Monday, July 28, 2008

The Red checks in

Hello world from Acorn Oakmist "The Red",
terror of the neighborhood.
Yes, I am eleven years old, but what of that? I'm orange. I'm here. Deal with it.

I have two humans well in hand. Their names are "My Human" and "The Other One." I will sit
on My Human's lap and let her fuss over me. I let both of them pet me, feed me, and as part of the Human Full Employment Act, I allow both of them to let me in the front door (which I whap convincingly with head or paw) just after I have decided to exit the cat door at the back.

After all, there is no such thing as a Cat Door --(harrumph) they're ALL cat doors. Just that some of them have human attendants and others do not!

I have heard the term "bionic kitty" a few times when they talk about me. This apparently started when I had some kind of event -- my lips are sealed, because I was involved in some super secret mission possibly involving a roof and some squirrels or another cat -- and had some problems resulting in what my humans called a "Slipped Disc". They kidnapped me, stuck me in a nasty place with a lot of other animals where they say they fixed it, and then sent me home in a cage,... a CAGE! where I was supposed to stay for several weeks! The very idea! I raised enough ruckus that they saw the error of their ways and ultimately, let me out into the back yard. The silly humans thought they could keep me in the back yard, safe, simply because of their mistaken assumption that I couldn't jump over a six foot fence. Well, now. It was sort of true, for a while, but there was this woodpile, see...(kitty wheels turning) So I wound up exploring the next door neighbor's yard, then strolling across the street to inspect another neighbor's driveway, and the field, and the bushes in front of my humans' house, and so on... You would have thought from how my humans acted that I was going to fall apart in little furry pieces. NOt so. Proved them wrong, whipped the neighborhood back into shape and here I am.
That was three years ago and now, I just move...deliberately. That's the word I was looking for.

And the roof is no big deal, either.

My little brother Elfstone, who really does get too big for his britches some days, likes to waste time hunting. I just let my humans cater to me instead. It's much more fun. But I have to keep them in line, you know. Not only am I orange -- I was born around St. Pat's Day and when I purr I have an irresistible brogue. The Other One, purrticularly, likes the sweet talk, especially at four or five in the morning when I wake her up to feed me. You should hear her talk back. Oh my. But then, one does not reveal a Lady's Secret, now does one?

Sunday, July 27, 2008

Allow me to introduce myself

My name is Elfstone Chestnut Pussycat. This is my human's blog. I'm one of the managing editors.

I am a nine year old Siamese mix and my human gives great weight to what I tell her. Actually, since my irresistible blue eyes ARE as big as my stomach, I have a bit of great weight on my own. About eighteen and a half pounds worth.

Can't figure out why she calls me spoiled -- she doesn't feed me nearly enough. Oh, sure, she puts down _cat food_ (!) and gives me lots of tidbits -- but for some reason she keeps wanting to stop at about 25 of them...I'm a poor starving pussycat ;) As a friend of hers aptly translated for me, "What'll I have.. pork, chicken? Oh, I'll just stroll across the road and have some rabbit." (And I'm NOT telling her where I find them!)

Of course, I'm still a kitten, even if she does call me the Giant Kitten: I am my human's kitten the way human children are still their momma's babies.

Now if I could only convince the redhead (my big brother Acorn) to stop trying to swat me on the butt when he's in the mood to whip the neighborhood into shape. I'm bigger than he is now. And cuter. But does this stop him? Nooo.

Friday, July 25, 2008

Cat Comedy

more cat pictures

Silence isn't golden

In a fit of insecurity I'm bouncing off the walls worrying about people. I think this is a reaction to my friend's heart attack death last Sunday. And because I know that some people I deeply care for are very vulnerable to their own inner demons.

(Of course, in a truly surreal Murphy's Law moment, one person I seriously never want to hear from again wrote me a letter this week. Maybe THE only person I never want to hear from again. It wasn't a bad letter; but we have too much history.)

I have been consoling myself this week by web wandering, and have found some cool blogs. One such, seems to have been inactive for a while and I hope it picks back up. (Word Imp, if you stumble across this post, this means you! )

And I appreciate smart and witty blogs by the feline contingent. I may be able to persuade my feline owners to post here some day.

Monday, July 21, 2008


I am wandering through this new cyberworld of blogging and stopping a few times in an odd and wonderful assortment of cabbages and kings. More will be added as time permits -- time meaning when I can sit down in a non-multitask mode and find more interesting stuff. This is rare.

A loss

We lost a dear SCA friend yesterday. He was a genius, herald, musician, avid reader, storyteller.
HL Ciaran Cluana Ferta (as he was known in the SCA universe) died at July Coronation in Eastern Washington, doing what he loved best -- in service to this world within a world, camping with hundreds of friends.

We are grieving, even though we have stood down from this group for a while; we were still fast friends.