a total wtw? weekend

skidding to a stop in the wondrous white stuffsWow. that was crazy.  First the full moon. Then the white stuffs all over the lawn.  Dandruff, maybe? From the moon? I was really not sure.  There was NONE of this last year, but I was only still a kitten then and so may have been busy with other things, climbing the curtains and other kitteh parkour moves.

Anyway, I was full of Snow Leopard NRG and Crazy Pants Potential,  so I keep everyone pretty busy.

frolicsnow prancing

Sadly, there was actually nothing under this layer of Icy Moon-Dander, but I was determined to make sure.  Moles could easily hid there, of course.  And nothing would make for a yummier winter’s day treat like a Molesicle or two…but still, I came up empty-pawed.  However, my Snowy Prancing did get the attention of the Yaptastic Neighbor Dog.  See if you can find him in the picture.  Sadly, we could not get a shot of him doing back flips and threatening to kill me in that squeaky little bark of his, but trust me.frolic and dog torture. all in a day's work.  He was.

My Humans have always predicted that one day my antics would make his head pop off.  That afternoon, we came perilously close.

(For the record, I maintain that I have, successfully, popped his fluffy head off, at least once or twice, cuz why else would they re-attach it with that cone he sometimes wears, but Mrs. Whatsername says “no. not yet.  keep trying.”)  


BUT THEN, it was my turn for head popping, as look at who showed up, uninvited, for dinner?  rude dinner guestsMy horrid brother, Taffy.  Appalling, right? Seriously people.  WHO forgot to change the locks after he left?  These humans are always slacking on the most mundane household chores.  So it was up to me to take charge. Look at the size of my tail.  Look at my Evil Eyes.  Quickly, for him, Taffeta got the message and spent the evening hiding in a closet, like a baby.  Today, I am relieved to say that the closet smells Taffy-free, but I am guarding the door just to make sure.  If he thinks he’s going to muzzle in on my bowl, he better start pulling his weight.  Like  maybe he could do a few sessions with the Yaptastic Neighbor Dog.  That would be helpful.  Bring me the head of Yappy, on a silver platter, and we’ll talk, my Brother.  Until then, back off. 


ISO – girl cat. fussy and sane kittehs need not apply.

taffy arranges flowers

Kittehs! We interrupt our story-telling and mystery-solving and mole-munching activities to ask for a favor from the vast cat-blogging empire.  From teh Ladies, ackshully.  Girlcats, can someone do me a solid and help out my brofur? he needs a girl friend. bad.

those of you who have been reading my blog for a while may remember my brofur Taffy, the one who mysteriously distapeered and upset eva one wif months o’ worry and grief, then just moseyed back home, la-dee-dah, wif no answers or excuses.  

Taffy drives the Park Florist delivery van.

now i KNOW i has not painted the best picture of this layabout cat or his overall butt-headed demeanor, but he DOES have a job.  he works at teh florist.

he guards teh store at night from mice who love to chew into boxes of chawklate.  he drives in teh delivery truck. he (re)arranges flowers. i get the impression that flowers and chawklate are somehow romantic to humans, so maybe he knows sumthin about teh mysteries o’ love.  you can’t say that about teh average mancat today.

taffy and his boutonnierehe has a milk moustache, which is cute, right? and he lets teh ladies at the shop humiliate him wif ribbons and kitteh boutonnieres and nonsense like that,so i am finking he has potential to be putty in teh paw of a good lady cat. mr. fancy pants

 also, despite his tough guy ‘tude, he really is needy.  he climbs in evaone’s lap at teh computer and slobbers and starts sucking on shirt sleeves.  Cod help the human wearin’ a fleece jacket – he’s all over that like a big baby kitten.  

so, if there is a kinda desperate girlcat out there wif no common sense and possibly not so good vision and a tolerance for bitey’s and slobber, please leave a message below.  starting off slow wif a bit of email courtship may be just teh fing he needs.  he just don know it yet.  


taffy standing by to take yer calls

Well. What do you know…

my rascally brother, after three months of high-tailed adventure and mystery

Hmmmmm…I’m not quite sure what to say, here. Here is both a mystery AND an adventure – and I had nothing to do with either of them. That doesn’t happen very often.

It’s weird, I know, but my BROTHER HAS BEEN FOUND!!! My brother Taffy disappeared last April.  Where he went, how he got there and what he did that whole time are still mysteries.  Mysteries that we may never figure out because, sadly, his many adventures have not changed his overall obnoxious personality. Taffy isn’t talking.

This is not the first time Taffy has gone missing from my life.  It is hard to remember so far back, but I’m pretty sure he was with us at the very beginning, when we began our lives as adventure cats by escaping from the horrid box of holes.


After that, we did a lot of investigations together, especially of the Ugly Kitten   who was never grew to appreciate Taffy’s idea of “play time.”  Neither did Smokey, because all he ever wanted to do was pounce on her and bitebitebitebite her head.  She used to end up drenched in spit. It was a little tiresome.  Then one day, when we hiding from him in the bookshelf, we realized, Taff just wasn’t there any more.

Right away, we started investigating.  I thought it would be helpful to look for him in the tree, but Smokes did that weird thing where she listens to the humans, to see what they knew.  And she learned a lot. Some amazing things, ackshully.  Like she learned that Taffy had not only a new family who loved him, but also a JOB.  He worked at a flower shop. 

He helped with arrangements,


and drove a delivery van.   

He pulled flowers from arrangements that he didn’t like.  He knocked over vases that were past their prime.  At Christmas, he climbed tree in the front window, ate a few ornaments, attacked the light up reindeer and peed on the artificial snow.  Customers loved him.  He had become a success and wasn’t coming home anytime soon. We were kinda impressed. The Ugly Kitten was relieved.

Every day, he would finish his nap in the store window at precisely 5:30 pm, then jump on the work table and swish his tail, which was his way of saying “clean up!  it’s time to go! Let’s MoveMoveMove!”  That day, when he didn’t give the closing time orders, evabuddy immediately suspected foul play. 

The humans searched and searched.  They put up fliers and called the Humane Society.  Nothing.  They cried and figured it was time to give up but then one day, three months later, a man called to say that a bossy, bitey orange cat had been coming to his back door, every night at midnight, demanding to be fed.  He said there were lots of cats in his neighborhood, 5 MILES AWAY, but this cat had on a collar with a phone number. That’s how they found him.  

Actually, it took his Humans three trips to bring him home.   Like I keep telling you, Taffy is kind of a butthead. He didn’t want to come home. Seems like he had become a Boss of a bunch of Alley Cats; a job, clearly, he was born to do. Or maybe he just was sick of flowers or dealing with the traffic, or some kind of mid-life kitty crisis.  I don’t know.  He won’t talk.  Anyway, he’s back, for now, and everyone seems to think things have returned to normal.

Me, I’m not so sure.  I have a few questions for my Brother, the Butthead.  Where did he go? Did he see Smokey anywhere?  Was he keeping her trapped in that Alley so he could bite her head some more? Where did he go and why didn’t he take me?  I won’t rest until I have some answers.