A Cat's Life

Not Just a Cat

2006-10-01T22:51:00.000+02:00

My childhood memories of Sunday School have become a blur of choruses of “Jesus Loves Me” (not the Whitney Houston rendition) and memorizing the Lord’s Prayer for prizes of candy bars and prayer cards. One particular lesson, however, still sticks with me.

The topic was heaven. We were not at an age where we had serious theological debates, but were nonetheless old enough to have some notion of death and the afterlife, at least as much as anyone understands such things. Some precocious child (it wasn’t me) asked if our pets would go to heaven when they died, and I remember distinctly what our Sunday School teacher said as she tried to answer the question. "Only people go to heaven," she said. "The Bible says that animals will return to dust.” She quickly changed the topic, content that we wouldn’t question the authority of statements that begin with ‘the Bible says…’.

I suspect she wasn’t expecting that question, and she was even less prepared for the discussion that should accompany it: the concept of soul. The notion of the human soul is problematic enough, but what about those of our four-legged friends? I remember that at the time, I couldn’t imagine my cat suddenly turning to dust and I also doubted that there could be a heaven that didn’t have puppies and kittens. I still have the same basic reaction as my eight-year-old self; I don’t want to go to any place, especially for eternity, where my pets wouldn't also be welcome.

These days, I’m not religious enough to dwell much on thoughts about eternity, but concepts like love and loss, birth and death have been at the forefront of my mind this past week. Since Ullrick left me on Wednesday, I’ve been asking myself if I made the most of the short time that I had with him. There could have been more walks in the park and more snuggles in the bed, but I can’t go back and change that now. It doesn’t help me, and it won’t bring him back, to dwell on such thoughts, but it can remind me that I have another cat who needs all of the love I can give her right now – and I need all the love that she can give me.

I’ve experienced a whole gambit of emotions – sorrow, disbelief, denial, anger, shock. At times, maybe there have even been hints of reconciliation and acceptance, but I don’t think I’m there yet. It mostly doesn’t seem real…Monday night he was curled up in his ‘puddy basket’ with his (not-so) little sister, Tuesday was an excruciating day at the vet’s, and Wednesday he was gone. Now it’s Sunday night and I’m still struggling to come to terms with it all. I've spent a large chunk of the last few days curled up in bed with Vessa and looking at pictures of Ullrick.

I’ve been very lucky this week in that I’m surrounded by animal lovers, both in real life and online. I’ve been very touched by the outpouring of thoughts and well wishes I’ve received in my inbox. Mamma Mu, a Swedish friend I met through my personal blog, was staying with me this week and was a lifesaver in that she went to the vet’s to pick up the empty carrier and pay the bill for me. I’m not sure I could have handled it myself.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the prevalence of “pet bloggers” and humans’ tendency to anthropomorphize their animals. (It’s nothing new; the ancient Egyptians even deified their felines in the form of the cat goddess Bast). Jokes about lack of opposable thumbs aside, there is a human behind every cat, and I think it’s our way of giving them a voice. It’s also a way to express our love for them, because it taps into a community of animal lovers who care for their pets as much as we do.

Although I miss him dearly, I don’t regret a single second of the last nine months I spent with Ullrick. He was still a baby when he came to live with me, and I watched him grow into a handsome cat. I saw his immediate affection for his little sister when we brought her home, and those big green alien eyes always seemed to see right into my soul, as if he could read my mind.

I’m glad I could tell when there was something wrong in his little body, and despite the sorrow, I know that the final decision was the right one. I would have figured out how to pay for it if there was a treatment that would have given him a fighting chance, but I have to trust that the veterinarian would have given me those options had such existed.

I know that sometimes people who have never loved or been loved by an animal might have a hard time understanding how you can be so shaken up over the death of a pet. “It’s just a cat,” they might say.

But Ullrick wasn’t just a cat. You see, he was my cat and I was his person. He didn’t belong to me; we belonged to each other. I’m counting on the fact that if there is a heaven, the souls that belong to each other will be together.

Goodbye

2006-09-27T19:15:00.000+02:00

This morning, I said goodbye to Ullrick at the vet's office with the knowledge that he might not be coming home. I had a feeling that would be the last time that I would see him, and a phone call around 4 pm confirmed that feeling. He had a lump in his lymph node that was inoperable and untreatable. Rather than bring him home just so I could spend a few more days with him, I made the decision to let him cross the Rainbow Bridge while he was already asleep. To make any other decision would have been unfair to him, and I had already said my goodbyes. It happened so fast, I'm still in shock, but I know that this was the right decision for him. But knowing I made the right decision somehow doesn't make this any easier. It's just such a shame that he was such a young and beautiful cat with a full life ahead of him. He was my first cat that I had as an adult, and he will always hold a special place in my heart.

Vessa and I are hanging in there, but time is the only thing that will lessen the pain right now. It's a visceral emptiness and I keep thinking about his big, green "alien" eyes.

We will miss you.

Calling all paws...

2006-09-26T22:31:00.000+02:00

We havn't updated in awhile because things have been crazy with work and life in a foreign country...but I now have bad news, and I'd ask you all to keep us in your thoughts the next few days.

In the last two weeks, Ullrick has rapidly lost weight and has been pretty listless. But he was still eating and drinking, so I waited a few days to see if he would improve. Over the weekend, it became clear to me that something was very wrong.

Today we spent six hours at the vet doing various blood tests, ultrasounds, and x-rays. It seems that Ullrick has some sort of lump in his intestines and the results of the blood tests were not good. Tomorrow morning they are doing exploratory surgery to see if they can figure out the cause of his illness. Hopefully, it's benign and can be removed immediately. And I don't really want to think about the other possibilities right now until we have a definite prognosis...

The vet gave me some non-conclusive information this afternoon, and I missed half of it since it was in Swedish and my thoughts were elsewhere. There is a possibility it is feline leukemia, which means that Vessa will have to be tested for it as well, even though she is a healthy, happy, and very friendly 10-month-old. Ullrick is just a year...he's too young to be going through this.

Ullrick is laying right here next to me on the bed and is one very unhappy kitten. The day at the vet was hard on both of us, but especially him.

Please keep your fingers and paws crossed in the next 24-hours, and we'll let you know when we have more information.

/Curiosa

Birthday boy

2006-07-30T10:22:00.000+02:00

We make shit so your cat doesn't have to...

