Lady Katherine Tallahassee Berryhill

Kat is a second-hand kitty, she came to us in April of 2004 from a farm in Tallahassee, FL. Her owner had died and one of his final requests was that she be placed on another farm out in the country. She was about a year old. I would chat on about her as I have with our ther pets, but Kat speaks for herself:

 

My Origins:
I was born, one of six kittens, 2 grey, 2 black and white, one stripey and me, a calico wonder to behold. My mother was not a calico, but her mother was. There are no boy calicos because boys are too gross. I lived in Florida, a land of sun and sun. When I was weaned, I was the first of my litter to be chosen, due to my overwhelming beauty and the fact that I could catch grasshoppers by the time I was six weeks old.

I was taken to live on a farm, in a barn, to catch mice. My attendant at that time was a single man, rather old and very soft. He would sit on the porch and pet me and when he came to the barn, he would pet me. He said he had no use for a cat, other than to mouse, but he always brought me scraps of chicken and talked to me when he saw me. When I had been there a while, the county animal control came around offering a local 'spay station' which meant they catnapped me and put me in a cage and made me go to sleep and when I woke up, I felt sore all over.

My attendant came and rescued me, I imagine he had to beat them up or something. There were other animals in the van, but he only wanted me, just like always. While I recovered from the ordeal, I stayed in his house. He had a litter pan and a bowl with my food and I stayed inside a whole week, going back and forth from the couch to the bed to the porch, once I got back on my feet. He would sit and rub on me, which I liked. One day he said it was time to go back out, there were still mice to be had in that barn.

I started spending my days in the barn and my nights in the house, curled up on the bed. My attendant liked having me around, I could tell, and he talked to me all the time. One day, he did not get up to let me out, so I stayed around inside most of the day. He finally let me out, but then did not let me back in. I worried I had done something, over the next few days, everything was different. People I did not know were coming in and out of our house and my attendant had stopped attending me. They would shoo me away when I tried to get on the bed to see him. I finally ran to the barn to hide and wait for him to beat up these new people and come get me again.

He never did. Instead, a woman in a little car came and got me. She said she had a new home for me. I tried to tell her I had a home already. My attendant always said not to talk when others are talking, so I saw the miles race past while someone I could not see was talking, a 'book on tape' I heard the voice say. When they would stop, I tried to tell her I had a home, I wanted to go back. I was very scared. She seemed nice enough, but she was not my attendant.

The car finally stopped, I don't know how long. We were at that Dr. Crider's place. I did not know it then, but I know it now. When the spay station had come around, they had put staples in me when they knocked me out. I had kept them clean, and my fur had grown back over them, but the lady and the doctor agreed they did not belong in there. It hurt some, but I was mostly scared. After they were out, my belly itched for a day or two, but it was good to have them gone. We got back in the car, she said it would not be much longer, we were nearly there.

When the car stopped again, I hopped out and ran away immediately, heading for some bushes that looked like the ones beside my barn. She came and got me again, I was so confused, I did not know where to run, so I didn't. She carried me to a house I had never seen. There were MORE new people in it, they turned out to be the new attendants and their kittens, they had a barn and mouse problem. So I settled with them for the time being. I was so tired and confused from the long trip. They let me hide under the house, I let them pet me after a while. I found out I was in Alabama, which is a land of sun and rain and cold and sun again.

The mouse problem here is under control. Sometimes the lady that brought me here comes back, but she never takes me with her. I hope my first attendant does not miss me too much, I think about him sometimes. I like to sit in the barn here and think he is on the way to see me. I don't do it as much as I used to, I have lived here far longer than I lived with him.

I like it here, the kittens keep me on my toes, the attendants take good care of me. There is always fresh food and water and litter, if I need it. There is an unfortunate pest problem with PH and Nermal and the ever-looming Dr. Crider the Tail-Chopper to worry about. But I am happy, if I had to go anywhere, I am glad the lady brought me here.

I have decided to start keeping a diary.

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Dear Diary,

Today it is raining. I stayed inside to have a nap but the kittens are being rowdy. I had to glare at them several times before I finally shut my eyes.

