Suzanne Calling

The cat owns me. I am most definitely his favorite. What this means is that when I am home, he wants to possess me. The usual routine is when I get home, I pick him up and he proceeds to climb up on my right (bad) shoulder, then he heads across and covers both shoulders, like a stole. Then when I sit, he needs to be near me, which results in this: It doesn't matter where the leg is, he will force his body next to my leg. He doesn't care that it sends my nerves into overdrive. If I move, even while he's sleeping, less than a minute later, he is velcroed once again. So, I wised up and moved my left leg, placed it out of his reach and thirty seconds later, this is what he did IN HIS SLEEP: I don't think he understands, and I don't have the heart to tell him it doesn't feel as good for me as it must for him!

As much as I am a dog person, I have a soft spot for this cat. This is evidenced with the toys I buy him. When he first came to live with us, Scamp had a squeaky toy we call "Lumpy", because he looks like the little Heffalump that was in a movie a few years ago. He also has a mickey face that he doesn't really play with much. Meanwhile, we'd never see him play with Lumpy, but we would find the little toy all over the house, typically on my chair. Since I wasn't really seeing him interact with Lumpy, just evidence that he did, I bought a mouse dangle toy. He loved when we would interact with it and again, we'd find it all over the house. One day, I guess his want of playing with it overrode the desire to hide what he was doing, because I heard the plastic ring hit the floor over and over as he tossed it. (We've since come to find he LOVES tossing toys) That first dangle got named Charlie by Chef, and Scamp must have tossed him into a box, because he...

He meows and scratches at the screen door to the lanai, as if to make his intentions clear that he wants to go out. I don't get up. He runs to that door any time I do get up, thinking I'm going to let him out. Then, when I happen to be over by the door, and he made it clear that he wants to go out, I open it and he just stares at the open door. I close it and walk away, with a cat still inside the house. I wonder how long it will take him to realize that meowing doesn't work and that I'm less inclined to open that door if he doesn't go out...

I've been in the process of reorganizing my bookshelves. Now that I'm using the iMac, the Ikea desk I bought last year is getting used regularly, so the bookshelf next to it is also getting a workout. Last week, I pulled out anything non-school related to stuff into my other bookshelf (we'll ignore the fact that there are about a dozen boxes full of books in the garage-I'm a girl in need of a library and no extra space in the house!). Anyway, the reorganizing placed stacks of notebooks, of folders, and of various journal articles between the shelves of books. There is also a space barely kitteh sized, and Scamp, not finding a flat space of at least 3" that he hasn't tried, decided he had a new perch when I'm studying. Well, he did until he shook the bookshelf too much, looked up and had a JavaScript pocket guide fall in front of him. That spooked him, he shook the bookshelf some more, and my painting of a mountain range fell from the top and landed on ...

My friend Jill commented tonight that her puppy did a better job and playing a game in her iPad than the cat the game was designed for. iPad app? Cat? Yep: It was free, I bought it and Scamp was fascinated, but didn't touch the iPad. However, I fear that in addition to the kids, the cat will be bugging me for my iPad when I am not using it...

Chef has a knack for repurposing songs. No, he won't take Weird Al's undisputed title as the King of Parodies, but he does tend to do it in such a way that Ed and I are amused often. Until he messes with a Ramones song. Son, you don't mess with the Ramones, they are not to be considered parody fodder. It just isn't done. Then we realized that our rock-loving child had not been exposed to music perfect for his early-arrival teen angst: punk rock. So, we started with Blizkrieg Bop, then went to TV Party and added a few more classics from the mosh pit standards. He appears to fit right in, and if he'd had a lighter, he would have been burning his fingertips in appropriate respect by holding that Bic lighter aloft. I see further introductions to groups like the Dead Kennedys. On the other hand, Scamp was utterly terrified by the music. I guess that's the down side of inheriting an animal: I think he cut his milk teeth on Michael Crawford. Now, that music, I...