2006-07-28T10:14:00.000+02:00

The scenario:
A very happy cat dances in the sand of a very clean litter box. A very relieved owner is very happy that the very irksome task is almost complete. The only thing left to be done is a trip out to the hall to drop a very shit-filled black plastic garbage bag down the trash chute.

Two milliseconds later:
A very confused cat poops in sand, which is no longer in either the litter box OR the black plastic garbage bag. A very unhappy owner releases a string of very explicit expletives that neither you nor your children would want to hear. Sand is everywhere; it's like a beach, except shittier and stinkier. If there had been a fan blowing, the shit would have literally hit it.

...trust me, you'd rather skip this part (and so would we)...

The next day:
A non-plussed feline, probably having forgotten about the incident from the previous evening, sleeps very blissfully. A very seething owner explores whether or not there is a legal precedent to sue a garbage bag manufacturer for emotional damage resulting from a faulty product, which was neither "Glad" nor "Hefty". The cat is clearly not the only one making shit. We Make Shit (TM) brand garbage bags get the prize for the shittiest shit bags ever.

Please feed me

2006-07-13T12:09:00.000+02:00

Spic and span...

2006-07-02T23:58:00.000+02:00

Doesn't a fresh, clean litter box just make you want to poop already? I just can't stand the sight of that untouched sand...Muuuust dig......

I just couldn't help myself

2006-06-27T09:31:00.000+02:00

The real catwalk

2006-06-27T09:24:00.000+02:00

Photos by The Dude

The Furry Fury

2006-06-25T18:51:00.000+02:00

Just wanted to say that Vessa now has her own blog, although it may be a few days before she posts anything. Check out the Furry Fury.

My hallowed ground

2006-06-23T11:00:00.000+02:00

I just want to inform you that I have reclaimed the sacred area located under the bed. The Bed Monster tried to stake her claim, but I was having none of that. That space is reserved solely for the purpose of you-know-what-licking. It's not like she has any you-know-whats to lick. Oh wait, neither do I.

There's a monster under the bed

2006-06-21T19:00:00.000+02:00

Okay, not really a monster, but another cat. A guest cat. A cat who has come to stay. A cat who won't come out from under the bed. (I'm a little miffed that she's taken my spot; under the bed is where I go to mourn the loss of my beloved testicles.)

This isn't like the time Mini Kitten came to stay and then never went home. This cat is just visiting. She is ~~served~~ cared for and petted on a regular basis by Curiosa's colleague D.

She's an old lady cat. She's grumpy and plump, and we've tried to make friends, but she just hisses at us.

This apartment is kinda small for two baby kitties (we try to play up the baby angle as much as possible), but it's even smaller with chats à trois. Don't get us wrong. We don't mind her being here. In the meantime, we're just gonna sit here chillin' in our basket, and wait for her to make up to us.

Disappointed

2006-06-17T13:45:00.000+02:00

We were very upset to discover that this site had absolutely nothing to do with real cats whatsoever.

Hurumph.

I'm not half the man I used to be

2006-06-14T14:11:00.000+02:00

I can't really blame my lack of blogging on the absence of opposable thumbs, since I've never had opposable thumbs and managed to blog in spite of this. I will, however, blame my lack of posts on the surgical removal of certain vital body parts.

While aforementioned body parts are not, strictly speaking, required to type on the keyboard, it has had much impact on my morale. I have simply wanted to hide under the bed and lick my wounds (literally). I have been doing just that.

I'm much, much less of a man than I used to be. (Never mind that I'm a cat).

Goodnight

2006-05-14T19:13:00.000+02:00

You make a good pillow

2006-05-14T19:11:00.000+02:00

Love me, love my glove

2006-05-02T21:39:00.000+02:00

Our favorite uncle sent us a package. Apparently, Zoom Grooms are unavailable in the great state of Alaska, so he sent us another feline brushing implement in its place. It's called a Love Glove. And since we're "only" cats, and not recognized as legitimate citizens with full voting rights in the Kingdom of Sweden, the package was addressed to Curiosa.

The Dude told her, "I'm not entirely sure how I feel about another man sending you something called a 'Love Glove.'"

I just want to assure the Dude that I'm the only one that's gonna get a purr-sonal rub down with the Love Glove.

We've got mail!

2006-04-26T21:05:00.000+02:00

ALOHA TO OUR SECRET PAWS! All the way from Hawaii!! Tack så mycket, as they say in Sweden.

It's the first time we've ever gotten mail addressed to us, so we were furry, furry excited. We are very very sorry we didn't post anything earlier, but we just got them last week as the Swedish mail system is...convuluded....to put it mildly. It sat in a post office for a week or two before that before Curiosa was able to figure out where to pick them up. Our favorite...is the blue feather wand!! Vessa (formerly known as Saga) demonstrates:

And you can also see the toys we made out of the chenelle rods you sent us, and we are sorry that a few extra mice that you didn't send us snuck into the picture. But the more mice, the merrier!

So when can we come to Hawaii to visit?

The sun, the moon, and the stars (and Kukka-Maria is the biggest star I know)

2006-04-26T20:48:00.000+02:00

Someone thinks she's being sneaky

2006-04-25T00:22:00.000+02:00

No title necessary

2006-04-23T11:31:00.000+02:00

Upclose and purr-sonal

2006-04-23T11:24:00.000+02:00

I want in on the fish banquet action

2006-04-18T15:06:00.000+02:00

This is the kind of news article that should brighten the days of any kitties with plans to raise cat armies to take over the world.

Cat army annihilates destructive rats
China Daily
2006-04-12

A group of villagers recently prepared a sumptuous fish banquet for more than 200 cats to thank them for eradicating rats from their farmland.

Yangmei villagers in Sanjiang Township of Xinhui District in the city of Jiangmen, Guangdong Province, are expecting a good harvest this year thanks to the hard-working cats.

The village committee spent more than 12,000 yuan (US$1,500) to buy more than 200 cats, which they released onto farmland to help wipe out the rat problem.

Sanjiang Village has 86.67 hectares of rice fields and 13.33 hectares of other crops and suffered from a rat infestation after most of the snakes were caught and slaughtered by local villagers in previous years.

Kitten War!

2006-04-13T18:27:00.000+02:00

We very blatantly stole this idea from Buddah, via Max, but we're now on Kitten War as well. Sixty-eight percent ain't too shabby at all.

They are for ME! Hand 'em over, already.

