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June 27, 2009: South-bound & Bath-bound
Tomorrow (Sun. 6/28) I am driving south to Alabama to see my dad for a week... And because I have no common sense, I am taking
the monsters with me. You faithful TnT readers will remember that my dad has a large washtub in his garage, where I last gave Toby
and Tabby a bath two years ago (also known as The Battle Of The Bath - see Diary Page 3, Aug. 16, 2007). Well, I've decided it's time
for both of them to get dunked and shampooed again, so please pray for me... Even before that, however, please pray that all three of
us make it safely to Alabama from D.C., because I think they know what's coming and I'm worried they are going to incapacitate me
somehow and take over the wheel somewhere en route. Call me crazy, but they just have that look in their beady little evil eyes.
May 25, 2009: I gave my cat a bath and lived to tell about it
Today was Memorial Day, but it was raining in the D.C. area so there wasn't much to do but stay indoors and watch the Orioles game
*almost* get rained out. Around mid-afternoon, after getting gradually pissed off at Toby for a variety of his usual tricks, it occurred to
me that he hasn't had a bath since about two years ago in my Dad's garage. So I decided it was... bath time.
Bravely, I decided to forego what would have been sensible clothing such as a suit of armor or at least a thick overcoat. I scooped
him up, headed into the bathroom and dunked him under the faucet. I was too scared to try soaping him up, but I figured this was a
trial run and if I survived the wounds, I could soap him up next time. I also considered taking pictures, but that would have required
letting him go, which would have been a disaster.
It was Man vs. Cat. There was thrashing, there was crying, there was anguish and there was anger. A LOT of anger. And yes, there
was bloodshed, but not much, since I've learned how lethal his toe-claws can be. But I lived to tell about it. I eventually took him out of
the tub and even managed to dry him off with a towel until he finally kicked free.
And then there was peace in my household -- as well as one rinsed-off, pissed-off cat.
April 11, 2009: Toby & Tabby's Favorite Games
I put aside work on my plan for world peace today to compile a list of the games that Toby & Tabby really like to play, and I really don't
like them to play... Here they are, in no particular order...
1. "Clear-The-Shelf" (their all-time favorite)
2. "Block Jay's Path" (best-suited for a doorway, with extra points if Jay is carrying something heavy)
3. "Hide Jay's Keys" (Jay's next-to-all-time least-favorite)
4. "Hide Jay's Wallet" (Jay's all-time least favorite)
5. "Make A Special Stinky Poop When Jay Has Lady Guests" (self-explanatory)
6. "Chew Jay's Mail" (the more important the mail, the better)
7. "Wake Jay Up At 5 a.m. For The Hell Of It" (a new addition to their repertoire)
8. "Ruin Jay's Electrical Appliances" (by chewing wires; discussed in the 2007 diaries)
9. "Poop Outside The Litter Pan" (similar to No. 5, but more common)
10. "Embezzle From Jay" (see Feb. 24 diary entry below)
Feb. 24, 2009: I Caught My Cats Embezzling From Me Last Night
I caught my cats embezzling from me last night
I came home to the most incredible sight
They’ve swiped two grand so far this year
Spreadsheets in their paws and pencils behind their ears
I caught my cats embezzling from me last night
And something tells me this just ain’t right
Here I go and make ‘em a happy home
And now I’m gonna have to take out a loan
Now I don’t mind if they have their own hobbies
But no more wire fraud, arson or robberies
No more shady deals, checkbooks and such
There goes another thousand bucks
I caught my cats embezzling from me last night
How can these furballs be so bright
The furry little criminals sure aren’t dumb
They did it all without opposable thumbs
I caught my cats embezzling from me last night
And guess who the D.A.’s gonna indict
Who would believe the fortune they’ve amassed?
I’m off to jail instead of my embezzling cats.
Jan. 10, 2009: Happy New Year from Toby & Tabby & Jay
Happy 2009 everyone. The three of us here in the Washington D.C. area are doing fine and we wish you all well. I have begun the New
Year by making two discoveries.
