New Cat Scratcher … Sir?

On my way home tonight I stopped into PetSmart to see if I could find a cat scratcher that wasn’t ridiculously expensive, something I wasn’t all that confident in accomplishing. Though I have managed to trim them on occasion, it’s not the easiest of endeavors to convince Bella to let me clip her nails and they are getting a little long again as she’s clicking on the hardwood now like she’s taken up tap dancing and rehearsing a new number so I thought a new scratcher would at least help her with some nail maintenance. I know she wants another one, a stand-up model (I do have a nice large well used wood framed one with cat scratch cardboard inside that sits flat on the floor but it’s not quite the same) as she keeps trying to also use this old one and well, a couple of short naked two by fours nailed together with a carpet top don’t really do the trick. It’s also Bella’s way I think, with the repeated attempts, to say “yo, knucklehead, human, can ya see what I’m tryin’ to do here on a couple of short naked two by fours nailed together with a carpet top?! Are ya catchin’ my fruitless cat scratchin’ drift here … numbnuts?!”

She’s right, as you can see it doesn’t really have any cat scratchedyness to it anymore as almost all the rope is gone or fallen to the bottom like scratchy rope shorts around its ankle. I only keep it for a couple of reasons. First is a sentimental one. It’s one of my earliest and favorite pictures of Shoes from when he was kitten, one of my bestest of pals who passed away 6 six years ago now, clutching onto it in its newer days days to give me a stare and a sniff while we were getting to know each other and second, I keep it on the floor at the end of the bed as it’s kind of become a pretty good lean to assist for old man stand ups. You see I stand UP from my bed as I don’t have a bedframe, just my box spring and mattress on the floor (I don’t like bed frames … got’s to be proactive on possible spots for monsters right?) so the assist can be welcome, but not always necessary though, I’m not quite there yet in my oldness thank you, but welcome on occasion, breathy exhales sometimes included.

Anyway, as I was looking wide raised eyebrow eyed at price tags of cat seats and cat condo’s that can also serve as scratchers on the big shelves or a few smaller ones in an aisle across from them on the regular shelves a pretty young woman passed to step into the next aisle for canned cat food, the aisle that has the Wellness Brand by the way, which is pretty good stuff and correspondingly expensive.

I found two possible scratchers but held the thought for the moment, debating 30 bucks versus 40, as the pretty young woman buying some canned food suddenly reminded me that I should do the same, even though this wasn’t my initial intent tonight, before that reminder fell out of the front of my head only to silently slide out the back. PetSmart has a few things the girls like that the grocery store doesn’t carry so I then passed her, reminder still holding noggin front, on my way a couple of aisles up to where another less expensive brand is located but, knowing that she was stocking up on the Wellness, I almost felt guilty and a bad cat dad for going with the cheaper stuff. I was even worried she’d notice disapprovingly.  

After I grabbed a few cans of what, like I said, I can’t find at the grocery store (a slightly more top shelf version of this one at least to ease my new found bad cat dad guilt) I made my way back to the scratchers aisle to make a decision on that 30 versus 40 bucks but accidentally came up one aisle short (because of course I did) and stepped right into the one that the pretty young woman was standing at the end of, still, though unknowingly, shaming me as she loaded a cardboard flat with the Wellness food, and I almost bumped into her.

“Whoa, shit, sorry, wrong aisle, my bad”

“No problem” she said

Now suddenly it occurred to me that this all could have looked as if I had done it intentionally. See a pretty young woman pass me when, suddenly, it seems I need to walk past HER and then come back again only to “accidentally” step into her aisle and almost bump into her?

Future reference. I never do anything like that intentionally, I REALLY only ever do things like that accidentally, usually too lost in my own thoughts to sidetrack them unnecessarily for that kinda stuff. Plus that whole possible thought’s attention silently sliding out the back of my head thing I mentioned earlier. In general, if I happen to note, wherever I may be, that there’s some younger woman there who, like in this case, is attractive I also then, almost immediately, note the operative word in this sentence, “younger” and that I’m most probably old enough to be her dad, a dad who would probably kick my ass at any of this whole notion of noting things. So, quick admiration and acknowledgement of pretty and I’m done with the thought. Then it’s just to possibly some accidental awkwardness.  

She ended up at the checkout line in front of me and as she was getting ready to leave, bag in hand full of her good cat mom Wellness Brand food and as I was slowly putting my cat scratcher down for the cashier while holding back ever so slightly on the lesser stuff being seen she looked at me and said.

“Have a good night Sir”

“You as well” I replied

Damn … and yeah … she called me “Sir” to which I had three thoughts.

1. Sigh.

2. If she did for some reason think I was actually trying to “check her out” or even hit on her and that I was a bit too old for the attempt and should know better, the “Sir” was very subtly and very well played, very well played indeed. Bravo lady!

