Crazy Cat Lady

I’m single, I live alone, I own a pink chenille robe and purple fuzzy slippers and on rare occasions I show up in public with rollers in my hair. (It was Halloween and a wig, but still counts.) It should come as no surprise that I have two cats.

I am well on my way to becoming the youngest crazy cat lady ever, if I am not already there. For Christmas one year, my best friend gave me the most amazing action figure ever – The Crazy Cat Lady, complete with eight cats. See photo above. I think she was trying to tell me something.

In my last post, I talked about my parents’ dogs and then felt like a guilty parent, doting on my pet siblings but not talking about my own furry offspring.  See what I mean? I’m totally a crazy cat lady talking about my furry offspring. 

After returning from an amazing fourteen week backpacking trip through Europe after college (with the friend who gave me the action figure), I found myself at my parents’ house in Dallas, twiddling my thumbs trying to come up with my next steps. (Hey that sounds familiar, except now I am in NB at my grandparents’ house. Hmmmm) Anyways, my mom and I went to a charity dog walk, at which they had kittens up for adoption. This seemed odd, as having kittens at a dog walk seems a lot like inviting mice to a party hosted by hungry snakes. Either way, there was a cage with two tiny terrified fur balls that had been found that morning in a nearby alley. My mom took one look at them and said “We’ll take them!” I looked at her like she was crazy, as she already had four, maybe even five, cats at that time and three dogs. Clearly I come from an animal-loving family. We decided to adopt them and whenever I got a job and moved out, I’d take them with me. Six years later, I still have the two furry indoor only companions – Clementine and Nutmeg. Yes, I did move out of my parents house, eventually. 

Kittens!

Clementine is the adorable orange one, barely weighing in at six pounds soaking wet and has questionable eyesight and judgment but has the loudest yowl I've ever heard.

Clementine, not escaping

Nutmeg is the big brown one, topping the scales at fourteen pounds, is at least part Maine Coon acts more like a dog than a cat. She sleeps at my feet, hates being picked up and will play fetch with her toys. She jumped up on the bed last night and dropped a little sparkly ball in my lap for me to throw. I complied and she promptly brought it back to my bedside to repeat. Good dog! 

Nutmeg, also not escaping

They are both weary of strangers, having lived a rather secluded life indoors with me, but will warm up after a while. Clementine is not the sharpest apple in the drawer and gets confused easily. When my mom comes over, she often purrs and hisses at the same time while getting petted.  Nutmeg will hide under the bed or chair until she deems the stranger okay, usually after 15-20 minutes and then will wind her way around their legs, leaving her long fur on them as a token of love, or spite.

I left the windows at my house open on a recent warm day and left for a few hours, not thinking about the sturdiness of the screens separating them from the wild world outside. When I returned, the screen had been knocked out and Nutmeg was patiently sitting in the window sill, halfway hanging outside checking out the great outdoors but from the safety of the house. I panicked a little when I couldn't find Clementine, thinking she had escaped and would never return, as she is not the brightest bulb on the block. Thankfully, she too was still inside. Either they are that scared of life outside or they realized how darn good they have it living with me. I like to think the  latter.They've also lived with me in an Airstream trailer on four separate occasions which they seemed to tolerate and have been on more than a few road trips, which of course they hate.

Hanging out in the Airstream

Nutmeg even took up drinking while living in the trailer

Their most hated activity though, might be the annual Kate and cats Christmas card. After starting to get the Christmas cards with cute photos of couples from my friends a few years ago, I decided that I could play that game too! I found some cat sized antlers and Christmas hats, a willing photographer friend or two and began an (almost) yearly tradition. Here are some of the highlights over the years. The amazing photos in front of the Airstream were taken by my professional photographer friend, the other Kate. Merry Catmas Y’all (a little late)!

Best. Pajamas. Ever.

Right before she scratched my face off

She actually loves having her photo taken

See? Total ham!

HATES having her photo taken

 Still hating it and possibly contemplating suicide

 Such a drama queen! (The cat, not me)

 OMG it's a flying cat! (Who was not harmed in the photo shoot, but I was)

I know not everyone loves or even likes cats, but they are pretty awesome pets if you ask me. They are relatively low maintenance and keep me pretty entertained, which is more than I can say for the multiple beta fish I've accidentally killed over the years. The cats don't bark, their meows very rarely wake me and I can leave them alone for a few days (with adequate food and water) and not worry that they will destroy the entire house. I never have to rush home to let them out and they seem to tolerate my crazy schedule. They've also got quite a bit of 'tude and only do what they want to do, when they want to do it. Gotta respect that!

xoxo,
The Youngest Crazy Cat Lady in Texas 

My Siblings, of the Four-Pawed Variety

The dogs deserve a formal introduction as I spent more time with them than I do most other family members. (Sorry family!)