First, I have discovered a pretty funny "button" to push on Tabby... It seems when I scratch her back hard enough, she will start to
lick her shoulder. It's like an automatic response and she can't help it. So, lately, whenever I want to distract her from plotting
something evil like usual, I catch her and scratch her, and within seconds she's helpless. It's pretty useful, I must say.
Second, I think my evil roommates are plotting something, because they scared the bejeezus out of me yesterday morning. I woke up
to find the two of them sitting on my nightstand, just looking at me as I slept. This is a pretty unnerving way to wake up, if it's never
happened to you. Let me try to explain: Anyone remember those two little girls in "The Shining?" It was like that. Scaaaaary.
But mostly, it's life as usual at my household as we enter the new year... Uh, actually, make that their household. Some things don't
change with the calendar.
Dec. 8, 2008: No Christmas spirit here
A few years ago, I used to love decorating my home at Christmastime... Lots of lights, maybe a small tree or two, etc. But not after I
adopted Toby & Tabby. Their habit of chewing wires made me quickly realize that Christmas lights in my home are a thing of the past,
and I made the mistake in Christmas 2007 of getting a small tree which they promptly demolished.
So this year I bought a small ceramic tree, with little colored lights, to put on my kitchen bar/counter. So far the little monsters have
tried and tried to destroy it, but have happily been unsuccessful. But stay tuned. My money is on them.
Nov. 25, 2008:
Things have been busy in Toby&Tabbyville. Tonight I started a new page of photos -- the sixth for the site -- including one of Toby
showing off and stretching into what looks to be a VERY uncomfortable position. I really don't know how he does it but I'm curious.
The fur buddies recently had a visitor, an old and good friend who stayed for a few days and decided she did not like Toby and Tabby.
"They're weird," she said.
I could not help but agree, privately, but tried to explain that they have a certain charm. "They grow on you," I said. "They're not so
bad after a while."
My friend disagreed. "They're weird," she said.
She could have been a little less rude about it — I mean, they were sitting right there and clearly able to hear her — but I have to
admit she is right. They're weird. Aren't I lucky.
And tonight I chased Toby away from drinking in my bathroom sink for the umpteenth time. I really don't like them doing that -- but I
really don't have a choice, do I?
Oct. 27, 2008:
My birthday was last week, and I was very grateful to receive seven birthday cards -- a personal record.
Toby has now eaten five of them. He sends his thanks.
Oct. 5, 2008: Two furry fugitives
Well, here goes: My two little fur-buddies made a break for it last weekend, knocking ajar my screen door in the middle of the night
and running out into the wild blue yonder for God-knows-what (this is all true, although I wish it wasn't). I woke at 7 a.m. to find them
gone and the screen door knocked open. After the shock wore off, I must admit that I seriously considered closing the door, going
back to sleep and bidding a long- overdue goodbye to this unfortunate mistake of mine from which God has offered me a quick and
easy escape hatch.
But... I'm all they have. So there I went in my Jeep at 7 a.m., driving around like an idiot and asking people if they'd seen two monsters
around (I quickly realized the need to explain these are two small cats)... No one had seen anything. I drove around the block. I drove
up the road to another apartment complex. I drove to the nearby grocery store parking lot. I looked under every parked car I could.
I came home empty-handed. They could be anywhere, I realized... And then I decided to take one last look around my building... Nope,
nothing there either... except that I saw a briar bush move, out of the corner of my eye. Something was in there. I approached it,
called out their names, and heard a pitiful meow from Tabby, who was stuck and trapped inside this bush, covered with thorns, mud
and blood. Relieved, I parted the bush and gestured for her to come to me. For the first and only time I can remember, she walked into
my arms.
