Open Letter to a Confusing Kitty

Dear Sweet, Loveable, Cuddly, Very Dumb Luna,

How can you even possibly begin to sleep like this? Are you Gumby? Are you made of Jello? Are you missing some vertebrae? I don't even understand. You're a cat. Not a contortionist. Please explain.

Love,
Sarah


Love & Tuna!

Caption This: The Ambush Edition

"Touch my butt and die, twerp. Love, Luna the Tuna."

Love & Tuna!

Tiny, Tiny Trekkies

What are you doing this lovely Tuesday evening, Sarah?

Oh, ya know...the usual. Watching Star Trek: Next Gen with my cats while consuming an unreasonably large amount of popcorn (which is totally a vegetable, for the record.)

I am well aware that this may be one of the nerdiest/crazy-cat-ladiest sentences I have ever (and possibly will ever) construct. But there it is.

Incidentally, this is the only show I have discovered that all three of my cats will sit quietly and watch. Yes, even Artemis.

Seriously, I pull up an episode from Netflix, and suddenly all three of them drop whatever they are doing, and plop down in front of the TV. It's like they're all hypnotized. Drawn in. Probably by Patrick Stewart's foxy, foxy baldness.



Love & Tuna!

Caption This: The Boxy Edition

It's time for another fascinating round of Caption This! Still featuring Kyo...because...well...this was too cute not to photograph. Also, yes...that is the box my Blu-ray player came in. And it's STILL on the couch. Kyo won't let me take it. Okay, enough commentary. On to the captions!

"This is my box, this is my box. I never travel without my box!"

Love & Tuna!

The Terrifying World of Blankets

I came home from work today and found Artemis cowering in a corner underneath a fleece blanket. (Around here, these are called kitty blankets. Usually they come from the remnants bin at Joann Fabrics, and are little scraps of fleece in a weird color/pattern.)

Anyway, there lay Artemis, cowering, until I pulled the blanket off of him. I can only deduce that Luna or Kyo knocked the blanket off a ledge onto Artemis, and he assumed that the end of the world had come. Poor kitty. Who knows how long he had been like this...

Artemis would prefer to experience blankets ONLY as follows:

Mommy on Couch.

Blanket on Mommy. 

Artemis on Blanket on Mommy. 

See?

Love & Tuna!

Luna and the Tuna

I've spoken about my cats and their reactions to my food before. But this is too funny not to share.

Most of the time, all three of them will leave me alone while I eat at the kitchen table, or on the couch, or wherever, really. But if I'm eating tuna, all bets are off.

Case in point, a couple of weeks ago, on a sunny Saturday morning (Not important to the story, but I'm setting a scene here, people. Patience...) I prepared a tuna and swiss sandwich for lunch, and sat down on the couch to eat it. (As long as we're setting the scene, I may as well add that my couch is brown, I was sitting on the right end of it, and I was watching Phantom of the Opera. Again. Moving right along...)

So, I sit down to eat my sandwich (lemon pepper tuna, swiss cheese, and lettuce, because those details are all clearly very important to the story), and POOF, Luna appears in my lap, trying mightily to get a bite of tuna out of my sandwich before I notice.

FAIL.

So I plop her back onto the floor, and I start eating my sandwich. And Luna, ever the optimist, and not-to-be-deterred, hops back up into my lap, and proceeds to stick her paws into my mouth. It's as if she was thinking "...well...you won't share what's on your super-flat-probably-totally-useless food dish...but I bet you'd love to share what's already partially chewed inside your mouth!"

Needless to say, I eat my tuna sandwiches in the bedroom now. With the door closed. And Luna singing the song of her people on the other side.


Love & Tuna!

Caption This: The Kyo-Lion Edition

"The voracious and inexorable Kyo-Lion, sneaks up on his unsuspecting prey. In this case, it's a salmon-flavored cat treat, and while those don't tend to give up much chase, the Kyo-Lion is not deterred. He opens his mouth to roar...but all that comes out is a teeny-tiny kitten mew. But I'm sure that the salmon-flavored cat treat was terrified. All the terrified."





This is part of a new series experiment. Here's how it works...I will post a picture, along with my caption. You leave your caption (or multiple captions!) in the comments. :) Have fun!


Love & Tuna!

Frenemies...

Frenemies - 

Noun. 

1. An enemy disguised as a friend. 
2. Kyo and Artemis

These two furballs were cuddled up in my lap like this earlier this afternoon. Not for very long, mind you...but it did happen. I have evidence!

