Tag Archives: crazy cats

Why are you so weird?, Part Deux



The story continues….

Shortly after I posted yesterday’s cartoon, I walked into the kitchen to this. Was Duncan emulating his smudged brother? Did he feel left out? Did he find some flour or powdered sugar?

No. Duncan, in his quest for claiming/loving everything he loves, found the paint on the wall or paint tray that Adam was using I the basement as he was priming the walls down there. Seriously Duncan? Paint? What is with you?!? Why would you rub yourself on wet paint?

I tried to get some off and succeeded in sparing his little chin of his embarrassing mark but wasn’t able to get it completely off his lip (do cats have lips?). He had to live with that little reminder….for at least a day or so until it came off. Luckily for him most of it is off already this morning!

Hear ye, hear ye! (Did you ever wonder how that was spelled? I didn’t until today, trying to figure out how to type it.)

She would bite; that's why there's "Biterella" on there...

She would bite; that's why there's "Biterella" on there...

I just came back from hanging out with my mom tonight, so I’ll post something Mom related.

My mom got a kitten when I was about 10 years old.  Well, maybe I was like 11 or 12.  Anyway, my mom got a kitten when my brother and I were in our formative middle school-ish years.

She was a cute little kitten with a spot on her tiny head that was both the shape and color of a peanut.  That’s why we named her Peanut.  Original, I know.

Peanut may have looked cute but Peanut had quite a personality catality.  She might let you pet her for about 5 – 10 seconds, no exaggeration, after which time she would promptly bite your hand.  Every time.  Then she would run away.

For a while she would growl at, then proceed to chase, her tail.  A lot.  Now, I don’t want to divulge any of Peanuts secrets too much but she may have been on anti-psychotic medication.   I would have to jam a half a pill down her throat with my finger.  I got pretty good at doing it, too, which is saying a lot for doing that to a cat that will tolerate you touching her for mere seconds, let alone jamming a foreign object in her mouth and down her throat all while pretty much sitting on top of her to make it happen.

Needless to say, this medical therapy did not last long.

There’s not too much more to say about Peanut today, except that if she were a Golden Girl, she’d be Sophia.  Sassy, sharp-tongued, and not willing to deal with anyone else’s crap.  That’s Peanut.