Fresh Sheets from the Dryer + Cats =

Hobbes's Secret

Looking at this photo of our lazy and fat tub o' orange and white fur one would never believe what I am about to relay, but I swear on a stack of Friskies Salmon pate (his fav) that it is all too true.

A couple nights ago as I am finally beginning to drift off to sleep after 3 hours of tossing and turning (sadly -- the norm these days) a thought strikes me... "Why hasn't Hobbes been poking at my nose?" You see, cats are creatures of routine, and one of Hobbes's routines is every night as soon as I turn off the reading light and settle in for sleep he insists on sauntering lumbering over to within inches of my face and poking me in the nose with his outstretched paw (often catching some skin as his claws sometimes extend -- very startling if I haven't seen him coming). But that night -- no nose pawing.

So, I sit up a bit and notice he's not even on the bed. Hmm. Lean over the side, and he's not on the dog bed, either (he likes it because it's not his, so he claims it and challenges any to usurp his princely throne -- none do). Okay, now I'm awake so I call him. "Hobbes. Hobbesies..." Nothing (really, he's a cat so I don't know what I was expecting). So up I get.

I check the kitchen table (his favorite day-time lounging spot -- lots of activity out the kitchen window). No Hobbes. The litter boxes -- no Hobbes. Then I remember he and Boogs have been curling up together in Simon's crate lately (again -- claiming their territory I think). Check the crate -- Boogs is there (looking peeved that I disturbed him), but no Hobbes.

This pattern goes on throughout the house for several minutes with my heart rate continually increasing and my calls surely sounding more appealing to a rotund house cat (so I was hoping), but Hobbes is nowhere to be found.

Now I'm in a panic. As a last resort I throw on my pants and shoes and grab a flashlight and head out into the backyard (knowing full well the only way out there for him would be down the stairs -- which he abhors -- to the basement -- which he avoids like the plague -- and through the dog door -- quite the step up for a 20 pound cat). But what the hell, it'll make me feel better to look and at least exhaust the options.

So out the door I go. "Hobbes! Hobbesies!" Nothing (duh). Around the side to what I think was intended to be a garden. "Hobbes!" No Hobbes. Back to the yard and now my flashlight is scanning the bushes and trees. Still no Hobbes.

I turn the corner to head up the stairs to the gate and frozen in the beam of my flashlight...
(This is my best drawing of his shocked expression -- one which seemed to say, "Crap! You're supposed to be asleep!")

He froze for a second and then darted (yes, darted --well, his front feet dart, and his back feet kinda bounce like the rear end of a Lincoln Towncar with a shot suspension) back down the stairs, past me, down the path to the back door and disappeared behind the dog door flap into the relative safety of the house. In my head I heard him saying, "Aargh! Caught! Crap crap crap!" all the way back upstairs.

Panic turned to unrestrained laughter. I am sure my neighbors thought there was a wounded seagull in their yard as I think my attempts at muffling my amusement were largely unsuccessful. His expression and less-than-graceful retreat reminded me of... well, he just looked so embarrassed. It cracked me up.

So our fat, lazy and sedentary Hobbes seems not to be so sedentary after all.

And yes, I am closing the dog door at night now. ;)

The Diagnosis

Miss Kitty has Feline Eosinophilic Granuloma Complex and has to be on antiobiotics for two months. I also have to clean her chin with medicated pads. You can kinda see one of the spots on the right side of her chin here.

Miss Kitty Recovers

Miss Kitty's biopsy went well and we should know the results Friday. She has recovered her appetite (it's hard to wait for you owner to fill up your bowl of food), and her stitches come out in a couple of weeks.

Miss Kitty

Has to have a biopsy done on her chin tomorrow. Send some positive thoughts her way.

Pip pip! Tea and crumpets. Cheerio!

Okay, I know that's a totally awful title -- I don't know too many Englishmen anymore so am out of touch with the vernacular -- but in the spirit of the day I needed a catchy "English" title. So. Pip pip! 'Tis the big day!

Yes, like so many others I have been sucked into the Royal Wedding hype. I have to admit it's kinda fun. The Royal Family is one of the last living ties to the shared history we have with our friends "across the pond."

There's also the fact that Les and I are marrying in Scotland this upcoming October. ;) Les DVRed the Royal's big day and we plan to watch it this evening as we work on our own plans.