2006-04-08T14:23:00.000+02:00

Dude.

Not Dude as in the Dude, but Dude, as in Man, oh, Dude. Like a surfer would say.

Life is so unfair for us furry ones.

The Dude brought back a whole suitcase full of cat toys and other things for us from the States. Which is great!

But I can smell them in Curiosa's backback and she won't let me have them until the Dude can come over himself and give them to me (okay, fine, US, I know I have to share with the Mini Kitten). Curiosa wants to reassure me that he is trying to make up to me.

I get it. It's fine. He's fine. He's great. He's PURR-fect. He has my undying gratitude for his wonderful offerings to the Goddess of Feline Amusement. He's my new best friend. I love him more than life itself. If I weren't a cat, he would make me want to be gay. He's lovely. Now I understand what you see in him. Blah blah blah.

Now just give me the damn toys, already!

Load of crap

2006-04-04T18:47:00.000+02:00

I'm beginning to suspect the whole thing is just a female conspiracy.

The Dude, with the exception of his requisite chin scratches, leaves me well enough alone. He hardly comes near me, let alone tries to d-r-o-w-n me. In fact, I think he may very well be on my side, since he cringes whenever Curiosa mentions the word "nooter." He also whispered to me that he'll go and hold my paw when D-Day finally arrives.

And my little sister, the Mini Kitten (also known as Vessa, since my pal Fat Eric was wondering), stayed suspiciously dry throughout the whole event.

You guessed it. Today was bathtime. Again.

I really don't give a rat's ass (and if I had one, I sure as heck wouldn't give it up) that it was me who stepped in the poop (BY ACCIDENT!) and started to track it through the apartment. It's not my fault that my fur is so long and luxurious that stuff gets stuck in it. And it's an honor for Curiosa that I let her sleep in my bed, so she's just being ungrateful to say she doesn't want to sleep with a smelly cat. (Besides, the Mini Kitten is the one who drops the deadly cat bombs!)

I'll spare you the gory details, but suffice it to say that I have once again joined the ranks of the poor little wet cats.

Don't you just feel so, so sorry for me?

P.S. Unlike last time, there was no bowling bag involved, so Curiosa has stuck to her promise on that one, but I swear to God she uttered the phrase, "I hereby solemnly swear to never, ever again attempt to bathe His Most Esteemed and Benevolent Highness the Dictator Currently Known as Sir Ullrick the Wondercat the III 1/2." Where there any witnesses?

Happy Purr-thday!

2006-04-04T15:12:00.000+02:00

Wish the Dude happy purr-thday! (He's like 127 in cat years!)

We're alright

2006-03-29T12:46:00.000+02:00

So Mini-Kitten isn't so mini anymore, she's growing fast, but she's still mini compared to me.

I'm pretty much convinced my little sister is what only can be called "bat-shit crazy". And I mean that in the nicest of ways.

Curiosa and the Dude just sit there and look at her as she pounces on something that isn't there, runs across the room and does a quadruple backflip, using the edge of the couch as a balance beam. Then it's her superman routine, where the Dude exclaims, "Holy cow! It's a bird, it's a plane, it's a flying mini-kitten!!" as she crosses the room in leaps and bounds. Her grand finale is a triple salchow, topped off with a few seconds of adorable tail chasing, after which she collapses in exhaustion, with her head on her paws.

She takes a quick cat nap, and then two minutes later repeats the routine, with some variation in her pouncing and tail chasing.

I can see why Curiosa and the Dude are a bit baffled by this behaviour, because I'm a cat and I don't entirely understand the actions of the adorable spaz that is my little sister. I mean, pouncing on air is one thing, I get that, but the triple salchow is a bit over the top.

On another note, the Dude and I have reached an understanding. He has agreed that I am the Man of the House, and the only reason he is allowed to be there is because I say so. He gives me plenty of chin scratches, takes lots of anti-histimines, and washes his hands after aforementioned chin scratches. In exchange, I have agreed not to poop in his shoes. Sounds like a pretty fair deal to me.

The Dude is out of town for a week, so we've been allowed back in the bedroom. That's right, I knew Curiosa would come to her senses and would come crawling back. I promptly re-asserted my reign over the bedroom, by sitting on the pillow that the Dude has claimed for himself. Curiosa warned me that this is only temporary, that in a week, after some serious laundering, the bedroom will once again be a cat-free zone, but we'll see about that.

Not so bad after all

2006-03-21T00:17:00.000+01:00

Maybe the Dude does have a few redeeming qualities, like opposable thumbs. (Though I'm not ready to admit that to him). It seems he can contribute to the overall number of chin scratches in our apartment. THAT can never be a bad thing.

I think I need a hug

2006-03-17T09:06:00.000+01:00

Dear Mortal Enemy,

2006-03-16T02:02:00.000+01:00

I am writing to inform you that I have secured the world's supply of Benedryl, which you can no longer stockpile behind your litter box, and have invested in a state-of-the-art gas mask which can sustain human life for up to 123 days in the event of successive cat bombings (or even a single, cat-astrophic detonation). Furthermore, I have shielded myself by wearing ROD-proof underwear, so I'm safe from your evil gaze should you continue to send me Ray of Death stares from across the room.

I am immune to any further attempts to banish me from the Enclave in the Kingdom of Sweden Ruled by His Most Esteemed and Benevolent Highness the Dictator Currently Known as Sir Ullrick the Wondercat the III 1/2.

Sincerely,
The Dude

Alpha Male

2006-03-16T01:43:00.000+01:00

Since the Dude** has been the source of the introduction of a feline-free zone in the bedroom (sneeze, smeeze!!), it is necessary to take counter measures. I propose the immediate establishment of a Dude-free zone in the entire apartment.

**Curiosa is, of course, an accomplice in this matter, but I will deal with her with some amount of leniency. I refuse to believe that she is intentionally participating in any actions that are ~~harmful~~inconvenient to the ~~well-being~~spoiled existence of His Most Esteemed and Benevolent Highness the Dictator Currently Known as Sir Ullrick the Wondercat the III 1/2 and His sidekick the Mini-Kitten. She must surely be under the undue influence of the Dude. I will accept a plea of temporary insanity.

