Friday, July 26, 2013

Post-Friday Beast Blogging: The We Haz Hobbies Edition

RILEY:  Am I ruling the world?  No.  Am I suddenly an airline tray table?  Yes.
Something...somewhere along the line...has gone horribly wrong.

MOONDOGGIE:  Hey there.  This is my contribution to that thing everyone's doing about guys posing like pin-up girls...Sorry it turned out so sexy -- I realize that undercuts your meme...Wasn't intentional.


acrannymint said...

Sadly my Ripley clone Sam went to the catnip patch in the sky last week. I had 17 good years with him

ifthethunderdontgetya™³²®© said...

My condolences, acrannymint.

Scott said...

I'd forgotten the amazing resemblance between Sam and Riley.

Our deepest sympathies, cranny. I know even 17 good years aren't enough with someone you love.

Li'l Innocent said...

Oh, crannymint, I'm so sorry. Scott's right, 17 years is far from enough. It's clear from that photo that he was a lovely boy, a cat of character.

Doc Logan said...

Deepest sympathy, acrannymint. I'm sure Sam valued every second of those seventeen years as much as you did.

maryclev said...

oh, Cranny! So sorry for the loss of Sam. Tuxedo Cats are. The. Best!

D. Sidhe said...

Always so heartbreaking, Cranny. You have my sympathies also. The fact that cats don't live as long as humans has always struck me as evidence against intelligent design, and just cruel of the universe to boot.

I'm about three minutes away from squishing Riley just to watch her be all offended. Because that is a sweet picture.

I'm finding I'm having a harder time than I expected proving I'm not a robot. Weird.

grouchomarxist said...

Even though it's been almost two years now, I still tear up when I think about losing Puck, the van cat who appeared out of nowhere, ran across my front yard, up the steps and jumped into my lap that Thanksgiving evening in 1993, as I was sitting on the porch talking with my brother. That cat walked right into a house full of strangers as if he owned the place, rubbed up against the dog -- who fortunately liked cats, but was nonetheless mighty perplexed -- and proceeded straight through the kitchen to the cat food bin.

He spent 17 1/2 of his estimated 18 years with us. My heartfelt condolences, acrannymint.

I'd say Puck was the best cat of the several who've lodged with us here at the Grouchomarxist Home for Wayward Pets. But I will agree that tuxedo cats always seem to have a great sense of style. It's that Mephistophelian thing, I guess.

Anntichrist S. Coulter said...

My condolences to you, too, Grouchomarxist. Cats know a good thing when they see/smell/hear it, and they know critter people when they cross paths. A lot of "stray"/feral/abandoned cats are rife con-artists (I'm currently feeding 2 every day and one whenever in the hell the whim takes him, plus one VERY batshit-wild torti whom we hardly EVER see in the daylight, and even at dusk or dark, she's one really fast-moving blur. At least she's spayed, thanks to the SPCA's traps. Well, hell, all of 'em are, though I hadda pay for Chuckie the Orange-Haired Sociopath. Sometimes I doubt that they REALLY took Bob Big-Yellow's balls, he gets so territorial over my back yard, but James just laughs at him anyway, even though Bob is easily 3X James's malnourished-for-the-first-year size that doubled after he adopted me but that still ain't big.

My heartfelt sympathies, Crannymint darlin' heart. When Biddy & Boy died @ 14 & 14.5, it crushed me. I swore that I'd never have another animal again, at least, not in the house. What I wouldn't give for another couple of years... and yeah, that includes breaking laws of time, space, physics, and any given municipality. I'm sure that you feel the same, Cranny. And hell yeah, if you pulled it off, I'd do whatever I could to raise your bail money.

It's ALWAYS too soon. It's SO not fair that we outlive them. And after been followed-around by my Bubbe-Boy like a puppy, even Teh Dick adopted a tuxedo cat named Moose, who would come into the kitchen every pre-dawn coffee session before Teh Dick went to work, to head-butt the hell out of his leg and rub his big ol' fat head on the old man's calloused hands. That came out weird, didn't it. Oh well.

Tuxedo cats are unique, though I've been adopted 3X by black cats in a row. James has 2 big white spots on his belly, but everywhere else, he's pitch-black and looks like he could be Biddy's offspring. Those big yellow eyes are staring at me right now, 'cause he's pissed that I slipped a can of BEEF cat food into the mix and he does. not. fucking. approve.

He's got it SO fucking hard. Not quite as sweet as the inimitable Riley nor the spoiled-rotten Moondoggie, but he's gotten used to going outside on a harness & 25' leash, so he can't bitch TOO much. Well, he DOES bitch, and not in an intimidating-ruler-of-teh-universe way like Riley, either, but that doesn't change the price of catnip, does it.

Love to all of y'all's kittehs, and careful of the fucking skeeters! 32 years of having cats, and THIS one gets heartworms! Every vet & "vet" that I've had, "Ohhh, nah, cats don't get heartworms, don't sweat it..." Fucking assholes. Here in the Crotch Of America, aka Satan's Jockstrap, we now have SEVEN NEW SPECIES OF MOSQUITOES that have migrated up from Central America & over from FLORIDA, aka Teh Infected Wang Of America. Citronella? You can hear the bitches laughing, they're IMMUNE. Malathion? Bitches, please. I damned near poisoned MYSELF, didn't make a DENT on them.

But, compared to some places, I guess that even The-Only-City-In-LA-That-DOESN'T-Do-Mosquito-Abatement doesn't have it so hard:

Annnnddd, on THAT cheery note, James & I will shut the fuck up and go to bed. Love to all. Well, I *hope* that he'll eventually shut the hell up...

Anntichrist S. Coulter said...

P.S. Re: insane kittehs: Does anybody know how to reach up under a house and retrieve a 25' longe-line "leash" and harness that's been tangled around the plumbing pipes & floor joists and you can't manage to crawl up under the house to do so?

That 25-foot line cost me a nice chunk, ss did the harness that James inherited from Biddy or Bubbe Boy --- I sure as hell can't leave it up under there for the possum gang of obnoxious teenagers to knaw upon and use as shredded-polyester-knit NESTING MATERIALS. If I was to give those giant rat-like, shark-fanged VERMIN ***anyfuckinthing***, it'd be POISONED PIE.

Any tips on how to retrieve James' set-up for his outside time, which he managed to fuck-up severely when I turned my back on him for all of FIVE MINUTES??!?!?! Any suggestions are welcome, if it'll keep me from having to belly-crawl under the damned house! I'm pretty sure that it's wrapped-around some of the cold-water intake pipes from the Sewerage & Water Board, but there's no way in hell that THEY'D come out here to HELP anybody, I guarantee it.