Num, num ... Barbecued pork!

At about 6:00 PM, Fudgie started acting weird ... He was head-butting the front door and meowing as loudly as his geriatric voice can meow. Knowing his reluctance to expend any kind of energy for no visible reason, I stood beside him and tried to figure out the method to his madness. Lo and behold! Mom pulled into the driveway and she had a bag with a take-out container from the Chinese place! Fudgie had smelled the bbq pork as it was coming up the street in Mom's car. He's just AMAZING!

Mom buys some take-out for herself, but always gets a third item in her combo for Fudgie. He LOVES the bbq pork. Mom tortures us by cleaning out the litter boxes, re-filling the water and food dishes, listening to the phone messages, and opening windows. When she finally settles down with a knife and the cutting board, Fudgie is nearly beside himself with anticipation. She chops up his pork putting two-thirds of it into the freezer for his daily "snack" ... He yowls and howls from his spot beside her dining room chair until she starts hand feeding him. He has very few teeth, but he always manages to bite her fingers at least once. Mom even gives Lucky Charmz and me some of the pork, but Fudgie doesn't really like to share. Tonight, we got lots, but Fudgie got enough to fill him up.

I suppose Fudgie would like it if I gave a shout-out to his favorite restaurant: CJ Oriental Express. Fudgie is their number one fan!

DaisyMae Maus

Delicious Hummingbirds

Every afternoon I watch them.
Visual catnip ...
Oh, tiny morsels!
Fluttering wings;
Colorful sky dancers
Flitting flower-to-flower,
And feeder to feeder.
Long, pointy beaks
Slurping sugary nectar.
Hovering weightlessly;
Just out of reach.
One quick swipe and
I make you mine!
Not enough for a meal,
But definitely an appetizer!

The big K!

In case you haven't noticed, our hit counter has nearly hit the 1,000 mark! In honor of this personal milestone, I'm officially celebrating the "Big K" ... and no, I don't mean K-Mart. Given I'd never imagined getting 100 hits, reaching the thousandth seems super special to me.

I'd like to give a shout out to my feline peeps and thank all of you for visiting my blog. I'd especially like to thank regulars like Abby and Cocoa who leave fun (and funny) comments on my postings. Cool cats like you make blogging worthwhile.

Smooches to my loyal readers and thanks to the lurkers who stop by regularly, too. Please leave a comment (or ten).

DaisyMae Maus and the Feline Americans

Yea! Mom's back from Seattle!

Can you believe that Mom left us for a whole weekend? Us either! On Friday, Mom went bolting out the door without so much as a by-your-leave and headed for the airport (she was pretty stressed because she hadn't flown since she was eighteen days old). She flew to Seattle to attend her cousin's 90th birthday party, visit aunts/uncles/cousins and others, and to check up on our grandparents midway through their vacation.

Mom's colleague was our catsitter and she did a very good job of feeding us and policing our litter boxes (Thanks, Mimi!).

When she got back after midnight this morning (her flight was delayed), we greeted her with purrs and head-butts. Boy, we sure did miss her. Sparky couldn't stop licking her after she showered and filled our food and water dishes. Frankly, I'm glad that she showered. Planes STINK ... even the first class cabin.

It's just not the same when Mom's not around. She makes a very comfortable sleeping spot. I hope that she goes to bed early tonight because she looked pretty tired out (Can you believe that she went to work today? Me either!!)

Anyway, we're glad to have her home, but we are a little upset that her carry-on bag didn't have any salmon for us (even through she brought back some for people who took care of us and watched the house). Hrrmmph ... It hardly seems fair. The grandparents better not forget ...

Oh, yeah ... I can't forget a big HAPPY GOTCHA-DAY to Cocoa Puff. Puffy is nine years old today.

DaisyMae Maus

DaisyMae's "Word of the Day": BUNNY CHEEKS

Here's another informative vocabulary lesson to build your FELINE LEXICON ...

From DaisyMae's Feline Dictionary of Terms and Phrases, the phrase of the day is:

BUNNY CHEEKS (noun) ... buh-knee cheekz ... Not intended as an insult to rabbits! The fuzzy posterior of a feline directly below the tail. Present in a matching pair. Often ticklish or otherwise sensitive. Also referred to as "buns bunnies" or "bunnies."

singular: bunny CHEEK

Sentence examples:
1. DaisyMae Maus needed to quickly move her bunny cheeks out of the way of the vacuum cleaner.
2. During Sparky Fuzzypant's twice-daily tongue bath, he carefully cleaned his bunny cheeks.

On a sad note ...