My chaise was delivered Wednesday afternoon. I'm looking forward to studying in a seat that elevates my leg and supports my neck and shoulders. Now I'm on the hunt for something like a hospital patient table to use when I'm studying and have the books and laptop at the same time. In 48 hours, Scamp seems to have the idea that we bought this lovely huge chaise as HIS chair. I woke up the morning after it was delivered to find him laying on it. Once he saw that I was watching, he rolled on his back to show his belly in the 'aren't I the cutest cat ever?' pose. (Good thing I selected 'Scamp' as the color of this thing!) Tonight, after coming home from being out, he was splayed on the chair and got off to greet us. He shot laser eyes at me as I got myself situated in my lovely new seat. As if I was stealing his throne. Do I need to find a cat-sized version of this thing for him?

Because this has been one tough week. I'm so fried, I can't even think of anything good to post. My thoughts center around getting my head and pillow velcroed together as soon as possible. Just as soon as I get the cat relocated off my legs. He lays on my bags to ensure I don't escape, failing to realize that as soon as I stand up, he's off like a shot, trying to get out onto the lanai. So, he started a new thing of laying on my feet. He ends up there for about 20-30 minutes. He needs to move...

Are just as obnoxious as dog farts. In case you were wondering, wonder no more. Hey, you're not paying for insightful and intelligent posts, this is what you get tonight. Besides, I need to evacuate the area...

The kitty thinks that we cannot resist his charms. It must be ingrained that they show the belleh and get the hoomans to do their bidding. However, he is puzzled by me, because I don't get up to pet him. I can resist the belleh and often do. It's pretty funny to see him confused that his tricks don't work on all de hoomans. In some respects, this is my own version of 'messing with Sasquatch,' only he doesn't have thumbs, therefore, he can't throw crap at me. Win-win!

The birds will think I'm one of them with this brilliant disguise, right?

I iz the ruler of dis house. The hoomans, they think they run the place, but it is MY house. They put silly things on me and take my picture. I ask "Why ME?" Oh, right. They shower me with the love and adoration I deserve. I guess I will put up with teh silly hoomans and do what they want. For today.

Because it might be very, very scary! Witness the cat and his desire for the string from one of my party balloons: Once he actually got hold of the string, the mylar bouncing along the wall made a HUGE sound that you can't hear on the video and he ran to the other side of the room and looked at the string nervously. If I showed the full video, you would hear me and Ed laughing hysterically for about 10 seconds. He tried grabbing it earlier, but I must have distracted him when I reached into my purse to get the Flip. Next time, I've got to make sure I'm on the other side of the room so I can show this comedy in all its glory!

The cat is annoyed at me. Yesterday, I was cleaning and rearranging things in preparation for a small graduation party. He was miffed, because some of his perches within the house were moved. Then today, we spent most of the day cleaning in preparation and he was spooked. He hid in GameTeen's room, a place he rarely goes. While we had guests, he didn't want to be out-in fact, he hid. As my bedroom was closed off, he couldn't go to his favorite hiding place, under my bed. Instead, he chose a spot in GameTeen's room where nobody would find him Now, almost two hours after the last guest has departed, he's still in there. I tried to bring him out, but he was having nothing to do with me. However, he did something he's never done before-curled up next to GameTeen on the bed. He's never had this many people in the house with him before. I guess he doesn't like it. He'll need to work on his hiding places, though!

While Ed was out this afternoon, Scamp opened our closed bedroom door and camped out under my bed. He's still there, just out of reach. While I love that we got a king bed 99.9999% of the time, I don't like the fact that I can't reach Scamp to remove him from the bedroom. Meanwhile, I have cat allergies. When I did the skin patch testing, there was a quarter sized welt on my arm. I asked the nurse "what is THAT?" and she nonchalantly replied "Oh, that's cat." I had no idea, because I'd never lived in a house with one. When Game Teen had the same skin patch testing when he was three, same deal. Huge welt, larger than all the rest. I think it upset Ed, an avid cat person, that his house had two people allergic to cats. I'm partial to owning dogs, so we have been at an impasse for a while. Until now. I think tomorrow's plans include a trip to Home Despot to get a couple of doorknobs that are not of the lever variety, then to find som...