Why did the dogs cross the bridge? To roll in cow manure, of course.

I grew up in an animal loving family. We always had at least two dogs and three cats, but usually the numbers were a bit higher. This was probably three dogs, five cats and a variety of rodents, rabbits and fish at our peak. When I left home for college and "the real world" that just meant there was more room for my parents' four-legged children. The dogs are definitely more spoiled than I ever was, though my two-legged siblings might argue with that statement.  Currently my parents have four dogs, combined they weigh somewhere around 400 pounds (the dogs, not my parents).  Since I've been in NB, I've been joining them on hikes at the ranch, as part of my 100 minutes of daily physical activity.

Meet Beulah, Arthur, Bucky and PeeWee, there is never a dull day at the Poss zoo!

Beulah, Bucky and PeeWee washing off the cow poo

Beulah: The big white lab (technically, she’s half lab half Akbash, a great pyranese type dog, but who is counting) and mama to Pee Wee and Bucky. She is stubborn, sweet and enjoys romping on the ranch almost as much as licking the bacon grease off an old frying pan. 

Beulah, also known as "Boo-Boo"

Arthur: The standard parti poodle and father to Pee Wee and Bucky. He’s the one with short curly poodle fur that’s white with gray spots. Possibly the goofiest dog I’ve ever known, he has endless energy and will gallop for hours on the ranch, running laps around the other three, which is also why he's hard to capture on camera. He loves shoes and greets you at the front door with one every time, not to chew on, but to present to you as a gift. Last but not least, he always, must, every single time he's gotta go, squat over a bush to do his "business." Weirdo.

Arthur in motion

Bucky: The big shaggy white and gray spotted labradoodle . Yep, labradoodle. My parent’s bred Arthur and Beulah a few years back and had a litter of nine smart, stubborn, goofy labradoodles before it was cool to do so. Bucky is a true mama’s boy and won’t go anywhere without my mom. His size and bark are worse than his bite (unless you are a small, edible dog) and he once jumped into my mom’s arms when a herd of cows chased him on the ranch.

Bucky, probably looking for his mom

PeeWee: the shaggy black labradoodle and runt of the litter, hence her name. I am convinced this dog understands English and can actually speak it as well; she just refuses to do so out of pure obstinacy.  She is the smartest dog to ever join our family; she can open doors, steal cat food without anyone noticing and learn new tricks in under 5 minutes. She will bark orders at you with enough sass that you actually get up do what she wants. This usually involves a walk, run or food; she is still a dog after all and my favorite of the pack.

PeeWee. What a good dog!

What is the best part about these dogs? I don't have to take care of them! (Except when my parents are out of town.) It's like having nieces and nephews. I get to play with them, teach them annoying tricks, get them muddy, dirty and all riled up and when they start to smell or cry, I give them back to their parents and leave! It's a win-win, for me at least.

Favorite Person At The Gym: The Grunter

You can hear him from every corner at the gym. I tried to type out what a grunt sounds like, but nothing really does it justice and it just looks funny.

AAARRRRG! No, that's not it.

UUUUUUUHHHHHHHGGGGG! Closer, but still not quite there. 

You know what I'm talking about. The loud, guttural, almost animal like sound usually followed by the clatter of many weights falling to the ground. This particular grunter however, was not lifting heavy weights. He was doing lunges. Just regular, old, lunge back and forth across the gym exercises holding some average sized weights. Again, this is more than I can manage as I am barely able to lunge deep enough for my back knee to touch the ground before I lose my balance and fall over. Sometimes one of my gluteus maximus muscles (that is the butt for you non science types) cramps and I stand awkwardly in the middle of the gym trying to massage it inconspicuously. I applauded the grunter for his balancing act but was the grunting really necessary? Turns out it was necessary for EVERY exercise he did that day, as the grunting did not cease when he finished his lunges. He better watch out, when I did a failed search for a "grunting" sound effect I came across this article about a weightlifter who was thrown out of a gym for grunting back in 2006.