tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11800629587271633642024-03-18T21:58:52.311-05:00Cat in the BuffA place where felines can sleep together. (I mean <i>really</i> sleep. Too drowsy for anything else.)
Look for pictures and other postings.
Please leave comments so I can match the scent of visitors.Firestarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10443450394148793162noreply@blogger.comBlogger169125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1180062958727163364.post-82806707836444503212010-02-27T07:22:00.003-06:002010-02-27T07:27:43.002-06:00You Gotta Get Up in the MorningIt's a heck of a morning. I'm sure Spouse and Son think so. You see, Firestar, our self-appointed alarm clock, has been of the mind that it is time for EVERYONE to be awake and active. Not just he and me. So for the past two hours he has been patrolling the hall outside the bedroom doors - and inside the master bedroom - calling revelry.<div><br /></div><div>Not so loud as a bugle, but just as annoying. Even to me sitting at the desk wide awake. Well, awake.</div><div><br /></div><div>Cats don't use a clock to tell time. It seems they use sunlight. And with the sun rising earlier and earlier each day his wake up call is coming earlier and earlier.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm not keen on moving clocks forward and backward, but I expect Spouse and Son can't wait for the clocks to jump ahead. So it's dark again at 6 a.m..</div><div><br /></div><div>Some days I can pick Firestar up, rub his head with my chin, set him on the rocking chair, and watch him go back to sleep. Not this morning. He's up and about.</div><div><br /></div><div>Most annoying. And I'm not even trying to sleep.</div><div><br /></div>Beviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04285435228657659873noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1180062958727163364.post-68292289571146596332010-02-10T08:49:00.003-06:002010-02-10T09:02:16.147-06:00Better Than CatnipWe don't get catnip toys for Firestar anymore. But don't think he's being deprived. There is another "toy" which he actually has been enjoying far more than he ever did his old catnip mouse.<br /><br />What's cool about this "toy" is that it's something we use on a regular basis ourselves. So not only does Firestar have a constant supply of something fun to play with, but we benefit directly from it, too. And it isn't tremendously pricey!<br /><br />Cool.<br /><br />So, what is this new toy?<br /><br />Dryer sheets.<br /><br />You know. Those scented things like look like thick tissue paper you put in the dryer to remove static electricity and provide a nice, fresh smell to the laundry.<br /><br />Well, Firestar goes nuts with them. He plays with them for hours. The only real problem is he doesn't let us throw them away. He hides them and we have to wait until he brings his entire stash out to play with. Then he has anywhere from two to six sheets he rolls around with. At that time we toss some, but always leave him with a stash to keep himself occupied. Having him chew on those instead of our hands and arms is much better.<br /><br />Playing with dryer sheets. <span style="font-weight: bold;">That's</span> how dull it can be in an apartment.<br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">.</span>Beviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04285435228657659873noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1180062958727163364.post-7688922166045694662010-02-05T07:50:00.002-06:002010-02-05T07:55:10.218-06:00Firestar EscapesYesterday, Firestar left the apartment on his own. I was bringing Son back from school and Spouse opened the door for us. That was the moment Firestar had been waiting for. He dashed around feet and into the hall. I saw him slip by and turned to go after him.<br /><br />No need. By the time I had even turned to see how far he had run he was stopping and dropping low. Apparently, the long hallway was an entirely unexpected occurrence. He wasn't sure what to make of it, but he was sure he didn't like it. He turned and slinked back into the apartment and jumped on the office chair next to mine. I came in and sniffed noses.<br /><br />He probably won't be doing that again. At least, not for a while. But some of his curiosity about what draws people out that door has been resolved. He must think we're nuts. What could we possibly be doing out there in that long hallway?<br /><br />I ask myself the same question every time I walk it.<br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);">.</span>Beviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04285435228657659873noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1180062958727163364.post-45357378913965688102010-02-04T12:12:00.004-06:002010-02-04T12:14:19.362-06:00Must Have Been the AftertasteHmm. Yesterday I posted how Firestar and I are buddies. I think he must have read the blog because I haven't seen him all morning. At least four hours.<br /><br />So much for the flavor of the month.<br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">.</span>Beviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04285435228657659873noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1180062958727163364.post-72919197881931960442010-02-03T17:46:00.002-06:002010-02-04T12:12:09.225-06:00True FriendsLooks like I'm flavor of the month again. Firestar has been keeping close today. Not all day, but for the past couple of hours anyway. I was out at the desktop computer and he came to sleep in the chair next to me. I got up to come to the bedroom while Son was (is) doing his music. Firestar came and lay down on the floor at my feet.<br /><br />It's difficult to explain fully, but to others who live with animals there is no need to explain at all. Having cats, dogs, birds, or whatever find one likeable is a wonderful feeling. It is probably one of the truest forms of friendship there is. When an animal accepts us, we know without question that it is accepting us for who we are and not because of any gain it gets. After all, they are not always friends with those who give them food.<br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">.</span>Beviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04285435228657659873noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1180062958727163364.post-5001730763459699032010-01-27T15:43:00.003-06:002010-01-27T15:47:40.838-06:00Cheshire FirestarToday is <a href="http://fairyhedgehog.blogspot.com/2010/01/rabbit-hole-day-today.html"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); font-weight: bold;">Rabbit Hole Day</span></span></a>. It honors Lewis Carrol, who wrote Alice in Wonderland.<br /><br />The big thing about Alice in Wonderland is the Cheshire Cat. The big, grinning, cat.<br /><br />But you know what? I got to thinking. I bet Firestar could produce a big, toothy smile, too. So I decided to give it a go. This is what I got.