#205- A LETTER TO SHAY AND LOGAN

This picture was taken this summer 2011.

Shay and Logan are my daughter's children.  They live on the east coast and I don't get to see them very often.  I miss them very much.


One day something happened with the young cat they named Tinker Bell.   I just had to try to put it into words and share the fun.  By the way, the name Tinker Bell didn't stick.  This is the cat I now call Kit... ... also, Cassy was a dog I had before Toby.

Wednesday, January 9, 2008

My Dearest Shay and Logan:

I want to tell you a story about something that happened to Tinkerbell (Tink) just yesterday.

I have been working on the windows in the den for about a week (I’m sure you remember it as the room off the kitchen that is a brilliant blue and white).  At the end of each day I pile all of my tools and stuff on the top shelf of my unfinished bookshelf.  It is important to the story to understand that this shelf is only supported by a few books at each corner. 

It is equally important to know that Tink has taught herself to go in and back out of the doors to the garage (as long as I do not push them shut).  She comes in from the garage by slipping her curious paw under the metal storm door tugging until she can wrench it open enough to slip her equally curious nose through the opening.  Then she pushes against the door and it easily gives way to her nudge.  Both doors gently swing back to their almost closed positions once she is in.  She simply reverses the procedure when she decides it is time to go out.  Tink has been doing this for several months now, which proves what a smart kitty she is.  This skill is something that Cassy (who should be renamed “Big Dumb Chicken” won’t even try).  The storm door scares the devil out of her (as does just about everything – but, that’s another story altogether).

Anyway, back to Tink’s story. It was late yesterday afternoon and the weather had turned cold and damp.  I was snuggled up in my recliner; reading a good book and listening to the cold north wind bring in the threatened rain.  Tink, apparently having her fill of the fickle weather, let herself quietly in.  She chirped her usual greeting (which is something like a rolling meow) and jumped up on her stool by the window and over the heater vent.  She settled in to warm herself and check out her yard for interlopers.  Suddenly, the top shelf shifted and dumped its entire contents beside Tink. 

Now, I want you to say the words one thousand one. OK, say them again only faster.  That was how much time it took for Tink to “streak” into the garage.  I have never witnessed an animal’s reaction as fast at this.  I don’t know how she did it without breaking the sound barrier but she was gone in a flash.  The only indication that she wasn’t there anymore was the loud thump on the metal door as it slammed shut when she hastily exited the room.  I didn’t actually see all of this because she was so fast my eyes couldn’t take it all in.  The sound of her knocking open the storm door only a split second after the contents slid from the shelf was all I needed.  I could the see the entire exodus in my minds eye.

There sat Tink, minding her own business, warming her body after a cold foray into the late wintery afternoon.  She is feeling safe and comfy; watching her favorite animals flit in and out of a brush pile placed by the curb.  She has no intention of returning to the frigid out doors as it is beginning to rain.  She is thinking about ways to snag one of those pesky birds when she does decide to go back out.  Suddenly, her placid world was flipped inside out (or should I say SHE was).  Menacing objects came hurling down onto her from high above.  I do not know what she thought, but I AM sure it had nothing to do with birds!

If I had been filming this entire episode I am sure all that would be seen is a blurred streak flying into the air, across the floor and out the doors.  However, if we could slow the picture down we might be able to see Tink with every hair on her body on end, her legs flailing in the air, bottle brush tail stiffened, and  panicked eyes as big as buttons on a large teddy bear.  We would be able to follow her aerobics through the air as she flipped off the stool and flew toward the closest exit.  We would be able to see her streaking across the carpet, pull the first door back and hit the storm door so hard that it made a racket as  it flew open into the garage.  We would be able to see her flee the garage under the slightly opened door and escape the attack of the unknown aliens that invaded her home.

While hysterically laughing at Tink’s reaction I straightened the shelf and returned some of it’s contents to their place.  I then went into the cold afternoon to retrieve her from whatever hiding place she had found.  I called for almost 15 minutes before she finally answered my call and waltzed up to my leg.

She did not want to return to the scene of her attack.  She pushed against me as I brought her through the door.  Her ears were flattened tightly against her head, her body was tense and her eyes were narrowed into two tiny slits.  To say that this room is no longer her favorite.  I put her down in my chair as I tried to reassure her with my voice. But, Tink was glowering at the corner of the room where the attack took place.  Growling, she leapt from the chair and slinked in counter-attack mode across the floor to the foot of her stool.  Once there she immediately started slapping the electric screw driver that laid on the floor near the heating vent.  I guess, in her mind this was the culprit that turned her happy home into a disaster area.  She beat it several times with both right and left paws to make sure the darn thing was dead!  Convinced it was no longer a threat she jumped back up onto her stool and immediately began to take a cat bath to calm her frayed nerves.

This whole scenario struck me so funny that I laughed deep belly laughs, non-stop, for almost the entire 15 minutes from start to finish.  Through all of this Cassy had first disappeared behind the chair then came out doing her “What? What?” dance when I erupted into laughter.  I can’t believe I am still l laughing about an event that only took a fraction of a second to play out.  

