When they got back to the hotel room, Jesse was no where to be found. He didn't eat or use his litter box. And they knew he did not escape, so the next thing they did was tear apart the bed. I assume memory of me doing this same thing in Kansas City tipped them off, and sure enough, Jesse was crouched behind the headboard. Yoo can't go under the bed, but there is a gap between the bed box and the wall, which makes it a most excellent hidey hole when yoo are traveling against yoor will.

My momma is allergic to strong bleach and she gets horrible rashes, so they always travel with blankets and towels and their own pillows. So after they pulled Jesse out, they stuffed the hotel pillows on either side so any future access to the hidey hole was foiled. From that day on, Jesse had a wonderpurr time being an only kitteh.

For those of yoo who don't know his backstory, Jesse was born under a neighbor's deck where his momma Peaches had found to keep her babies safe. Unfortunately when all but two kittens were taken away, Peaches made a run for it with Jesse and Jack, and when she returned the entrance hole was covered. So she brought her kittens to my momma next door, and found a forever home for them all.

Jesse has always lived outdoors. Even after Peaches and Jack moved inside, Jesse remained a garage cat because the two times she gave him a chance to be an indoor cat, he peed on stuff. I understand it was a dream of Jesse's to live indoors one day, and finally when we moved to FloryDa, that dream came true. He was once again a garage cat with Chevy and my daddy Nikolas, but when he got stomititis and lost all of his teeth, he had to spend a couple days at the V.E.T., and then a week in Momma's office. When he was well enough to return to the garage, Nik and Chevy told him he was no longer a part of their Garage Band and he was kicked out. So he moved into the house, and has been pretty good about not misbehaving. He has a cool box cave in the loft over the refrigerator, and at night he comes down to eat and socialize with my pawrents. He was pretty happy with the arrangement...

Until he went on vacation and then came home. That's when he got really upset. He wants to be the onliest kitteh, but he can't. He's 13, and he's set in his ways, and even if Momma loved him enough to find him a new home, she knows in her heart he wouldn't adjust too well. So the plan now is to work extra hard getting Jesse to acclimate into the Gang instead of staying on the fringe like he's done since we moved here.

Plans are to get him out and about more often. He did so well in the van, and also riding in Mosey, our stroller. Momma says the more confident he is, the less intimidated by Fwank (and me) he will be.

One thing... can anybuddy recommend a good body harness? Jesse wore a red bandana harness from Kitty Holster and also an orange from Cat Travel, but Jesse pulled in his elbows and got out of them both. Possibly Momma will try the harness again and slip one of Wabbit's tee shirts over it so Jesse can't escape.

So to wrap this up, yes Daddy saw Elk. Lots of them. Momma sez on the Cherokee Reservation the elk are like stray cats -- they're everywhere! In fact at one point when their GPS was acting up and Daddy pulled over, Momma looked up from her map long enough to realize she was staring at a family standing on the road right in front of the car!

The Cherokee Reservation had a lovely casino with top notch restaurants, and the land is beautiful with waterfalls and streams, and thick woodlands. Momma discovered Qualla Java coffee shop where everyone is so nice. Her favorite drink was the Spearfinger, a chocolate, caramel and vanilla latte that she ordered every day she was there. 

The street signs were in both English and in Cherokee.


And there were Bears everywhere! Bear statues that is. Bears play a large part in the Cherokee culture and artists from the clans of Bird, Blue, Deer, Long Hair, Paint, Wild Potato, and Wolf all contributed to the Bear Project.

So, if yoo ever have the chance to visit Cherokee, North Carolina, be sure to take walking shoes and bring yoor camera. Here is the highlight of the trip for Momma when Jesse willingly posed in a box of gourds. His leash was missing so she used her iphone cord to make sure he didn't take off on a walkabout.

Until Next Time...






October 14, 2022

It's Official. Dori Turns Professional.

 

I have exciting news! It's official. I've turned pawfessional.

Pawfessional what? Meowdel? Nooo, although I got a lot of admiring compliments when I showed off wearing my new birthday sweater with the plaid skirt.

