Celebrating Caffeine Candy

Five years ago on June 15th, Candy joined the Wonderpurr Gang. She arrived as a skinny year-old calico, brought to me by my beloved Noah, a beautiful, semi-feral yard panther who later brought us Elly before he passed from hidden illnesses.

Caffeine Candy got her nickname when she took to licking the Keurig nozzle after I made morning coffee. Thankfully she kicked the habit, and I no longer need to disinfect before I have my brew.

When Candy first joined our family, I could tell she had been homeless for awhile, but clearly she once knew the comforts of indoor living. She easily adapted to the resident members of the Gang, particularly Dori, who was thrilled to have a girlfriend near her age to play with. 

The first year with us flew by with little drama. Candy ate like a voracious dog, cleaning her plate, along with whatever crumbs she found on other plates. It didn't take long before the skinny girl filled out to the point where we started calling her Bootilicious. Indeed, she had an ample bottom.

Dori thrived having Candy as her gal pal. They slept together, chased and played with each other. Where you would see one, you'd see another. But then just seven months later, Noah returned with a tiny black yearling to my yard. It struck me that Noah understood that these girls needed a safe place from the other feral cats in the neighborhood, and that I would help them. So, Elly joined our family. It didn't

occur to me that Elly would cause a problem, as she was tiny and sweet, and had an easygoing personality. But Dori did not like her right from the start. Especially because Candy acted like she knew Elly, and they already had a tight bond. It was almost like a cat colony reunion between the two of them, and unfortunately Dori was the odd girl out. If there is one thing I've learned about Dori, she takes it pretty hard when she's not the apple of someone's eye, i.e. Candy, Herman, Frank. So after Elly joined us, Dori acted up a little, hissing at Elly as well as her former BFF Candy. Dori also holds a grudge, because to this day, she does not like Elly, and rarely allows Candy the privilege of giving her an ear bath.

Regardless, Candy was a delightful member of our household, an easy friend to all. Highly photogenic, I loved catching her in comfortable poses while she enjoyed a Wonderpurr Life as an indoor cat. I felt like she was an Old Soul, able to reassure everyone around her with an almost Zen-like calmness. That calmness came in handy when Blogpaws Kansas City arrived and I had plans for Dori to attend. From experience taking Dori to the vet where she would curl into a tight ball and the vet would have to use an impressive amount of strength to pry her legs from her body, I knew she would spend the week frightened and miserable. Enter Candy. Like a goat soothing a thoroughbred race horse, Candy would ease Dori's fears.                                                                                                                                              Sure enough, Dori did well during the drive from Memphis to Kansas City, but once we entered the hotel room, she found a way to squeeze between the bed and wall, and that's where she stayed for a couple days. Meanwhile I had dozens of people asking me where Dori was. I felt nekked not having a cat to push around in a stroller. After all, Herman had attended Blogpaws several times before I gave him permission to retire. The final Blogpaws we went to in Myrtle Beach, he clearly was miserable and preferred to be left in the hotel room.

Anyway, I put Candy in the stroller, and pushed her around the Brands Hall. I even unzipped the stroller, and she crawled out to explore Kate Benjamin's Cat Lounge. I was very surprised by how at-ease she was meeting strangers. I recall her gaze sweeping the room, her head turning this way and that as she took in the dogs, the sights, the smells, and the number of people who stopped to say hello and pet her. She took everything in stride. I was so very proud of her. In fact, I really wanted to take her to the final day breakfast, but Dori still had not made an appearance, so Candy was left in the room, and Dori was taken to the breakfast. And like her performances at the vet, she curled into a tight ball and glowered at everyone from safely under the blankets.

Shortly before we moved from Memphis to Florida, I adopted the sad tabby who had sheltered in my yard for a couple years, always leaving before I had a chance to reassure I wouldn't harm him. It took a raccoon named Honeybear that he had befriended to convince him that I was okay. Seriously, I'd watched him for months try to rub up against my raccoons, who all graciously did not rip him to shreds. It was evident the tabby had lots of love to give, but no one to give it to. I so wanted to adopt him, but it took me all winter to coax him into not running when I stepped outside to feed him. Long story short, after I brought K.C. indoors, Candy claimed him. She told him he would be her boyfriend, and he certainly didn't argue. Their romance caught fire and has yet to burn out.