Mini and Maxi Kitten

2006-03-10T16:14:00.000+01:00

Forewarned is forearmed

2006-03-10T16:04:00.000+01:00

The establishment of Cat-Free Zones in the Household Environment is a direct violation of Statute 101.346 of the Treaty Establishing Peace in the Enclave in the Kingdom of Sweden Ruled by His Most Esteemed and Benevolent Highness the Dictator Currently Known as Sir Ullrick the Wondercat the III 1/2. Any attempt to create Cat-Free Zones will be considered as no less than an Act of War. Any enemy forces hostile to HMEBHDCKSUR3.5 will be met with swift and violent force, including but not limited to, total confiscation and anhilation of the world's supply of Benedryl, the strategic placement and detonation of cat bombs, and the release of cat allergens into the drinking supply.

Poopster

2006-03-09T02:33:00.000+01:00

I gotta give my little 'sis props. What she lacks in size, she makes up for in fragrance!

The Dude walked Curiosa home tonight, and right as he was leaving, just to seal the deal to make sure he got outta there in due course, the Mini Kitten (I'm the Maxi Kitten) dropped a BIG 'ol stink bomb in the litter box.

As the Dude said, "How can that that smell come from that tiny kitten? That has to violate several laws of physics."

Mind you, this was all part of the plan. Only trouble was, Curiosa wanted to get the heck outta there as well.

And after all, we do need to keep her around for the sake of her opposable thumbs.

A Memorandum by the Dictator Currently Known as Ullrick

2006-03-08T16:35:00.000+01:00

To Whom It May Concern:

Before you go to the trouble of attempting to pass new legislation regarding the Running of Household, I am writing to inform you that I will VETO immediately and without further debate any policies that attempt to implement any of the following measures: 1) weekly bathing (my goal is to INCREASE, not REDUCE the total level of cat dander in the home environment); 2) an increase in the frequency of vacuuming (i.e. the dust sucker), which causes me indescribable pain due to its noise levels; and 3) the installation of a lock on the bedroom door intended to prevent small paws from reaching under and letting owner of aforementioned small paws into the bedroom.

Do NOT attempt to implement any of the above mentioned measures for there shall be dire consequences for all parties directly or indirectly involved in such matters.

Sincerely,
the Dictator Currently Known as Sir Ullrick the Wondercat

You will sneeze when I tell you to sneeze!

2006-03-08T16:16:00.000+01:00

Things are getting really fishy around here, and not in a good way.

I have discovered I possess a new superpower: To Make the Dude Sneeze.

So see, here's what I do. There is a temporary ceasefire, and I pretend to be waving the white flag (in the form of my tail...it's orange, but whatever). I carefully approach the Dude, who says, "Get away from me, you walking allergen."

He's sitting on one side of MY couch, I jump up on the other. We stare each other down. He looks away first. I win.

Then I continue the truce farce and carefully scootch over towards him, closer and closer. If I can just reach his nose, I can stick my paw up it. That oughta do it. Take that, DUDE!

I heard him tell Curiosa that once the sneezing starts, it won't stop. Maybe he'll go away if I make him sneeze uncontrollably.

In the meantime, I'm just going to hide all the Benedryl behind my litterbox.

True love

2006-03-06T03:06:00.000+01:00

True love, man, is a pack of bendryl and a can of tuna.

Word.

It's been a very, VERY long week

2006-03-06T02:44:00.000+01:00

A Little Help from John Locke

2006-03-06T01:54:00.000+01:00

"Property, whose original is from the right a ~~man~~ cat has to use any of the inferior creatures [i.e. the humans], for the subsistence and comfort of his life, is for the benefit and sole advantage of the proprietor". (First Treatise, Chapter 9).

We need to get some things straightened out around here. It's MY couch, MY litterbox, MY lap that Belongs to Me, MY kitten food, MY bed, MY apartment, and it's even MY red bowling bag purse thing. As John Locke so wisely put it, all of this stuff is for MY "subsistence and comfort." I LET Curiosa use MY stuff because she feeds me and takes care of the litter critters I leave behind. But now, there's this Dude who can't seem to get the concept of private property through his thick skull. And to top it all off, there is a New Kitten who is visiting us. And she has the nerve to sleep in MY kitty basket. Never mind the fact that I have never once slept in that basket myself since Curiosa made it for me, but it's MINE nonetheless.

This kitten is not nearly as bad as the Dude, but I'm just reminding everyone right now, that she is now MY kitten.

THIS is how you bathe a little kitty!

2006-03-06T01:49:00.000+01:00

You made a woman meow? (From When Harry Met Sally)

2006-03-06T00:52:00.000+01:00

Dude, I'm not so sure I can take much more of this.

First there is all the BS with the bowling bag and the Wet Cat Incident. Just when I think things are getting back to normal, this guy shows up. And he doesn't go away.

Listen buddy, I don't know who you are, and what you think you're doing, but let's just get one thing straight, pucko. I'M the man of THIS house, and you better get used to it. Like yesterday, already.

He comes in the door, and I think, "Okay, maybe he's the pizza delivery guy." Those pizza delivery guys, they're pretty harmless, and if I'm lucky, Curiosa will drop some cheese. I love le fromage, man.

So it's a pretty simple formula, as far as I'm concerned. Get the pie, pay the dude, and send him on his merry way. BUT HE DOESN'T LEAVE!

He comes in, and he sits on MY couch. Not only does he sit on MY couch, he stretches out on it like he belongs there or something. Watch it, buddy! You don't know who you're dealin' with!! I could totally pounce you!

So I sit there on the other couch glaring at him, hoping he'll GET THE MESSAGE and get his ass off MY couch. But this guy is thick. Dumb as a rock. Not a flippin' clue.

So then Curiosa comes in, and I think, "Thank God! She'll let him know who's who around here."

But then, not only does she NOT let him know who's who, she sits down besides him. She seems to encourage him to keep sitting on the couch.

And just when I think that things couldn't possibly get any worse, the Dude has the audacity to put his head in MY lap. (I don't mean my lap, per se. I'm a cat; I don't have a lap.) I mean the Lap that Belongs to Me. The Lap that I sit in, when I please and where I please. On MY couch, if you failed to remember that part.

I continue to sit and stare, until finally I lick myself and pretend not to care anymore.

Then it's bed time. As in "good night, sleep tight, sucker." Now, I think, he's get the hell out of here and I can have Curiosa to myself again.

Wrong again! This had to be the worst part...I think this might even be worse than being zipped into that damn red bowling bag and carried around like some kind of purse or something. They lock me out of MY bedroom, and prevent me from sleeping on MY bed, next to MY Curiosa.