3. Sigh.

I think I might just be leaning a little more heavily on that old Shoes cat scratcher at the end of the bed for the stand ups this evening while pausing the TV or in the middle of the night when I have to pee a million times it seems, sometimes even when I don’t have to but just think that I do.

Me 2: “Well is that right now … is that what you’re thinking … Sir?”

Me 1: “Shut up Me 2 … fucker.”

To Pee Or Did I Not To … (song)

(to Shaggy’s “It Wasn’t Me”)

So here at House Wiltse (my latest nom of this place – I’ve penned quite a few of them over the last 3+ years always imagining whichever one on a shingle hanging above the front porch) there are a couple or a few or a number of cats. That’s downstairs by the way. You are already well aware, I’m sure, of my upstairs couple or a few or a number of or a three now or a four twice or a five once or even the momentary more when I’ve made the mistake of leaving my door open while doing a load of clothes. But, like I said, there are a couple or a few or a number of cats downstairs and with that any number comes the occasional issue.

“Hey! Off the counter!”

“Hey! Don’t be swattin’!”

“Hey! I’m wearing a black sweatshirt and don’t have one those sticky rolly things!”

You just learn to roll with them and wear lighter colors.

This is small stuff though, small cat stuff you just navigate knowing that that it is part of the deal. But sometimes the “occasional issue” is one that is more than just a butt push to the floor or an admonishment to be nice or a back off from the sweatshirt you hairy hair hairy. Sometimes it’s an actual issue, like peeing where peeing shouldn’t happen. That’s what litter and its boxes are for right? Not necessarily it seems.

Celie (my landlady for those that don’t know or land-bestie as my friend Jonna likes to put it) texted me just a week or so ago that she had a song idea for me (you may have noticed I’ve been wont to a parody song or two) after one of the couple of or a few of or a number of cats downstairs decided to eschew the litter box and just go free rein, free pee rein.

Cujo.

Again.

She got the thought of the chorus of Shaggy’s “It Wasn’t Me” in her head just with a Cujo pee tint as he surely looked at her and cat said “what?”

I decided to go with that thought and some cat pee silly.

It Wasn’t Me, I Didn’t Pee

Yo, Handsome … Open up man

What do you want Cujo?

Mom just caught me

Seriously?

I don’t know how

Where?

In the shower, you know

Man

I don’t know what to do

Well, say it wasn’t you

Alright

Celie came in and she caught me red handed

Peeing on the shower floor

Picture this, I’m a cat named Cujo

Who doesn’t litter box no more

How could I forget that she lived

On this very big house floor

Just right down the hall here

Till she was standing at the bathroom door

How could you forget that Mom’s the one who owns this villa

She’s got sixth senses that snap up on her pilla

You keep this up she’s gonna be your killa

She knows it’s you even got ya on camera

Before you were dumb and strolled off into the shower

These humans got tech to catch you any hour

Yeah that’s video your ass up on stovetop

You gotta say it wasn’t you to save you from the next stop

But she caught me on the counter (It wasn’t me)
Saw me peein’ on the stovetop (I didn’t pee)
Even saw me in corners (It wasn’t me)
Yeah she caught me on camera (I didn’t pee)
Saw scratches on the floorboards (It wasn’t me)
Smelled the smell that made her nose curl (I didn’t pee)
Heard her screams when she discovered (It wasn’t me)
I couldn’t stay so I took off

Celie came in and she caught me red handed

Peeing on the shower floor

Picture this, I’m a cat named Cujo

Who doesn’t litter box no more

How could I forget that she lived

On this very big house floor

Just right down the hall here

Till she was standing at the bathroom door

Act like nothing happened, that it’s no big deal  

Walk your Cujo walk, denial in your cool

See if you can sing another cat’s fault song

Maybe Sunny with who you don’t get along  

You’re gonna be banished from house for real

You’ll be pushin’ daisies soon for just this deal

You’ll be out garage, house life won’t last

Get caught again and 9th life will pass  

But she caught me on the counter (It wasn’t me)
Saw me peein’ on the stovetop (I didn’t pee)
Even saw me in corners (It wasn’t me)
Yeah she caught me on camera (I didn’t pee)
Saw scratches on the floorboards (It wasn’t me)
Smelled the smell that made her nose curl (I didn’t pee)
I heard the screams when she discovered (It wasn’t me)
I couldn’t stay so I took off