One down, one to go... Where the heck is Toby? I looked all over the immediate area, figuring they would have stuck together, but
found nothing. And then, just before I was about to give up and go home with Tabby, I happened to look up... And there he was, on the
second floor of a rear-apartment balcony, looking down and absolutely paralyzed with fear. There was no easy way up there and I
still can't figure out how he reached it. But I dutifully climbed a nearby staircase that he couldn't have used because it was blocked
off with a gate, and scooped him up. In the three years that he's been the closest thing I have to a son, I have never seen him so
afraid. And I will never forget that look of absolute fear on his face.
I played this up to great effect when we were safely back home, telling them over and over that they owe their lives to me and they
should really thank me. They responded by walking away and licking themselves. "We'll get back to you on that," they seemed to say.
"In the meantime, feed us."
I've been asked by a few friends now, half-jokingly, why I didn't just give up and let them go. I've told them the same thing I told you:
I'm all they have. As horrible as they are, I'm all they have.
Sept. 13, 2008: Playing "Clear-The-Shelf"
The monsters have developed a favorite new game: "Clear-The-Shelf." As it sounds, this game consists of jumping up in places
where they're not allowed, and then the fun ensues: They knock things over, watch me pick them up, and then knock them over
again. They really like this game. Me, not so much.
This afternoon they took this game to a new low: They knocked over a stereo speaker in my living room. Instead of sticking around
as I exploded in anger, they seemed to grasp the urgency of the situation and immediately fled the scene. I finally found them under
my bed. They looked rather scared. And they should be.
So here I am, waiting for them to emerge from hiding, so I can give them a friendly smackdown. Sooner or later they've got to come
out. Sooner or later they will get hungry. Sooner or later...
Aug. 19, 2008: NEWS FLASH !!!
It turns out that Toby is actually good for something!!! I know, I'm just as surprised as you are, dear reader... It happened tonight.
Another moth somehow got into my apartment and started flying around, sending Toby and Tabby into fits chasing it around. But very
quickly, while the moth was resting on my coffee table, Toby swatted it to the floor and ate it.
I jumped up from the sofa, wondering if he was choking or OK, but he just looked up at me and burped, I think. If he would have let me,
I would have petted him to thank him. He saved me a ton of money in damages. I can't imagine the moth tasted very good, but Toby
hasn't complained yet and Tabby seems jealous that he got to eat one and she didn't. Oh well. I don't care. I'm just happy that Toby is
actually good for something. Whodathunkit?
Aug. 4, 2008: Now they're hiding my keys...
The title says it all, and it's not a joke (although I wish it was). This morning my little monsters thought it would be funny if they hid my
car keys from me as I was about to leave.
They did a very good job, I must admit, because it took me about 20 minutes before I finally found my keys under the bookcase in my
den where one or both of them had dragged them. I wasn't laughing at all, but I swear I heard them snickering behind me as usual.
I think tonight I will "hide" their food. Let's see how funny they find that! Ha! Alright now, wish me luck finding my wallet.
July 23, 2008: Attack Of The Moth
Last night about 7 p.m. a little moth got into my home and began to fly around. By 7:15 p.m. my entire living room and kitchen were
nearly destroyed, courtesy of you-know-who.
Yes, Toby and Tabby went beserk, jumping around after the moth. Ever seen how cats react to a flying insect? They become
possessed. They chased it everywhere, leaping through the air, jumping on top of furniture, knocking over countless items on my
counters, bookshelves and tabletops. I tried to keep up, but they sneered at me. It was like chasing two furry blizzards.
I don't know if they caught the moth or not, but it disappeared, and the night ended like many in my home: With me sweeping up
broken glass, trying to repair knick-knacks and collecting debris. My roommates sat in the corner and snickered.
June 29, 2008: Chewies...
My little alcoholics finally got their furry little heads out of their beer boxes long enough to develop another annoying new habit...
Chewing everything. Literally, *everything*. Case in point: This morning I discovered they chewed up a stack of mail on my kitchen
table. They seem to have gone for the credit card bill first, chewing the edges of the envelope and then finally maybe a quarter of the
whole envelope.
"You idiots," I told them. "This doesn't make the bill go away. Don't you think I've tried that?"
Instead of listening to me, they started chewing the curtains.