Curiosa mumbled some kind of half-hearted explanation about something called "allergies" and said I'd probably have to get used to sleeping on the couch.

Then she tacked up a sign on the bedroom door in scrawled handwriting that read, "No Pussies Allowed."

Finally the Dude and I agreed on something. The Dude said maybe Curiosa should specify that she meant the four-footed kind of pussy, and then she said that if he didn't watch it, he could very well end up sleeping on the couch with me. Believe me, that was an option that NEITHER of us wanted.

But I'm not so sure that Curiosa stuck to her guns on that one. I may only be a little kitty, but I know the sound of mewing when I hear it. And if I'm not mistaken, I heard a distinct meowing sound coming from the bedroom. And I'm pretty sure it was coming from Curiosa.

I digress. My point was, THEY MADE ME SLEEP ON THE FRIGGIN' COUCH. I sat there all night and glared at the door, waiting to pounce whoever came out first. Of course, when the Dude finally came out, I pretended to be asleep, and when he came back through, I was licking myself again.

When the Dude finally left once and for all, Curiosa was still sleepy. She let me in, and I went right up to the pillows and made sure those pillows knew who they belonged to.

As for the Dude, I hope he checked his boots before he left, otherwise he was in for a squishy surprise.

One word, Dude, one word: POOPALICIOUS.

Dedicated to Kukka-Maria

2006-03-03T19:46:00.000+01:00

I've said it before, and I'll say it again:

A clean litterbox is just a poop waiting to happen.

Love me, love my cat

2006-03-02T04:25:00.000+01:00

Everyone's talkin' about how wonderful it is to have a kitty. Check out
why every day i'm one day closer to becoming the crazy cat lady by This Fish. (I know, I was excited too, but it's not that kind of fish.) She answers the question (correctly!! I might add), "What if you have to choose between true love and your cat?"

The Right Answer, Ladies and Toms: "It's not true love."

Because she asked me to, and I need some cash for cat nip

2006-03-02T03:53:00.000+01:00

I'm only doing this because she said I'd get a cut of the profit for my Own Personal Use (Zoom Groom and kitty crack here I come), as well as assured me that a large part of the rest of it would be spent on something called rent. She said the alternative would be living under a bridge with me sleeping in that terrible sack.

So apparently there are other fashion accessories of use to people besides Mad Cat Hats (and PURSES arghhhhhh). I personally don't understand it as long strings of beads seem much more fun to use as playthings for kitties, but to each his own. Curiosa said she would make me a diamond studded collar, but thought I'd appreciate wearing that about as much as I like going for rides in bowling bags. (Sometimes she makes me wear a pink, PINK I SAID, harness around my itty bitty body, but THAT'S a post for another time).

Anyway, you might check out this link if you want to see some of the other things Curiosa does besides blogging (and bathing me). If you like anything in particular, you can go through the website, or you could even send me an email at fcuriosa@gmail.com. If you want some Kitty Couture Collars, don't be afraid to ask.

P.S. I'm fairly well recovered from the Wet Cat Incident, but I have to admit I'm milking it for all it's worth. Curiosa has been especially eager to serve my every need these past few days, and I'm going to make sure it stays that way.

Way to go, Einstein

2006-02-28T19:13:00.000+01:00

Dear kitties,

2006-02-28T10:32:00.000+01:00

I hereby make a public apology to the highly esteemed Sir Ullrick the Wondercat, for whose leniency and generosity in the matter of the "Wet Cat Incident" I shall forever be grateful. Be sure, there was no malice intended on my part, though I do regret that my actions also lacked any form of foresight whatsoever. Words cannot express how deeply regretful I truly am (although the claw marks on my shoulder are a direct testament to this). I further apologize to any kitties that may have taken indirect offense to my actions, and I hereby swear that the incident shall never again be repeated. I pledge to compensate Sir Ullrick with thousands upon thousands of cuddles and kisses and kitty treats. Furthermore, I publicly acknowledge the superiority of the feline species, and I bow down before it. I am blessed to be allowed continued residence and companionship with such a benevolent and tolerant cat as Sir Ullrick. I am pleased to be allowed to continue in the service of his highly esteemed Self, and shall work night and day to rectify any damage caused by my participation in the "Wet Cat Incident."

Yours sincerely and most humbly,

Femina Curiosa
aka Einstein

Plea

2006-02-27T21:57:00.000+01:00

My name is Ullrick. Ullrick the Wet Cat.

I didn't choose to be this way. Due to circumstances beyond my control, I became a Wet Cat.

Unfortunately, I will be a Wet Cat until the time that I dry.

Do you know what it's like to live with the stigma of being a Wet Cat?

Please, don't shun us Wet Cats by locking us in the kitchen until we dry. Blowdrying us is just a form of cruel and unusual punishment, for something that is not even our fault.

Please, please, when you are warm and dry and snuggled up in your bed, don't forget about all of the poor little Wet Cats out there.

Einstein

2006-02-27T19:26:00.000+01:00

Don't ever get a human. It's just not worth it.

If you thought this was bad, wait till you hear what happened today.

I should have known better than to be happy when Curiosa announced she was going to the "puddy store" to buy some "puddy food." After all, as we learned last time, don't mess with the food. And I thought she was just going to come back with what she said she was going to buy, that is, kitten food.

Problem is, Curiosa, being a typical female and all, never does exactly what she says she is going to do. Technically, she DID buy the food, but she didn't bring it home.

The first time.

The first time she came home bearing gifts. There were some new metal food bowls, a new litter box with a lid, a couple of cans of stinky goodness (especially for little kitties), a pom pom, and even a little mouse. (Pssssssshhhh...as if one little 99 cent mouse is going to placate me...)

She also came home with a bag. A giant red vinyl bag with a zipper on it. It looked like she was planning to go bowling.

I should have known better.

She unzipped the giant red bag and of course I investigated it. It was carpeted inside, and actually kind of nice!

But before I knew it, she zipped me into it!! and said we were going back to the pet store to pick up the rest of the kitty food.

EXCUSE ME? DID YOU SAY WE? WE ARE GOING TO THE PET STORE? WHAT'S THIS WE BUSINESS? SURELY YOU MEAN YOU ARE GOING BACK TO THE PET STORE, RIGHT?

No, she actually did mean WE.