After I got up, I checked the bowl, no tuna. I came in the A room and hopped up on the bed to make myself more accessible to A1, who was already there reading another book. She must go through 15 books a month and I have not seen a single cat on any of the covers.

Attendant 1, or A1 as I like to think of her is my primary attendant. She feeds and brushes me and changes my water every morning and night and she obsesses over my litter box. Twice just this week she vacuumed up around it and changed the litter. She told me something when she had to do it the second time, but I shut my eyes and did not hear her.

A2 does not do so much. However, he likes to tell me I am beautiful. He says I am soft like a bunny (my favorite snack!) and is willing to pet me far longer than A1 does. Other than my attendants, there are three kittens in the house. MK or Male Kitten is the biggest. He is loud and runs and eats and that is all I can tell he contributes to the house. GK is a female kitten and has loads of tiny horses in her floor and a whole miniature house with people and furniture. I love to knock them over with my paw. The Runt is another male and you have to watch out for him, he loves to pet me, but once he got distracted and bounced my head against the couch cushion. I spent the next 3 days shooting him dirty looks.

At night, I have to sleep in different beds. A1 does not attend the kittens well enough and she separates them for sleep. Therefore, I have to move around each night. Some nights I sleep with GK and some with MK, but my favorite place is with Runt. He is in a little nest bed way above the ground. To get there, I have to go up a ladder and I can see everything. Runt is small and I can lie on my side, push my back against the side of the bed, and push him with my feet until he touches the other side of the bed. This gives me nearly the whole bed, because once that kitten is asleep, he does not move.

Once a week or so, I sleep in my own bed. The attendants sleep at one end every night, keeping it warm for me. Even if I do not stay all night in my bed, I check on the warming progress at 2:45 a.m. without fail. At this point in the night, A1 is just laying there, so I use her hand to pet myself by nosing it up and shoving my head underneath and walking, so that she rubs all the right spots all the way down my back. I can do this a do zen times and sometimes I get so excited, I purr.

A1 has tried to avoid petting me the full quota by keeping her hands under the blankets, but I have found if I ram her in the eye with my muzzle, she will free a hand and I can start the auto-petter. Once, she tried to lock me out, but I lay down and yowled under the door until she opened it again. She has not done it since.

A1 not only neglects me, but she is awful to the kittens. First, she never feeds them mouse, bird, bunny or even grasshoppers. I bring these things to her at least once a week; she does not seem able to find them for herself. She has not taught them to hunt, just gives them ‘school work’ and makes them read to her and write numbers and lets them loose in the yard. I have brought several still-alive mice into the house and let them go in hopes that she will finally teach them something useful, but no! Can you imagine-she catches it in a ‘humane trap’ and puts them back outside!

Well, all this chatter has me worn to a frazzle. I am going to go check for tuna and then have a nap.

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Dear Diary,

Today, A1 crossed the line. I heard the can opener-a sure tuna sign if ever there was one. I went in and demanded my share, so A1 dipped her finger in the open can and lowered me down a chunk of yummy, delicious…what? It was CARROT. I had to stalk off AND glare AND shut my eyes when I saw her the next 3 times. All that effort has worn me out. I need a nap.

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Dear Diary,

Tonight, I was in my bed. A1 has put a new blanket on it. It is not as heavy as the one she usually uses. At first, I was not pleased, as I was not consulted. Soon I lost interest in everything but the bed mice that have moved in! There are four of them and they live under the new blanket. I have bitten them, jumped on them, and tried to dig them out of the blankets. A1 keeps yelling and wiggling the covers. I know she is just frightened of the bed mice being so close to her and under the covers and all. I tried to tell her to quit flapping the blanket and I could go for the coup de grace and kill at least one of them. She-get ready because it is so bad-put me OUT the window. Oh!

Just wait until the bed mice attack her, she will be sorry!

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Dear Diary,

Tonight I went back to my bed to look for the mice. They were hiding out of sight, but A1 had her foot sticking out from under the covers. I promptly forgot about the mice and tried to have my favorite snack, toes. She hollered and—dare I admit? I must. She put me BACK out the window.