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8DB3u6xCN-Ahd5uoZaOe49_HSYSLQRjPtUet9kOP7WwX3wJvT4tSTMisyDVHkFAbIkRQwY6318MYktHbl0R5dyjRD6olXsPdSgkkdDXw7Pbeme8Dfug2Af5u77H7fP4QgEOJ7xXh28zQ/s1600-h/Cheshire+Firestar.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8DB3u6xCN-Ahd5uoZaOe49_HSYSLQRjPtUet9kOP7WwX3wJvT4tSTMisyDVHkFAbIkRQwY6318MYktHbl0R5dyjRD6olXsPdSgkkdDXw7Pbeme8Dfug2Af5u77H7fP4QgEOJ7xXh28zQ/s400/Cheshire+Firestar.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431539383416878562" border="0" /></a>Beviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04285435228657659873noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1180062958727163364.post-50566761906786993442010-01-03T19:29:00.005-06:002010-01-03T19:33:53.049-06:00It's Back to the Routine<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); font-weight: bold;">Happy New Year</span></span> everybody. I hope you made it through the holidays all right.<br /><br />With Son returning to school Firestar and I will be returning to our daily routine. He likes <span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">(sometimes)</span> to keep me close. When I go for a lay down he comes into the bedroom and lays near <span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">(without touching)</span>. When I wake and head back out to the desk he will follow and take the second chair, which is within arm's reach.<br /><br />This is our routine. And here is what Firestar looks like doing it.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeFKl_lW6iPu6M2BlL-GJpgg6SWOtgqNbyZxEHswl7PMDtQXwCRfDO0Ydeb090gIbZEhGZsA-UiVTgM-K1MIJQMJpE9At4RWHDtlZUmmHtPR2xrK9bbvzUdkbxADXu5VBS-acqLOY_PpQ/s1600-h/Firestar+Asleep+on+Office+Chair+1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeFKl_lW6iPu6M2BlL-GJpgg6SWOtgqNbyZxEHswl7PMDtQXwCRfDO0Ydeb090gIbZEhGZsA-UiVTgM-K1MIJQMJpE9At4RWHDtlZUmmHtPR2xrK9bbvzUdkbxADXu5VBS-acqLOY_PpQ/s400/Firestar+Asleep+on+Office+Chair+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422691554943753938" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">.</span>Beviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04285435228657659873noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1180062958727163364.post-64811187176079191932009-12-24T21:41:00.003-06:002009-12-24T21:42:25.268-06:00Merry ChristmasOn behalf of Firestar and myself I would like to wish everyone a very <span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); font-weight: bold;">Merry Christmas</span></span> - even if you don't adhere to the holiday. I hope it is a good time for you.Beviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04285435228657659873noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1180062958727163364.post-13391967343745732652009-11-30T13:35:00.001-06:002009-11-30T13:36:45.497-06:00Cat and BirdThere was a cat and there was a bird and they were friends that’s what I heard<br />The cat was grey and quite a fellow, the bird was flighty and painted yellow<br />The two would play around the yard and hit each other but not too hard<br />It was all in fun like friends should be and they sat together in a tree<br />At night the bird sat in its nest while the cat went in the house to rest<br />This friendship lasted through long days until days grew short and they parted ways<br />The bird the cat did never eat instead it savored the bird’s sweet tweet<br />Would that people could from them learn and be nice to each other in our turn<br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255);">.</span>Beviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04285435228657659873noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1180062958727163364.post-72892333859665819702009-11-19T10:09:00.003-06:002009-11-19T10:11:50.468-06:00Thoughts Behind the LooksSo I was holding Firestar this morning. He wanted to fight (play) and I didn't. So he didn't want to hang around me. I wanted to calm him down so he would quit biting so I didn't let him go right off. I just kept petting him until he actually did calm down. I was actually amazed he let me think it worked.<br /><br />When I let him go my nice clean shirt was covered in cat hair. I complained, telling him I had cat hair all over my chest. He looked at me with doleful eyes as if to say, "What are you bitching about? I have that all day every day, dummy."<br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255);">.</span>Beviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04285435228657659873noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1180062958727163364.post-202433582560527442009-11-17T11:31:00.004-06:002009-11-17T11:33:45.866-06:00The Cat's Tale WavingI am considering turning off access to this blog and shutting it down. Should make a decision by Thanksgiving. But even if the blog continues it is not unreasonable to think I will be making the decision again later.<br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255);">.</span>Beviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04285435228657659873noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1180062958727163364.post-14451275413432389712009-11-08T08:42:00.002-06:002009-11-08T08:42:59.853-06:00The CatThe cat was known as Firestar<br />He wandered here he wandered far<br />His teeth were sharp and he bit quite hard<br />Often he bit this timid bard<br /><br />But a cat is gentle a cat is soft<br />So when a cat stalks through the loft<br />Be sure to know it’s on patrol<br />To find something new is it’s only goal<br /><br />Things that move it’ll pounce upon<br />From late at night until early dawn<br />And if in bed too long you lie<br />The cat out of reach will loudly cry<br /><br />If cries don’t work it’ll jump on you<br />And getting up you have to do<br />And once you’re up the cat is gone<br />It’s running off but not for long<br /><br />For soon it steals its way back to bed<br />And lays down nearly where you put your head<br />It falls asleep as if to say<br />You sleep at night and I sleep at day<br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">.</span>Beviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04285435228657659873noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1180062958727163364.post-21894307944997624052009-10-11T12:21:00.003-05:002009-10-11T12:30:54.145-05:00Firestar's DiaryHello. It's Sunday<span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-style: italic;"> (I'm told)</span>. First or last day of the week, depending on your perspective. For myself - I don't care. My days are all pretty similar.<br /><br />Let me demonstrate.<br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-weight: bold;">5:00 a.m.</span> Sleeping on rocking chair. Bevie gets up and turns on light. How rude.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-weight: bold;">5:30 a.m.</span> Spouse gets up and wanders around making noise.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-weight: bold;">5:45 a.m.