So out the door we went, with me slung over her shoulder like a sack of potatos. Let me tell you, of all the undignified things.....It was like I was nothing but a mere accessory. Sniff sniff.

I digress. DID I MENTION SHE TOOK ME TO THE PET STORE IN A PURSE?

There were cars, and woofies, and people, and more cars, and more woofies, and more people. It was way too much for a very little kitty (after all, I am just a baby) to take in all at once.

We got the damn food, and then headed home. And then there were even more cars, more woofies, and more people. I started to cry very loudly. HELP ME! HELP ME!

Curiosa kept saying that it's good to practice being in the bag. WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN PRACTICE? PRACTICE FOR WHAT? NOTHING WE NEED TO DO INVOLVES PRACTICING, OF ANY KIND. WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO, CURIOSA, START A KITTY BASEBALL TEAM?

Finally...after what seemed like FOREVER...I mean like ages and ages...like a whole millenium or something...we got home. On the way in the outside door, Curiosa sniffed and announced that it smelled like one of the woofies had done his thing.

How very wrong she was.

Yeah, that's right. That smell didn't come from no woofie.

I pooped in the purse. And then I peed in the purse.

That'll show her, I thought. Boo-yaa, take that.

I was wrong. So very, very wrong.

Not only did she decide to give the purse a bath, she decided to give me a bath while she was at it. First of all, the bathroom was dark, because the light bulb burned out over the weekend and Curiosa has decided she's a vampire and doesn't like light anyway, so she hadn't changed it yet. (Or rather, she hadn't gone to the store to get the bulbs she needed).

So now she has a pissy, poopy, angry cat in a dark bathroom. So she locks me in the bathroom, runs to the bedroom and steals the bulb from the night light, and comes back into the dark bathroom. So picture this: Curiosa, who knows by now that if I have to take a bath, she is going to take a bath, stripped down to her underwear, trying to change a lightbulb in a dark bathroom, cracking the bathroom door open enough so she can get some light from the hallway, all the while trying to keep a pissy, poopy, angry cat from escaping.

That image would make me laugh, that is, if I weren't the pissy, poopy, angry cat in question.

I'll save you the gory details of the ensuing battle, but suffice it to say that at one point Curiosa was wearing me like a hat. A Cat Hat. More stylish than that purse at least.

So, I got wet, she got wet, the bathroom got wet, and I think the ceiling even got wet.

It couldn't possibly get any worse, right?

Wrong again. So very, very wrong.

Turns out, I hadn't quite finished doing what I needed to do in the purse, but Curiosa wasn't going to let a wet cat streak around the rest of the apartment.

So her solution to this dilemma was to clean out the litter boxes and then fill one of them with fresh kitty litter (clay sand, mind you) and then lock it into the bathroom with me.

Yeah, cause it takes a genius to figure out that a wet cat and clay sand make a PERFECT combination. A wet cat plus clay sand that is supposed to clump together when it gets wet. Oh yeah, and a wet long-haired cat at that.

So now she's waiting for me to do what I need to do in the box so she can remove it in order to give me another bath to get the clumpy sand out of my fur.

Hmmmmpf. We'll see who lasts the longest.

Mr. Right

2006-02-27T02:16:00.000+01:00

Curiosa says that I am almost the perfect man. In fact, we almost have everything she wants in a relationship. She's the only woman in the world, as far as I am concerned. I love to cuddle, I'm a good listener, and I communicate my needs very clearly.

The only problem is that I still expect her to do all the cooking and cleaning, not to mention the fact that I poop in a box.

Leave my pussy out of it

2006-02-26T01:54:00.000+01:00

Thought you guys might enjoy this entry Curiosa wrote awhile ago. It's great advice for anyone dating a cat lover.

There's a cat in the computer!

2006-02-26T00:19:00.000+01:00

Have you had your screen cleaned today? Click here for the latest in computer sanitation products.

To those with the opposable thumbs

2006-02-25T23:16:00.000+01:00

This is about the best idea I have ever heard, especially for those kitties out there who like to climb (That was a silly statement. What cat doesn't like to climb?) and/or who have limited space for BIG cat furniture. Have your people run out to the nearest IKEA and buy this. It's called the "PS FÅNGST" (yeah, with the silly Scandinavian letter and all) and it's a closet organizer you can buy in the kids' department for $4.99. It's made out of a really strong mesh netting, the same material as football jersies, and it's PURR-FECT for kitties to climb. There are six "shelves" inside, so all you have to do once you buy it is to cut kitty-sized holes on each of the inside shelves so kitties can go from one section to another. Then you just hang it from a sturdy hook (maybe from a re-inforced beam across a door frame) and let your kitty loose. Make sure you reinforce the canvas strap at the top with a safety pin since it's fastened with velcro which might come apart. I know it looks like it might not withstand the weight of a wriggling kitty (or three), but it does. Curiosa saw three kitties (a mamma and two babies) climb up one today at the same time. One of the baby kitties even climbed up the outside of it and then went in the whole in the top!! Then Mamma Cat slide all the way down the tube upside down from the top! This is like thousands of times better than any old curtain, and it will provide hours of entertainment for all you kitties AND for the ones with opposable thumbs. (I think this might even be better than the Zoom Groom, but I don't know if Edsel will be so happy about me saying that, since I know Edsel and his Zoom Groom have a very close relationship.)**

Those Swedes sure know what they're doing!

**This ad is NOT sponsored by either IKEA or Petsmart. I published this purely out of the generosity of my furry little heart. Thanks to Anna and Arne at Kattfarmen for the great idea!! Kitties all around the globe are forever in your debt.

Family Pride

2006-02-25T22:48:00.000+01:00

Isn't this just about the cutest kitten you have ever seen, with the exception of me, of course? (But that goes without saying.) This is my little (half) sister. We have the same daddy, Vigge.

She might be named Saga (that's the Norse goddess of history), if Curiosa has anything to say about it.

To the ones who do all the shopping

2006-02-25T03:59:00.000+01:00

Curiosa has never had a kitten of her very own before, and when she was growing up she just played with the kitties while her mom used to do all the hard work, like litter boxes and stuff. Curiosa has been doing a fairly good job taking care of my litter box, but sometimes the "fragrance" drifts into the rest of the apartment because it's very small, even though the pan is in the hallway. Curiosa is amazed at how much poop can come out of one little kitty; she doesn't even really want to think about how much poop can come out of two little kitties. Does it matter what kind of litter you use? And I guess it should be scooped everyday, and how often do you change the whole pan? Any special advice for anti-fumigation tricks?