They became so close, so fast, that I ultimately realized that Candy had not known Elly previous to joining our household. This was just Candy's nature. She has a huge heart, and wants to reassure those around her that they should relax and enjoy being Rescued. Kevin Coopurr aka K.C. definitely benefitted from having Candy take him under her Zen-like influence. He easily transitioned from a stray with numerous fears and hang-ups, to a joyful, chill kind-of-guy that all the Wonderpurr girls fell in love with. Even Dori. I put my bonded Romeo and Juliet together in the same carrier when we moved to Florida, and of all the cats, Candy and K.C. were the least traumatized. Upon leaving their carrier, they walked around the house like newlyweds, picking out the places they would set up housekeeping.

A year after moving to Florida, Candy is loving life, with whatever memories she may have had of her past existence as a scrawny stray far behind her. She sleeps curled up each night in K.C.'s arms, and lounges on the Catio with her beloved never far from her side. While all of the Wonderpurr Gang has embraced Candy, it is clear to me that K.C. has been the ultimate benefactor of whatever nucleus of calm acceptance Candy possesses. I only recently came to the realization that I may have physically brought K.C. in out of the cold, but it was Candy who actually rescued him from his traumatized life. To put it simply: he adores her with every cell in his being.

       

I can't believe it's only been five years since I brought Candy into my home. I feel like she's been here forever. And while some of my cats make even a year seem like Forever (looking at you AssRabbit) with Candy, I pray that she continues to enjoy a long and healthy existence, because I cannot imagine Life without her.

Happy Birthday, Caffeine Candy. We all feel Blessed to know you.

Fatal Attraction to Plastic Bags

 

It all started when Rabbit was about a year old. I saw him chewing on an icy bottle of Ozarka. Since he's a pedigreed Turkish Van I was surprised he didn't ask for Evian or Fuji. I figured he was teething and the cold bottle soothed his gums. The licking and chewing went on over the next two years. I didn't think much about it. 

The Difference Between Men and Women

 

The Primal Habits of Humans

Dear Diary: 

You wouldn't think cats would be bothered by Mondays, but the truth is, we notice the primal habits of our hoomons change with the start of the week. Fur instance, Monday is trash day. The truck arrives at the Crack of Dawn, and unless Dadders rolls outta bed before that dawn cracks, we all get to enjoy our garbage for another three days. And let me reassure you, our household makes more garbage than ANY other house on our block. 

Purrson of the Year

 

Hey evfurryone, it's me, Rabbit. I wanted to share with you the wonderpurr tribute Time did on me, calling me Purrson of the Year. And the year is only five months old! I can't imagine what adoray-shuns and triboo-layshuns will be stowed on me by year end. But I'm a humble guy and take all this fame and worshipping fans in stride. I understand a pawtrait is being done of me in all my glorious Turkish Vanglory. I bet that pawtrait ends up on a billboard over Times Square or even Hollywood, and hoomons gather around to stare, taking pikchures and whispurring among themselves how envious they are that they don't live with me.

Yah, I can't wait to see my awards pawtrait and share it with all of you.

Artist used PicsArt using Distortion and White Ice filter.

Losing One's Identity with the Loss of a Famous Fur Kid

 

This past Sunday Momma Kat lost her beloved Bear Cat.

To those outside of the Anipal community, Bear was "just a cat." I'm blessed to be on the inside of that ridiculous notion. I know, like everyone reading this post, that Bear was more than just a cat. He was Katherine's everything. He changed her life, and gave her back her sense of well-being, just by being there for her.

For those who build their social media around one predominant fur kid, losing that kid knocks the breathe out of you. Katherine herself said how she now feels like she's lost her identity with Bear's passing. 

It's understandable. For me, I started building my social media around Herman TattleCat, never once contemplating what TattleCat would be once he passed. As he aged, tolerating camera intrusion less and less, I leave him be. And therefore, TattleCat's social media with 12,000+ has faded into a shell of what it once was.

Of course I have lots of cats to take his place, but NO ONE can ever take Herman's place. He is one of a kind. And so, with Herman in retirement, I struggle to find my voice. I knew the voice of Herman!!! (he never goes anywhere without his 3 exclamation points). Just like I know the voice of Dori and Rabbit (God help me). Herman has always been sweet and soft, as opposed to brash and unashamed of being naughty, and I miss posting current photos of him. And when his time comes, I will not announce it to the world. He is in retirement ... for good.