We just found out that our fifteen-year-old cousin, Knuckles, went to the Rainbow Bridge last Thursday (August 17th). We wish her good luck and godspeed. Save us a warm, sunny spot on the grass ... Keep a look out for the rest of the gang. They're waiting to welcome you!

Sorry, Puffy ...

Well, Puffy was offended that I published intimate details of his litter box stink-fests, so he insisted (okay, threatened me with bodily harm, if I didn't) that I post a flattering photo of him as an apology for blasting him in my blog. So, here's the most flattering photo that I could find of Cocoa Puff ... He's here in all his glory. Exposed to the world for what he is ... A "large and in-charge" Siamese without the mutated Siamese "points" gene. Check out his "buttons" ... Hee, hee.

Fine! I'll publish your darn photos! Good grief!

Lucky Charmz insisted that I publish his latest photos. This is Charmee perched in his favorite spot ... High above the kitchen counter on the "Charmz Catwalk." He claims to be very cute ... I just find him annoying.

Have you tried ... ?

Not that I'm a shill for corporate America's multi-billion dollar pet industry, but I'd like to give a little shout-out for a really great product that has made my litter box smell a whole lot better (and has kept Mom from throwing up after cleaning up after that big stink-o, Cocoa Puff). I LOVE Purina Tidy Cats Litter Box Deodorizer for Multiple Cats. Mom bought two cans yesterday after running out of the PetCo brand and some purple stuff from Hartz and some other stuff from Arm and Hammer ... She even tried some pricy turquoise stuff from a mail order company to get rid of Puffy's stink. Anyway, this Tidy Cats stuff smells like herbal/pine scent. It's pretty nice. Charmee is so into it that he was rolling in the litter box like he did when he was tiny. I have to say that the different kinds of stuff that Mom was using didn't even do a very good job masking stinky odors. This new stuff kind of overpowers the odors and vaporizes them. Much improvement.



If your box is a little more "funky" than "Funk-A," perhaps you should request that your human pet purchase some litter box deodorizer for you on his/her next trip to Target or PetSmart or Petco. I think that Mom said that she bought it at PetSmart and it was pretty cheap (with the Perks card).

Well, it's time to beg for my nightly can of stinky Sheba ... That's the kind of STINK that I like.

DaisyMae Maus

DaisyMae's "Word of the Day": FLAB SKIRT

For your edification, here's another informative vocabulary lesson to build your FELINE LEXICON ...

From DaisyMae's Feline Dictionary of Terms and Phrases, the phrase of the day is:

FLAB SKIRT (noun) ... flab skurt ... An inverted crescent-shaped flap of jiggling, furry skin dangling from the abdominal area directly beneath the belly-button and found almost exclusively on neutered male felines. Also referred to as a "flab kilt" or a "bodacious grab of jiggly flab."

plural: flab skirts

Sentence examples:
1. Cocoa Puff's flab skirt wobbled excessively as he jogged toward the food dish.
2. Pumpkin purred seductively when Mom tickled him on the flab skirt.

This is yet ANOTHER reason that I'm proud to be a GIRL!

DaisyMae Maus

Skuzzy fish tank

Our fish tank was looking pretty skuzzy, so we helped Mom to clean it out and change the black sand to green rocks. First, Mom unplugged everything while I sat on the kitchen table and supervised. Charmee wanted to help (he isn't called "Audience Participation Charmz" for nothing). He helped by spilling water. Then, he sat beside Mom while she tried to capture the fish with an itty bitty net. I offered to fish them out for her (with minimal tasting), but she said that she'd pass ... Her exact words were "No, no! Bad cat!"

When Mom started removing the fish from the tank and putting them into a pitcher of clean water, Charmee tried to spill the fish into the sink. Mom caught him just in time or the fish tank would be empty and Charmee would be full of tropical fish. Mom's really tired because the fish tank cleaning took nearly three hours. Our tank is nice and clean now. We can see our fish very clearly and they look bright against the pretty green rock.

Thanks Mom!
DaisyMae Maus

And they're off ...

Grandma and grandpa stopped by this morning to give us pets and smooches before leaving on their month-long vacation to the Pacific Northwest. We asked to go along for the ride, but grandma reminded me of my peeing all over the SUV the last time they tried to put me in a vehicle. Yep. Bad idea. Grandpa promised to bring us a smoked salmon or some smoked oysters from Seattle. They are visiting all of the places that they've told us about ... Solvang, US Highway 101, Salem and Portland (OR), Gray's Harbor (where Mom was born), Seattle, Olympia, Tacoma, Spokane, and points to the east ... Maybe they'll even go to Idaho and Canada. Mmmmm ... fishies. Grandpa has told us that the "real thing" is much, much better than Sheba. We'll believe it when we taste it. I told him that talk was cheap and that he should produce some proof. We decided that if he didn't bring a smoked salmon or some rainbow trout, we'd settle for an orca or two. Grandpa said that those were "mammals" like us and not for eating. We'll see ...