Poop. It's all about poop.

An Ode to Curiosa

2006-02-23T00:31:00.000+01:00

A sandpaper kiss, and a furry nudge
And although dinner was late, I shall not judge
For thee are entitled to whine
As long as I eventually dine
I would cook if I could. I know, some fudge!!

Sick as a woofie

2006-02-22T02:43:00.000+01:00

When I wondered earlier if Curiosa was feeling well, I didn't really think that she was actually sick. I just thought it was unusual behaviour. But now I feel bad as she is starting to feel REALLY sick and sniffing and coughing and moaning (and whining). I sat on her stomach and tried to stick my paw in her ear to make her feel better (it always makes me feel better to stick my paw in my ear) but she just said, "mrrrrmmmmmmmahhhhhmr" in a very squeeky, whiny voice. I don't think it helped. She just took some super duper über cold pills, so she's hoping to be unconscious very, very soon.

The better to stick my paw in your other ear, my dear.

More Cat Poetry

2006-02-21T03:12:00.000+01:00

There once was a girl named Curiosa
When I jumped on the table she got furiosa
It didn't make sense, it was just a game
But she shooed me away, all the same
That girl and her moods, she's mysteriosa

Where's Curiosa and what have you done with her?

2006-02-21T03:10:00.000+01:00

Curiosa must not be feeling well. Today, she did the dishes and cleaned my litterbox. I'd better go put my paw on her forehead to make sure she's not running a fever.

That's What I'm Talkin' About

2006-02-18T20:56:00.000+01:00

Kiss my furry behind, Curiosa

2006-02-18T19:17:00.000+01:00

I am absolutely, positively, officially 100% NOT amused.

Curiosa never, ever lets me eat people food, so I should have known something was up. It was too good to be true. A nasty, nasty trick is what it was.

She was eating something that had chicken in it, so of course I thought that I'll like it too.

She spilled a little bit of this cheesy, gooey stuff on the table when I jumped up on her lap, so I started sniffing it. I looked at Curiosa to see if she was going to shoo me, but instead she smiled, and said, "Go ahead!"

I sniffed it again and started to take a bite. But it was so spicy, I sneezed instead!! CATCHOO! It was a horrible, horrible experience! I'll never, ever recover.

And the worst part of all, instead of feeling really really really sorry for me, like I did for myself, the girl just sat there and laughed. "That'll teach you!" she said.

Well, you can bet my furry little behind that one of these days I'm gonna teach her a thing or two! And the first lesson is gonna be: Don't Mess With the Food!!

Mewsings

2006-02-18T17:11:00.000+01:00

Cat poems began with Max Psychokitty
He crafted haikus, epic and witty
He's clever, me thinks, a literati
Next thing you know it's kitty karate
Let's start an all purpose kitty committee!

A Limerick

2006-02-18T16:39:00.000+01:00

Ullrick is a fiesty forest kitten
He's so cute you can't help but be smitten
He lives in the cold kingdom of Sweden
Herring galore, a garden of Eden
Fishies beware, you're gonna get bitten

Thank you, thank you!! (Ullrick takes a bow)

Talking Cats

2006-02-17T19:44:00.000+01:00

He he...check and this link if you want to make your people laugh.

The Best Tail in Town

2006-02-16T21:52:00.000+01:00

Hej!! Would anyone else be interested in being a model in a contest called "The Best Tail in Town?" If we can show off our paws, why not our furry behinds?

More Paws! My Paws!

2006-02-16T21:19:00.000+01:00

Okay, so I can't read properly and missed the deadline for the Pawtraits contest, but here's the picture I would have sent in. I'm blaming the whole mess on Curiosa.

Calling all Paws! Take Two

2006-02-16T21:07:00.000+01:00

Sometimes I don't know what goes on in this girl's head. Curiosa has been talking about two different things that will radically turn my furry little life upside down. First, she says it's time to noooooooter me. I'm not entirely sure what that entails, but it doesn't sound fun. She says that it's better not to ask questions that I might not want the answers to.

Second, she thinks I'm lonely because I've starting chasing my own tail, and I keep slipping and sliding on the wooden floors when I tear around the apartment. She tries to chase me sometimes, but she says it might be more fun to be chased by someone who could follow me under the sofa. This kitty in the picture is a little girl by the name of Findus, and she has to find a new home. She's two and a half and her daddy is allergic to her. Isn't she pretty? Curiosa is waiting to see if a new job here in Stockholm might work out, because then she will invite Findus to stay at Casa Curiosa with me. (It's actually Casa Ullrick, but don't tell her that!)

The problem is, if the job doesn't work out, Curiosa might have to think about going back to the U.S.. She thinks the trip will be hard enough with me, let alone with two kitties in tow. Do any of you travelling paws out there have any advice? Have you flown around the world and lived to tell the tail? If so, please share!!

Calling All Paws!

2006-02-15T22:53:00.000+01:00

Not that she would ever do such a thing, but I thought that I shameless advertise to all those kitties out there that my human Curiosa has been nominated in several categories for the Second AFOE European Webblog Awards 2006 at Fistful of Euros for her blog Kommissarie Curiosa. She has even been nominated under "Best Weblog," but she would be very satisfied with "Best New Weblog." Get get your people to put those opposable thumbs to use and click on this link, perhaps clicking several times on "Kommissarie Curiosa." Of course, I'm a little miffed that there is no category for "blogging cats," but what is a little kitty to do?

P.S. Make sure you scroll down as there are several categories and "Best New Weblog" is close to the bottom.

Literary Kitty

2006-02-13T17:50:00.000+01:00

Hardy, the Plant (that Curiosa hasn't managed to kill yet)

2006-02-13T17:49:00.000+01:00

The Window to My World

2006-02-13T17:48:00.000+01:00

Coming out of the closet

2006-02-13T17:46:00.000+01:00

kitty toys sh¤¤ty toys

2006-02-12T22:50:00.000+01:00

Curiosa wants to know why, despite all of the playthings at my disposal (and toys that were intended for cats, she likes to point out), my two current favorite past times are batting around an empty toilet paper tube and carrying around an empty spool of wire.

Well....my only response to her question is....DUH!!!

Foot fetish

2006-02-09T19:06:00.000+01:00

Curiosa says she has ten little piggies. I say she has ten little meese.