Pawfessional Bweaking Nooz Repurrter? Nooo, although my repurrting at the Cat Olympics in 2020 is still being talking about among the judges, and charges are still pending on whether or not I had anything to do with some of the disqualifications among the competitors.

Pawfessional singer? Well, yes. My hits Purrple Underpants, Lets Go Outside and Don't You Put A Bitey (On Me) are still on the Top 10 Greatest Hits List for Pretty Tabby Cats.

But despite all of my accompliments, I'm now an pawfessional froggy hunter.

This is how it happened:


So, Enquiring Minds want to know...

Have yoo ever had the lovely experience of catching something squishy in yoor mouth? And if so, what happened? Did yoo lick it? Did yoo bite? Did yoo *gasp* eat it?

Please let me know, as I'm building a case for my Momma who says anything we catch alive in our Catio is not on the menu and must be handed over without any growling or sassy talk.

Until next time...





October 04, 2022

Hurricane Ian Report


We at It's a Wonderpurr Life are sincerely touched by the outpouring of concern by our social media friends during this past week when Hurricane Ian knocked on our door.

Compared to those who lost their lives and their homes in south Florida, we had literally nothing to complain about. 

We lost power at 4am on Thursday and didn't get it back until 10:30 pm on Friday, and our Internet didn't return until Saturday noon. We lost everything in our refrigerator/freezer. And we lost a four-foot roof panel on our Catio. But no trees fell, and we didn't flood. So your prayers for us were answered.

From 1981 - 1999 Ray and I lived in Jacksonville located in Florida's Northeast corner. During those years we never experienced a hurricane. I think at the time I recall reading Florida was in a thirty year cycle where the hurricanes were busy devastating people on the other side of the world. So having returned to Florida in 2020, this was our very first hurricane.

And like all newbies, despite reading about how to prepare, we were sadly clueless. We had a fridge full of perishables, and when I realized we may lose power, I ran back to the store to buy stuff that wouldn't go bad. Like mac and cheese... except I forgot to make it and also... without refrigeration... it will go bad. (Duh!)

Ray also ran out separate from me, so his grocery haul was giant muffins, cookies, chips, bread...frozen pizza. We've been married 44 years this November so sadly yes, we do think alike.

However with the wind at 50+ mph, our appetites were really the last thing on our minds. Our number one concern was that the pine trees behind our house would fall on us. We've had so many storms over the past weeks that the sandy ground is over-saturated. And since we had visible standing water before the hurricane arrived, I envisioned the high winds would create costly havoc for us.

As it was, the storm ripped off a roof screen on our Catio. We saw it happen and watched as it flew into the pool. Happily, that was the only damage, and one of Ray's golfing friends (think Joe Pesci in Goodfellas) called in a "favor" to get someone over as of tomorrow to give us a repair estimate. Totally appreciated... although I'm wondering what "favor" Ray will be subjected to when his buddy needs something in the future. Ah, fahgettaboudit!

After the storm passed a few members of the Wonderpurr Gang followed us outside to assess the damage. And while we were out there we saw a Great Horned Owl perched on a branch overhead. 

Talk about word getting out among the community predators!

While I ushered the cats back inside... because those birds are big enough to swoop a cat off their paws... Ray went to work building a wooden frame around the screen that had fallen into the pool. When I asked what he was doing he said he was building a patch that he would slide over the hole, thus preventing a hysterical wife watching one of her beloved fur kids be carried away to feed baby owls.

Now, I've been at the bottom of many ladders while Ray does his man-thing and there have been a couple of times when I swore I'd call a divorce lawyer once he was back on land. Kentucky comes to mind. We lived on five acres at the top of a very steep hill, and the house sat on an even steeper hill which meant Ray needed a fifty foot extension ladder in order to stain the wood siding.  

Picture this: Richmond, Kentucky, off I-75. Five acres at the top of a very steep hill surrounded by woodlands. It's mid-November with brisk high winds. Ray is perched precariously at the tippy-top of a 50-foot ladder, half-laying on the roof while applying stain. Kim, fashionably dressed in Kentucky couture - Gloria Vanderbilt jeans, sweater, wool jacket, tennis shoes with probably no socks and maybe a pair of gloves... seriously doubt there was a hat or scarf in sight -  is pressed against the bottom of the ladder freezing her bejeebies off, trying to hold it in place because the winds are strong.