Until then, we'd like to wish our human grandparents a wonderful (restful) vacation and a safe journey until we see them again ... A Feline American blessing to the travelers: "May your eyes be bright; tails erect; and noses pointed into the wind."

DaisyMae Maus

DaisyMae's "Word of the Day": BUN-KISS

From DaisyMae's Feline Dictionary of Terms and Phrases, the word of the day is:

BUN-KISS (noun) ... bun kis ... 1. a small, rounded stain on a horizontal surface such as a counter or windowsill and made by the center orafice of the two fleshy, fur covered protuberances located immediately below the tail after one has failed to ensure proper feline hygeine; 2. a feline (or other species) who behaves as if s/he is stupid, unsophisticated, and/or rude (aka "a big meanie").

plural: bun-kisses

Sentence examples:
1. Sparky Fuzzypants left an unintended bun-kiss on the linoleum after using the litterbox.
2. Lucky Charmz was being a bun-kiss: He stole Fudgie's snack, dumped the fuzzy mouse into the water dish, and spilled Mom's ice water all over the end table.

I had "crabs" ...

I have five words for all of you felines out in the blogosphere ...

Sheba Alaskan King Crab ... ROCKS!

The Feline Americans and I just split a can, and I have nothing but praise for the stench under the bright red label. My breath reeks (Mom told me) which makes the whole experience all the more enjoyable for me.

Nighty-night!

DaisyMae Maus

Oooo, oooo, ooooh ... The Feline Americans and I just got tagged!!

We've been tagged by ABBY!

Here's the rules: The player of this game starts with "5 weird things/habits about yourself ". In the end you need to choose 5 people to be tagged and list their names. The people who get tagged need to write a blog about their 5 weird things/habits, as well as state this rule clearly, then tag 5 more victims. Don't forget to leave your victim a comment that says "you're tagged!" in their comments and tell them to read your blog.

Even though we got tagged as a "group," I'm the most important, so it's ALL ABOUT ME!

1. DaisyMae Maus likes to eat cereal even though the non-fat milk makes her barf.

2. DaisyMae Maus's tail is only ten inches long.

3. DaisyMae Maus "cat fights" like a Rock 'Em, Sock 'Em robot.

4. DaisyMae Maus likes to munch on the artificial Christmas tree and knock the ornaments off the branches.

5. DaisyMae Maus likes to lay on the vents when the a/c is on.


OK, now it's MY turn to tag some of my feline friends ...

1.Chatham

2. Zeus of The Zeus Excuse

3, 4 & 5 Brendan, Harper and Miss Ramona of Caturday

Pondering: Mandibles of Doom!!!

Just this morning, I was admiring my blog-shot because Mom had mentioned that it looked like a school photo. "What grade?" I wondered ... Mom thinks that it looks kinda like the first or second grade because I still have all of my teeth, but I digress ...

Anyway, I was noticing that my "mandibles of doom" look pretty sexy against my sleek black fur and I was feeling pretty good about myself until Mom mentioned that I better not try to fit into any small places because my whiskers are looking slightly narrower than my butt. What a thing to say!!! After I finished being mortified, I tried to think of a zingy retort about Mom needing a "wide load" sign for her own buns of cinnamon. I carefully backed the bus up (beep, beep, beep) and examined the junk that comprises my trunk. Whoa. THAT'S wear all of the snacks are relocating. I'm looking a little "J. Lo" and black fur isn't as slimming as the fashonistas claim. Why couldn't the excess "me" be shuttled to my hoots? Afterall, what kind of damage would that do to my figure since I've got eight of the darn things and they haven't been all that multi-functional of late?

So, I got to thinking and the thinking led to an examination and comparision between the Feline Americans. Who has the longest whiskers? Well, Sparky Fuzzypants has got some W-I-D-E whiskers. I thought at first that his narrow muzzle just gave the illusion of long whiskers, but on closer inspection, I had to say: "DAMN! Those are some enviable whiskers!" I got a little worried because I had read about the number of whiskers being a good indicator of feline intellect (and you know as well as I do that Sparky isn't a member of the brain trust ... unlike yours truly).

Pumpkin is a really muscular guy with narrow hips ... His whiskers seem size appropriate and I don't think that I'd worry much if he tried to stuff himself somewhere small and confining, because he'd assuredly have enough room if he used the width of his whiskers as a guideline. Pumpkin prefers under the bed anyway and since it's king-size, he's got a lot of wiggle room.

