Twang Your Magic Twanger, Froggie!

Ha! I read what The Whip said about my intelligence.... and he's right! What he didn't say is how much smarter I am than him. I've always been able to entertain myself but he needs Mom or Dad to play with him. When Dad first built our kitty kage he hung a bungee cord, with a feather on the end of it, from the underside of the roof. He would then pull the cord way back and let it sail. Whip and I would run up the spiral staircase to catch the feather. This was so much fun. But since our parents couldn't be out there constantly twanging the bungee cord, I had to take matters into my own hands, I mean paws. I had to stand on my hind legs to be able to just barely grab the feather in my mouth, then I would walk backwards with it as far as the cord would allow me, use one of my front paws to position the cord better and then let it go ...T-w-a-a-a-n-g! I would run up the pole, catch the dang thing, release it and start all over again. Mom and Dad would watch me do this from the kitchen window. I could tell they were awe struck by the way their jaws hung open. Unfortunately, after twanging it so many times the cord lost some of its elasticity and now isn't so much fun anymore. One can only hope Mom or Dad will replace it one of these days so we can again play with it.

I also play with a little green plastic ball, about the size of a ping pong ball. I bat this all over the house. It makes a great clacking noise on the hardwood floors. Now and then someone will roll it across the floor to get my attention, but I'm perfectly able to play with it on my own. And when it goes under the couch or somewhere I can't reach it, I just sit and stare at the spot it went under until someone gets it out for me. When I'm done playing I pick it p in my mouth and drop it in the box where I keep it.

And to prove what great motherly instincts I have, I must tell you about my little "pink baby". Mom and Dad would say this is only a pink vinyl cord that once held a feather on its end, but I know better. I carry "my baby" all around the house with me, dropping her by the food dish at din din time so she can eat too. Sometimes I put her in Dad's slippers to keep her warm at night. Mr Whipple never comes near her. He knows better!

I'm also very good at the computer. The above picture shows me studying the music video screens. While Mr.Whipple likes to sit on Moms lap and push the keyboard in so she can't type, I sit right in front of the monitor so I can learn what's new in the world, read her e-mails and help her play her on-line games. I point out which jewel to click on when she plays Bejeweled. I just know she appreciates all my help.

And yes, I did deliberately knock a small book on the Whips' head one time when I'd had enough of his chasing me. Too bad I couldn't have reached a heavier book. It would have been so much more satisfying!

Cats Rule, Dogs Drool

As long as I have the keyboard to myself, I'll continue on. One of the many cool things about our kitty kage is the door mat. What? We're suppose to wipe our paws on it before we come in? Give me a break! Anyway, the cool thing about it is what's written on it ... Cats Rule, Dogs Drool. Now ain't that the truth! We cats are superior in all ways, just ask any one of us. For instance, have you ever seen a dog snub it's food? Not in my lifetime! Those idiots will eat anythng put in front of them. No discriminating tastes what so ever. Even my sister Charmin is smarter then any ol' dog. (Actually, she's quite intelligent, but don't tell her I said so.) But, I, of course, am the top dog, er, I mean cat. Charmin always has to play second fiddle to me, and she does it so well. She lets me eat first and leaves the comfort of the bed when I leap on it, and Mom. And of course, she has to cry for help when I happen to "squeeze the Charmin" just a little too much when I'm only playing with her. One time tho, she did get back at me, little stinker. We were having fun running thru the house, me chasing Charmin when she jumped up on the bookshelf to flee my pursuit. I was crouched down below it, contemplating my next move, when she gave me this evil look, reached down to a shelf holding minature books and deliberately pushed one off, bonking me on the head with it. OW! Of course, Mom got a good laugh out of that one, at my expense I might add. Why do women always have to stick together? No matter, I know I'm the alpha male. Well, actually, other than Dad, I'm the only male. But it's a real ego trip to be the top cat of the house. I generally get my way in things, especially with my Dad who fawns over me. Charmin is the Mama's girl. There you go again, those women sticking together. But that's ok, to each his own, hehe.

Our Outside Friends

Ok, Charmin, move over, let the man take over the keyboard. These women are just too gabby. I'll just tell it like it is. Let's see now, what was the subject? Oh yeah, our outside friends. It's really cool to be able to meet all these woodland creatures and not have to worry about being someone's breakfast. We've come nose to nose with these HUGE black critters more then once. Dad says they're bears but I'm not sure. They're awfully big to us little guys. Some of the braver ones have come right up to our kitty kage to check us out. They like to eat the sunflower seeds Mom and Dad put out for the birds on the huge feeder a few feet away from our enclosure. (I think they actually put it out for the bears.) Dad likes to tell the story of the very first bear he saw... before Char and I came to live here. He heard something rattling the garbage can out back, and thinking it was a raccoon,he threw open the back door and let out a loud roar to scare it away. Well, when a bear stood on it's hind legs and roared back at him, they both took off running. Dad for the safety of the house and the bear for the safety of the woods. Mom got a good laugh out of that. Needless to say, the garbage cans are no longer left outside.