I should point out that Artemis was here first. Kyo rarely/never will come sleep on my lap of his own volition. What he is doing in this photograph is a show of dominance. He is merely reminding Artemis that he, Kyocera the Great and Powerful, is the Alpha kitty, and master of this domicile.

Anyway, I thought this would be an excellent opportunity to discuss the relationship between Kyo and Artemis.

From Artemis' point of view, Kyo is a big, scary bully who commandeers the food dish and the large hairless cat at every opportunity.

From Kyo's point of view, Artemis is a mildly irritating obstacle that tends to occupy all the best spots in the house...the back of the sofa, the top pedestal on the cat tree, the kitchen window, and above all else - the lap of the large hairless cat.


I imagine their conversations go something like this:

Kyo: "Dude. You're in my spot."

Artemis: "But..."

Kyo: "Dude. Move. Now."

Artemis: "PLEASE DON'T EAT ME."

Kyo: "Okay, fine. I will totally and utterly ignore your white, fluffy, fraidy-cat butt, if you move it OUT OF MY SPOT."

Artemis: "Okay. We cool, bro?"

Kyo: "We cool."


Love & Tuna!

This is Why People Have Pets

To the people who have doubted me, or looked down on me, or told me I would fail:

These are my cats. This is my pride of tiny lions.

(Side note: I tried to find a picture of all three of them together, and I realized there just aren't any. Why, you ask? Because Luna and Kyo can't occupy the same space for more than 30 seconds without things getting ugly. Sigh. End side note.)

Every day, when I come home from work, they are waiting for me. And they look at me with love and adoration, probably because I am the food provider. But it is still nice.

And people will tell you that cats aren't affectionate. If your definition of affectionate is lap-snuggling, face-licking, twenty-four-hour-a-day-adoration, then no, cats aren't affectionate. (Also, you'd be describing a dog.) But they are affectionate. When they feel like it. And they usually aren't overtly affectionate. But that doesn't mean that they don't care.

Some days, I come hope utterly spent and exhausted, and there is something magical about looking up at the front window and seeing three little lions waiting for me. Somehow, hearing their little padding feet running to the front door to greet me makes up for whatever suckage the day brought.

And I know that this isn't my normal fare on this blog - I just wanted to cast this out there into the void. Thanks, Void. Thanks for listening.

Love & Tuna!

Sympathy Hacking...

TMI WARNING - Just be aware that there may be some over-sharing in this post.

A couple of years ago, I had this lingering cold that left me hacking up phlegm for weeks. So anyway, there I was, hacking phlegm into the sink for what felt like the thousandth time that day. And as I'm gagging and spitting, Luna comes up and hocks a hairball right onto my feet. Thanks, moron.

I'm sure some cat expert somewhere will tell me that this was a great show of camaraderie. Look, Mommy! I can hack up nasty junk, too!

Not cute. Mommy was not amused.

Love & Tuna!

My Bathroom Buddy

Ever since he was a kitten, Kyo has been my bathroom buddy...whether I wanted one or not. It's like he has a mystical sense of when I'm heading for the bathroom, and he will dart into the bathroom with me. And no matter how many times I open the door and try to shoo him out, he simply will not leave until I have completed my bathroom business, washed my hands, and open the door to leave.

Now, this is all well and good...sometimes.

There was one morning that I sat upon the porcelain throne, bleary eyed and half asleep (I am most decidedly not a morning person), and little Kyo put his front paws up on my knee, and waited for me to pet him. Mind you, this is a common enough occurrence, and had it not been early morning, I would have petted him and all would have been right in his little world. But I was tired. And grouchy. VERY grouchy. So I ignored him. And being that he is the Alpha and used to getting his way, he decided that he would hoist himself up onto my lap. By sinking his claws into my exposed thigh flesh. And pulling. Hard.

Little Jerk. Somehow I still love him...

The other memorable instance of Kyo the Bathroom Kitty that I can remember offhand happened late one night last year. I had been feeling under the weather all day, and at about midnight I felt the overwhelming urge to vomit. (TMI, I know. Bear with me.) So I run to the bathroom, and I really attempt to slam the door behind me, because, ya know, this is sort of the time for privacy. But, alas, Kyo was built for speed. And since I was sort of working with a time limit here, I just gave up on the privacy issue, and proceeded to throw up into the toilet. And the whole time, poor little Kyo was crawling up the back of my t-shirt, trying to nuzzle my face.

Not sure if this is cute or not...


Love & Tuna!

