Tag Archives: clowder

Meet The Clowder

A few of my cats have made appearances in various posts, but it’s past time to introduce y’all to the whole clowder. So, here they are in all of their furry glory.

  • Name: Molly
  • Age: 16
  • Nicknames: Molly Mayhem, Molly Mae, Girlfriend
  • Notes: Molly is the sister of Desmond; they got their names from the Beatles’ song, Ob-La-Di.
  • Name: Nellie
  • Age: 14
  • Nicknames: Nelliekins, Nellie Girl, Miss Thang
  • Notes: Nellie is the last of our outdoor cats; she made her transition indoors almost a year ago and is doing well.
  • Name: Cricket
  • Age: 13
  • Nicknames: Beaver Butt, Brick, Baroness von Underbite
  • Notes: Cricket is probably the clowder member I worry about the most. She has feline herpes which manifests in her as respiratory issues. The poor girl sneezes constantly and always has a snotty nose. Steroid shots only help for a few days so we deal with it the best we can. As for her nicknames, Beaver Butt is due to the fact that she has a really thick tail. Brick comes from the character of the same name in the television show The Middle. (I love that show.) Brick has a verbal tic of saying “Whoop” and Cricket frequently makes a similar sound.
  • Names: Bob (r) and Tippy (l)
  • Ages: 11
  • Nicknames: Bob the Blob and Tippy Cat
  • Notes: We inherited Bob and Tippy when my dad died in 2016. They are my gaming buddies and insist on lying on my chest while I’m playing video games.
  • Name: Nyx
  • Age: 10
  • Nicknames: None
  • Notes: Nyx has adopted the kitchen as her territory. She’s fairly aloof unless we’re in the kitchen, then she comes in and weaves around our ankles and “talks” constantly. It’s not exactly a nickname, but we call her our house panther with kitchen specialization.
  • Name: Kota
  • Age: 9
  • Nicknames: Floofy Butt, Princess Floofy Britches
  • Notes: Kota’s name is an acronym which stands for Kitten of the Apocalypse. Kenn found her near the storm drain behind our old house and was upset that yet another cat had shown up. I said something to the effect of “Dude, it’s just a kitten. It’s not even the kitten of the apocalypse,” and it stuck.
  • Name: Bear
  • Age: 5
  • Nicknames: Old Man, Baby Bear
  • Notes: Bear has probably made the most appearances in my blog. He’s just an all-around cool guy.
  • Name: Roxie
  • Age: 2
  • Nicknames: Roxie Pants, Bunny Butt
  • Notes: Roxie’s biggest claim to fame is always looking shocked about everything. She also has the quietest meow of all the cats.

Do you have any pets? If so, what kind and how many?

Here We Go Again

Y’all know I love cats and that we’re a multi-cat family; a few of our furry kids make regular appearances here. However, y’all don’t know how we became a multiple cat family. It wasn’t by design and we’ve never gone to a shelter/animal rescue to adopt a cat. We haven’t had to; the cats find us. My family “blames” me; they say I have a “cat gene” that attracts cats. While it may not be due to a gene exactly, cats do like me and will frequently seek me out.

Meet Smokey

Kenn and I recently spent a couple of an hours at a nursery researching varieties of Japanese maples. Smokey, the cat shown above, belongs to the nursery owners. According to them, she’s an old lady who is half blind and hard of hearing. However, she could see well enough to spot me across the parking lot and make a beeline to me. She allowed me to pet her before she walked away only to come back for a little more attention. Much to Kenn’s dismay, she wouldn’t have anything to do with him, LOL. She also wouldn’t let me photograph her from the front.

For a while we were members of what we called “The Cat of the Year” club. Every year, usually in June or July, another cat would show up. I rescued a kitten in the church parking lot where it had apparently hitched a ride in the engine of someone’s car. We found another in the middle of a busy road – after straddling him with our car. Fortunately, our CotY membership seemed to expire after a few years. For now, we have an aging clowder with ages ranging from 3-14. Or, that was the age range until last week.

My coworker and I were in the woods getting dirt for a research project when she stopped and said, “Is that a cat?” I listened and yes, it was a cat – a kitten to be exact – and it was yelling for us. We both dropped our shovels and went searching. Not too far from where we were working I saw a small calico face peering out of the brush. It didn’t take too long to coax her to me.

Shortly after the rescue operation

The fact that this baby was friendly in spite of being terrified means one of two things: That section of the agricultural center isn’t far from a road, so she either wandered across the road, got through the fence and got lost or, someone dumped her. Either way, she knows people.

Kenn wasn’t working that day and since we live near the agricultural center, I called and asked him to bring a carrier which he did – all while grumbling about another cat. I assured him that I just wanted to take her to the vet to make sure she was okay and then find a home for her. While my coworker and I were waiting on Kenn to arrive, other coworkers wandered by. At least two said they would have just left her in the woods. Y’all, I am just not wired that way and neither is my co-rescuer. (She has already rescued two other kittens this year.) I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if I had left her in the woods.

Kenn and I took her to the vet the next day. She got a clean bill of health and her first kitten shots. The funny thing is, neither of us, not even Mr. Oh-no-not-another-kitten, have even talked about finding her another home. We just added her to our clowder. Yep, Kenn’s as big a sucker for a cat as I am even though he tries to hide it. So, everyone meet Roxie!

Roxie

Do you have any pets? If so, are any of them rescues?

Friday Funnies

At twelve years of age, Desmond (Dez for short) holds the rank of Old Man Cat in our clowder. If you look up ‘fraidy cat’ in the dictionary, you’ll probably find Dez’s picture. Even after being with us since he was approximately five weeks old, Dez is yet to be convinced that we don’t have some sort of nefarious plans for him. He has come out of his shell more since our move to The Cabin four years ago that I ever thought he would. I’m always glad when he decides to be personable and seeks attention – even when he forgets to pull in his tongue.