A Tribute to the One I Love Who Riddled Me With Anxiety and Almost Gave Me an Ulcer a/k/a Please Don't Do That Again*

Oh, Brad. From the moment you entered our lives, you entered my heart. Then you stole it every time you sat on my lap and looked up at me adoringly.  B was a little slower to give his heart away, but once you started showering him with affection, it was all over.

So when B called me Monday evening at the office raging about how the delivery guy dropped off a package and let you out, I was fearful we would never see you again.

B insisted I track down our delivery driver because he was hopping mad. That conversation proved to be futile and just got me hopping mad:

Lady: How can I help you?

Me: I need to find out who our driver is. He let our cat out and now he is missing!

Lady: I cannot give you that information.

Me: What do you mean you cannot give me that information? How can you not know who delivered our package? Aren't they scanned?

Lady: I do not have that information, but have you checked in your yard for the cat?

Me: No. I haven't. I THOUGHT I COULD JUST CALL YOU AND THE DRIVER COULD COME BACK AND DRIVE ME AROUND TO FIND THE CAT! OF COURSE I CHECKED MY YARD.

Me: Sorry, I am upset.  Maybe the driver could give us an idea of where the cat went.

Lady: I cannot track that.

Me: Really? I find this hard to believe since your business is TRACKING! YOU TRACK PACKAGES BUT DON'T KNOW WHO DELIVERED THEM? IS THIS A JOKE?

It was no joke. You were gone.

B took two bicycle rides and walked Jersey around the neighborhood twice. He saw no less than 20 stray cats. You were not one of them. I kept saying that I thought you would just appear walking all stiff legged toward me like you do.

So I took my laptop on the front porch and waited, but you never came.  B put out food and tuna (when have you ever had tuna?) hoping you would get hungry and come back at some point.  But we were worried about you without any claws. We have heard the street cats fighting.  How would you have a chance? You are too sweet.

B declared you dead.  Chester and Mooch had a meeting on the dining room table and eyed me suspiciously, convinced I had something to do with your disappearance. I couldn't tell if they were happy or not.

We were definitely not happy.

We went to bed sad and worried.  I didn't want to lose my little streetcat and I hoped that you would just miraculously make your way home and back to your favorite places to sleep.

I went to bed with positive thoughts and when B woke me up at 5 am declaring Christmas had come, I welcomed you into my arms and bed despite your crusty fur and dirty looking self.

To me, you were beautiful.

Welcome back home, Brad. Now, DON'T EVER ESCAPE AGAIN!**






*Also know as longest post title ever!
**Turns out that the delivery person did not let Brad out but may have spooked him into jumping out a screen.  B is currently working on the screen. The cats are currently banned from the catio.

If You Ask, You Shall Receive. Unless You Ask for Something I Don't Have, Don't Want to Give or is Very Expensive...

Jamie requested more puppy pictures. I was happy to oblige although at the rate Jersey is going, I am not sure how much longer we can call her a puppy.

One of Jersey's favorite things to do is play with Brad. And by play with Brad, I mean practically eat his entire head in one large bite. The thing is, Brad does not seem to mind and in fact engages her and bites her right back.

Here we have Jersey pinning Brad down:

And then Jersey goes in for the ear:

Brad responds by biting Jersey's cheek:

And so it continues until Brad breaks free or we separate them:

No one ever seems to get hurt.

In other news, Jersey still thinks she is a tiny puppy that can fit into the cat bed:

Busted!

Remember when Chester thought he could fit in there too? Well, hell, I am not sure I even took a picture of that. It did happen though! It must be a fat animal in a little bed syndrome.

Great. Now I have THAT song stuck in my head!*

*I am referencing the Fat Guy in a Little Coat song from that Chris Farley movie.

**I just realized there was an asterisk in yesterday's post but no explanation. It is a mystery, folks. Or one of those fill in the blanks books. YOU get to decide what the heck I was talking about.

Lil B's Version of a Window Seat Has a Whole New Meaning

Brad takes window seats to a whole new level. Yes, that is the shadow of my laptop in the window. We were scared if we went to get the camera, he would move. These photos are courtesy of Photo Booth which required us to stand in acrobatic poses in order to manage not to get our faces in there as well.

A perfect way to spend a hot, muggy June day. Lil' B is a genius!

B's Words of Wisdom: Being a Tiger isn't Worth Losing a Cat

All of the talk recently about Tiger Woods and his many women, coupled with his apology "press conference" where he robotically told everyone he is sorry and will do better or whatever, has prompted some interesting conversations around these parts. Mostly from B.

The first pronouncement had to do with the quality of the women Tiger chose. I tend to agree. Did you notice they got worse in the looks department with every new one?

Then came the pronouncement that B's job is not worth losing over those women. Suffice it to say, B isn't that crazy about his job.

Finally, however, was the creme de la creme of comments. That is when B said:

"I wouldn't even risk losing my relationship with Brad for those women."

And he said that as if his relationship with Brad meant so little. Really, B? I think you two are closer than you would like everyone to know.

I submit Exhibit A, where B pretends he does not like Brad:

Exhibit B, however, shows that he actually does like Brad, and Brad's kisses:

Exhibit C shows that he even likes when Brad kisses his eyes:

Case closed, ladies and gentlemen.