Our favorite friends have to be the big brown doggies with the long legs and big doe eyes. Sometimes whole families come to visit. Of course, this means Mom can't plant any flowers outside of a fenced in area. They already think the fiddle ferns and blackberries are a smorgasbord salad. Throw a few tulips in and they are in deer heaven. Sure glad I don't have to rely on mother nature for my food. I'd starve to death, being the typical finicky eater we cats are known to be.
Being the great hunter I am, one would think my prey would be in short supply being penned in, but nooooooo. Every once in a while a really stupid mole will tunnel his way into our pen and pop up right in front of us! I grab it before Charmin has a chance to even blink and take it in to my dad, who praises me up one side and down the other, while Mom cringes. Then we stare at the hole for a good two weeks just to make sure the rest of his family doesn't decide to follow in his footsteps, hope, hope.

And of course, we like to watch the squirrelly squirrels and chipmunks that also like to eat the black oil sunflower seeds, and all the little birdies flitting around their bird seed mix. Come to Poppa! There are some birds tho that I wouldn't dream of messing with, even if I had the chance. They come early in the spring. First a sentinel will come and land on the feeder roof, checking things out, making sure it's safe. Once he feels secure he calls the rest of his cronies over and dozens of these huge ring tail pigeons will land on the feeder. For being so big, they sure are "fraidy cats" tho. Any little movement and they all take off. The flapping of their wings sounds like a jet engine to my sensitive ears. Mom and Dad can even hear them in the house! Hmmmm, isn't pigeon under glass considered a delicasy?

Indoor/Outdoor carPets

Right from the "git go" our parents decided we were not going to be allowed to roam free in the great outdoors.. They had lost their last dear kitty, Figgy, to the mean streets of the mountain and weren't going to take any chances with us. (For which we are most thankful. It can be a big cruel world out there for little kitties.) However, after a few months of our running thru the house at top speed and longingly staring out the windows, our dad took pity on us. He gave Mom the choice of building her the pond she always wanted or building a huge cat pen for us. Well, there was never any question as to her answer to that one! Our house already had an 8 x 20 foot over hang behind it that Dad was just using to store his unimportant junk under. (Two by fours and stuff for his job, sheesh.) But being the great guy he is, he moved everything and framed in our pen, adding carpeted runs at different interesting levels, a spiral staircase going to the ceiling, a bungee cord with a feather attached, soft cedar shavings to walk on. It regular palace! Of course we love it. Only problem was getting to it. Dad installed two pet doors, one from the kitchen into the garage, the other from the garage door into our pen. Well, I wasn't about to be the first one to put my nose up against that plastic! Mom and Dad made complete fools of themselves, crawling around on their hands and knees, coaxing us to go through the pet doors. Where's a video camera when you need one? Finally Mr. Whipple stopped laughing long enough to push the door open with his paw and go through. Once I saw that it was safe, I gave it a try using the same paws first method. It worked, but drats! That just got us into the garage. We had to do it again to get out to our kitty kage. Looking back at it now, I wonder what all the fuss was about. Now we go flying in and out of those doors like the Hounds of Baskerville were on our tails. However, our favorite way into our play pen in the summer is still through the kitchen window above the sink that our parents so thoughtfully leave open and unscreened for us. (Good thing we live in Oregon where the bugs aren't too plentiful. Altho, it is fun trying to catch the few flies and moths that get into the house.) We spend many satisfying hours out in our kitty kage getting fresh air but remaining safe. Next time I write I'll tell you about all the kewl woodland friends we have made while out there.

Our Humble Beginnings

I always had the cool name of Charmin, because I'm the soft and fluffy one. My brother was named Streak, cuz he tears around like a bat out of #$!!. But when we were presented to our new parents they wanted to change my brothers name, thank goodness. Trying to decide what went well with Charmin, a co-worker of my mom said, "Why, Mr. Whipple, what else? So he became Mr. Whipple and many a time when he plays too rough, he gets told to "Please don't squeeze the Charmin". I call him The Whip for short, as he still runs around like a crazy fool. We got really lucky and ended up with parents who just adore us... who wouldn't? They've been cat lovers from way back so we almost always get our way. Except when it comes to walking on the computer keyboard, then Mom gets a little upset. That's why we decided to start our own blog. Now we have a reason to use a paws on approach to the computer. We might let her look over our shoulder a little as we type this just to make sure it all comes out purrfect. Hope you'll join us as we take turns telling you our tail.