Missy mouser

After watching my own cat play with her toy mouse -- and that's another story entirely -- I remembered something that happened on Christmas Day at my grandma's house in New Mexico.

Grandma's cat Missy had been staying at a relative's house while the rest of us celebrated Christmas Eve. When she was brought back home the next day, she was settling into her familiar digs, but something was amiss.

A cousin had heard rattling in the corner where Grandma's recliner is. She didn't say anything; don't want to scare Grandma. As a good number of us gathered in the kitchen to watch Grandma cook, which truly is a sight to behold, we heard a shriek: "Omigod, omigod!"

Then coming toward us is Missy the cat, proudly displaying her fresh catch, which still was wriggling to get free from her grip. The mouse wasn't very big, but it was big enough to give some of us a fright.

My hubby grabbed the cat, another cousin snatched a plastic bag to transport the mouse outside. I'm still not sure if our grandma found out what the hubbub was about.

Not until later after the commotion dissipated did we realize where Missy was taking her kill -- straight to her beloved owner.

And here's Missy the mouser (who resembles my big girl cat Booty).

Ch-ch-ch-changes

The cats are realizing they're now moving down on the totem pole.

But it's fun to see their new behaviors. Gabby has been great, inquisitive and getting on my nerves just a little. She jumped in B.'s crib the first night and hasn't tried it again.

Booty, meanwhile, is standing guard at our bedroom door. I'm very proud she has become the guard cat.

Just now, they both walked up and smelled his head, quietly walking away as not to disturb his little nap. I hope they keep up their good behavior!

What a wussy

This commercial used to make me cry every time I saw it. That was in my first trimester.

Oddly enough, I haven't seen it much since then. It just came back into the rotation recently, and the first time I saw it again last week, I just started laughing uncontrollably at what a big sap I was, crying at the drop of a hat!

Now I just think it's cute (and wish I had a surfer bod like that)!

THE SEEN
The cat I spoke about in my most recent post was prowling the wildflowers again last night! I wonder if we shall meet again tonight.

On the prowl

Almost home last night and on auto pilot, I saw this cute little cat prowling the wildflowers along the frontage road. It was black and white and fluffy. It had a an adorable looking face, and ambled along almost as if it was a little bit clumsy, juvenile. But was it really just a cute cat, or was it perhaps on the prowl for a late-night snack?

I imagine my little cat Gabby would do well on her own should she ever break loose, she seems to have such good instincts, but could she hunt for her own meals? Was that what this cat was doing? Maybe it spotted a rabbit, a mouse, a tiny prairie dog. Maybe it was having a whimsically fun time batting around the big, yellow blooms or chasing an insect. Was it a wild cat, or was it someone's cuddly lap partner?

If it's the latter, I hope that little bugger made it back home safely.

No she di'int

No longer than 30 seconds after I had inspected C.'s new hybrid golf club - he says it probably will replace his 3- or 4-iron - and he set it back down, our cat Gabby did this.



I was sitting in this very space in our loft, at the computer, and the camera happened to be nearby. She was pawing at the shaft, trying to touch the grip and sniffing the club cover. Just as I wanted to snap one of these cute little curious poses, she chomped down on the graphite shaft. *Click* I couldn't have timed it better. For all you guys out there, I didn't *let* her gnaw on it, I screamed at her and she ran away, and then I ran in the other room to show C. Lest you worry, there are two or three tiny teeth marks (nicks) on the shaft, but nothing to be alarmed about.

But does anyone notice the squeaky, orange chicken toy sitting nearby? She doesn't play with that!

Gabby rules

Either that's her slogan, or she makes up her own "rules" along the way, my youngest cat is just rotten to the core. But I love 'er!

Goofing around the other day, she looked so playful standing next to the little "fun fur" mouse I crocheted for her.


Then with a flick of her tail -- it has a mind of it's own, you know -- she let out a gurgly, chirpy meow and dashed under the bed. If this is her idea of hiding, she had better rethink it. Every time I see this (and she does it often), I tap on her tail with my toe. She doesn't like that.