Losing Herman, like Katherine lost Bear, hits me in the heart unlike the other cats I've lost. Yes, there have been many before him who could have easily hit high social media numbers because they were truly awesome. But Herm is exceptional. Half Turkish Van, half Angora, his round head, round intelligent eyes, and tiny body reach deep into my soul and have never let go since the day I found him. We bonded instantly, like Love at First Sight. It's that connection, like an addiction, that makes losing him agonizing to even think about. And that's why I choose not to share his passing with the world. I will grieve in private. I cannot bear to see his name on a rock during the Tribute Rides, nor announced every year on his Angleversary. To me that's like ripping the scab off a horrific wound, Every. Single. Year. I'm told many people take comfort in the celebration of Angelversaries. I am not one of them.

It is my opinion that by sharing our fur kids with the World elevates them into another realm. They become 3D; larger than LIFE. I saw for myself the way people reacted when they met Herman at Blogpaws. I have a photo of women surrounding Herm in Mosey, his stroller. He even got mobbed in the hotel bathroom! Herm took the adoration of his fans in stride, sitting patiently while they took his photo, often posing with him. At his first Blogpaws in Vegas a group of Japanese tourists surrounded him, on their knees, excited to be taking pictures of "TattleCat," like he was Harrison Furred, David Meowie, Catrick Swayze, or The Cat Formerly Known as Purrince.

The fur kids have no idea what all the fuss is about, but their manager moms and dads sure do. So when we lose them, we do experience a particularly heartbreaking realization that it's all over. We all cried when Debbie lost her Katie, but luckily we had our love for Waffles who was ready to step forward. Cathrine had her B-Team when Bionic Basil passed. Jacqui lost Eric and Flynn, but turned her blog into a celebration of their lives.  I'm confidant in time Katherine will find her footing and do the same with Ellie. 

Herman's TattleCat account will soon undergo a change, featuring him in retirement, enjoying such recreations as lawn bowling, fishing, croquet and boating with his beloved wife, Belle. I have allowed Rabbit to successfully dominate Instagram with his notorious, unashamed naughtiness, and soon will bring him forward on Twitter to bump tails with the other Bad Boys of Twitter.

I asked Dori if she wanted to take over Herman's account with his high numbers, but she said she is satisfied to have a small group of close furends, and doesn't like the spotlight shining too brightly on her. I'm not surprised considering she spent her only Blogpaws appearance reporting LIVE from under the bed and behind the bath towels.

 

Since Herman went into retirement, I have struggled to find the spark I once had when blogging and tweeting. I cherish my memories of those fresh fun days when the Anipals were young and vibrant, and we had to deal with indecent spammers infiltrating our Twitter pawties. We set up Jail Accounts because we would tweet fast and furious, and Twitter would put us in Jail for an undetermined amount of time to cool us down, especially at charity fund raising pawties. At the Anipal Prom, Herman went to jail five times. He set a record that night. 

And the Anipal Weddings... Herman and Belle had the largest wedding party Dana Pixie ever made. The wedding and reception trended Number One on Twitter. 

Afterward, Dana recruited me to join the AWP helping her to make the scenes, which was an eye-opening experience. But that was yesterday, and living in the past ain't my thang.

My heart goes out to Katherine during these first days and weeks following Bear's passing. She in particular shared so much of herself through Bear. I got to hang out with Katherine in person at three Blogpaws, in fact stepping out of an elevator and directly into her arms! Always felt like I was reconnecting with a dear dear friend. I will never forget how she wanted to meet Dori so bad, but Dori was in seclusion until the very last day when I dragged her out for breakfast. Kat had just sat down to eat when I casually mentioned Dori was here. Kat said, "Screw breakfast," and ran to kneel beside my darling fraidy cat and fawn over her. 

I send Katherine, Ellie and The Boy my sincere condolences, and to Kat in particular my love and support while she searches to find her new voice. Her New Normal. It's necessary. We cannot survive living in the past. We are born to live, and born to die. And everything in between is a series of events meant to live and learn.