Bedwetting

This lovely little incident happened back when Luna was my only kitty. One night, I decided that she was just too cute to leave outside the bedroom. (The bedroom was, and still is, a no kitty zone.) I thought that perhaps I had been too hasty in declaring that no kitty could ever share my bed, so I allowed Luna in for the night. I left the bedroom door open, so that she could come and go, and have access to the litter box whenever she pleased.

At first, it was peachy. Little Luna curled up by my feet and fell asleep. Shortly afterward, I fell asleep as well.

Flash forward to 4am. I wake up, in a lovely 4am grog, and Luna is standing on top of me. As I come to, I realize that my bed is wet. And smells of pee. And it sure as heck isn't mine. That cat. With the door wide open, and all the access in the world to her litter box, she elects to pee directly on top of me.

It's as if she was saying "I hereby claim Giant Hairless Cat Mountain for my kingdom, and to make this momentous occasion, I will urinate allllllllllll over it."

Although, since we are talking about fluff-for-brains Luna, the more likely scenario is that she was saying *insert elevator music* "Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeee. I peed."

Not one cat has EVER slept in my bed since that night. Though they may claw the outside of the bedroom door and sing the song of their people well into the wee small hours of the morning, they will never be welcome in my bed.


Love & Tuna!

The Battle of the Trash Can

So, being a reasonably tidy human being, I believe that trash belongs in the trash can. At least until I can bestir my lazy butt to take it out to the big garbage cans on the porch.

My cats disagree. They believe that "trash" is really various foodstuffs and playthings, which should be distributed even throughout the house.

This, of course, leads directly to the title of this post...because it is a battle to keep the trash in the can.

I started out with your basic rectangular kitchen trash can. With no lid. Which honestly was a forlorn hope. I pretty much had to take out the trash every time I put something attractive to cats in it. Items attractive to my cats include:

• Empty plastic grocery bags
• Those creepy styrofoam trays that ground meat comes on
• Anything that previously contained chicken
• Or fish
• Empty bags of cat treats
• Anything that crinkles

Eventually, I wised up. I bought a trash can with a lid that snaps shut. Clearly, I've won this war, right? Wrong. Last week, I saw Kyo standing on top of the trash can, doing this funny little dance. It was mega cute, so I ran to get my phone to take a video of it...and by the time I got back, he had gotten the trash can lid to pop open. And I really did think that it was a coincidence, until I saw him doing the exact same dance ten minutes later. (Still didn't get it on video!) 

QED...Kyo is an evil genius. And possibly related to Fred Astaire. 

Love & Tuna!

There's Nothing Like...

There's nothing like laying on the couch with a kitty on your chest...

to make you realize just how badly you need to get up and pee.




Love & Tuna!

Cat Behavior 101

I once read an article to this effect, and I will attempt to funny it up a bit, and summarize it.

99% of all behavior can be explained by the following statement:

Cats believe that all other living organisms are cats. 

Following this line of logic, my cats (and yours, too!) think that you are a giant hairless cat. Let us explore this further with the following examples:

Action: Cat licks hand of human companion.

Human Thinks: "Awwwwwwww. So cute! This cat has shown a definite affection for me."

Cat Thinks: "Giant hairless cat...I have never seen you lick yourself...therefore you must not know how to keep yourself clean. Let me do it for you, because we can't have you stinking up the place."


Action: Cat brings "gift" (dead squirrel, bird, rabbit, mouse, etc.) to human companion.

Human Thinks: "Mega gross, murderous kitty."

Cat Thinks: "Giant hairless cat...you seem to be a terrible hunter. I generally tolerate your presence, and I don't want you dead...yet. Therefore, I have provided you with food. You may worship at my feet.


Action: Cat rubs up against the ankles of human companion, or human companion's guests.

Human Thinks: "Awwwwwwww. So cute! This cat has shown a definite affection for me." (Please note the theme here.)

Cat Thinks: "If you are going to be part of this pack, giant hairless cat, you must smell like me and only me. I shall mark you as my propurrrrty." (See what I did there. You wanted funny, and this is the best you're going to get.)


Leave your own thoughts on this phenomenon in the comments below!

Love & Tuna!

Cats...When Left Alone

I'm out of town today, so my kitties are at home fending for themselves (with plenty of food and water and clean litter, of course.)

Using my immense psychic abilities, (riiiiiight) I have attempted to record the thoughts of each kitty, on a day when their mommy isn't home.