</span> Spouse leaves apartment. I now wander around meowing loudly. This is to get Bevie's attention.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-weight: bold;">6:00 a.m.</span> Sitting on chair beside Bevie. Every time Bevie's arm moves close I bite it. Not hard. Just enough to entice play.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-weight: bold;">6:15 a.m.</span> No play. Just back scratches. Not bad, but not what I wanted. Go to bedroom and sleep on Bevie's bed.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);">8:00 a.m.</span> Return to main room. Sleep on rocker.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);">9:00 a.m. </span>Son is up. Son comes to rocker and gets bit.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-weight: bold;">10:00 a.m.</span> In Son's room sleeping on Son's bed.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-weight: bold;">11:00 a.m.</span> Back in master bedroom sleeping on Bevie's bed.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-weight: bold;">12:15 p.m.</span> Fill out blog entry and return to bedroom. Sleeping on Bevie's bed.</span><br /><br />These busy days just wear me out.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 153);">.</span>Firestarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10443450394148793162noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1180062958727163364.post-51942134633905085992009-10-04T10:58:00.004-05:002009-10-04T11:13:42.776-05:00Here's FirestarNearly a month since anything has been posted here. Sorry. Posting to blogs isn't an easy thing to do right now.<br /><br />However, Firestar is still alive. Not going to say well because I think he's incredibly bored. Like Spouse and Son I think he was kind of excited to be in a new place. No stairs meant life was easier on his legs. But now he's discovered the other side of that coin. There aren't any windows to speak of. Two. One in each bedroom. And then there is the sliding door which leads to the deck. But there are no rabbits and few birds. And Firestar seems to find people watching a dull activity.<br /><br />So, he walks around the place crying out for something to do. Son will toss his toy for a while, but Son is also bored about the place. But circumstances have allowed for Firestar to find a few creative outlets.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255); font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;">Hide and Seek is a game Firestar enjoys. This is a throw rug in the foyer just outside the kitchen area. With no windows to speak of the place is quite dark and we have to have lights on even at noon. I had to lighten up this image so I could see it on my dark monitor. Hope it isn't too much for those of you with newer monitors. This is where Firestar lays when any of us returns to the apartment after leaving him alone.</span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyfmK_kGZkHkDo6f8IHmP-O1U06I_rempQS-A20J98WRhlC22p4e71hS6S6f8auzpsEQGmi6k5X8681Y2yZYEpPdNiOI1pH_iwmy2Cc4db824BJn3ZnJZHSvtoAsc08npEYT1DyuL49Qo/s1600-h/Under+the+Rug.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyfmK_kGZkHkDo6f8IHmP-O1U06I_rempQS-A20J98WRhlC22p4e71hS6S6f8auzpsEQGmi6k5X8681Y2yZYEpPdNiOI1pH_iwmy2Cc4db824BJn3ZnJZHSvtoAsc08npEYT1DyuL49Qo/s400/Under+the+Rug.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388775271325451858" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0); font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;">King of the Mountain is a newer game Firestar's discovered. He jumps from box to box until he can nearly touch the ceiling. He's even taken to sleeping up there. That's a unicorn bedspread he's sitting on. You can't see the unicorn because it got reversed when Son did a reconassaince through boxes in search of a specific hat.</span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ4iuhoxhLVC-54Vnt2l0PA2xZvEowtiqALOiWVCZok9Ub4pix0-aeJqBDdQ63XwtlbWeRdcurIWzP8qXv2FGCRvSWLpuJNxJ2rLADC8Yan_X86MontokZqJ2X8jsi0o9wRWxe4j0SWbs/s1600-h/King+of+the+Mountain.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ4iuhoxhLVC-54Vnt2l0PA2xZvEowtiqALOiWVCZok9Ub4pix0-aeJqBDdQ63XwtlbWeRdcurIWzP8qXv2FGCRvSWLpuJNxJ2rLADC8Yan_X86MontokZqJ2X8jsi0o9wRWxe4j0SWbs/s400/King+of+the+Mountain.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388775163226510242" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;">Not sure what he's looking at. There's nothing there but the ceiling. Maybe he's praying we can find a different place to live. A prayer I share.</span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji-8TexsKQeEhzzPDMwSt58uokMQMsA-Jo1wPkjGXqKi_eS89IGRtEIMWpXeuuF9XiCeGbnNRoFSjIPR6SoKqC2GsyPX5kwmAP_iQQIIO-MyYXLSJ3JdQbvA1IJQPRWkhugz-WXKjcVec/s1600-h/I+Lift+Up+Mine+Eyes+to+the+Heavens.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji-8TexsKQeEhzzPDMwSt58uokMQMsA-Jo1wPkjGXqKi_eS89IGRtEIMWpXeuuF9XiCeGbnNRoFSjIPR6SoKqC2GsyPX5kwmAP_iQQIIO-MyYXLSJ3JdQbvA1IJQPRWkhugz-WXKjcVec/s400/I+Lift+Up+Mine+Eyes+to+the+Heavens.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388775021075076978" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 153);">.</span>Beviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04285435228657659873noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1180062958727163364.post-40406009978944534362009-09-05T16:46:00.011-05:002009-09-05T17:22:45.137-05:00Temporary ShelterSo, it has been about a month since the last post on this blog. We haven't disappeared entirely, although it might seem like it. Life just isn't filled with a lot of happiness at the moment. Of course we are aware of others who are suffering far worse than ourselves, so that our approach to our own unhappiness seems even petty. But there it is. It's all we've got.<br /><br />Not a lot to say. Just felt I should let those who might be interested know we are still alive and as well as we can be at the moment. Still waiting for that rainbow to shine a pot of gold upon us. Maybe tonight, right?<br /><br />It hasn't all been unpleasant. In fact, I believe I can honestly state that of the four of us <span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">(myself, Spouse, Son, Firestar)</span> there is one who is still happy about the move. Spouse and Son were excited - until we actually arrived. They've changed their tunes <span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">(as I knew they would)</span>.<br /><br />But Firestar is happier, or seems to be most of the time. I think I know why. Stairs. He doesn't have to navigate any now.<br /><br />The house was five levels, and we spent most of our time on levels one and three <span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">(with one being the highest floor)</span>. Firestar's personal bathroom <span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">(litter box)</span> was on level four and his food was on level three. He liked to sleep on our bed, which was level one, and he liked to watch the rabbits from ground floor, which was level four. So, here is a typical day in the life of a cat in a five floor house.