Fudge Ripple and Lucky Charmz have smaller whisker widths ... I'm not worrying about Fudgie getting stuck because the boy is geriatrically slim and too darn smart to put himself somewhere he can't get out. Lucky Charmz, however, is another story. He keeps breaking his whiskers off. Pretty soon the boy is going to be facially bald. Hopefully they'll grow back thick and lustrous ... Or he is gonna try to fit somewhere and won't have any size indicators for easy reference. I'll try to tempt him behind the sofa or somewhere tight ... Bwahh, hahhh, hahhh ...

My big worry is that Cocoa Puff (aka Puffy Stuff) will get his wide self stuck when Mom's not around to rescue him. Puffy's butt kept growing and growing, but obviously wasn't on speaking terms with his whiskers. Puffy's "mandibles of doom" stopped growing when he still weighed twelve pounds ... That was about eighteen pounds ago. Puffy has gotten stuck behind the sofa and in the closet (don't get me started here), but the funniest place was in the bedroom door's catdoor. He was half in the bedroom and half in the hallway. Sad, sad, sad ... I wanted to help him, but I was laughing so hard that it felt like I was hyperventilating. Puffy still hasn't really forgiven me for teasing him about the "catdoor with the Cocoa Puff center". I can run, but I can't hide, right? At least I can climb, Puffy! Eat your heart out!

All of this blogging is making me sleepy ... Until later. This has been DaisyMae Maus pondering one of feline life's great mysteries.

Mom's Cativersary

Mom told me a story a long time ago about the first cats to share her life. Back on August 5, 1988, Mom found a mama kitty and her three kittens hiding in the raspberry bushes in the backyard. At the time, Mom was living with a Cock-a-poo named Peaches who was Mom's childhood pet. Peaches was about seventeen years old at the time and had shared nearly every aspect of Mom's upbringing. When Mom invited the cat and her kittens into the household, it was with trepidation. She shouldn't have worried ... the dog was thrilled and took to herding the kittens and guarding the banana box where they slept. Mom named the mama kitty "Meemaw" and the three kittens (two males and a female) were "Percy", "Cookie Monster", and "Lacey Bunns". The dog and cats got along famously with the dog teaching the kittens the finer points of begging at the dinner table, playing chase, and tolerating baths. Peaches made a superb nanny and playmate.

Peaches arrived at the Rainbow Bridge in March of 1989. Lacey Bunns (December 1995), Cookie Monster (April 1996), Meemaw (September 2002), and Percy (July 2005) joined her. Mom said that her early experiences opened her heart to rescuing the neighborhood strays (myself included). Over the years, Mom welcomed Toby (November 1996), Dolly Pop (September 2000), and Huckleberry Finn (May 2004) in addition to the Feline Americans and me.

The Feline Americans and I owe a debt of gratitude to Peaches and the "Four Founding Felines" who paved our way with Mom.

Happy Eighteenth Cativersary, Mom!

DaisyMae Maus

Join us in a moment to remember our great-grandma ...

Mom and grandma were a little subdued today because August 4, 2006 would have been our great-grandma's 83rd birthday. We're gonna take a moment to remember a great lady and a champion of cats everywhere (but especially in the Pacific Northwest). Del: Even though we never got to meet you in person, your presence is felt everyday. You're sorely missed. We hope to see you at the Rainbow Bridge one day. Watch for us.
DaisyMae Maus

Nubs ...

Uh, the indignities I have to suffer for beauty! Mom was home early today (after yesterday's fifteen plus hours at the job), so the Feline Americans and I got pedicures. Mom uses these tiny snapping clippers to trim our claws as close to the quick as she can manage. She thinks that it makes it less horrifying if she calls it "clippy claws," but let's call a spade a spade, huh? She's lopping off all eighteen of our finely honed digital pokers! Mine took me two weeks to grow and sharpen on the Alpine Scratcher! She doesn't see me slaving away on the corrugated cardboard day in and day out.

I understand that she HAD to do Cocoa Puff's because he'd gotten himself caught up on the back of the recliner (BAD cat! Use your scratcher!!!), but the rest of us were just minding our own business. In our defense, we did try to preserve our claws by evading Mom. Cocoa Puff was caught easily ... He's so big and slow that he's an easy target. His yowling alerted the rest of us, so we had a little time to find "hiding" places. Sparky Fuzzypants (he of the room-temperature-with-the-a/c-on IQ) "hid" in the middle of the kitchen. Duh! He got his claws trimmed second. He did try to wiggle away from Mom, but she held fast. Fudge Ripple, that little suck-up, held still and even got combed. He'll do anything if he thinks that it'll lead to something edible.