Luna: *(Please supply your own elevator music here)* Is there any cheese? Ooh, or chicken skin buried in the trashcan?!? Wait...you mean I need THUMBS to open the treat jar? I like windows. SQUIRREL!!!!!!! Fuzzy blanket. Moo.

Artemis: NOOOOOO. My source of comfort! Until the giant hairless cat with the magical access to the food bin returns, I shall stand post at the front window, and sing the song of my people. (Insert pathetic yowling here. And yes...I may have borrowed this from zefrank on YouTube. Still funny.)

Kyo: The giant hairless cat has departed. I saw her get into the sofa-with-a-roof-and-wheels and zoom away. I shall maintain the order of my fiefdom until such time as it returns. If she does not return, and we begin to starve to death, we shall eat Luna first.


Love & Tuna!

The White Invaders

If you have been conscious on the Eastern seaboard at any point in the last 48 hours, you may know that massive amounts of snow have happened. This was the view outside my kitchen window on Thursday morning:

FYI: 4 hours later, we had a foot of snow. I measured.

Something I forgot to add to Artemis's list of fears - SNOW. How could I forget? Here's the deal. When it snows, and only when it snows, he will sit on the kitchen windowsill and yowl at the snow outside. All. Day. Long. Until it gets too dark for him to see it anymore. I have never seen him yowl at the window, except when there is snow.

I was telling Jason about this the other day, and he said that Artemis was just trying to warn me that "the white invaders had returned!" Yeah. Okay. It can be spring any day now.


Love & Tuna!

Cat Toys - An Exercise in Futility

I have cats. I love the cats. I buy them toys. All. Kinds. Of. Toys.

And they ignore them 90% of the time.

"Oh, Mommy, how kind of you to purchase us this fabulous toy. I am sure that it was VERY highly rated on Amazon.com, but honestly, I couldn't care much less."

Do they play? Of course they play. (Except Artemis. He doesn't play. He's also afraid of snow and dustbunnies. Is anyone surprised here?)

What would they prefer to play with, you ask? Excellent question. I've compiled a brief list of their preferred playthings.

• Cardboard boxes (See above...this box was a favorite for weeks, and I started calling it The Sacred Box Den)
• Dropped objects - bobby pins, crochet hooks, socks, little bits of yarn, ice cubes, etc. (I once found a crochet hook buried in the litter box. I blame Luna. Mostly because she's the dumbest. Mind you, she's the cuddliest...but also the dumbest. The Rose Nylund of kitties.)
• Feet - Any feet will do, but feet in motion are a favorite. Especially if it is 3am and I'm on the way to the bathroom in the dark. 
• Imaginary objects - I'm not even sure what to say about this. Luna is always chasing after some invisible thing. Maybe the house is haunted and she has ghost-seeing powers. Or something.

Of course...none of this stops me from buying them toys and trying. :) I am, As The Doctor aptly said, "a hoper of far-flung hopes and the dreamer of improbable dreams."

Love & Tuna!

The Food-Kitty Relationship

Bonus post for today. The other night, I was just trying to eat a bowl of cereal on the couch. And this is what happens.

Luna: "What is that? Why isn't it in my mouth? Wait...why are you putting it in your mouth?"

Kyo: "I shall hypnotize you with my demon eyes. You will put the bowl on the floor and I will devour its luscious contents."


Love & Tuna!

Meet the Clan - Kyo

Meet our tribe's Alpha Kitty. His name is Kyo. Like Tokyo, but missing the first two letters.Before we get too far, let's go to the vital stats:

Name: Kyo

AKA: The Garbage Disposal (He will eat ANYTHING. I once caught him making a valiant effort to devour a dirty sock.)

Age: I actually know this one! His approximate date of birth is February 1, 2012, so he just turned two

Weight: 10 pounds. But he's fluffy, so he looks even larger than that. 

Kyo was an impulse buy. Kind of like the Snickers bars and trashy magazines and overpriced gum you find in the checkout line at the Walmart. Except I didn't buy a Snickers bar, or a trashy magazine, or gum. I bought another cat. 

It was a Sunday afternoon and Jason and I were at a local pet supply store to buy a shedding rake. (See previous comments about Artemis in the spring.) A local shelter was camped outside the store with various unhappy-looking animals in cages. As we walked past, I spotted a tiny black, long-haired kitten. I looked at Jason and he gave me the "we're leaving with that kitten, aren't we" look. But I went about my business and bought a shedding rake. As we were leaving, I thought we should just say hello to the kitten. 