Question: If you can remove a cat's claws, is it possible to remove their teeth as well? I'm just wondering, that's all...
May 28, 2008: They literally bit the hand that was feeding them...
This morning my roommates broke new ground: They literally bit the hand that was feeding them.
It all began in the usual fashion, with them waking me up at the crack of dawn and pestering me until I finally threw them out of my
bedroom and shut the door in their annoying little faces. This was followed by the normal crying, yelling, meowing, an occasional
furry arm shoved under the door, and me desperately trying to sleep and wishing I had gotten a dog. Like I said, a normal morning.
Trying to be nice, however, I decided to feed them and went into the kitchen to put some wet food into their dish. I have several
dishes for them, but the one they're currently using has sharp plastic edges on its bottom. This suddenly became tragically important.
I put the dish on the counter, opened a can of salmon cat food and was about to dunk it into the dish when Toby jumps up on the
counter, flips the dish up in the air, covers me with salmon and cuts my hand on the side of the plastic dish. As I was trying to catch
him as he fell back to the kitchen floor, his tooth scraped my hand.
So there I am covered in blood, sweat, tears and salmon. To my credit, I resisted the urge to punt them into the living room. Instead, I
calmly stopped the bleeding from the gash in my hand, fed them some dry food instead and went in search of a bandage. I then
returned to bed a little smellier, a little bloodier and a whole lot angrier. And I fell back asleep dreaming that I had gotten a dog instead.
April 23, 2008: Razing Arizona
The latest battleground in the war between me and the monsters: My refrigerator door. I have the front of my fridge covered in
souvenir magnets from all of the various states and countries I have visited over the years, and the resulting collage is rather
impressive, I must say. However, four months after moving in, Toby still insists on jumping up on top of the fridge and knocking them
down almost every night. Some nights it's only a few of them. Some nights it's a lot. But every night, he manages to knock down my
Arizona magnet.
I was in the Phoenix area for a few days in 2002, and the magnet I picked up is a little orange thing. Nothing huge or offensive. So why
does Toby hate it so much? I can't figure it out. Even when I move the magnet to the other corner of the fridge door, he always
manages to hit it. Is he aiming for it? Does he have something against Phoenix? Is he anti-Arizona? What am I not understanding?
As always, the search for intelligent life continues in a certain apartment in Silver Spring, Maryland.
April 8, 2008: Nothing new, still evil
There's nothing new to report for the past few days. They're still as evil as ever. Toby still drools in my bed when he's kneading into
my arm, Tabby is still on a mission to destroy my apartment deposit by destroying my window blinds, and the two of them are still
driving me slowly but surely crazy.
My new apartment has jumbo-length windows (almost to the floor)... These are nice, except for people who own evil cats like me.
There are a series of small bushes outside my bedroom window, and in the morning birds like to gather in these bushes and
welcome the day with beautiful, peaceful chirping. Because the windows are so low to the floor, Tabby seizes this opportunity to
dash to the window and raise holy hell in trying to get at these birds. This happens every damn morning at oh, about 6 a.m. Lucky me.
March 22, 2008: More photos, more evil
Toby has discovered he really likes jumping on top of my refrigerator from a running start. I have discovered I really DON'T like him to
do this. As he certainly knows, this involves knocking to the floor all of my carefully-arranged fridge magnets that I have collected
over the years from places I have visited... England, Scotland, Greece, and lots of U.S. cities in states. I'm very proud of them. But
Toby persists in shattering them.
As bad as this is, Tabby's new obsession is worse: She likes to bend and tear my new window blinds. I've tried bitter-spray, water
guns, etc. I swear I saw her sneer at them. I think I can safely say my new apartment deposit is already history.
March 10, 2008: Cats on the Ceiling (a.k.a. 'The Catnip Tragedy of '08')
Last night I had to scrape my cats off the ceiling. OK, this bears explaining...