I snuck back in, as GK has a low window and a soft heart. As soon as I could (after a nap and a bite to eat), I stole back in the A room and hopped up on the chest at the foot of the bed. A1 and A2 were sound asleep. I got there just in time! The bed mice, sensing A1 turning, repositioned themselves for the attack! I had mere seconds to kill them before they got her! I lunged, bit and was too slow! I got one of them, but the other got A1 because she yanked off the covers, turned on the light, said some bad words, and told A2 something had bitten her! Sure enough, there were little fang marks on her foot! She was sure lucky I was there, it could have been worse.

However, when she saw me, she told A2 * I * attacked her! That wretched ingrate

AND she put me BACK out the window and told me to go find some defenseless woodland creature to maim. I do not know why, she will not let me bring it in if I did!

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Dear Diary,

A1 KEEPS letting the kittens out without any supervision. She lounges on her hammock and reads while they run around in the yard. It is all I can do to keep up with them and up until a few weeks ago, there was a dog out there all the time. Oh, that was a time for me! He would chase me and I always had to slap him around. I like to take my time and swish my tail-it is so long and pretty. That dog BIT my tail! A1 had to take me to the vet who said he could cut it off, but A1 said she would wait and see. Joy, it healed, but I had to lie on my side under the bed and A1 had to use a washcloth and clean me and feed me one bite at a time. I miss that part of it, but I am glad to be up and have my own baths now. I mostly miss the way A1 had to crawl to reach me while I was hiding, I mean convalescing, under the bed.

By the time I was fully able to use my tail again, the dog was gone. Good thing for him too, I had been practicing my hiss and spit technique with the kittens. They kept poking their bald faces under the bed skirt and asking if I was okay. I got good at growling, too. I figured that if it sent the likes of THOSE rowdy kids running, the dog probably would have wet himself.

Sometimes I miss getting to slap at him and I have had to be more careful with what I shred and chew because there is no one to pin it on anymore. Case-in-point, A1 caught me chewing her mouse cord the other day. I was JUST trying to see if it tasted like real mouse. Geez!

I am going to have a nap.


Dear Diary,

Today, I smelled tuna, but did not hear the can opener. I went to see and A1 and GK were dumping tuna out of a packet! Like the kind of packet that has my squishy food in it! I was SO happy, I started purring and wrapping around their feet-FINALLY, I was getting the tuna I so desperately crave. But wait, what was in that little packet? NO, do not put that on my TUNA! It was pickle relish! Oh the felinity! They smeared gobs of MY tuna onto crackers and ate it all! It was horrible. Now I know those stacks of packs in the cabinet are filled with tuna! Now I just have to wait for A2 to come home, he has thumbs and will do as I command.

I must think of a way to rid myself of A1, I am going to have a nap.

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Dear Diary,

Today I nearly had an embarrassing accident! I was outside napping and had to go! I had to meow SEVEN times before A1 let me in. I rushed to my box and in my haste, scattered litter all over the floor. But, WHEW, I made it! As I let myself back out the still-open window, I could hear A1 in there talking about the mess I made. She had no idea how close it was to being a REAL mess, if I had not gotten inside when I did...*shudder*

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Dear Diary,

This morning, I was giving A1 her mandatory facial inspection while she was trying to sleep. I find this to be the only time I can get her to let me close to her head. First, I stuck my paw in her mouth to check her breathing and reflexes. She had both. A few minutes later, I came back to jab up her nose with MY nose in an effort to pre-breathe her air and thus allow her an easier time of inhaling. I only got in one good breath before she showed me her reflexes again. I need to be sure to tell her that is only to be part of the mouth-breathing test and not the pre-breathing help I am giving her. She must have gotten confused.

When she had been still for several minutes, I climbed back up for the last-effort and that was to see if I could keep her eyes shut with my paws while shoving my nose back up her nose. I have concluded that the opening of the eyes is what starts the downfall of my experiments. I had tried this before using a top-down approach and laying my entire body over her whole face, but it did not work. My side-approach of laying across her face had similar results and this was no better, though I tried hard to cram as much nose in her nostril as I could.

She can move fast for a large woman and I was impressed that she could curse, open a window, poke me out and shut it within 2 seconds of waking up.