I was hiding on Mom's bed. I don't know how she found my black-and-white self on her red quilt. It will remain a mystery of animal camouflage ... How does she do it??

Mom saved Lucky Charmz for almost last because he typically covers her with his white fur (and it makes her sneeze). He was above the cabinets in the kitchen, so Mom climbed up on the counter and jabbed at him with the kitchen tongs to get him to stand up for the easy grab. He wanted some reciprocity for losing his claws, so he puckered up and Mom gave him a little kiss (SUCKER! Mom quickly discovered that Charmee's breath smelled like butt ... Yuck! That'll teach her, right? Nope, probably not.)

Pumpkin, the king of under-the-bed was last because rousting him requires moving of boxes, a flashlight, and sometimes more than two hands!). Pumpkin had some seriously long claws ... I think that he missed his "appointment" with Mom two weeks ago, so he had more growth with which to dig into the carpeting under the bed.

Ugh ... What's that whining noise?? Crap. Shadow's here ... the dipstick K-9 cousin. Gotta hide ...

Happy weekend, Efurrybody!
DaisyMae Maus

Wonk Removed! Peepers stunningly golden once more!

My wonky eye is all better. Mom put me in a headlock (with much protesting on my part). My squealing and hissing attracted an audience of interested Feline Americans ... You'd think that those guys would try to gang up on Mom to free me, but ... NO. After all, there are FIVE of them and they could overpower her, right? What weenies!!! They make me sick! Those useless panty-waists sat at Mom's feet and watched as Mom wiped my eye and put drops in BOTH of them. I did exact a little revenge by sneezing drops in Mom's face, but she held fast and dosed me again with something she calls "tears" ... I'll show her tears!! Anyway, the wonk is gone and I can see clearly today. Apparently, I had been cleaning my face too thoroughly and managed to get a piece of fur from my mitt in my eye. That'll teach me to be fastidious, huh? I hate wonk.

Mom came home happy today. The air conditioner at her job is now fixed. She won't be coming home all melty and exhausted ... just the usual exhausted. I think that I may be able to persuade her to come home earlier now ... Thanks for the suggestions. "Pooping on the pillow" will just make Mom upset. She has a hard enough time with the litterboxes and our Sheba. Some mornings, she has to clean the boxes while wearing a bandana over her face. Do we stink that much?? I know that Cocoa Puff does because ... whewwww ... that big boy eats vast amounts of kibbles (I've secretly nicknamed him "Bowels of Hell" ... Don't tell him, okay??) Anyway, the added stench would just make Mom ill. I'll have to come up with a more socially acceptable way. Keep your thinking caps on ...

DaisyMae Maus

Welcome August! I think ...

Finally, the plumbers and repairmen are gone. Some of you have asked about the "toolbelt/butt-crack" element. Thankfully our service professionals have not worn low-rise workpants. Charmee is an "audience participation" kind of guy who will stick his nose down the backs of pants if given the opportunity. The last guy who showed some bun-cleavage got some whisker tickling from Charmee. You should have heard the guy shriek ... He sounded like the daycare kids next door. You've got to hand it to Charmee ... He's sneaky.

The guy today who was repairing drywall (the holes that the plumbers knocked in the walls to replace a houseful of pvc plumbing with copper pipes) didn't even realize that we were in the house. He got down on his knees to fix a hole behind the guest bathroom toilet and Charmee ran right up his back and sat on his shoulder. I was watching from the bed across the hallway. Boy, this guy was startled and said something that sounded like "Dios mio!" (... I don't speak Spanish, but I sure do love carne asada and carnitas). I had to keep my snickering to a minimum ... When he looked my way, I pretended to be cleaning my hind leg.

The temperature hasn't gone down much and we had the windows open (grandma and grandpa were here while Mom was at work earning what she calls "the little bucks"). She works nearly twelve hour days and comes home exhausted. It will be better when she gets the kids into a firm routine and can come home at a more reasonable time. By the way, she says that I cannot blog on Thursday (sorry, regular readers) because she's got a fifteen hour day at work. At least she gets to come home EARLY on Friday ... I just have to convince her to leave the work at work. Any suggestions that might be convincing to Mom? I've tried begging, kneading her lap, meowing pitifully (kind of degrading), and gacking hairballs in her shoes. Perhaps the Feline Americans and I can stage a protest of some sort. Mom hasn't taken a sick day in more than five years, but leaving at a reasonable time should be workable for a cat with my obvious persuasive capabilities, right?

To cap everything, I've got a wonky eye today. I hate wonk ...

DaisyMae Maus