So,in the spirit of the day, Herman and Prince Miniherman (Les's latest knitted creation -- he's lopsided because I'm the one that sewed him up) would like to wish the Royal Couple years of happy memories!



Long live the Corgi!

Spring . . .

has sprung!

Team CorgiPals Magnet

Herman received his Team CorgiPals magnet yesterday. Herman is sponsoring Dexter in the Walk for Animal 2011. Herman is slowing down a bit in his old age and can't walk as far but he still supports the young whipper snappers. He also tried to eat the magnet but we won't focus on that. He decided his antler bone was more tasty.

Bread, loaves, and whales

So I got a bug up my butt and decided to try a new wheat bread recipe I found online. Actually, Les has been under the weather the last couple days and I figured she might appreciate it. Actually I just like baking. Or something. Anyway, I made some bread.

Problem is my I think my active dry yeast is a little old (I usually use the stuff in a brick -- Instant? Heck there's so many different kinds even the experts that try to make sense of it sound confused). So my dough had a hard time rising. A very hard time. After the first punch down I shaped it into loaves and decided I'd put the pans in the oven on "warm" to help aid the process. Thinking it'd leave it for about 30 min and then check it I took Simon for a walk. While on the walk I got a call from Les that her dad was in town and wanted to join us for an early dinner at the Asian place down the road. So I hotfooted it back to the house, turned the oven off and off we went to eat. Of course, I didn't open the door so the loaves sat in a "warm" oven for about 2 hours. Warm being 170 degrees F. Well, the bread rose (some)... and sank.

But what the heck -- it was already in the pans and looked like bread dough (even sunk) so I went ahead and baked it.


Looks good, but you'll see the sunken center in the middle one. That had me worried. Cutting it open once it cooled enough had me encouraged.


Hey! Looks like bread! A dense bread for sure, but bread nonetheless. Amazingly, it also tastes wonderful! It's a honey wheat and you can really pick up the honey, though it's definitely not a sweet bread. I must say I was pleasantly surprised.

What sucks is I'll have to wait another year before I can make it just like this again unless anyone has any almost shot active dry yeast that's been sitting around for 10-12 months they'd like to send me. ;)

I brought a loaf over to Les and had her try a slice from the loaf I cut into and she thought it was great, too, so I know I'm not crazy here. Well... on this point, anyway. But, she did point out something startling...

Late last week we took Herman in to get his annual shots and while there we of course had him sit on the scale. Well, let's just say that Herman ate well this winter, and this pic:


Well, he really wasn't as puffed up as I guess I let on. He really was stretching and pushing out his chest. Honest.

The vet isn't worried (winter weight he called it) since we religiously walk the poochies in the summer, but there's no denying Herman has been practicing his hibernation techniques.

Why is this relevant to my bread baking exercise? As I said Les pointed out something startling...

Compare:


She called them "Corgi Loaves." I think we need to work on some waist definition (for the dog). I'd hate for Herman to earn the moniker "Herman the Wheat Loaf". :)

Hobbes, of course, refuses to be outdone in this particular Olympic event (two things are events to Hobbes -- eating and sleeping, and he takes his training for both very seriously).

Basket Case

I have turned into a basket case with the wedding in Scotland getting closer (6 months, 3 weeks, and 5 days).

Miss Kitty provides a lot of support with cuddling, purring, and patting me on the face with her paw. Herman does a lot of sulking underneath the coffee table. Al has been providing a steady stream of cocoa cappuccinos from Starbucks.

Who knew that so much goes into picking a cake (fruit cake with rum, or sponge cake), hors d'oeuvres (canapés), dinner (salmon, chicken or angus beef), and flowers (traditional Scottish thistles or roses). Then there are the measurements for gowns, kilts, etc. And what about the logistics? Who is going to pick up the cake (we have to put it together ourselves), flowers, and kilts? Sigh, I am already on my second cocoa cappuccino.

Wordless Wednesday

Where's Waldo?

For some reason that's what came to mind when I saw this still from the pet-cam:


Seriously. Which one is the dog and which are the toys?

More possible captions:

"Ack! My feet are too short! I've fallen and I can't get up!"

"I can't eat another marshmallow."

"This downward facing dog stuff is hard with 3 inch long legs. I'm done with yoga."