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Dear Diary,

Oh, I do not want to even talk about it. Nevertheless, here goes: earlier, I was practicing my runway walk on top of the bookshelf. Well, first I had to jump up there and THEN push all those pictures off and bat the spare change around. After THAT, I was swishing back and forth, as I always do, meowing and letting my tail wave about freely. Well, I turned and started back the other way and all the imagined paparazzi must have blinded me because I slipped and fell BEHIND the bookcase! I was wedged between the wall and the back of the case. I had to yell for help and of COURSE, it was A1 that came to She actually LAUGHED at me! Oh, it was horrible, just awful.

She got me out and pushed the bookcase closer to the wall, but I shall never forgive her. Next time I get up there, I will be sure to knock all of the pictures off the other side to fill in that gap.

I need a nap.

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Dear Diary,

A1 has redeemed herself somewhat. She moved another table in the feeding room JUST for me to stand on. A2 says it is my 'petting station' though I heard A1 say it was really an 'island'. I know that A1 abandoned her cat duties-not to mention the kittens and A2-to visit an 'island' during the summer. I cannot imagine why she packed so many things to go stand on a petting station, but now I know why she was so excited about going.

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Dear Diary,

A1 got a wild hair and decided to repaint the porch. I did not much care, but decided to check her progress now and then. She got A2 to help one day and the kittens painted the posts and windowsills while she painted the trim and ceiling.

When she got to the floor, I decided to inspect more closely. I mean, she is not very thorough and I have seen where she misses whole corners mopping the Feeding Room floor.

When I started out that morning, my beautiful feet were white, white, white and black. I walked across the floor-it was sticky-and started meowing out directions to A1, who dropped her roller (she really IS too sensitive) and scooped me off the porch! As soon as I touched the grass, I knew something was wrong.

Once, MK put TAPE on my back feet. It was A1’s idea; she has a mean streak under that squishy exterior. I flapped my feet around and they ALL laughed and A1 finally freed me from the horror. I nearly wore myself out glaring and everyone for the next 3 days and would not have bothered mentioning such a humiliating abuse except that it was exactly how I felt when I touched the grass.
I sat down and started looking at my feet. One, two, three, four…grey, grey, grey, grey. Oh the felinity! What happened? I mean, it is bad enough to be colorblind, but my feet had some contrast and were beautiful. Now, they were ALL the same color and the color was STICKY. I started chewing at my feet and A1-get ready, it is bad- A1 swooped down on me with a TOWEL. She wrapped me up, and just my feet stuck out. She must have taken me in the house because I heard water running. Water-I will just let that sink in for a second.

THEN, she put my foot IN the running water! I tried to rip her throat out, I did-but the towel, oh the towel! Then I growled, kicked, and clawed her up. She held on anyway and started using a vegetable brush ON MY FEET. I hollered and acted most undignified and finally I must have passed out, because I went limp and she scrubbed faster.

I started listening. She was on the phone! She does not talk on the phone more than two times a week and here she was, chatting away. What was that? She was telling the person about ME! Oh, just wait! She told them what I did-walked in the paint and what kind of paint it was-oil-based floor sealant. Apparently, the idiot on the other end (I heard her call him Dr. Crider-which is the name of the man that gives me shots and pills and I hate him anyway-he tried to chop off my tail once!) agreed to her present course of action because she kept washing my feet! Hours and hours and hours later (I heard her tell A2 it took her about 15 minutes, but she tends to exaggerate) she turned of the water and patted my feet. I lay there, acting dead because I wanted her to think she was safe and I wanted her to be sorry she had killed me with water.

She lay me down on my bed and waved some tuna around. Well, that was the first sensible thing she had done all week. I decided to eat the tuna and chew open her throat after I had napped. She patted me and said things like, “I had to wash your feet” and “the paint would have killed you if you got it in your body”. At least she was in a ‘death’ sort of mind-set; I was going to introduce her to the grim specter myself. After my nap.

Lady Kat Sings the Blues

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Dear Diary,

Today I wanted outside the minute I woke up. It was boring out there, so I demanded reentry immediately. I heard the window close behind me and I heard something else…woodland creatures lining up for me to eat them! Quick, open the window again! I was back out and looking and looking…no, I must have been hearing something in the house.