All weekend I had considered some kind of a nice gesture for my two little monsters... A peace offering, if you will, for the beasts that
I live with. I figured if I'm extra-nice to them once in a while, maybe they won't be, well, beasts. Anyway, I came up with a great idea:
Catnip. I used the wacky weed last fall when Toby was losing weight and I needed to stimulate his system. It worked very well, so I
stored a supply away for future use. I have kept it carefully out of TnT's sight ever since, all through my move to Washington D.C.
because I know how nuts it makes them... So, yesterday afternoon I broke out the catnip vault and spread a little on my living room
floor... A LITTLE. Just a sprinkle. A dab. A pinch. A morsel.
However, it was all Toby needed to literally climb the walls, jumping on top of the bookcase in my living room and trashing the blinds
in front of the sliding-glass door to the patio. Tabby probably would have joined him, but she was busy in the kitchen trying to eat my
ceramic salt and pepper shakers. When they (barely) didn't fit in her mouth, she ate three paper napkins instead before finishing off
her meal with half a magnet from my refrigerator door. I tried my best to stop all of this, but I was too busy cleaning the broken glass,
plastic, wood and ceramic they left behind on their trail of destruction from Ground Zero.
Never again. Ever.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go scrape the rest of my cats off the ceiling.
March 4, 2008: Bedwetting and static electricity
My little monsters are annoying even when they're trying to be cute. Case in point: Toby has started crawling up in bed with me and
kneading his paws into my upper arm at night. Awwwwww. Charming and endearing, huh? That's what I thought, too. Until I turned
over to go to sleep, and discovered he was drooling the whole time. Enough to leave an entire puddle of drool, right there beside my
arm. I had to get up and change the sheets, robbing me of valuable beauty sleep -- and you KNOW how much I need that.
Same thing the next night: Toby crawls up beside me, starts to knead, and lulls me into letting my guard down. Then when it's too late
to do anything about it, he scampers away to leave me to deal with the mess he's left behind. How cute. Charming and endearing?
Not even close.
However, I have discovered a silver lining in the Washington, D.C.-area climate: Static electricity. The air here is very dry especially
compared to Florida, and that means lots of static electricity in my home. Specifically, it means a little shock for TnT every time I
reach out to touch them. I am enjoying this, probably too much.
Tomorrow (Sun. 6/28) I am driving south to Alabama to see my dad for a week... And because I have no common sense, I am taking
the monsters with me. You faithful TnT readers will remember that my dad has a large washtub in his garage, where I last gave Toby
and Tabby a bath two years ago (also known as The Battle Of The Bath - see Diary Page 3, Aug. 16, 2007). Well, I've decided it's time
for both of them to get dunked and shampooed again, so please pray for me... Even before that, however, please pray that all three of
us make it safely to Alabama from D.C., because I think they know what's coming and I'm worried they are going to incapacitate me
somehow and take over the wheel somewhere en route. Call me crazy, but they just have that look in their beady little evil eyes.
May 25, 2009: I gave my cat a bath and lived to tell about it
Today was Memorial Day, but it was raining in the D.C. area so there wasn't much to do but stay indoors and watch the Orioles game
*almost* get rained out. Around mid-afternoon, after getting gradually pissed off at Toby for a variety of his usual tricks, it occurred to
me that he hasn't had a bath since about two years ago in my Dad's garage. So I decided it was... bath time.
Bravely, I decided to forego what would have been sensible clothing such as a suit of armor or at least a thick overcoat. I scooped
him up, headed into the bathroom and dunked him under the faucet. I was too scared to try soaping him up, but I figured this was a
trial run and if I survived the wounds, I could soap him up next time. I also considered taking pictures, but that would have required
letting him go, which would have been a disaster.
It was Man vs. Cat. There was thrashing, there was crying, there was anguish and there was anger. A LOT of anger. And yes, there
was bloodshed, but not much, since I've learned how lethal his toe-claws can be. But I lived to tell about it. I eventually took him out of
the tub and even managed to dry him off with a towel until he finally kicked free.
And then there was peace in my household -- as well as one rinsed-off, pissed-off cat.
