posted by Evi on Apr 26
Over the years the Smooch has trained me in other ways. For example, he’s trained me to keep him company when he eats. He’ll head toward his food dish, stop, then look over his shoulder to see if I have enough common sense to realize he wants me to follow him. If I don’t, he’ll wait there and stare at me as if I’m daft. (I know, I know, you all probably think I am. I mean who else would write about being trained by a cat? And for those of you thinking dirty thoughts – don’t even go there!)
His favorite time to have me stand patiently and watch him eat is around 11:00 or 12:00 at night as I’m getting ready to go to bed. He’ll follow me to the bedroom, stare at me and slowly try to lead me to his food dish in the kitchen. Lately, though, I’ve started to assert my independence and go to bed instead.
After I’m in bed, either reading or having turned off the light, Smoochie Cat joins. He used to make himself comfortable near my feet so that I couldn’t move. Now before he does that he spends some time sleeping on the pillow between Bill and me so that if I roll over I have my face in his fur.
He’s also taught me to give him more room on the sofa. My sofa is a chaise longue and I stretch out on that when watching TV. That has also become Smoochie’s sofa. But instead of taking over an amount of space proportionate to his size, he stretches out across the whole thing, leaving me to hang my legs over the side.
You’re probably asking yourselves why the hell I don’t just kick him off. Well, he’s just too darn cute!
The Smooch on his sofa
posted by Evi on Apr 22
No, this is not about a new Phillipa Gregory novel; actually it’s about Smoochie Cat and me. Whoever said cats were stupid is the one who should have his or her head examined. Smoochie Cat is one smart cat and throughout the years has trained me well.
We won’t go into the obvious things about cleaning out litter boxes or having a bowl of food and fresh water set out before him. That’s normal protocol. I mean actual training where I have learned to read his body language and the various nuances in his meows.
HIS MAJESTY
Ever since he was a kitten he started my training. He would leap on to the kitchen table (where he wasn’t allowed – and he knew that all too well) and would wait for me to start yelling at him. He’d stand there staring at me until I got up off the sofa then he’d bolt and I would chase him. I caught him once or twice and either took a swat at him or grabbed him and threw him in the bathroom for a timeout. He learned pretty quickly to evade capture and would then run under the table and chairs where I couldn’t reach him. This, of course, became a game for him so every time I sat down on the sofa he’d hop back up on the table. This went on and on until one of us (usually me) tired of the game.
Then I figured since I couldn’t catch him I’d buy a water pistol and squirt him with it when he’d escape under the table. Well, believe it or not, this cat loved the water pistol. I’d squirt him, he’d drink the water I squirted, then tap the pistol for more. Oka-a-a-y, so that didn’t work. I finally gave up trying to chase him (actually I couldn’t deal with the stress anymore) and he eventually tired of the game and stayed off the kitchen table.
Then, one day while I was running the bathroom faucet, he decided he wanted to drink from it and, like a fool, I let him. To this day, the little bastard still wants water from the faucet. His water dish is his absolute last resort. He’ll head toward the bathroom door, peering over his shoulder at me every few steps. (This, I found out means, “well what are you waiting for, let’s move it!” in cat talk.) If I don’t follow him immediately into the bathroom he’ll jump up on the vanity and throw a cat tantrum. Did you ever hear one of those? It pretty embarrassing when we have company and he starts in. I have to run to the bathroom and turn on the faucet in order to shut him up. Of course, this doesn’t sit too well with my husband and sometimes I have to choose whom to obey. Usually Smoochie Cat wins out because he can be more disruptive than Bill.
To be continued . . .
posted by Evi on Apr 19
So how’s everyone doing out there, considering the economy? Not too bad, I hope.
Me? I’m just waiting to see what happens to my million dollar bonus this year. Will they take it back or give the IRS 90% of it?
OMG, what will that do to my lifestyle? I may have to trade in my Maybach limo for a mere Mercedes and, oh horrors, give up my private jet and travel commercial to my homes in Europe and the Caribbean. Though, I guess I’ll keep my estate on Long Island’s Gold Coast but I may have to cut down some on the staff. I think two gardeners and three maids should be able to handle things quite nicely when I’m not around.
Downsizing my 10,000 square foot Gulf front Southwest Florida home is out of the question since I spend most of the year there, but maybe I’ll give up the yacht since boating makes me seasick anyway.
But no matter what – I’ll still have a helluva lot more than you little people out there. I won’t have to worry about losing my home and living under the bridge over the Caloosahatchee River, nor will I have to fight my dog for his kibbles and bits. I’ll still hang onto my Lamborghinis and the Maserati – after all, gas prices have dropped – so I’ll still be able to afford to drive them.
And unlike you out there, I’m not worried about losing my job. Hell, I’ve got enough Golden Parachutes, pensions and whatnot to keep me going in style for the rest of my life.
Best of all, the Government can’t get its hands on my Swiss Bank Accounts so with a little frugality and downsizing on my part I am set for years to come. Unlike you little people out there.
(I hope you all are aware that I’m just kidding. Makes you kinda sick to hear all this crap about AIG and others getting their bonuses from our tax dollars. I mean, if you have nothing better to do with your money send it to me!)
posted by Evi on Apr 4
Well, it’s that time of year again. You know, tax time. For all you people out there getting tax refunds – goody for you. Once again Uncle Sam is digging in my pockets. Let up already, will you. Go after those with the big bucks. I’m sure there are plenty of CEOs and politicians out there who could stand a closer look.
Now my tax preparer tells me the IRS is going to go more aggressively after us little people. What the hell more do they expect to extract. Our blood? (Save that for the blood bank.) Better reserve a site under the Caloosahatchee River Bridge for me.
Uncle Sam, go where the big money is. You know – those with the expensive CPAs and attorneys on retainer who are so adept at finding tax loophole after loophole. That’s where you’re going to find your money. A couple of hundred dollars from me won’t even finance a night out for these guys.
Actually, I’m kinda surprised at the stupidity of some of these guys who are up for government positions. Didn’t they ever figure they’d finally get caught for not paying taxes year after year? I mean, they shoulda known they’d be investigated! But I guess a slap on the wrist will teach them a lesson or two. Me? If I didn’t pony up, I’d have my ass thrown in jail for tax evasion.
Well, no one said life would be fair. But let’s face it, it’s a lot more fair for some.