Recalling this event, I asked Ray yesterday why exactly we did that particular job in No-freaking-vember and he replied, "I worried the stain would dry differently if I left it until spring." 

I also have ladder stories involving Ray perched on our Southaven home stairs trying to paint the twenty foot ceiling in the alcove. And of Ray on the same house roof tugging a tarp to cover damage after a huge tree fell on our roof. And he repainted our twenty-foot high living room several times during our 14 years there. I'm sure there are more occasions that I probably blacked out, so yeah, I have a severe ladder phobia that came into play when Ray said he planned to crawl up on our Catio roof to slide his patch into place.

And, of course, he went ahead and did it anyway, despite my concern that he would fall and break his neck, leaving me to figure out how to file insurance claims before I sold the house and moved the heck out of Florida.

For your viewing pleasure, this video reveals the snarky interaction between two people who have been together since their teens. The  man is totally in his element of Home Improvement while his wife is clearly not appreciating the finer points of his creative artistry.


Since this is a cat blog, I'm sure you are wonderpurring how the cats did during the storm. The answer: far better than Ray and I.

They knew something was going on, of course. Rabbit spent Thursday morning acting out beyond his usual AssRabbity antics to the point where I fed him kibble laced with Jackson Galaxy's Bully Solution, then sent him to his ZenDen to sleep.

The senior room became uncomfortable when the air conditioning had been off for a time, so I alternated Rabbit in his room while everyone else roamed freely. 

For those who may be new here, Rabbit is five years old, and a Turkish Van who is extremely intelligent, but has absolutely no filters when it comes to the welfare of his senior fursibs. Particularly Dori. Rabbit has been known to hunt her down, grab her by the scruff of her neck, and drag her into his lair under the couch. 


I kid you not. 

So once that happened, Dori filed a "westwaining odor" against Rabbit, and moved into the senior room.

My only regret was that Chevy and Nikolas aka the Garage Band had to spend two days without light. Nik was fine as he is a Child of the Darkness, but Chevy howled for a flashlight a few times and of course, I obliged.

There was lots of lap snuggling, kibble munching, and sleeping during the storm. And when power returned on Friday at 5 pm, we celebrated by dancing around the living room... except the power went out again a minute later.  

Ray has a theory that if the power companies boot everything up during the day, there will be a massive rush to turn everything back on, probably resulting in a power crash. So the companies turn the power back on after most everyone has gone to bed. And as usual, he was right. It came back on at 10:30 pm, this time permanently.

And so to end this incredibly long adventure, I'll leave you with a video I shot yesterday evening while Dori was in the Catio and suddenly realized she was being watched by an Osprey who belatedly heard about the hole in our roof and was hoping to pick "something" up on his way home to the wife and kids.


Until Nextime...


July 12, 2022

Princess Bed Hog


Written by Hans Christian Andersen, The Princess and the Pea is a fairytale that makes even modern royalty look undemanding.

It tells the tale of an incredibly picky prince who was having trouble finding himself a bride. 

Actually he knew who he wanted for his bride but she was a married woman who chain-smoked, and frankly she thought the whole idea of being under a microscope as the wife of the future king was rubbish.

Oh wait. That was a more recent prince. 

Anyway, he was forced to look far and wide… rather, told his staff to look far and wide… yet continuously found himself paired with women who he didn’t believe were princesses because of things like bad table manners or being too thin. Or too fat. 

Or too old. Too naive. Too racy. 

Too serious. Too chatty. Too quiet.

Jeez man, make up your mind.

Then one dark and stormy night -- a prerequisite in all good fairytales -- a mysterious lady turned up at the castle door requesting somewhere to sleep for the night. 

For whatever reason, she told the prince she was a princess, because obviously a princess would be out on a dark and stormy night without palace bodyguards, her butler, her dresser, her chauffeur or executive chef. 

The prince let her in. Despite her soggy dress and dripping hair, she was a looker.

However his overbearing mother had been born royal, married royal, and bore royal fruit. She would never be caught dead running around at night in soaked clothes, unaccompanied by her ladies in waiting. Therefore she had doubts on the stranger's claim and hatched a plan to test the girl's regal status.