"Like this Mr. Pink Piggy? Am I doing it right?"

In my best Marlin Perkins voice: "Like the puffer fish, the wild Corgi when startled can make his body expand to fill a sphere twice his normal size, thus giving his feet the appearance of deadly, stubby spears."

Or, what really happened:
"Yawn!" *stretch*

Wordless Wednesday

Boogs vs. Herman: The Final Smackdown

The Winner: Boogers (aka Boogs), 13-pound Tabby

I like to tease the wee four-legged beastie.

Boogs executed a hit and run while strategically hiding inside the dog door. He was last seen gloating to Hobbes in the bedroom and planning his next maneuver.

The loser: Herman (aka Killer), 30-pound Corgi

Don't tell anyone about the pink blanky.

Herman was given a treat in his kennel with his (Feo's) pink blanky. Neosporin was administered to his eye injury. Herman received points for extreme yiping and sulking. He was last seen sulking in the corner telling Feo how Boogs tried to gouge his eye out.

Two of a Kind

Queen Miss Kitty and Lord Ori

Most people don't know that we adopted Miss Kitty last year because she looks so much like Ori. Another Ragdoll that looked like Ori was hard to pass up. How many of them could there be in Casper, Wyoming?

Now the two of them look grand together and reign over the household from their throne from above (the top of the entertainment center). Ori conducts the royal interrogations and Miss Kitty announces, "Off with their heads!" Ruling over a household of cats and one corgi is very hard work. Someone is always stealing Miss Kitty's tarts or her favorite bed. I am sure if Herman would act as a warm pig for her feet she would demand it too.

Miss Kitty.
Ori.

Miss Kitty is insulted

I personally had no idea how easily a cat's... ahem... Kitty's feelings could be hurt, but apparently their stoic exterior shrouds a fragile ego and need for love, or in the case of blogs -- comments.

So, after having my pant leg shredded and admonished to only use a real camera with a proper flash when capturing her essence in all its fabulously furry glory, Miss Kitty agreed to let me live if I would touch up her last pic a bit and repost.

For the love of all that is holy, please tell her how pretty she is, what a lovely specimen of the feline species her form represents, and how much you want to rub her bunny soft belly. I only have so many pairs of pants.

What do you mean these are Herman's toys?

Three Day Weekends

Washington's Birthday (or, as I grew up knowing it -- President's Day) is one of those holidays that don't really have much of a tradition. On Independence Day there are cookouts, fireworks, ballgames; Thanksgiving is for family dinners and, well, football; Memorial Day and Labor day -- more cookouts and picnics, but Washington's Birthday? Lazy day. It's the dead of winter so no cookouts or football. There's nothing to really celebrate (okay, okay, he was the first president of the US, but don't we already have an Independence Day? Yes -- see above)... it's a free day. That's why so many schools and businesses use it as the sacrificial holiday and hold school or stay open for business and instead give the Friday after Thanksgiving off.

But for us government worker bees it's a Monday off so we have a spare day to get caught up.

Today, Les and I took Herman to get his nails trimmed...

I hate getting my nails trimmed. They try to break my feet off. I know that's what they're doing, I do.

Did some general errands (including getting Simon's blood drawn for allergy testing -- no pic, but he didn't like it for sure), then came back and put in some Grey's Anatomy and Les broke out her knitting.

Feo's knee is acting up, so she was happy with the set-up.

Lesley made me this blanket. It's my favorite blanket, but Al keeps it hidden away until I'm sick.

And Boogs, well, last night he antagonized a Corgi twice his size and established his role as Dictator Supreme.

Pardon me whilst I survey my realm. Ah yes. All is well.

All in all it was a great Washington's Birthday. ;) Probably the best I have ever had considering my dad is home now recovering from a successful triple bypass and will fully recover and be around for many years to come. Thanks for all the good thoughts and prayers!

Family

No long drawn out post this time. Just a picture and a request. Head over to my dad's blog (Art's Meanderings) and give him a cyber pat on the back for surviving his heart attack. He'll be having bypass in the next few days, but I have no doubts he'll do fine. He's my dad and I love him.

My dad, Art, and I on Casper Mountain.

Family photos...

...are usually un-fun, rarely get the whole "family," and usually end up with at least one member being less than happy about the whole situation.


Two guesses on who's not happy here. :)