Archive for the ‘Kitteny Treats’ Category

May 2009: Road Trip to Woodstock, CT.

In which I discovered that my Grandmother, the only grandparent I knew, had a little of the crafty going. Apparently I inherited my crazy-ass color sense from her. Or lack of.

I know! It hurts the eyes.

Promptly upon returning from said incident free road trip, in which there was lots of driving, which is why it was a road trip, my poor little car was creamed by a City of Buffalo garbage truck. While it was parked. Motherfuckers. God that was annoying.

And then there were …


And that just about killed June.

There seems to have been some intent to weave and knit:

Chubs relaxing on the Feather n’ Fan Comfort Shawl, of handspun wool/mohair, navajo plied. It’s in a bag somewhere. Languishing. Unfinished. It’s going to be a large and lovely shawl, but I hates me the feather and fan. And on the loom is some extremely crappy yet strangely attractive acrylic crap. Still awaiting a fringe.


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Here’s a Treat

It’s Lilly! Looking almost like a Real Cat. Last night she had her head scratched for a chunk of time, and boy, does she shed. Pity she can’t be brushed. Ick.


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Perfectly Symmetrical (Long Skinny Legs):


Still Life with Milk Ring:


Omar has become a Lazy Slut. There are three locales in which he can be petted: the couch; my chair; in bed. If you try to pet him, he bolts. But, if you hold out your hand, and let him initiate the petting, he’ll bonk your hand and then get petted. Treats are not always necessary, but are helpful. He seems to almost enjoy being scruffed, as long as he doesn’t get picked up.

Lilly, still rarely photographed, comes onto the chair with a lot of coaxing for a treat, and lately has been allowing her neck to be scritched for more than a split second.

Closeup from a Distance in the Kitty Tent:


Can you see? Can you see her Crazed Marty Feldman Kitty Eyes?

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Don’t be Fooled.

They only look like good cats.

Yes! That is indeed the leg of a human that Omar is sitting next to. For about ten minutes a day Omar acts like a real cat, and will hop up on the bed and be petted and brushed.

He also hangs out not in the basement sometimes.


He’s almost precious.


Lilly, however, remains a waste of space. The past few nights she has come close enough to take a treat and get touched for a fleeting second. But really, all her time is spent being afraid.


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Question: How are the Shittens?

Answer: They’re not shittens anymore. They’re Shats.

And their eyes will burn a hole through you if you look at them directly.

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Omar has Long Skinny Legs.

Have I mentioned lately that I hate these kittens? They come out of the crate now, but Lily (note the use of a name for the hateful girl cat) remains absolutely petrified of me and I cannot get near her outside the crate. Omar will approach for food, but cannot be petted outside the crate. Although last night he did climb onto me in my chair to eat. But as soon as I tried to touch him, he was gone. And they’re getting harder to herd back into the crate. Like herding cats. Snerk.

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Free Range Omar

Oh, He looks so innocent. Last night we let Omar out, on purpose, to see what would happen. Well, first he spent a few a few hours under an endtable, but on the second round he actually ate and played a bit. I figure if I wait until they can be fully “controlled with food,” I’ll be dead.

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