The supposed princess was offered a preposterously magnificent bed, topped with over 20 mattresses, with a single pea hidden among the ludicrous amount of bedding.

 Somehow, she managed to climb into bed and upon waking the next day reported that she couldn’t sleep because she had been in great pain and was bruised by something in the bed.

 The prince declared that only someone accustomed to the finer things in life, such as a tower of mattresses, could have experienced pain from a pea, and so the two married.

Not only is this bizarre because someone could feel, let alone get bruised by a single pea among a ridiculous amount of bedding, but also because she agreed to get married so soon. 

I mean, she didn’t even get to ‘sleep on it’! What? What?


STORY BEHIND THE STORY


Today's fairytale features Elly, our very own Panther Princess who lays claim to numerous beds throughout Casa Wonderpurr. 
I only recently became aware of Elly's bed domination when I placed a cushion on a newly recovered chair and saw her immediately jump onto to it, and take a nap. 

From that point on, no one else used that bed. I started taking photos of her in various beds around the house. And noted that no one else used those beds. Elly is one of my sweet but sassy former colony cats. She is FIV+, but never combative so she lives free and easy among the Wonderpurr Gang. 

There are two Hallmark stories that accompany Elly's life with us. The first being when my beloved Noah brought her to me from the woods, just like he brought me Candy. However Noah was sick and passed not two weeks later. His final gift was Elly.


The other story is how desperate she is to remain an indoor cat. She had been indoors for about two years when we had the carpeting replaced shortly before we put the house on the market. We told the carpet installers NO CATS OUTSIDE. So when Ray saw a tiny black cat on our back porch that overlooked the woods and creek, we were upset. She probably was lying in a sun puddle near the front door when the installers went out, pushing her outside with them. Anyway, she headed for the woods as I ran around the house to get her. Knowing how feral she can be when it comes to being handled, I felt dread that I would lose her. The woods hide a creek that was steep and dry. If she decided to run, she could fall and there would be no way I could rescue her.


Instead I didn't try to go to her, rather I called her out. We carried on a conversation for some time with me calling her name and she answering me with a tiny meow. Finally she emerged from the woods. Oh, I didn't tell you: it was fall and there was a thick carpet of brittle leaves I would need to carry her through to get her back inside. No one was more shocked than me when she let me pick her up, and walk ever-so-slowly through the leaves. With each step I clutched her tightly. How would I get her inside without her EXPLODING all over me? Talk about murder mittens, she's tiny and mani-pedis are a definite No No. But when I rounded the house and reached the front door, I somehow mustered the confidence to hold her with one hand to open the door, and then FLUNG her inside. Needless to say she scampered off, overjoyed to be back inside.

Elly's favorite person is Ray. She's been a touch-me-not until we moved to Florida. Now she dominates his attention when he sits on the couch, or on the floor, or goes to bed. She barely waits for him to lie down before she jumps on his chest to demand pets. 

Small but fierce, she is one of three (Candy and Frank) not impressed by Rabbit's pushy personality, and will smack him across the puss when he tries to goad her into running so he can chase her. Rabbit isn't truly a bad boy, he's just... just... *sigh* An AssRabbit.

We love our Panther Princess, and cannot imagine life without her.

Even if she is a bed hog.




December 17, 2021

Retired and Loathing in Palm Coast



For reasons that now escape me, I allowed Ray to accompany me to Target. I split my grocery shopping between Target and Publix because Kroger does not have stores within a bazillion miles of me.

I really miss Kroger. I had two within a three miles from me in Southaven. And a huge Target in between them. I was so spoiled. I had no idea how much I would miss Kroger with it's cool app, and points that went toward my gas, and my favorite brands. They have Kroger delivery here that you have to use an app to order but no stores. And I love Kroger stores.

But I digress. I am writing about allowing Ray to accompany me to Target.

I wanted to get out of the house early in time for TJ Maxx to open because I have two items to return, and a receipt for only one of them. I'm hoping to get a sales clerk in a good mood to just give me store credit for the item without a receipt. It still has the TJ Maxx sticker on the back, so I should be good.