Celie came in and she caught me red handed

Peeing on the shower floor

Picture this, I’m a cat named Cujo

Who doesn’t litter box no more

How could I forget that she lived

On this very big house floor

Just right down the hall here

Till she was standing at the bathroom door

Gonna blame some other

For the smell that I’ve caused

Gotta be some other cat who goes and pees against doors

I will tell her that maybe it’s because of the dogs

I’ll just make sure they don’t catch me

When they figure mad cause

Celie came in and she caught me red handed

Peeing on the shower floor

Picture this, I’m a cat named Cujo

Who doesn’t litter box no more

How could I forget that she lived

On this very big house floor

Just right down the hall here

Till she was standing at the bathroom door

Celie came in

She caught me red handed

It wasn’t me I do say

I didn’t pee I will say

Celie came in then

She caught me red handed

It wasn’t me

Meow

The Continuing Chronicles Of A Crazy Cat Lady Guy: 3 Computer Chairs

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Okay. I’m gonna stop ya right now, before you even start getting all high an mighty about how I should know my place, that I shouldn’t go shootin’ above my station, that I should just keep my head down and defer.  But I have THREE computer chairs now. Suck it.

Like the finest of the fine with doilies under every lamp, majestic chandeliers hanging over your head in grand vestibules when your entry has been announced with white gloves and tails, like momma being too particular and always thinking of the big day and it’s company I have an extra computer chair now, twice, three computer chairs being two more than yours. Alright, that’s a little much, there’s no correlation in sounding all privilege and 3 computer chairs by the way.  It’s just me being dramatic but still feeling a bit fancy. No, I have no idea how three computer chairs equates to fancy, it’s just the seeming and joking excess that’s kinda cool. 

You see Cricket the Blind is a pain in the ass. However much she may be good sleep company, the best of sleep company, grabbing that nook between two pillows with a paw on a shoulder and the comfiest of a night’s almost sleep when you need it the most she is an awful computer cat. Always squirmy and moving, never settled. Thus, a third chair.

Typing around her, a right hand click click with a left hand butt hold, or a left hand click click with a right hand butt hold, she always proves to be just no good at this Steve wants words with both hands thing.

Three computer chairs

///////////////////////////////////////

There was a sun room and a blind cat. A room and a cat I would make my way to, a destination, on a daily basis when I first moved in here after convincing Celie that I was an alright guy (yes Todd Snider, I gotchya) convincing her that there was nothing to be concerned with, with a me, when it came to this new soon to not be stranger venturing into her house, and through the kitchen with hello’s to all the kit gang, Hey Honey Bob Tail “Boo”, Hi Handsome, Sharky, Bunny, what’s up Chubs and a prairie dog stand up, Lola, Florida, Cujo, Trucker under the table on a chair, the always Bruce owning this place with his Billy Idol smirk’s seeming disdain, others I may be missing, yes, Bella Bird, you too and I got your new water and then into the sun room. Cricket was an extra hello that I found necessary. She still needs a pick up to behind my right ear daily as I always did when I would finally make my way to the back of the house and that sunroom.

Then came some new company in this sunroom spot and I worried of Cricket the Blind and the interaction with a blind cat and a newbie.

“I can bring her upstairs with me for right now” I said to Celie, trying to avoid the possibilities of a bad meet between the two.

That “for right now” has turned into 3 years and an always right now. She has found a singular human, has found that daily shoulder behind the right ear lift. But she is, as a I mentioned earlier, a pain in the ass. Everything that cats do, from water bowling, to meowing to litter boxing Cricket does annoyingly. The water in bowls is an argument she makes with it, splashingly and messily, her meowing is more a loud meowl sounding wail like she’s mourning a loss, the litter in its box is a fight she picks with it throwing it about around her like some well crafted scene from a martial arts movie with kicks and lunges and tosses or a bugs bunny-like digging a hole or tunnel, dirt/litter cartoonishly being thrown behind her.

/////////////////////////////////////////

When I sit down to scribble key a few words it’s usually with a Memes on my desk on a bar towel, always looking not quite comfy and a part of the quirky, a Bella in a chair next to me (she always has to be) and a Cricket asleep in my former ass warm spot in front of a leaned wall pillow on the bed. But then Cricket will awake, “She is ALIVE!”, lightly stepping down to the floor and then to roomba around spots in this little place, head bump turn, meowl, head bump turn, meowl, head bump turn.

Eventually the head bump turn roomba meowling will put her at my feet and the need of a pick up … to my lap and being a bad computer cat. But I noted that when I find the need to get up, to pee, grab another beer, or to just get up to walk a bit around this place, surveying my comfort, she’ll be all good with a lay down on my chair. Another ass warm spot. That’s when I realized if only for another chair. One for cricket, one for Bella and one to sit in with a Memes cat in a lap after she wants off her bar towel as she’s the best at that cat lap sit, just on my left hip.  If I get a fourth chair you might wanna call someone for an intervention. 

But I think I’m good with three now. I know, it sounds crazy cat lady guy-like but it really is somewhat practical from my perspective and, again, almost kinda fancy but … well, it works and I can type with both hands. Right Memes?

Memes and a computer lap