<br /><br />Wake up on level one and go down thirteen steps to level two. Go down four steps to level three. Go down thirteen steps to level four. Use the litter box. Come back up thirteen steps to level three and get something to eat and drink. Go bother Bevie at the computer. Go back up four steps to level three. Go back up thirteen steps to level one and take Bevie's place on the bed. Repeat this scenario several times during the day.<br /><br />Here at the apartment/flat there are three rooms. The living room is nearly filled with boxes, two office chairs, some banquet tables, a glider rocker, a treadmill <span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">(which won't work at the apartment)</span>, and a desk. There is a two foot wide path allowing passage from the kitchen to the sliding doors.<br /><br />Son's room has no space for walking. His mattress takes up the room's center, his dresser one corner, his book shelves an entire wall, and his saxophone and tuba another corner.<br /><br />The master bedroom actually has the most open floor space, but no wall space. Boxes have been stack too high.<br /><br />So, Firestar never has to go very far at all before he has reached the end of how far he can go and has to turn around. We have the same problem, but it doesn't seem to bother him as much it does us. Even so, I think he misses the rabbits. And he has been going stir crazy more often this past week. Perhaps the novelty of living in a different place is wearing off for him, too.<br /><br />For your <span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">(possible)</span> enjoyment/amusement, here are some pictures Son and I took at our current place of residence.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold; font-family: arial;">Son doing his daily exercise under Firestar's intense tutelage. </span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold; font-family: arial;">Actually, this becomes my sanctuary to escape snores in the middle of the night.</span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY7omoqdHHAHL-J3X2tGn4gISLcjdWZmQLhtwHXY0qbMHn_2eqB6NSZHcdaNT4hLuJRFF4Ol_sqZ478X3uRgzmzvXen7hxziSCa6T_usxaklU4ubrSTpur5usGo2Zy3Ldnhb0WpWSWVrs/s1600-h/Exercising.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY7omoqdHHAHL-J3X2tGn4gISLcjdWZmQLhtwHXY0qbMHn_2eqB6NSZHcdaNT4hLuJRFF4Ol_sqZ478X3uRgzmzvXen7hxziSCa6T_usxaklU4ubrSTpur5usGo2Zy3Ldnhb0WpWSWVrs/s400/Exercising.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378108034639037954" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold; font-family: arial;">Firestar after one of his campouts.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold; font-family: arial;">Actually, Firestar has a penchant for crawling into sleeping bags, under blankets and towels, and going to sleep.</span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKvB4lrForVcfTF4QQXPrEpeBoKv3J_AnI2IxHtEzzaK2NSAlfDSOXZtA7Lnfaj9VNvy8pzW5tqqQ4dPONzaRuCHaleZ-Vh5JT7ZWuC2ADrovvPKgR2ZadVN1_ET_dwIPsuh5g2LA5fEs/s1600-h/Time+to+Get+Up+Already.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKvB4lrForVcfTF4QQXPrEpeBoKv3J_AnI2IxHtEzzaK2NSAlfDSOXZtA7Lnfaj9VNvy8pzW5tqqQ4dPONzaRuCHaleZ-Vh5JT7ZWuC2ADrovvPKgR2ZadVN1_ET_dwIPsuh5g2LA5fEs/s400/Time+to+Get+Up+Already.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378107969049635730" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold; font-family: arial;">Another good idea shelved.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold; font-family: arial;">This is one of two desktop shelf units I used at the house. After this picture was taken the shelf units were both moved and now I haven't a clue where they are - beyond some place in the apartment.</span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYhKfWXW8RbJI0IhLIAZdasiT3aL-Vo14YmO6e_Dnd-JB3O14afoR8UaxIlXh83x2BYJg2WLBm9Kobpfos1bJbAJvSPrjOkk_sIVb321mvYFLstKOHyRhLmAVp6vFADvmo71nJUWOyXY8/s1600-h/Shelve+It.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYhKfWXW8RbJI0IhLIAZdasiT3aL-Vo14YmO6e_Dnd-JB3O14afoR8UaxIlXh83x2BYJg2WLBm9Kobpfos1bJbAJvSPrjOkk_sIVb321mvYFLstKOHyRhLmAVp6vFADvmo71nJUWOyXY8/s400/Shelve+It.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378107903258600002" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold; font-family: arial;">Local friends having a quiet chat.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold; font-family: arial;">When we first arrived there was a flock of swallows who were convinced our deck belonged to them. Haven't seen them now in more than a week.</span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEildWt1ZBgyePXTlsoTDY2vRVgkJiceLT3ESWJqd286ZUhQCWVHF2_QGJM5jcjtgZZvHfd8wOwlSUNeSvKI7aZYonN1UfH9TDAXaRXo0_0T8BwjodXyiD2Mws8DH5h9YAAMirvD5JdUMnc/s1600-h/Local+Friends.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEildWt1ZBgyePXTlsoTDY2vRVgkJiceLT3ESWJqd286ZUhQCWVHF2_QGJM5jcjtgZZvHfd8wOwlSUNeSvKI7aZYonN1UfH9TDAXaRXo0_0T8BwjodXyiD2Mws8DH5h9YAAMirvD5JdUMnc/s400/Local+Friends.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378107718693769106" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold; font-family: arial;">Reflections of a cat's life.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold; font-family: arial;">This was taken from the deck. Firestar is in Son's room looking out. The glass is reflecting the pool area and parking lot below.</span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNLfmC9V4d2yKVYYW6vcG1QMxKeb1lKLB06AN0hvF_3PiY10e41Nyj-P6LEGd7N9p20vmrE2oSNa0qJ3aTatkyayl8UIjC48hNZrG8ltvH-2QKy7EfGBORIDcrXNAjvvR5em8aQbDqfig/s1600-h/Firestar+Reflection.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNLfmC9V4d2yKVYYW6vcG1QMxKeb1lKLB06AN0hvF_3PiY10e41Nyj-P6LEGd7N9p20vmrE2oSNa0qJ3aTatkyayl8UIjC48hNZrG8ltvH-2QKy7EfGBORIDcrXNAjvvR5em8aQbDqfig/s400/Firestar+Reflection.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378107657343472434" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold; font-family: arial;">It isn't home and it isn't sweet, but this is where we live now.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold; font-family: arial;">It's a corner apartment, so the first two windows from the deck are Son's room and the master bedroom. The air condioning box on the wall has to cool off the entire apartment. That's all right this year because it's been so cool. My plastic white rocker, which is older than Son, is finally cracking apart. But I kept it anyway. It's one of the more comfortable chairs we have. We can't keep windows open long because absolutely everyone around us smokes and the smell congregates in that corner. Son actually gets sick and has to go back inside. I grew up around cigarette smoke, so it's only a nuisance for me.