 But I couldn't get out of the house early because Ray wanted to go with me (he's struggling with what to do with his time outside of golfing, and he wore puppy dog eyes so I agreed to take him along) but first he needed to meet a buyer for a sea urchin tchotchke he had sold on Facebook Marketplace in the parking lot across from our neighborhood. She wasn't able to meet until 11 a.m. so Ray asked me to wait to go to the store. I agreed because... married a long time.

By the time we got to Target it was practically noon, and I skipped TJ Maxx because I knew the store would be overflowing with chaos, and like I said, I didn't have that receipt.

So why am I even writing about this? I know you're wondering... does this have anything to do with cats?

No. 

Although I will add a couple cat photos because I hate to disappoint.

It has to do with being Retired and Married for a Loooong time.

In the past I've written my grocery list in two columns: 

Kim list, which is practically everything.

And Ray list, which are items that Ray will recognize with minimal direction, and hopefully will be able to locate within the store walls without calling me several times. 

Yes, there are occasions when I get home to find items from Ray's list missing because he couldn't find them and therefore didn't put in the cart. Nor did he tell me while we were at the store so I could find them myself.

What kind of things? No, I'm not going to answer that because if he reads this, it may start a DISCUSSION at home that will end with the Wonderpurr Gang running for cover.

I did not write a Ray list this time because my intention was to go solo. However with him tagging along, I gave him a job. Go to Starbucks and buy three gift cards at $10 each.

He repeated the request backwards. Ten gift cards at $3 each.

I no longer laugh because I've been married a long time and laughter only encourages him.

I grab a cart and leave him behind in a cloud of huff.

I'm halfway down aisle number two when I get a text. Do you want a drink?

Me: Ok. Black tall.


Ray: Black tall coffee?

Me being mature by resisting the temptation to write "duh": Yes.

A short time later he arrives and hands me my drink. I notice he does not have a drink.

Where's yours, I ask. He says he would have split one of the those frozen drinks with the mocha and whipped cream, but I wanted black... which Ray does not drink. Ray is not much of a coffee drinker, and since I gave up sugar and milk, there has formed a noticeable chasm in our marriage.

Ray has always been of the nature that we cannot order the same meal at a restaurant because he likes to split the dishes so he gets to taste two dinners. But what if I want the eggplant parm too? No! If I release the rebel in me and order whatever he ordered first, he will tell the waitress to change his order to something else.

So now that I no longer drink candy coffee, we have lost practically 30% of what we had in common.

In the past, knowing Ray does not like black coffee, but he wants to split, I will order his mocha latte and take only a couple sips. But I'm heading full steam toward another birthday plus another New Year and frankly I need to drop some pounds. I don't digest milk well, and sugar in my coffee doesn't do anything for me other than bloat me with self-loathing.

So I happily enjoyed my Black Tall while Ray tagged along behind me through the rest of my shopping trip. And I did not feel guilty. Although I did bring it up in the car, asking why he did not buy himself his own coffee.

Because, he said, he wanted to split it.

Too bad, so sad.

If you are open to celebrating Pete Cusack's life on his birthday January 31st, be sure to pick out your favorite post from his blog, Tomcat Commentary by Tim, and post on your blog on that date.

Until Next Time...



October 18, 2021

Mixing It Up with Country Fairs and Dental Scans

 



Hello Furends and their Pawents. This is Kim, hip-checking Dori and Rabbit, and the rest of the Wonderpurr Gang aside for a little me time on my own damn blog. I've noticed most of us pet pawrents rarely step in front of the camera, so to speak, but when you're going through a semi-burn out like I've been this past summer... um... year... it's time to mix things up.

I am not a fan of summertime humidity, but here in Flory-Da, as Dori refers to our new home state, it feels like humidity is a way of life. I tend to move slowly throughout my day, like I'm wading through an invisible wall of damp heat. My joints have notified me that unless things change, they will ramp up the inflammation, and I will cease to enjoy physical activity... like walking without pain.

On Sunday Ray informed me there was a chill in the air, it being October. I checked my weather app and sure enough, it was 70 degrees. He said we had to get out of the house and drive 90 minutes north. Sounded like a good idea to me. North sounds definitely chillier. When we stopped driving, we had arrived in Callahan, a small town just south of the Georgia border. There we joined the crowd filing into the Northeast Florida Fairgrounds.