April 11, 2009: Toby & Tabby's Favorite Games
I put aside work on my plan for world peace today to compile a list of the games that Toby & Tabby really like to play, and I really don't
like them to play... Here they are, in no particular order...
1. "Clear-The-Shelf" (their all-time favorite)
2. "Block Jay's Path" (best-suited for a doorway, with extra points if Jay is carrying something heavy)
3. "Hide Jay's Keys" (Jay's next-to-all-time least-favorite)
4. "Hide Jay's Wallet" (Jay's all-time least favorite)
5. "Make A Special Stinky Poop When Jay Has Lady Guests" (self-explanatory)
6. "Chew Jay's Mail" (the more important the mail, the better)
7. "Wake Jay Up At 5 a.m. For The Hell Of It" (a new addition to their repertoire)
8. "Ruin Jay's Electrical Appliances" (by chewing wires; discussed in the 2007 diaries)
9. "Poop Outside The Litter Pan" (similar to No. 5, but more common)
10. "Embezzle From Jay" (see Feb. 24 diary entry below)
Feb. 24, 2009: I Caught My Cats Embezzling From Me Last Night
I caught my cats embezzling from me last night
I came home to the most incredible sight
They’ve swiped two grand so far this year
Spreadsheets in their paws and pencils behind their ears
I caught my cats embezzling from me last night
And something tells me this just ain’t right
Here I go and make ‘em a happy home
And now I’m gonna have to take out a loan
Now I don’t mind if they have their own hobbies
But no more wire fraud, arson or robberies
No more shady deals, checkbooks and such
There goes another thousand bucks
I caught my cats embezzling from me last night
How can these furballs be so bright
The furry little criminals sure aren’t dumb
They did it all without opposable thumbs
I caught my cats embezzling from me last night
And guess who the D.A.’s gonna indict
Who would believe the fortune they’ve amassed?
I’m off to jail instead of my embezzling cats.
Jan. 10, 2009: Happy New Year from Toby & Tabby & Jay
Happy 2009 everyone. The three of us here in the Washington D.C. area are doing fine and we wish you all well. I have begun the New
Year by making two discoveries.
First, I have discovered a pretty funny "button" to push on Tabby... It seems when I scratch her back hard enough, she will start to
lick her shoulder. It's like an automatic response and she can't help it. So, lately, whenever I want to distract her from plotting
something evil like usual, I catch her and scratch her, and within seconds she's helpless. It's pretty useful, I must say.
Second, I think my evil roommates are plotting something, because they scared the bejeezus out of me yesterday morning. I woke up
to find the two of them sitting on my nightstand, just looking at me as I slept. This is a pretty unnerving way to wake up, if it's never
happened to you. Let me try to explain: Anyone remember those two little girls in "The Shining?" It was like that. Scaaaaary.
But mostly, it's life as usual at my household as we enter the new year... Uh, actually, make that their household. Some things don't
change with the calendar.
Dec. 8, 2008: No Christmas spirit here
A few years ago, I used to love decorating my home at Christmastime... Lots of lights, maybe a small tree or two, etc. But not after I
adopted Toby & Tabby. Their habit of chewing wires made me quickly realize that Christmas lights in my home are a thing of the past,
and I made the mistake in Christmas 2007 of getting a small tree which they promptly demolished.
So this year I bought a small ceramic tree, with little colored lights, to put on my kitchen bar/counter. So far the little monsters have
tried and tried to destroy it, but have happily been unsuccessful. But stay tuned. My money is on them.
Nov. 25, 2008:
Things have been busy in Toby&Tabbyville. Tonight I started a new page of photos -- the sixth for the site -- including one of Toby
showing off and stretching into what looks to be a VERY uncomfortable position. I really don't know how he does it but I'm curious.
The fur buddies recently had a visitor, an old and good friend who stayed for a few days and decided she did not like Toby and Tabby.
"They're weird," she said.
I could not help but agree, privately, but tried to explain that they have a certain charm. "They grow on you," I said. "They're not so
bad after a while."