I meowed my demands to go back in and A1 said I had to STAY in this time. Yeah, right. I went back out 2 minutes later via A2 and sat on the windowsill until I saw A1 and demanded she let me back in. hahaha

After I got in, I thought it was a bit stuffy inside, maybe I needed some fresh air. I got back out the front door thanks to MK. Oh, it was a bit chilly! Hmmm, maybe I should try the back door. I yowled and Runt let me back in and I went right through the house (checking my food bowl and having a bite) and yowled until A1 opened the back door while she was putting clothes in the washer. She said I had to stay OUT this time. So, of course, I had to come right back in.

I did this for a while, hearing woodland creatures and the call of the wild while I was inside and missing my bed and the never-ending waterfall of kitty kibble while I was outside. A2 suggested a cat flap. A1 said I would bring in dead things and not-dead things with free access and probably we would have possums and raccoons in the house as well.

I was outside and decided A1 must want me to STAY out so she could finish her peace offering for the whole horrid ‘water’ incident. The only thing THAT could be was a statue of me made from tuna. Oh, well, she may regain her life yet. I gave her 62 seconds to finish it and yowled to come back in. I went right to the feeding room and looked for it. I did not even SMELL any tuna!

I went back out after sending A1 a telepathic message containing her one redemption-the tuna statue. I gave her 47 seconds and came back in. No statue. Tonight, I will finally finish her off for…that thing…that she did…hmmm, was that the sound of chipmunks lining up?

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Dear Diary,

A1 and A2 came home with another DOG. She is a big, big, big thing. They can't decide what to name her. I just hope she is better at being trained than the last one, he chewed the siding right off the house! And he ate the porch and he destroyed all the yard toys and dug up A1's flowerbeds. He knocked over Runt and he was very, very naughty. When he came inside, he would growl if A1 told him to get off the furniture, she had to work with him all the time and he still would not obey. They gave him to another family with no little kids, no cats and that had another bigger dog. That was the best idea A1 had about that dog. The last straw was when he broke my tail, A1 said it could be one of the kittens next. I just wondered why it had to be me first!

Anyway, this new dog does not seem like Dom at all, she is already sitting on command, but I can tell it is just to get a treat. Bah, what foolishness! Treats for tricks, it's like Halloween. I am calling the dog Pumkinhead. Yeah, PH, that's perfect.

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Dear Diary,

PH has a name, it's Jessie. I am still calling her PH. Stupid thing keeps trying to get me to play! She chases me all over and though I hate to admit it, I ran some. I tried to stand my ground, but PH is SO big and she jumps like a rabbit on crack. That's what A2 says anyway. I laid in my chair tonight and she came into the kitchen. That dog has one thing on her mind and it is food. Except I read a farside cartoon once and the dog spelled it 'f-u-d' and I doubt PH could do ANY better. So she has fud on her mind. She did not see me because she was sniffing around the table, so I reached out and poked her twice. It's called 'counting coup' and it makes me a brave warrior.

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Dear Diary,

I almost wrote 'dairy' instead of 'diary' which brings me to more about PH the fud dog. She can't drink milk! A1 says she is lactose intolerant and that means she is stupid, but I heard the kittens talking about the GROSS poop she made outside and that means milk makes her tummy upset. A1 said she may outgrow it, but really, she is a PUPPY-what else WOULD she drink? No wonder her mother got rid of her. I am SO glad I don't have kittens of my own, I don't even want to think about the hassle and the wear and tear. Speaking of PH being a puppy, who ever heard of a puppy that big? Her feet are the size of my head and her head is the size of my whole body. What were they thinking?

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Dear Diary,

Today I washed myself and then had a nap in the sun. A1 built a platform just for me called a treehouse and the kittens keep getting on it, but they know it's mine. The wind was blowing and it ruffled some of my fur and so I had to re-lick it back in place. After I woke up, I climbed right up the tree and looked down and what was that? It was a small fluffy mouse JUST below me! I lunged for it-a mouse in MY tree! Well, I was on a branch, so I had to hang on, I flipped around but there it was again! I went around and around and around trying to catch it and A1 called the kittens to observe my prowess I thought, but no, it was to say I was chasing my tail in the tree! That liar! It was a mouse and it just got away and I did NOT chase my tail, that is for baby cats and dogs like PH, who thinks HER tail is a chewie and has made herself permanently dizzy chasing the thing.