Ray loves a good country fair. So do I, but mostly for the barnyard animals. There is nothing like the aroma of carnival popcorn mixing with cow pucky and kiddie barf. It's something everyone should experience at least once in their life.

Our favorite fair above everything continues to be the Minnesota State Fair. We went years ago to meet up with an author friend of mine, and her husband. We had tickets to see Garrison Keillor who was closing the fair on it's last day. You wouldn't have known it was the last day, because the fairgrounds were spic and span clean, the exhibits were pristine, and the food was fabulous. We even went on a couple of rides, which still amazes me since I'm not a fan of rides. If you ever have the chance to visit Minnesota's State Fair, definitely put it on your Bucket List.

While in Callahan, I made a short video of our walk around the grounds. Mostly barn animals taking a nap, but this isn't Minnesota.

Also, this past week I returned to North Flagler Dental Associates to be fitted for sleep retainers after spending this past summer wearing ClearCorrect braces. This was my third foray into the wacky world of braces, as my teeth are fans of Fleetwood Mac and like to go their own way. But this time I'm pretty sure they've been convinced to go my way.

The sleep retainers, however, did not fit properly. So Dr. Smith told his assistant Brittany - sorry I hope I spelled your name right - to use a dental scan machine they had just purchased. It's made by Dentsply Sirona. You're probably wondering why I would even mention this, considering this is (mostly) a cat blog. Well, I'm a fan of tech stuff. And this machine caught my interest.

After running a wand over the front, back, inside and outside of my teeth, Brittany showed me the 3D scan on her screen.

This was the first time she had used the machine, as it had arrived the week before, and only one other staff member had had time to read the manual. That sounds like me. Play with the new toy first, then read the manual. Love it.

Anyway, Brittany caught on pretty fast, and had me scanned for a sleep retainer that will arrive much faster to the office than the method of taking a gummy mold. 

So, these are a couple of the results from my scan:


Now I'm going to bet that no one else has published 3D scans of their teeth on their cat blog, so I'm going to claim myself a trendsetter. *takes a bow.*

Okay, I'm done hogging my blog. Please return tomorrow for Tuesdays with Dori. She has some Bweaking Nooz to report regarding our resident Romeo and Juliet, Candy and KC.



June 18, 2021

Writer Inpurr-rupted





Before Ray retired I knew I had from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m. to get my blogging and writing done before he came home, but now it's a free for all where at any given moment he will pop in to my office to see if I'm hungry because he is (hint hint), or to let me know that one of the cats barfed cuz he heard it but isn't exactly sure where the barf is. He might need help doing something on his laptop because while Ray is fantastic at fixing stuff, he is clueless when it comes to anything techy. Or maybe he wants me to drop everything and film the snake-eating bird in our front yard. I know you're dying to see that video, so I will post it here with a slight warning: It's rated PG for ... you guessed it. Pretty Gross.


May 11, 2021

Is it Friday Yet?



Hi, this is Kim subbing for Dori who says she's off on assignment, but I happen to know she's napping on her newly favorite window hammock, and doesn't seem inclined to write her Tuesday report.

Anyway, the week just started, but  I'm already wishing it were over. I'm still waiting for my new desk with the hutch and chair to be delivered, so that means my office has become a disorganized mess filled with boxes from the closet purging Ray and I did last week (our third sweep since moving but we're calling it "a process"). 


Since there's no place for me to sit in my office, I have to use the living room, and if I write, I do it with my laptop literally in my lap.  And since I can't concentrate with a hot body weighing down my arm, or draped over my keyboard, I haven't been inspired to write. So what I suspect will be a rambling, disjointed post may or may not see publication.

Nikolas

One big hurdle after another this past week started with Dori's daddy Nikolas not eating, and drooling plenty. So I ran him over to the vet by the beach who said he had a bad tooth and needed a dental cleaning. She then quoted me $700-$1000. After I picked myself up off the floor, I then engaged my brain cells to figure out I ain't livin' in Kansas no more. This county has some high end homes and a vet at the beach isn't exactly cheap, what with the rent I'm sure she pays. So, I went to work on Google, checking into other counties around me that had lower financial obligations. I found one, and took Nikky there for a second opinion. 