These two are in love.

The First Step in Holiday Party Planning: Get Thee a Tree!

I wish I could say that I have wonderful pictures of B and I picking out our tree, but I think you know better. First, it was dark. Second, it was COLD. Third, I didn't even think about bringing a camera. I am truly a deficient blogger.

After a relatively short time on the lot we found our tree. Well, as B calls it "YOUR tree." That is because it apparently wasn't the straightest tree on the lot. How was I supposed to know? I am not a tree/plant specialist. I didn't study horticulture. I know someone that did though. *Ahem*.

Anyway, the tree is nice and full even if it does cop a slight lean. Although we had originally planned to put it in the center of our main living room window, the tree was just too large. It does fit nicely in the corner though:

Awww...pretty tree.

Pretty tree with a slight curve to it.

Looking good!

What is the next step in this process? Why, taking blurry pictures of your husband hanging lights on said tree.

I will master this camera one day. In the meantime, I liked how the lights looked with those unintentional special effects.

B was multitasking - tree lighting and football watching. And, finally, with all of the decorations on the tree, the stockings* hung, and a little village placed in the nook above our fireplace with a fire roaring, we were done:

I also like this warm effect on my camera. It captures what the room looked like but even warmer.

What a beautiful room! Good job on the lights and village B. I will take credit for decorating the tree.**

*I have two stockings*** and B has none. At first he only put my two out there. Finally I found a stocking for him. It doesn't have his name on it so he is crying "no fair."

**I suspect B moved some bulbs and ornaments around after I was done.****

***Everyone asks why I have two stockings and I say "because my parents love me THAT much." Actually the one on the right is from 1977 that my Dad decorated. I am not sure abut the one on the left. B's stocking from childhood is still at his parents' house. I would also like you all to know, it was B that hung these up, not me. Oh, and thanks former owners for leaving us those hooks. Curtains on the windows would have also been nice and contractually mandated, but thanks for those hooks. Really.

****We can all think Lil' B a/k/a Brad the Cat for undecorating the tree. So far the casualty count is 4.

The Little B That Could, and Will, and Does...

When I first told you about our new cat Bradford a/k/a Lil' B* back in September, the real B told me that I took crappy pictures. He is right. That little kitten was a bundle of energy and it was hard to capture anything but a blur. However, in the week or two after, I managed to get some good ones. I can hardly believe that was two months ago. My how Brad has grown. These are all pre-growth spurt:

This is when Brad was still living on the back porch in quarantine because of his runny face and lack of shots as he was too young:

A curious kitty:

Naturally, we would do a side-by-side comparison of Brad with the fattest cat. We are mean like that. Although, we did not force Mooch to go through the same thing as Mooch would not come near Brad:

And for length comparison:

Eventually Brad made his way inside and has not left, with the exception of trips to the vet. He prefers the inside now and is still a curious cat. He likes to watch B on the computer:

Looks like they were doing important stuff right there. Brad also found his own mini TV to watch the fish:

He is like a child sitting up so close to the "TV" like that.**

Brad also found his own unique way to drink from the cats' drinking fountain:

He still drinks like that. Drives me crazy. It also makes the water dirty, but I guess the cats don't mind.

This picture is to show you Brad, but to also show you our old oven, the Ropermatic. I say old because we got a new one. I will post about it this week. It was going to be today, but someone forgot to charge her camera:

Look at that face. He looks like a little lion or tiger or other fierce animal:

That's our Lil' B. Now he has been in the house for two months and he is kicking ass and taking names. Those names are Chester and Mooch. For the most part, Brad rules the roost. It is hilarious.

At first we couldn't imagine another cat. Now we could not imagine Brad not being here stirring up trouble and purring in our laps. The perfect little cat family.

We must be nuts.

*I also call him B, Baby B, and Purrball.

**You have to check out this post about my nephew watching football. Too hilarious.

Harvest Day

That was the title of the text message B sent me yesterday. I opened it to find these:

Remember when he told me he was growing a giant pumpkin? Little did I know he was growing 17 of them, give or take a few. When I got the message I told him I had a difficult time ascertaining their sizes, so he sent this one as a gauge:

Much better than a beer can, right?

That was fun and exciting and I congratulated B on being an excellent pumpkin farmer. I thought about showing off the picture to my coworkers but got distracted. Once I got home, however, I realized I had something much bigger to show off. These:

Yes, there are some of those giant pumpkins just sitting in my backyard.

Look how big!

Look how beautiful in colors. Our neighbor who used to hate us and now loves us came out to say we should do a fall display or something. I was thinking that too. For once, I want to be the envy of our block. I want to the be the neighbor one upping someone else. Yes, maybe I am bitter.

Anyhow, another good way to gauge the size is with a big cat:

Doesn't Chester look thrilled there?

And even more so there. You know what else is good? Gauging it with a very small cat:

Can you spot Brad?

What about now?

There you have it, folks. B's big pumpkins. Isn't he a great pumpkin farmer?

Stay tuned for more gourd* magic...

*I still cannot spell that word. @#%^@#&@