I love you all and hope you enjoyed my story.

Love,
Grammy

7/2011

YEAH!  ...IT'S COMING UP...BE SURE TO BE HERE NEXT MONDAY FOR ..."OUT OF THE MOUTHS OF BABES."  


AND, WHILE YOU ARE AT IT PUT A BIG SMILEY FACE ON SEPTEMBER 16TH FOR THE  "Mini Skirts and Laughter Lines Launch Party." 

#182- THE GHOST CAT

My cat, Kit, is not a happy camper.  She has had a stranger, two small kids, a ferret, a parakeet and four mice move into her home (you would think the bird and mice would give her reason to celebrate her windfall).  She refuses to come home until late at night (can't blame her), and I have had to coax her in with her favorite cat treats as a lure.

To make matters worse, I hired a crew to come out and redo the facia board and guttering on the house.  They were here for a couple of days and making a lot of racket.  The evening of the second day my Kit did not come home.  At 10:00 PM, 11:00 PM and 12:00 AM I went outside, walked around, and called her.  Occasionally, I would faintly hear her,  but never did get a fix on where she was.  Even though I hated to leave her outside all night, I finally gave up.

I worried about her most of the night and checked around for her early the next morning.  There are a lot of critters around here that could seriously hurt her and I was concerned she had been injured (or worse).  The next morning, I was in the garage feeding Toby, and  I heard her soft mew.  I called and called but she didn't come.  Usually, she comes running when I shake her favorite bag of treats.  But, no Kit!

Having lots of work to do I went about my morning choirs (Dad's breakfast, making beds etc).  As I would move from room to room I would hear Kit's soft, plaintiff, mew.  It seamed to follow me.   I would look around, and call after her only to find that she wasn't there.

By now, you guys should know how my mind works.  A thought flashed through my head.  OMG she's dead and haunting me from room to room.   However, the thought was fleeting as I realized that her sound was coming from above my head.  Now, I know it's hard to believe, but I do draw the line at cats as angels, sooooooooo, that means SHE'S IN THE ATTIC.  I retrieved the ladder from the back shed, drug it into the house and accessed the attic portal in the ceiling of our hall.  BINGO!  There she was!

What happened next really pissed hacked me off!  She gave one of her little rolling meows and darted off into the attic with a little, catch me if you can, flit to her tail.  Cats!  I will never understand them.  They are from another galaxy, I'm sure.  Twenty minutes later she came down the ladder on her own, ate her kitty kibbles, and settled her dusty, spider web covered body down on my clean folded clothes for a nap (which I interrupted by grabbing her up and wiping her down with a wash cloth).  She growled at me, showed me her tail end, and stalked off to another napping place (under my bed).

(Apparently, when the men left for lunch, their ladder gave her easy access to the exposed eaves they were working on.)
kt 4/13/11 

#24-PUSSY CAT PERILS

I have a Cat named “Kit.”  No, not “Kit-Kat", but just KIT.  The name works for her.  I found her under my truck one day when I was visiting my son and his family.  This small tortoise shell kitten was apparently waiting there for me to find her and take her home.  We were a match from day one.

She is a smart cat and learned how to let herself in and out of my back door.  When she first comes in she yowels at me and tells me about her day outside.  Occasionally, she brings me trophies.  One time she brought in a half eaten bird.  Yes, I have talked to her about that. She put the darned thing in her food dish.  That was just plain gross!  But, at least she knew where it went.

Several times she brought live birds into the house.  I should be happy because she apparently listened to my lecture about not killing birds.  However, the release of a flying creatures in the house causes a big hullabaloo.  It is usually a race to see who can catch the bird first.  So far I am winning! (5 to 1)  She also released one small bunny rabbit which took US thirty minutes to catch.  I released him (the bunny) outside, and even though winded (both of us, actually) he streaked away.

Kit has been subjected to being on the edge of the fall-out from my many projects.  She has been spray painted, chased by a run away sander, struck by falling debris, startled by wayward ladders, and was forgotten on top of my roof (NOT MY FAULT, she followed me up there).  Yet she still comes home.  However, she now watches my projects from a vast distance (like I said, she is very smart cat).  She is like a best friend.

I have a best friend like that.  Her name is Carol.  Although I have never spray painted her or stranded her on my roof top, I know she will always be there for me, no matter what.

See blog # 13 for the sander episode. (She will also be featured in future blogs, I’m sure).
kt 2010


PS.
Since this was posted one more peril has been added to Kit's life, and it goes by the name of TOBY!

Look at THAT fool in the background.
He's tried to climb this tree three times.
This is ME ignoring HIM!

Guess what happened to the ladder I was standing on to take this picture.  Yep, one leg went into a mole hole and dumped me on the ground.  Kit looked on (and I think she was smiling) and Toby smothered me with doggy kisses.

kt  3/2011