Tag Archives: rescued is the best breed

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?

Cat Math

In one of my last posts I wrote about the death of Marvin (one of our outdoor cats), my plans to move his sister indoors and stop leaving food out for animals passing by. (And how Kenn and I somehow completely reversed our normal positions on the topic of cats.)

As of this writing, Nellie (Marvin’s sister and our only remaining outdoor cat) is still outdoors and is ignoring all of my attempts to get her to try the cushy life of an indoor kitty. We also have at least four cats coming by to partake of our food on a regular basis. (We’re going through so much more food, LOL.) I was surprised that the presence of Marvin and Stumpie was such a deterrent as they were both neutered males. (Nellie is spayed as well so she is not luring in new cats with her feminine wiles, er, pheremones.)

Proof that anything can be found on the internet.

Since we now have regular feline visitors to whom we have never been properly introduced, we decided to come up with our own names for them. These names get used when we are talking to them (from whatever distance they will allow) which is one of the first steps in helping them learn they can trust us. Here are our regular visitors (for now):

  • Tiger – Tiger is one of the cats cared for by our elderly neighbors and is the only one who’s name we actually know. Confusion arises because Tiger is our Nellie’s doppelganger. I’ll think I’m talking to Nellie and only realize that it’s Tiger when s/he freaks out because I’m getting so close. Or, I think I’m talking to Tiger only to realize that it’s Nellie. (Tiger and Nellie are both silver tabbies.)
  • Crow – Crow is a handsome black cat. (I love cats of all shapes, sizes, and colors but have an extra big soft spot for black cats.) Kenn announced that he would be calling the black cat Crow or Calypso depending on if it were male or female. Crow rarely gets closer to us than ten feet which would have made the sex determination difficult if he had been neutered. However, even from ten feet away – with the right angle and lighting – it was easy to determine that Crow is an unneutered male. However, if we can ever get him socialized, this situation will be rectified.
  • Bruiser – Bruiser is an unneutered brown tabby with white feet. Bruiser made it a point to square off with Stumpie on a regular basis so I was forever running him off. Now that he’s not stirring up trouble I have no problem with him coming over but I’m probably going to have to work extra hard to earn his trust.
  • Ghost – Ghost, appropriately enough, is a gray cat and by far the most skittish of our new visitors. I have only seen Ghost twice. Both sightings were only glimpses of a gray blur disappearing across the back yard after I apparently scared the crap out of him/her by walking across the deck to the car port.

So, somehow losing two cats has resulted in gaining four. Cat math is weird. Sigh. Lucky for them, I’m a complete sucker for animals in need.

In Memoriam

Last week was one of those weeks. It started with our oldest son having a health scare which entailed us making a quick trip to South Carolina. Fortunately, our son is fine. After we got home, our over-the-range microwave died. While we were dealing with the replacement of the microwave, which was much more time-consuming than it should have been, it became obvious that it was time to say goodbye to one of our cats.

When we moved into our home almost 6 years ago, Stumpie was a feral cat. It didn’t take him long to learn that we had a steady supply of food and water for our outside cats and any other critters that wanted to partake. Stumpie became a regular fixture in our yard. He didn’t trust us and would run off if we got too close. Over time, he wouldn’t run as far. Then, he began trying to befriend our cats and was rewarded when Roscoe took him under his wing (leg?) and they became besties.

All this time, he was watching Kenn and I and saw us interact with the other cats. After 3 years, he decided to take a chance on trust and love and gave me the honor of selecting me as his person. He decided that he enjoyed being petted but didn’t want to see my hand during the process. So, when Stumpie would come to me for attention, he would turn his back to me so he could enjoy pets without seeing my hand.

Over the past couple of months, Stumpie had developed a problem that I knew would eventually lead to his demise. Last week, it was time to let him go. As I have done with all of my furbabies, I held him and told him how much I loved him as he left this world.

It’s hard going to a home that no longer has Stumpie in it. He’s no longer be there to greet me with his gravelly voice and weave between my ankles as I shower him with attention. He’s no longer there to escort me to the food dish and to carefully turn his back on me so I can pet him.

All pets leave a hole in our hearts when they pass, but for some that hole is a little bit larger. I miss you Stumpie. Home just isn’t the same without you.

Friday Funnies

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For the first time, Kenn planted a small garden this year. Some things didn’t do very well, but we did get a few bell peppers and the tomatoes are still coming in. However, we’ve learned the hard way that we can’t leave tomatoes sitting on the kitchen counter to finish ripening. Nyx, our black cat, has a weird obsession with them. Any tomato left unguarded will, at the very least, develop teeth marks – if it doesn’t completely disappear.

Earlier this week I showered while Kenn cooked supper. When I came downstairs to set the table, etc. he told me that he’d brought in three tomatoes. He turned his back for a minute and all three were gone. He managed to find two of them (one was in the garbage disposal) but one was still missing in action. I didn’t find the third one until I went downstairs to play video games. The remains of the third tomato were at the base of the stairs.

Our cats definitely keep life interesting, LOL!

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.