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.

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.


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.


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...