</span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiLZQNfWyXWdvjzzTpORPG0IN-wQm3sP_xk7oVRFQy8HVSG-4fRkkgKS6667fSCIBrHhHKx5TNJ4R0e04Z7JGQeyEX9UnHvGQZfzfXSZyRS32dLXEoIBwm5cH75VEOZv2Z1umrwhoHibQ/s1600-h/Corner+Apartment.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiLZQNfWyXWdvjzzTpORPG0IN-wQm3sP_xk7oVRFQy8HVSG-4fRkkgKS6667fSCIBrHhHKx5TNJ4R0e04Z7JGQeyEX9UnHvGQZfzfXSZyRS32dLXEoIBwm5cH75VEOZv2Z1umrwhoHibQ/s400/Corner+Apartment.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378107528328905282" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold; font-family: arial;">What a bath tub!</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold; font-family: arial;">Actually, it's our pool area, shared with about one hundred other units. The sign claims forty people can be in there. Maybe. If they're all leprechans. For normal sized people, though, I would say ten to twenty is max. And on the best days that is about how many are in there. Son and I had it to ourselves one day - when it wasn't too cold.</span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6344eZ2j6nkNVZ7z8wft5H968qLMsKXz72Rd9-1Gvr-9tyh1qkdLupTXSNlmfuhGwsKhOWwPap_EaDYh94PDq06tBylBD-JD74t5ZKmExfkNB04UlkrEUa7LJ3KXfX5soYkYUTrAwuU8/s1600-h/Pool+Area.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6344eZ2j6nkNVZ7z8wft5H968qLMsKXz72Rd9-1Gvr-9tyh1qkdLupTXSNlmfuhGwsKhOWwPap_EaDYh94PDq06tBylBD-JD74t5ZKmExfkNB04UlkrEUa7LJ3KXfX5soYkYUTrAwuU8/s400/Pool+Area.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378107457332799906" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold; font-family: arial;">A symbolic end to a day and an era.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold; font-family: arial;">This was taken by Son from our deck, which faces west. It wasn't the prettiest sunset we've had, but it was nice. We're out of the house now, and unless it starts to rain money down upon us we will probably never again see the inside of one we call home. I must say, none of this makes any sense to me. But then I've always been thick.</span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7CsdC11wUozuOHLDAUVavgEid7muOOSOVB5wA-yYnhyphenhyphenn_cF15WO_x8fRiLXpuyNGPJTbkuJD8Ig2wDeQ5mymAQN4yhI3lfE-qhIcDrca9j3qGljKzQ7WfpDhHxDVkg4kkVK87QVyKNxw/s1600-h/Evening+Sky.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7CsdC11wUozuOHLDAUVavgEid7muOOSOVB5wA-yYnhyphenhyphenn_cF15WO_x8fRiLXpuyNGPJTbkuJD8Ig2wDeQ5mymAQN4yhI3lfE-qhIcDrca9j3qGljKzQ7WfpDhHxDVkg4kkVK87QVyKNxw/s400/Evening+Sky.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378107261717975250" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 153);">.</span>Beviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04285435228657659873noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1180062958727163364.post-56706107273338452982009-08-31T23:59:00.000-05:002009-08-02T06:37:44.073-05:00Comments for August Kitten of the MonthBeviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04285435228657659873noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1180062958727163364.post-87733171883166197302009-08-07T13:20:00.003-05:002009-08-07T13:36:30.325-05:00Shut DownI apologize up front for this post's connection to cats is at best - remote. Stretched like cat gut harp strings. <span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">(I've played harp strung with cat gut.)</span><br /><br />The past month or two I have often neglected this blog in favor of other things, and for that I also apologize. But now I am taking something of a forced sabbatical. I will be offline for a time. Any time from a day to infinity. Chances are it will only be for a few days, but there are no guarantees. So I want to take this opportunity to thank you cats, and cat lovers, for your visits and your comments.<br /><br />Check every few days to see if anything new has been posted. If September arrives and you still haven't seen anything new you will know things have gone poorly. There are two more days for me to post, but I'm not sure I will on this blog. My mind is a bit stressed right now.<br /><br />So, if you will, play the following YouTube link and sing along. This is what I'm listening to at the moment and this is how I'm feeling. You take care now, you hear?<br /><br />Meow.<br /><br />You tell 'em, Firestar.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-family: arial;">Everytime that I look in the mirror</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-family: arial;">All these lines on my face gettin clearer</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-family: arial;">The past is gone</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-family: arial;">It went by like dust to dawn</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-family: arial;">Isnt that the way</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-family: arial;">Everybodys got their dues in life to pay</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-family: arial;">I know what nobody knows</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-family: arial;">Where it comes and where it goes</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-family: arial;">I know everybodys sins</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-family: arial;">You got to lose to know how to win</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-family: arial;">Half my life's in books written pages</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-family: arial;">Live and learn from fools and from sages</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-family: arial;">You know its true</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-family: arial;">All the things come back to you</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-family: arial;">Sing with me, sing for the years</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-family: arial;">Sing for the laughter, sing for the tears</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-family: arial;">Sing with me, if its just for today</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-family: arial;">Maybe tomorrow the good lord will take you away</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-family: arial;">(x2)</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-family: arial;">Dream on, dream on</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-family: arial;">Dream yourself a dream come true</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-family: arial;">Dream on, dream on</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-family: arial;">Dream until your dream come true</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-family: arial;">Dream on, dream on, dream on...