Since it's my job to kill the dust bunnies, I figure I'm also responsible for killing the bed meese. You know, the ten little pale meese babies that stick out from under the covers at the end of the bed. I can't imagine that Curiosa likes sharing her bed with these meese, because there is hardly enough room in the bed for ME! (As the picture below demonstrates, I take up A LOT of space, despite my compact size.) I think they scare her too, because every time when I bat at them, they wiggle, making her scream!! Geez Curiosa, they are just meese! You don't need to be afraid. They keep disappearing under the covers, but I'll kill them soon, I will!

Tails from the tub: Pictorial Evidence

2006-02-09T18:10:00.000+01:00

You Can't See Me!

2006-02-09T18:02:00.000+01:00

I'm just a little kitty, but I can take up the WHOLE bed!

2006-02-09T18:01:00.000+01:00

I killed it, I DID!

2006-02-09T17:59:00.000+01:00

2006-02-09T17:54:00.000+01:00

Ullrick climbing up Curiosa's leg, reaching for BEADS!

An Ode to Smelly Cats

2006-02-06T19:32:00.000+01:00

(Chorus)
Smelly cat, smelly cat
What are they feeding you?
Smelly cat, smelly cat
It's not your fault

They won't take you to the vet
You're obviously not their favourite pet
You may not be a bed of roses
And you're no friend to those with noses
(Repeat Chorus)

-Phoebe, Friends

Tails from the Tub Part II

2006-02-05T16:20:00.000+01:00

My middle name is Stinky.

So, I'm sorry to report that she did it again. Curiosa tried to ~~drown~~wash me again.

Okay, maybe this time it was warranted. I was not as clean as I usually am, and I was kinda stinky. It it was so icky that even I didn't want to clean it with my tongue.

To be fair, she didn't wash ALL of me this time. She only washed half of me. And I do smell better.

I was a good kitty. I didn't scratch her at all. I bet the neighbors thought she was trying to kill me, but I was really just being dramatic. I reserve the right to complain at the top of my lungs when Curiosa turns that facet on me.

I just don't like the words "next time."

Give and take

2006-01-26T00:19:00.000+01:00

Curiosa and I have a new division of labor in our home. She is responsible for everything, except for killing the dust bunnies under the couch and bed. It's my job to sweep them up and catch them in my fur, and then she'll brush them out of me. Great deal, huh?

Mirror, mirror on the wall

2006-01-24T23:05:00.000+01:00

Curiosa is mad because I'm getting more comments on my blog than she is one hers.

Seems like people like cute cats more than they like cute bloggers.

Of course, if she'd drop this ridiculous mysterious alter ego business and post pictures of herself, she might get more comments too!!

Self-portrait

2006-01-18T19:29:00.000+01:00

See, I even know how to work the camera!!

All it takes is a nose and a roaming paw...

Upside down

2006-01-18T19:28:00.000+01:00

Lah dee dah

2006-01-18T19:26:00.000+01:00

I CAN'T HEAR YOU!!

Outtakes

2006-01-18T19:22:00.000+01:00

BEFORE:

AFTER:

IKEA here we come

2006-01-18T19:20:00.000+01:00

Every good Swedish kitty does his shopping at Sweden's famous home furnishings store.

(And the best part is, of course, the bag!!)

"Puss" means "kiss" in Swedish

2006-01-18T19:18:00.000+01:00

Peek-a-boo

2006-01-18T19:15:00.000+01:00

I see you, can you see me?

The Proper Place for a Norwegian Forest Cat...

2006-01-18T19:14:00.000+01:00

...is in a snowy forest, of course.

You Are My Sunshine

2006-01-18T19:11:00.000+01:00

Every little kitty needs a bright spot in his day. (5 weeks)

Tails from the Tub

2006-01-18T19:09:00.000+01:00

See Curiosa, I even knew how to give myself a bath when I was only three weeks old!

The Brady Bunch

2006-01-18T19:04:00.000+01:00

Me and my sis Ulla at 9 weeks

See how fast we've grown!! Ullrick and Ulla at 12 weeks

Who's 'yo daddy?

2006-01-18T19:00:00.000+01:00

That's not a cat, that's a lion!

Rumor has it Pappa Viggen smoked too much cat nip in the late 90s.

'Yo Mamma!

2006-01-18T18:59:00.000+01:00

My Mamma, Fanny.

A Rose by Any Other Name

2006-01-16T22:34:00.000+01:00

Just when I thought we had settled this naming me business, it seems that Curiosa has changed my name again. I thought we had agreed upon Sir Ullrick of Bumble Bee The III 1/2 as the official, full version. Just Ullrick is the everyday, simple version. (The bumble bee part comes from the fact that Curiosa says I'm her little bumble bee because I buzz around, bumbling into things). But today, she started calling me "You Little Sh*t!" I don't know why. I was just trying to help her make jewelry, and it's not my fault that a bottle of beads is infinitely more interesting than any of my furry cat toys. (Besides, I've already killed all of them, anyway, and at least two times). And yes, of course it had to go onto the floor since I know I'm not supposed to be up on the table.

Sheesh.

Pet Owners Beware

2006-01-14T13:37:00.000+01:00

A clean litterbox is just a poop waiting to happen.

I think we should make t-shirts.

David Letterman Knows What He's Talking About

2006-01-13T23:49:00.000+01:00

Top Ten Signs Your Kitty Is A Genius

10. Meows in six languages

9. He's the only one in your family who could assemble your Ikea coffee table

8. His whiskers are Bluetooth enabled

7. He only purrs when "Meet the Press" is on

6. Won 28 grand on "Jeopardy's Kitty Week"

5. He rigged it so he's got 10 lives

4. Earned the 2005 Nobel Prize in yarn-related sciences

3. Keeps putting the dog on Ebay

2. Not only calls 911 for you, also calls Z-100 whenever you need your Aerosmith fix

1. Winces everytime he hears George W. Bush say, "Nuke-yoo-lar"

Link nabbed from Eponine and Derby.

Overheard

2006-01-13T23:34:00.000+01:00

Curiosa and her mom on the phone

Curiosa: Today we took a bath. Tomorrow we're trying the new harness. Ullrick is going to be the best trained cat in the world.

Curiosa's Mom: Or you're going to be the best trained owner in the world.

See, Mom knows best. But Curiosa's mom was wrong about one thing though. Curiosa doesn't own me; I own her.