My friend disagreed. "They're weird," she said.
She could have been a little less rude about it — I mean, they were sitting right there and clearly able to hear her — but I have to
admit she is right. They're weird. Aren't I lucky.
And tonight I chased Toby away from drinking in my bathroom sink for the umpteenth time. I really don't like them doing that -- but I
really don't have a choice, do I?
Oct. 27, 2008:
My birthday was last week, and I was very grateful to receive seven birthday cards -- a personal record.
Toby has now eaten five of them. He sends his thanks.
Oct. 5, 2008: Two furry fugitives
Well, here goes: My two little fur-buddies made a break for it last weekend, knocking ajar my screen door in the middle of the night
and running out into the wild blue yonder for God-knows-what (this is all true, although I wish it wasn't). I woke at 7 a.m. to find them
gone and the screen door knocked open. After the shock wore off, I must admit that I seriously considered closing the door, going
back to sleep and bidding a long- overdue goodbye to this unfortunate mistake of mine from which God has offered me a quick and
easy escape hatch.
But... I'm all they have. So there I went in my Jeep at 7 a.m., driving around like an idiot and asking people if they'd seen two monsters
around (I quickly realized the need to explain these are two small cats)... No one had seen anything. I drove around the block. I drove
up the road to another apartment complex. I drove to the nearby grocery store parking lot. I looked under every parked car I could.
I came home empty-handed. They could be anywhere, I realized... And then I decided to take one last look around my building... Nope,
nothing there either... except that I saw a briar bush move, out of the corner of my eye. Something was in there. I approached it,
called out their names, and heard a pitiful meow from Tabby, who was stuck and trapped inside this bush, covered with thorns, mud
and blood. Relieved, I parted the bush and gestured for her to come to me. For the first and only time I can remember, she walked into
my arms.
One down, one to go... Where the heck is Toby? I looked all over the immediate area, figuring they would have stuck together, but
found nothing. And then, just before I was about to give up and go home with Tabby, I happened to look up... And there he was, on the
second floor of a rear-apartment balcony, looking down and absolutely paralyzed with fear. There was no easy way up there and I
still can't figure out how he reached it. But I dutifully climbed a nearby staircase that he couldn't have used because it was blocked
off with a gate, and scooped him up. In the three years that he's been the closest thing I have to a son, I have never seen him so
afraid. And I will never forget that look of absolute fear on his face.
I played this up to great effect when we were safely back home, telling them over and over that they owe their lives to me and they
should really thank me. They responded by walking away and licking themselves. "We'll get back to you on that," they seemed to say.
"In the meantime, feed us."
I've been asked by a few friends now, half-jokingly, why I didn't just give up and let them go. I've told them the same thing I told you:
I'm all they have. As horrible as they are, I'm all they have.
Sept. 13, 2008: Playing "Clear-The-Shelf"
The monsters have developed a favorite new game: "Clear-The-Shelf." As it sounds, this game consists of jumping up in places
where they're not allowed, and then the fun ensues: They knock things over, watch me pick them up, and then knock them over
again. They really like this game. Me, not so much.
This afternoon they took this game to a new low: They knocked over a stereo speaker in my living room. Instead of sticking around
as I exploded in anger, they seemed to grasp the urgency of the situation and immediately fled the scene. I finally found them under
my bed. They looked rather scared. And they should be.
So here I am, waiting for them to emerge from hiding, so I can give them a friendly smackdown. Sooner or later they've got to come
out. Sooner or later they will get hungry. Sooner or later...
Aug. 19, 2008: NEWS FLASH !!!
It turns out that Toby is actually good for something!!! I know, I'm just as surprised as you are, dear reader... It happened tonight.
Another moth somehow got into my apartment and started flying around, sending Toby and Tabby into fits chasing it around. But very
quickly, while the moth was resting on my coffee table, Toby swatted it to the floor and ate it.