</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-family: arial;">Sing with me, sing for the years</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-family: arial;">Sing for the laughter and sing for the tears</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-family: arial;">Sing with me, if its just for today</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-family: arial;">Maybe tomorrow the good lord will take you away</span><br /><br /><br /><object width="445" height="364"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/BYojs78Tf9Y&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6&border=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/BYojs78Tf9Y&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object>Beviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04285435228657659873noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1180062958727163364.post-33112210742889349352009-08-02T06:36:00.002-05:002009-08-02T06:37:18.616-05:00New Kitten of the MonthSorry I am late with this, but we have a new Kitten of the Month. She's a cute and shy little one named Tara.Beviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04285435228657659873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1180062958727163364.post-8182290661973103392009-07-31T23:59:00.000-05:002009-07-04T05:00:27.692-05:00Comments for July Kitten of the MonthBeviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04285435228657659873noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1180062958727163364.post-61006823982771150372009-07-29T14:28:00.000-05:002009-07-29T14:29:06.199-05:00CatsThe cat would walk around the house and meow at this or that<br /><br />It rubbed its head on legs and chairs, because it was a cat<br /><br />The cat would jump on window sills and stare out at the birds<br /><br />And when a human called its name, it feigned it had not heard<br /><br />At times the cat would sit on laps, and purr loudly half asleep<br /><br />Other times the cat restlessly, about the house did leap<br /><br />Aloof, alone, the cat did roam, and own the house it walked<br /><br />And the looks it gave when spoken of, showed it knew of human talk<br /><br />The cat comes not at request of others, for that it does ignore<br /><br />Obeying others is not its way, what an unpleasant chore<br /><br />But be interested in something else, and soon the cat is there<br /><br />Demanding your attention, to show it that you care<br /><br />Some do not care for cats at all, they hate the cat’s strong will<br /><br />They do not comprehend the fact, that cats and love us still<br /><br />We need not cat’s compliance, nor need them to obey<br /><br />They need not come because we ask, nor remain when we say “stay”<br /><br />A cat need not be else but what a cat can only be<br /><br />A creature loving as ourselves, who just needs to be free<br /><br />And so when a cat will come to me, because it wants my touch<br /><br />That a cat should want my touch, you see, means to me oh so muchBeviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04285435228657659873noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1180062958727163364.post-13747938246581538602009-07-20T08:39:00.004-05:002009-07-20T08:54:32.022-05:00Culture Lesson - Class #1017Just checked my email for the first time in weeks. Apparently I have won a lot of money. Now what's a cat supposed to do with money? Money's for humans. Now there was something about male enhancement, but Bevie deleted it before I could read what it was all about. I had kind of been hoping it was a way to reverse that trip to the vet I had a year or so ago. Now I'll never know. Humans.<br /><br />Anyway, we have not had any real culture here in a while so I thought I would return to our lessons.<br /><br />The information for this post has been taken from this <a style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 0, 204); font-weight: bold;" href="http://pets.iloveindia.com/cats/cat-breed/index.html">site</a>.<br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); font-weight: bold;">Cymric</span> </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnBlMW2BoXTaES0uuJgMRla-UQSSL7bwyxIn8sFRxkz6f08OYpEpyVfERSxnQU3_Ej2D1frpxjr9JG1yavuJCnlYlSgq9o2KImDLgT_w1PFYVfQT6TfWuCxB8-RxVFrFliXzsBHrAg2Vtx/s1600-h/Cymric+larger.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 178px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnBlMW2BoXTaES0uuJgMRla-UQSSL7bwyxIn8sFRxkz6f08OYpEpyVfERSxnQU3_Ej2D1frpxjr9JG1yavuJCnlYlSgq9o2KImDLgT_w1PFYVfQT6TfWuCxB8-RxVFrFliXzsBHrAg2Vtx/s400/Cymric+larger.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360539216419626946" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-family:arial;" >(picture taken from this <a href="http://images.google.com/images?hl=en&q=cymric+images&um=1&ie=UTF-8&ei=bHVkSuySOIWGNrTujfgB&sa=X&oi=image_result_group&ct=title&resnum=1">site</a>)</span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-family:verdana;" >The Cymric is a breed of long haired cat. They are often considered to be a </span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-family:verdana;" >long haired variety of the Manx breed of cats rather than being considered a completely distinct breed. In fact except for the long hair traits of cymric, both the breeds are similar to each other in all aspects. The word Cymru from which this name Cymric is derived is the indigenous Welsh name of Wales, though this is a myth that this breed of cat has any relation with the Welsh, the origin of cat is related to the successor of Manx Cats from the Isle of Man. Though most of the cat associations believe Cymric to be an original breed, the TICA and ACF regard it as a variety of the Manx.</span> <span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" ><br /><br />History</span> <span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-family:verdana;" ><br />Though the official acceptance of Cymric as a breed is a very recent phenomenon, the breed has existed on this earth for a long time. Their origin is traced back to the Isle of Man, an island located in the Irish Sea between England and Ireland where it is said to be introduced by human settlers and explorers. Cymric was earlier known to be Longhaired Manx, its name was later changed to be the name was changed to Cymric in 1970s.</span> <span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-family:verdana;" >According to the records of the island, the special trait of taillessness in Cymric began as a mutation amongst Isle of Man's domestic cat population. As there is not much scope of varied gene pool in this small island, this trait became dominant and was passes from one generation to other along with the long hair genes. Many long haired tailless kittens were born from Manx but were often discarded as mutants. However, when the same kinds of kitten were born in Canada in 1960, they were treated with much respect and some time later recognized as a breed.</span> <span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" ><br /><br />Appearance</span> <span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-family:verdana;" ><br />The Cymric cat is identified as a tailless furry cat with a round head and full eyes. It is compressed and chubby in appearance. It has a short and thick neck over a mall to medium-sized muscular body. Adult males of Cymric breed weigh 9 to 13 pounds; adult female cats weigh 7 to 11 pounds. The ears of Cymric cat are medium-sized and widely spaced, narrowing gradually to a rounded tip.