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Dear Diary,

PH is growing ever bigger. A1 took her camping and THAT was a nice week off, and then she went to the vet overnight and came back looking like someone ran her over. I was hopeful, but no, she was just 'fixed'. I hope that means they took the chase out of her. And added more brain. I think she chased her tail until she addled herself, though who can tell? I wonder what they fixed?

Enough about THAT, more about ME! Today I laid on the clean laundry and I laid on the chairs and the couch. It is shedding season and I need to spread the love as much as possible. Did you know I have 50 billion hairs? A1 said she was going to hold me down and vacuum off my 50 billion hairs all at once instead of 1 at a time off the floor and everything else and I would look like a plucked chicken and MK said I would be about the size of a rat then. A RAT. These are terrible people I live with, comparing me with food. I never tell them, "I am going to cube you like tofu". But I do think it.

A1 started talking about the vet again today. I thought she was going to come up with a plan for squashing his evil regime of tail-amputation, but no. She was talking about taking ME there to see him! Says I need a kitty check-up. The horror-shots and he will look in my ears and that scale is always off by at least a pound. I am thinking of going into hiding.

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Dear Diary,

You will never believe what these people did. There I was, minding my own business, in some sort of treaty with PH and things are actually okay when they bring in a kitten! This thing is pathetic, all skin and bones and squeaky little mews. It eats and sleeps and wants to be held ALL the time. And it hisses at me and eats MY food. It has taken over MY litter box-though I have not used it in 4 months, you just never know when I might want to again. It is scrawny and ugly and it is shedding. The nerve, I mean PH is bad enough all on her own.

They are thinking of names for her. I am calling her Nermal after that horrid little kitten in the Garfield books GK is always reading. Ugh, this is awful. I have to go talk to PH about what we should do about this new animal in the house!

 

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Dear Diary,

Today, everyone went for a walk. Do you know how many steps I have to make to keep up with ONE of their steps? Five. To actually keep up, I have to trot a bit, which I refuse to do, so there I was, way behind and having to constantly meow for them to slow down. Do you know what happened? PH went too and she kept running back and LICKING me.

Guess where they stopped? The creek! That place is full of water and they let the kittens take off their shoes and get IN THE WATER. By the time I caught up, it was too late to do anything about it. I was very tired, seeing as how I had to walk and meow at the same time, it wore me out. So, I napped on their shoes, that way no one could go anywhere without me.

On the way back up the big hill, A2 carried me, which was fine and wonderful, but A1 popped out from behind a tree like a garden gnome on Miracle Grow and saw me being carried! Of course I had to leap down and stalk up the rest of the hill. I got a little lost, seeing how I had to keep shutting my eyes to show I did not care that A1 saw me being carried, so I had to meow for help. A2 came back and got me, but I was feeling skittish, no WAY could I been seen by anyone else being carried, so I leaped down again as soon as I had my bearings.

They walked across the pasture to the house, I had to go around the long way, keeping to the edges. It took me nearly forever, but a hawk could have gotten me out in the open, or a wild dog or coyote or PH might have tried to lick me more. Near the brushy edge of the woods, I could use my superior camouflage skills to blend right in. Plus, I could scoot under the brambles and escape, only after I terrified any potential attacker with a view of my fangs as I threw out a mighty hiss. They would be scared into being frozen stiff if I really attacked, which could lead to the problem of a crowded pasture, what with all the frozen catnivores out there.

By the time I got home and drug my tired paws and tail up and into the window and checked the cat food for potential danger by eating about a pound of food in under two minutes-hey, Nermal is stupid, she could choke on that stuff or something, I was trying to eat the whole bag to keep her from any danger, really. My work here is never done. By the time I finished all that, it was all I could do to update my diary. I am off to nap now. I hear there are clean sheets on all the beds. Like I said, my work here is never done.