I had to sit in the car during a lightning storm while my fur kid was examined, but when the vet called me she had a surprise. She said Nik indeed needed a cleaning, but he had also lost a tooth. It apparently broke off under the gum line. She said it would heal fine, and she would give him an antibiotic and his rabies update, and the cost would be $156. So, I will be seeing this vet again and again. Especially after she told me that my county had a 4 pet limit. Huh? OMG and @&%$#. She then said, knowing I'm a cat rescuer (I have a problem biting my tongue when it comes to my cats) she thinks its ridiculous and she has lots of clients with more than 4 pets. Said she vets are supposed to report those with more than 4, which I also found shocking. But again she reassured me she thought that was stupid, and since I am a rebel and so is she, we are going to keep each other's secrets.

Frank

After Nik came Frank, suffering with another UTI for the third time this year. I have him on Orbax but he keeps getting the dang things. So I consulted my Anipals who are helpful in suggesting different litters, different boxes, different foods and cranberry to add to his diet. I'm trying them all, plus I'm putting the entire gang on urinary tract health food, because Frank, along with Opie, plate hop during mealtime, so I am never sure exactly who is eating what.

Monkey on my Back

After years of writing blogs and novels, my back is in bad shape. You can't sit at a desk for years for hours a day and not have some problems. My issues returned with a vengeance after we moved and after putting it off for way too long, I have finally returned to seeking chiropractic help. I had one great doctor at my prior home, but several bad ones. So when choosing a chiropractor here, I looked at the reviews and the number of years he's been in biz. The one I found has been in biz for 46 years! Yay! I clicked with him on the first visit since he's from Detroit, and he's 71, which told me he's been around the block a few times and there wouldn't be any nonsense. I know what I can take, and what I can't. I was pleasantly surprised when he pulled out a Homedics massager and ran it over my spine. Oh! It hurt so good! 

So good that I bought my own Homedics massager. It arrived last night. I immediately used it on Ray who has been whining complaining about his back after scrubbing the pool. Our pool is once again giving Ray the fits, and he's been bending over scrubbing algae and running samples over to Pinch a Penny to see what's going on. He's determined to conquer this beast without hiring a Pool Master, especially since we have a very small pool. Anyway, he enjoyed the machine with its heat running over his lower back, and as I expertly ran it over his spine, up to his neck and back down to his hips, he went limp. Then it was my turn.

After about three minutes I had not gone limp. In fact, I was tense and braced for pain. This was not the massage I experienced at the chiropractor. But it was the same machine. What was different?

One guess: Ray.

He was running the machine back and forth over my spine from side to side, hitting my shoulder blades and jarring my hips. I finally told him to stop, and this time LISTEN TO ME and do it like I instructed: up and down the spine, not back and forth like he's playing bumper cars. I should have known better than to give Ray a weapon like the massager. It's like giving a monkey a gun.


Jesse the Toothless Wonder

On the positive side, Jesse is suddenly sick of his own company in the cat apartment, and is happy to hang out with Ray and I while we watch evening television. I think it was the positive vibes sent by Marjorie Dawson at Dash Kitten who made several suggestions to get Jesse out of his room and back to socializing. For whatever reason, he suddenly joined us, not only on the couch, but also in our laps. It might have a lot to do with Frank and Dori (his arch nemesis) being out on the Catio while he's with us, and Rabbit is in his Zen Den, but for several nights now Jesse has been schmoozing with us for well over an hour. And that is huge for this dude.

Rainbow Bridge

This past week also brought sad news with the passing of Newt the Cat, Wiley Cat and Momma's Kat's Bear Cat. Herman thought of all three as his good furends on Twitter, and it hurts our hearts to hear of their passing. We send each of their families our sincerest condolences.

Marjorie wrote a lovely tribute to Newt that you can read by clicking here.

Until Next Time...

https://www.gofundme.com/f/safelyhomeproject?utm_campaign=p_cp+share-sheet&utm_medium=copy_link_all&utm_source=customer