</span> <span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-family:verdana;" >The hair of Cymric cat is mid length and dense over the main body adding more to its chubby appearance. The hair gradually grows from shoulders to rump. The hair on the abdomen and neck ruff is usually longer than that on the main body. The cheeks of Cymric cats are thick and full and its facial hair extends towards its cheeks like bib. This cat breed has impressive tufts.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Personality</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-family:verdana;" >Cymric cats are intelligent, funny and are friendly with other pet animals. They are impressive learners and are very soft and non-fussy in nature. They are very obedient and loyal to their owners. Cymrics very quickly bond with their human companions. They love cuddling and lap swinging. Some of the Cymric cats' owners describe them as cute as teddy bears. Though they love company, they are usually not overly demanding of attention. They love water and love playing with it, however do not assume they love bathing. They are moderately active and playful.</span><br /><br />Intelligent cats. Isn't that kind of redundant?<br /><br />Obedient? What nonsense is this? Just who are they obeying? Other cats? Well, that would make sense. Loyal to owners. Nobody owns a cat.<br /><br />Lap dance cats, huh? Now I really wish I had been given a chance to read that email.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 153);">.</span>Firestarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10443450394148793162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1180062958727163364.post-87801108035224464282009-07-13T06:17:00.003-05:002009-07-13T06:23:42.839-05:00Don't Talk With Your Mouth FullIt has taken weeks, even months, to get this picture, and I didn't even get a good one. Had to snap it quickly, before the moment was lost.<br /><br />I think Firestar gets nostalgic at times. I will hear him cry - almost whimper. Then, he will show up with his favorite toy in his mouth, as though wanting someone to throw it. Back when he was a kitten, he and Son would play catch for long periods. Son would toss the toy across the room and Firestar would chase it, sometimes catching it in the air. Then he would bring it back to repeat the process.<br /><br />He will still chase the toy - sometimes. But never catches it and never, ever brings it back anymore. But every so often - particularly if someone has just left the house - he will carry his toy around the house and cry. I've tried several times to get a picture of it, but once he sees me he drops the toy, and it will be days before he picks it up again. Yesterday, right after Spouse left for work, he brought his toy downstairs. He got distracted by movement outside the dining room door and that gave me time to get the camera. Didn't have time to wait for it to focus. He was realizing I saw him and I had to snap the picture. This is what I got.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZLrYmwJNhFzVrsDtTfAXQVh6Snbanfq4NqaV2hbpIOnTuyWCVh-uCziIARUWP6TwzYQ3Jut_1fWgjbVwjsNocjx-K6Zrh3uwlF7Clg4Wq76XYS_qBnkh-3i0NWGcrz2iA2O9UNqgZ1Pw/s1600-h/Toy+in+Mouth+small.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZLrYmwJNhFzVrsDtTfAXQVh6Snbanfq4NqaV2hbpIOnTuyWCVh-uCziIARUWP6TwzYQ3Jut_1fWgjbVwjsNocjx-K6Zrh3uwlF7Clg4Wq76XYS_qBnkh-3i0NWGcrz2iA2O9UNqgZ1Pw/s400/Toy+in+Mouth+small.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357903569135762066" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 153);">.</span>Beviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04285435228657659873noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1180062958727163364.post-76072330763516331432009-07-12T07:48:00.014-05:002009-07-12T08:57:23.031-05:00Firestar: Lion-Cat of the North<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRryOUXw1yPiAEEA_8hPS_lNnmmnq-jPO8J6eDVMY12ovBz8IpC59GH0pgy2ttigRr415t8wBEXQ0ORysDLFU73wY8RgHT8lQyPbeVeGpnYGxeKHM7wSVacpPKIf4AZYHDMft67KgbuL7p/s1600-h/Opening+Frame.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRryOUXw1yPiAEEA_8hPS_lNnmmnq-jPO8J6eDVMY12ovBz8IpC59GH0pgy2ttigRr415t8wBEXQ0ORysDLFU73wY8RgHT8lQyPbeVeGpnYGxeKHM7wSVacpPKIf4AZYHDMft67KgbuL7p/s400/Opening+Frame.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357568647870527458" border="0" /></a>=================================================<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnUUMm9PA1ViilzHoihpWZF1wCYpHDQFW8dVHqqJkdhQEskwoY6eOOnNnZ1g5xz3RDx0iHSZWzrIyPQegpi9b0KEoRfZybbO8fQx0cuKGzT60_zp-iSPrcriCZ48uG7bfT2JOnkpQ09aQX/s1600-h/Episode+1+Frame+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 285px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnUUMm9PA1ViilzHoihpWZF1wCYpHDQFW8dVHqqJkdhQEskwoY6eOOnNnZ1g5xz3RDx0iHSZWzrIyPQegpi9b0KEoRfZybbO8fQx0cuKGzT60_zp-iSPrcriCZ48uG7bfT2JOnkpQ09aQX/s400/Episode+1+Frame+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357568556409733058" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;">Look into my eyes and come to me, you who have entered my lair.<br /><br />You are under the power of my will.<br /><br />I control your actions. Your very thoughts. I am -<br /><br />Your Master!<br /><br />Do remember that. Okay?<br /></span>=================================================<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVS1pY5Fi422Qm00D3a3KHRWZr8qL3M-Ut9Y3LtxgvR52RdeK1gxKOsj4EYTL1WJx3rhS8abLBvlhCiDwU-06AJ2KIdlTGRYf9R08rW-AEMMNpW0F2dP7n1zKtwLLQ1tN0oRBX5pA-hLWK/s1600-h/Episode+1+Frame+3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 249px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVS1pY5Fi422Qm00D3a3KHRWZr8qL3M-Ut9Y3LtxgvR52RdeK1gxKOsj4EYTL1WJx3rhS8abLBvlhCiDwU-06AJ2KIdlTGRYf9R08rW-AEMMNpW0F2dP7n1zKtwLLQ1tN0oRBX5pA-hLWK/s400/Episode+1+Frame+3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357568266406779090" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;">Inasmuch as a certain human, who shall remain nameless <span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);">(but who's name rhymes with "heavy")</span> believes himself to be a writer, I have endeavored to undertake my own foray into the world of words.<br /><br />To put it simply: I am going to write a story.<br /><br />A cat story.<br /><br />About me.<br /></span>=================================================<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQhEaVgPzONPc9fXzOcbQBOKFR9hqMXbQ9Kj2vBqRuxpzH8yPcKePTENBzEphvFFcfKIp8jJO33CBf4-DoJsfrExd2A6uHYacd_pVxJyYnkkiNz8mjqnv7Vt9-u7SefTu2KbYNYzhsq8DD/s1600-h/Episode+1+Frame+4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 205px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQhEaVgPzONPc9fXzOcbQBOKFR9hqMXbQ9Kj2vBqRuxpzH8yPcKePTENBzEphvFFcfKIp8jJO33CBf4-DoJsfrExd2A6uHYacd_pVxJyYnkkiNz8mjqnv7Vt9-u7SefTu2KbYNYzhsq8DD/s400/Episode+1+Frame+4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357567989433850210" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;">I began life as a kitten, but I quickly advanced to the major activities of an adult cat.