Here I am, watching over the kittens at play in the creek. ................And here is PH just after she licked me! Ugh, she was WET, too.

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Dear Diary,

Where to begin? First of all, it's been hot this summer. I like laying in the sun and all, but this is more like laying in the oven by the time the day is half over. Nermal is still here, but we have entered an agreement. It's called 'I won't bother you if you don't bother me.' Sometimes it works and sometimes the little fluffball will lay across the door to the feeding room and act like she is asleep, blocking me from going in. A1 has a stash of rolled-up socks and she will throw them at us if we fight in the house, so I have to get up really close and hiss, "I'll claw out your eyes!" and make that throat noise that is so scary and she sometimes runs and sometimes she tries some threat of her own, though now that she is a grown cat, the only real threat she can make is one of eating all 2 pounds of food in the kitty hopper at once, which she could probably do, too. Fat cat.

In other news, we have a new dog. His name is...well, I don't care THAT much about him, so let's call him Fuzzbutt. He and PH are together ALL the time and even though he is nearly as big as she is, the Attendants AND the kittens call them both 'puppies' and are always saying he is still 'just a baby'. Yeah, a 60-pound infant with body hair issues. Fuzz does things like lay on his back with his legs thrown apart, showing his white patch and black belly, snorting and kicking and occasionally yipping-all while sound asleep. He barks when he gets really excited, like one big 'ROUFF' and I jump about 10 feet. That's about it for him. He does not really bother me, though to his good credit he chases Nermal when he sees her. He's no good to talk to and neither is PH now that he's around, all they want to do is sleep and sniff out trespassers and run and run around, jumping on each other and growling. Then they get bloodlust and Nermal gets chased. That's always good for a laugh, she trots, belly hanging and swinging, yelling, "Oh dear, oh dear!" She can't climb or anything useful, though she will sometimes stop, turn and try to remove the closest nose. Or she will run back the other way, through their long legs and they practically flip trying to get turned around while keeping an eye on her. So the summer has not been a total bore.

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Dear Diary,

Today, I was napping in my chair under the table in the kitchen. A1 made lunch and the kittens were all in their chairs and A2 came in and sat. Then A1 pulls out MY chair to sit down. She saw me and instead of transferring me to a satin pillow and carrying me to my bed as my look demanded, she says, "Scoot, you."

"you" My name is Lady Katharine Tallahassee Berryhill Seedling Slayer, Daughter of Barn Cat and Granddaughter of a Calico Queen, top of my litter, mouse and mole slayer, collector of heads, leaver of entrails and speaking of which, there is no way they could make it through the winter without the piles of mouse guts I leave on the front mat, A1 has NEVER caught a single mouse and A2 does not seem to do anything even remotely akin to hunting when he goes off every day in his little black car. I don't know how they all stay so plump. But yet she called me 'you'.

I stared at her long enough to be sure she saw I saw her and then shut my eyes. My chair. She...sensitive readers, you may want to skip this part, it is a description of terrible abuse. She tipped the chair. I had to open my eyes and grab on to keep from sliding off. She then tipped it THE OTHER WAY. Back and forth, like I was a loose tooth! I held on. She finally stopped and pulled out the chair next to mine, apparently seeing sense in giving up. But no, she slid out my chair, too and then SWAPPED them! As soon as she scooted the cat-free chair up to the table, I hopped over on it. She could HAVE that other chair, this one was nice and cool, I curled up and made my paws poke out the back slats, counting coup on her legs. I am sure it still counts if you are seen. I have 1 billion coup. Fuzz is not any brighter than PH and they both nose around under my chair all the time, so I poke them dozens of times a day.

A1 looks and sees right away what has happened. She has gotten the chair she wanted, cat free, and I am in the other chair. Funny I never noticed it before, it was so smooth and nice, much better than the other chair.
"What are you doing, Kat? The chairs are EXACTLY alike, WHY do you want the one I want to sit in?" What? I swear, she is SO dumb. She HAD the chair she wanted to sit in, I was now in the OTHER chair, the nicer one. They may match, but mine was better. She slid the chairs out again, swapping them around. She slid me in the new chair back under the table and pushed the other chair back where she planned to sit. I immediately saw it was nicer than the chair I was in. Why did I ever leave it? I don't know what I was thinking!

