Last weekend we were able to get out and enjoy the sunny weather. We took Busy for a walk at Chambers Bay and the sun was just starting to set (at all of 3:30 in the afternoon). By the time we got to the half way point of our 2 1/2 mile walk we stopped and I snapped a few photos of Busy. Thought I’d share my pretty girl with you.
Life with a gigantic puppy is going along rather well. She now sleeps in her kennel all night long with little troubles and no accidents. The last straw to the kennel training was the 6 nights in a row waking up to let her out at 2 a.m. and finding poop everywhere or letting her out at 2 a.m. for her to not really do anything then come back into the house, let us get almost asleep and then having her come back in our room to indicate that she had indeed pooped all over the house. Kennel training was like ripping off a bandaid. We threw her in there (with a few toys and a blanket) shut the kennel door, shut the family room door and ignored her. The first night I got up and put her out at 3 a.m., but after that she’s gone the whole night without much of a fuss. Now she still has a tendency to pee on the boy’s carpet. The dog is basically not allowed anywhere near carpet anymore.
One cat has pretty much adjusted to the dog. The other cat can’t leave well enough alone and the dog has yet to learn. If Busy comes within 10 feet of Julius (aka dumb) he growls at the dog. No amount of growling, claws out swatting or cat dying screeching will deter this dog or the cat. The cat is now taking his frustrations out on us and scratched the trusty husband this evening. He is old and we are cutting him major slack, but if he does it again I’m throwing him out in the rain. That’ll learn em.
The boy-dog relationship is also improving, but there is still the cycle of hyper and screeching that drives me batshit crazy.
And now I’ve gone from the crazy cat lady to the crazy dog lady. Hey, I was just here to show you photos. YOU’RE the one that kept reading.
I run the risk of jumping the shark and being dubbed the crazy cat lady with this one, but I couldn’t resist.
She always seems to find the way to squeeze her fat ass into any little spot. Especially if there is paper involved.
Her coy look.
Smiling with her eyes. Watch out Tyra Banks.
I’m in a bit of a parenting pickle. My child. Oh my child. He needs a sibling so badly. Or at least someone (besides me) to play with on a regular basis. He now thinks our cats are his best mates. Mates as in friends. Dear lord I’ve been watching too much BBC America.
Anyway. This child. The child is always in the cats’ faces. With the screaming and laughing. They sit on the back or arm of the couch or chair and he will get right in their faces and scream or yell. He hits the couch or chair right by their heads. He pokes them with random objects. He chases them around the house. He throws things at them. And these poor cats are as docile as can be. In the time we’ve had the boy home Julius (our old crotchety cat) has scratched the boy twice. He has smacked the child in the face multiple times (no claws out) and hissed at him a few times. But Isis. Fat little Isis. This cat is so gentle. She is so patient. I have only ever seen her hiss at a child once. But there were 3 three year olds and they had cornered her. Isis takes the brunt of most of the boy’s abuse. Seeing as Julius scratched the child an all.
What’s funny is that Isis is the smart one of the two. However, Julius has taken to hiding from the child whereas fatty, she just sits there.
Tonight I witnessed the child throw a flashlight at the cat. She didn’t do anything. Then, we were folding laundry and we told the boy the laundry basket wasn’t a toy. That’s when he got pissed and threw a cup right at the cat’s head. No joke. Right in front of us. It hit her square in her little bean of a head. She just stared at the child all, what the hell kid?
Normally, the logical consequence for harassing a cat would be a good scratch and that would be the end of it. Problem is, my cats don’t scratch. They just try to run away from the child which in turn causes the child to chase after them thinking it’s a game. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve told that child to stop harassing the cats. Hundreds, even thousands. Nothing works. I’ve put him on a naughty chair. I’ve taken away toys and privileges. I’ve taken away bedtime stories. Everything I can think of. Nothing works. Everyday is the same old thing.
So help me internets. I need some creative parenting. Short of grabbing a cat paw myself and giving the child a big ol’ swipe I don’t know what to do. These poor cats are old and crusty. They can’t take it anymore.
I haven’t thrown my computer out of the window yet, but today starts my 2 weeks of monthly work so we’ll see.
We’ve hit the mid month mark on this MoFoBloPo* (NaBloPoMo) thing and this is the point where I start to ask myself why. I can’t even cheat and throw out a post I’ve had saved forever. Mostly because I don’t want to cheat, but also because I just don’t have any saved. I usually have at least 1 or 2 floating around. Ok, there are 3, but one is just a photo, one is a how to on creating a moss basket (not so much the time for that) and the last is totally haphazard. See, nothing.
I don’t have the brain power to throw out a bullet list. How sad is that.
Lemme see… you want to hear more about potty training? I didn’t think so.
So you get my own LOL Cat.
I iz on ur bed lik’n my butt
Yes the boy is getting physically better. Thank you for asking. However, I still want to sell him on Ebay this week. Due to the illness he is milking it for all it is worth and everything is the worst thing that could possibly happen to him. Call 911! he got a puzzle piece stuck on his finger this morning. And then there was the time that I closed the pantry door. God forbid. Clearly I wasn’t aware that the door must remain open for my son to live. Of course then there is all the breathing I do. I might as well be sucking his oxygen out of the room.
Not only is my son sick, my cat is now sick too. I was idly sitting at my computer trying to do something like work (since I haven’t done that in like a week) when the damn cat comes to bug the shit out of me. Normally this cat only does that when he hasn’t been fed. I play sucker and feed him some more food. Just because he is irritating me. Then I go to get the boy up because, of all the silly things, we have to go to the pediatrician’s office this afternoon. And here I thought the 3 hours we spent at the hospital yesterday would be enough. In the hall on the way to the boy’s room I find cat throw up. This isn’t unusual. My cats are world class pukers. Only this time the puke is red. Ok, let’s just be gross here. It’s bloody. That so can’t be good. Don’t go giving me assvice on tainted cat food. It’s not that. If anything it is the carpet fibers he’s been chewing on because he’s dumb and thinks that white strings are grass.
Of course I have to walk out the door to go to the non-fur child’s doctor so I called the trusty husband to find a vet. Yeah, we don’t have one of those here.
So the non-fur child is fine. The fur child on the other hand had to stay over night so they could collect urine, stool and blood samples from him. That thing is going to leap into my arms and hug me tomorrow when I pick him up. Either that or puke on my shoes.