<br /><br />I majored in rest and sleep. Everyone knows you can't do great things unless you get plenty of rest. And food. And rest.<br /><br />And so it was that I was engaged in a period of much needed relaxation.<br /><br />And I dreamed.<br /></span>=================================================<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtWng4tQmvm65X9RPvwjoRKQGhgDTWUUy6RexOiZ66ubb-jrQesp157oPJll2OjnPxWraxo9ZzpctB0Frue_VbE73zoz2s2YHajY6oDB_wfwctOstrOxsWkKhDSO81xoOXyDfv1pEdPC5u/s1600-h/Episode+1+Frame+5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 115px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtWng4tQmvm65X9RPvwjoRKQGhgDTWUUy6RexOiZ66ubb-jrQesp157oPJll2OjnPxWraxo9ZzpctB0Frue_VbE73zoz2s2YHajY6oDB_wfwctOstrOxsWkKhDSO81xoOXyDfv1pEdPC5u/s400/Episode+1+Frame+5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357567699684382562" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;">I was stalking my prey from the shadows. <span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);">(I was in the shadows. Not my prey. Well, it was kind of in the shadows, too, but I was the one really in the shadows. I was a black terror in the night.)</span><br /><br />Making a game of it, I allowed my prey to run, chasing in order to maintain the flight-pursuit game, but not trying hard enough to end the game too soon.<br /><br />Cats are so cool!<br /></span>=================================================<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkiqgzrXTzcpbAO_6kHryFY3qmyWX9FTUGhLT1Uj8PlzzAMNyU83u8mq4L3dLj5d4YkSrGM_785tn9WfQvB_jQsP7pAV0IKPLaUGjx2tktbgspVqKLgZ6dMaLWIGzdkga7OVgMTYWQaziD/s1600-h/Episode+1+Frame+6.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkiqgzrXTzcpbAO_6kHryFY3qmyWX9FTUGhLT1Uj8PlzzAMNyU83u8mq4L3dLj5d4YkSrGM_785tn9WfQvB_jQsP7pAV0IKPLaUGjx2tktbgspVqKLgZ6dMaLWIGzdkga7OVgMTYWQaziD/s400/Episode+1+Frame+6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357567051811054770" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;">Suddenly, I came upon an ancient artifact of old. <span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);">(Is that redundant?)</span><br /><br />It radiated power. It spoke.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >"An ordinary cat you shall be no more. Heneforth, you shall be known as: Lion-Cat."</span><br /><br />Cool!<br /></span>=================================================<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKk_RFWsi9X63YBuNgUCW3oV3geiOOhQizd_QK7hXcjUv748_t6G3QfoSRtDJDRouNFZBnYRQ3st90GSTVMWEhv5emoJzWcww77tbKvwA2m4XhPyNhmhU9h7Eqh6NUyQVu_y1kEtG458eD/s1600-h/Episode+1+Frame+7.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKk_RFWsi9X63YBuNgUCW3oV3geiOOhQizd_QK7hXcjUv748_t6G3QfoSRtDJDRouNFZBnYRQ3st90GSTVMWEhv5emoJzWcww77tbKvwA2m4XhPyNhmhU9h7Eqh6NUyQVu_y1kEtG458eD/s400/Episode+1+Frame+7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357566775409202546" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;">And I was made anew, granted the power of the great Savannah cats. <span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);">(Not the city in Georgia - the African Savannah.)</span></span><br /><br />I grew apace in strength, knowledge, wisdom, and cunning.<br /><br />My new life as Firestar: Lion-Cat of the North, had begun.<br />=================================================<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk_6L3R8bxUWhnFfNzTR_oxWOnDDeAVPTMA35nVPbiGmVwxzqb1G-5v3ivPlUFqbgQu-DFhnfG4E1W6D9-zj4ByaDTIfyCHnzrAX0dJlicKmi7YVUae1mH6bmbK4y7dBdBflMrbjTWxr6s/s1600-h/End+Frame.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk_6L3R8bxUWhnFfNzTR_oxWOnDDeAVPTMA35nVPbiGmVwxzqb1G-5v3ivPlUFqbgQu-DFhnfG4E1W6D9-zj4ByaDTIfyCHnzrAX0dJlicKmi7YVUae1mH6bmbK4y7dBdBflMrbjTWxr6s/s400/End+Frame.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357566199969108914" border="0" /></a>=================================================<br /></div><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 153);">.</span>Firestarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10443450394148793162noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1180062958727163364.post-63117404040442664462009-07-10T13:03:00.001-05:002009-07-10T13:04:47.418-05:00Zoo UpdateDid a quick update on Firestar's Virtual Image Zoo. Added three (3) pictures of snow monkeys, nine (9) pictures of Kamchatka bears, and 16 pictures of wolverines.Beviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04285435228657659873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1180062958727163364.post-7409341514034858342009-07-05T07:07:00.003-05:002009-07-05T07:16:23.482-05:00Never Make a Cat JealousFirestar did something interesting yesterday. Well, he usually does interesting things. It's just that, often, one must be a cat to find them interesting. Staring, for instance. He likes to do that. I think he gets a kick out of us trying to figure out what he's thinking. Sometimes it's evident: he wants to bite something - someone. Sometimes it's also evident: he thinks were nuts. Most of the time it's a bit disconcerting.<br /><br />Anyway, Son came and told me this. He found it amusing and I thought I would pass it on.<br /><br />In typical fashion, Firestar decided to sucker punch Son while Son was watching television. This is one of Firestar's favorite games. It usually happens after staring for five or ten minutes. Firestar will rush foreward, whop <span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">(or bite) </span>Son and then take off. This time Son made pursuit.<br /><br />He found Firestar in his room, sitting on the bed. Son, deciding to "rub Firestar's nose", so to speak, picked up several plush animals and hugged them closely, telling Firestar how soft they were, and how cuddly, and how much he loved them. Finished, he arranged the plush animals on his bed and left. Before he did, though, he turned around to see what Firestar was doing. <span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-style: italic;">(It's never safe to turn your back on him for long.)</span><br /><br />Within the span of a few seconds Firestar had ravaged the stuffed animals and was calmly walking away as though he hadn't done it. He came to me, all innocent, seeking a back rub. Son followed and ratted him out. He's going to get you for that, Son. Oh. I suppose he's going to get me, too. I posted it on the blog.<br /><br />Oops.<br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 153);">.</span>Beviehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04285435228657659873noreply@blogger.com3