"Oh no you don't!" She scooped me up and put me out the front door. I sat, staring in the door, making sad mewing sounds and trying to look frozen and half-dead from neglect, but it was nearly 90 and I had just eaten. So after a minute, I just had a nap instead.

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Dear Diary,

Today A1 was cleaning the kitchen, making all sorts of racket with the spray cleaner and wiping the table above my head, so I decided to relocate to my bed. I was sprawled-I mean curled up beautifully-snoozing when here comes A1 with a load of towels for the bathroom. Now, I don't use the towels, but it's good to see her being useful around the place. Though if she were any kind of mother, she'd lick the kittens clean. They don't even have FUR, it couldn't take that long. But we all know how useless and even cruel she is-bathing them in vats of steamy water with SOAP and clipping their claws so they can't destroy the furniture or get away from enemies up a tree. And don't get me started on the severe lack of fresh meat around here...

As she was crossing the room, she stumbled and said, "Good grief, Kuma, the only way you could be MORE in my way would be if you were to explode." 'Kuma' is what she calls Fuzzbutt. He lays with legs and head and tail spread over as much space as he can get and he makes little puppy wuffs in his sleep. It is really cute, for a dog and all. Considering what he has to work with.

Which reminds me of the point of this entry.
A1 has, what she calls a 'philosophy and great ideas' section of books. There are a dozen or so little books, all from great thinkers. I know for a fact the only one she has read all the way through is 'It's Not Easy Being Green' by Kermit the Frog. However, she took a stab at something called Origin of the Species or maybe it was On Natural Selection anyway, it was by Charles Darwin.

She read chunks out loud to herself, the kittens, A2, even me, though goodness knows I never listen to her. I did hear enough to get a few main points. He thinks people and animals plants evolved from other animals and plants and he sailed on a boat called the Beagle. Well, anyone sailing on a DOG can't be that bright. So, I decided to supply my own chart, I think you will find it is based on scientific thought and reason and far more accurate.

Point One: The Common Cat evolved directly from the Saber-toothed Tiger except the grey alley-cat strain, which evolved from the giant sloth.

Point Two: The kittens really are directly descended from monkeys, there is no refuting that theory.

Point Three: Mice, moles, grasshoppers, moths and voles area all descended from canned tuna.

Point Four: All dogs are descended from the banana.

There. Now that that little misunderstanding has been cleared up, on to Nietzsche!

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Dear Diary:

Guess what? I was on the porch, minding my own business, watching for intruders when the van pulls up. Out comes A1 and 2, then they open the sliders and I expect PH, Fuzz and the kittens to come out, they way they went in a couple hours before. But no. It's PH and Fuzz and...and another dog.

They named her Sora Blue and she lived here for a few months until it got colder. Then, A1 packed a bag and took her away. She talked to the kittens first and they agreed Sora should go live 'in town' with a family they know. She never really bothered me after the initial proctology exam.  A1 said the big dogs were beating up on her too much because she as so little and that she would not stay off the furniture, so it was better to find her a new place to live.  Luckily, the people that babysit the dogs wanted her. 

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I thought things would be back to normal, but then a few weeks later, ANOTHER dog showed up! I swear, if they are going to open a pet hotel, they could at LEAST get some decent drapes.

This one was Misha, she was being sat on by A1, though yet again, I never once saw her actually sit on the dog. She shirks more work than a duck sheds water. Dog sitting without sitting on the dog, feeding the kittens without killing a single thing, homeschooling and not once has she taught them to sharpen their claws or even how to use the litter box. And of course she never licks anything to clean it or climb trees to watch for danger.

As far as mothers go, she's pretty useless. But she does have those thumbs and that means tuna cans are no match for her. I guess she has her own ways of being useful. She may not lick the kittens, but she kisses on them and tries to make their hair lay down with a wet comb which is SORT of the same. And she does growl when she gets mad. And the true test, she will fall asleep if she gets warm, it's like narcolepsy. I can appreciate that at least.

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