Riiiiiight, Sarah. Just say hello.

Anyway, the lady in charge told us that he wasn't very friendly, and didn't really like people. But the second she opened the cage door, he leaped into Jason's arms and started purring. 

So I took him home. 

Not the best picture, but how can you say no to that little face?

Kyo is very much the Alpha. He arrived in my home, and quickly realized that his kitty family consisted of a moron and a terrified kitty, and he had zero competition for control of the household. Lucky break, cat. 









Love & Tuna!

Meet the Clan - Artemis

There's just something about Persians. Everybody loves Persians. Except people who love black dress slacks. They tend to hate Persians. And people who like black couches. They hate Persians, too. Actually, if you have any permanent attachments to the color black, Persians are not for you. They shed.

That being said, I am willing to put up with the shedding. Except in the spring, when I come home from work to find tumbleweeds of white fur all over my floor. And the couch. And the cat tree. And the other cats. Then I seriously consider taking the vaccuum to Artemis.

Speaking of which...let's go to the vital stats.

Name: Artemis

AKA: Artemeces, King of the Fraidy Cats

Age: Unknown...Again...the vet always casts sideways glances at me when they ask me questions about this cat. Pretty much all I know is that he's white. And male. And Persian. 

Weight: 8 pounds

Artemis came to me almost by accident. Sort of a friend of a friend situation. But he was white and beautiful, and I had to have him. 

Here's the thing about Artemis; he is literally afraid of everything. And I don't mean a Charlie-Brown-pantophobia type of deal. I mean that he is 100% terrified of everything. Kind of like Adrian Monk. But small and furry and white. For the entertainment value, I've compiled a partial list of Artemis's greatest fears. Hang in there...this is somewhat extensive. In no particular order:

• Milk
• Cats who aren't white
• Cats who are white
• Cats
• Dogs barking on TV commercials
• Ceiling fans
• Carpet
• People standing up
• People sitting on furniture
• People who aren't me. Or Jason.
• Sneezing
• Loud noises
• Imaginary noises
• Teddy bears
• Boxes
• Blankets
• Running water
• Being touched by anything he can't actively see
• Shoes, unless they have been recently worn by Jason.
• Long, cylindrical objects (brooms, mops, gift wrap rolls, etc.)
• Unfamiliar foods
• Lights turning on
• Lights turning off. 

I do know that there were toddlers present in Artemis's previous home. So whether or not it was intentional, I assume he was abused in some way. Which would explain his paranoid behavior. 

Tune in tomorrow for the conclusion of our introductions...Kyo!

Love & Tuna!

Meet the Clan - Luna

Luna was my very first kitty. I always wanted a cat as a kid, but my parents were allergic. So, I graduated from college, I packed up, I moved 200 miles away, and I got a cat. Actually...more like inherited a cat. But first, the vital stats.

Name: Luna

AKA: Lunabell

Age: Not really sure...somewhere in the neighborhood of 5 years. Secretly, all vets think I'm stupid, because I have no idea how old this cat is, or why she is so tiny. (More on that in a second). 

Weight: 4 pounds. Yes, you read this correctly.


Okay, on with the story of Luna.

My boyfriend's mother is a great lover of felines. All manner of felines. Several years ago, I came up to visit, and there were no less than 20 cats living on the front porch, and she fed them whatever kitchen scraps she happened to have. Most of these cats were completely 100% feral, and not interested in humans other than as a source of food. But there was one tiny little black cat, who would rub the ankles of anyone who walked by and purr. So I took her. And I named her Luna.

I love this cat. She was my sidekick during a really tough period of my life. [Side note: this blog is not about me. Not really. It's about the cats. They are far more entertaining.] Luna is snuggly and sweet...and a total, complete airhead. Often I look at her, and I can just hear the elevator music in her head. (More on this in future posts. Stay tuned.)

I attribute her lack of IQ to the copious amounts of inbreeding in her genetic lineage. And the fact that she grew up on a porch, eating random food. This also explains her passionate and unending love of cheese. That cat would walk across a pit of hungry piranhas for a crumb of cheese.


For now, we will leave it at back. Tomorrow...the story of Artemis.

Love & Tuna!

Introduction and Hello

Hello, Cosmic Void. This is me. Shouting into your vast emptiness. About cats.

Obviously, the internet is already swarming with stories about cats, videos of cats, pictures of cats, etc. But I'm a storyteller (so I've been told) and I have funny cat stories to tell. So, Internet, come along for the ride. I'll be here shouting.