I jumped up from the sofa, wondering if he was choking or OK, but he just looked up at me and burped, I think. If he would have let me,
I would have petted him to thank him. He saved me a ton of money in damages. I can't imagine the moth tasted very good, but Toby
hasn't complained yet and Tabby seems jealous that he got to eat one and she didn't. Oh well. I don't care. I'm just happy that Toby is
actually good for something. Whodathunkit?
Aug. 4, 2008: Now they're hiding my keys...
The title says it all, and it's not a joke (although I wish it was). This morning my little monsters thought it would be funny if they hid my
car keys from me as I was about to leave.
They did a very good job, I must admit, because it took me about 20 minutes before I finally found my keys under the bookcase in my
den where one or both of them had dragged them. I wasn't laughing at all, but I swear I heard them snickering behind me as usual.
I think tonight I will "hide" their food. Let's see how funny they find that! Ha! Alright now, wish me luck finding my wallet.
July 23, 2008: Attack Of The Moth
Last night about 7 p.m. a little moth got into my home and began to fly around. By 7:15 p.m. my entire living room and kitchen were
nearly destroyed, courtesy of you-know-who.
Yes, Toby and Tabby went beserk, jumping around after the moth. Ever seen how cats react to a flying insect? They become
possessed. They chased it everywhere, leaping through the air, jumping on top of furniture, knocking over countless items on my
counters, bookshelves and tabletops. I tried to keep up, but they sneered at me. It was like chasing two furry blizzards.
I don't know if they caught the moth or not, but it disappeared, and the night ended like many in my home: With me sweeping up
broken glass, trying to repair knick-knacks and collecting debris. My roommates sat in the corner and snickered.
June 29, 2008: Chewies...
My little alcoholics finally got their furry little heads out of their beer boxes long enough to develop another annoying new habit...
Chewing everything. Literally, *everything*. Case in point: This morning I discovered they chewed up a stack of mail on my kitchen
table. They seem to have gone for the credit card bill first, chewing the edges of the envelope and then finally maybe a quarter of the
whole envelope.
"You idiots," I told them. "This doesn't make the bill go away. Don't you think I've tried that?"
Instead of listening to me, they started chewing the curtains.
Question: If you can remove a cat's claws, is it possible to remove their teeth as well? I'm just wondering, that's all...
May 28, 2008: They literally bit the hand that was feeding them...
This morning my roommates broke new ground: They literally bit the hand that was feeding them.
It all began in the usual fashion, with them waking me up at the crack of dawn and pestering me until I finally threw them out of my
bedroom and shut the door in their annoying little faces. This was followed by the normal crying, yelling, meowing, an occasional
furry arm shoved under the door, and me desperately trying to sleep and wishing I had gotten a dog. Like I said, a normal morning.
Trying to be nice, however, I decided to feed them and went into the kitchen to put some wet food into their dish. I have several
dishes for them, but the one they're currently using has sharp plastic edges on its bottom. This suddenly became tragically important.
I put the dish on the counter, opened a can of salmon cat food and was about to dunk it into the dish when Toby jumps up on the
counter, flips the dish up in the air, covers me with salmon and cuts my hand on the side of the plastic dish. As I was trying to catch
him as he fell back to the kitchen floor, his tooth scraped my hand.
So there I am covered in blood, sweat, tears and salmon. To my credit, I resisted the urge to punt them into the living room. Instead, I
calmly stopped the bleeding from the gash in my hand, fed them some dry food instead and went in search of a bandage. I then
returned to bed a little smellier, a little bloodier and a whole lot angrier. And I fell back asleep dreaming that I had gotten a dog instead.
April 23, 2008: Razing Arizona
The latest battleground in the war between me and the monsters: My refrigerator door. I have the front of my fridge covered in
souvenir magnets from all of the various states and countries I have visited over the years, and the resulting collage is rather
impressive, I must say. However, four months after moving in, Toby still insists on jumping up on top of the fridge and knocking them
down almost every night. Some nights it's only a few of them. Some nights it's a lot. But every night, he manages to knock down my
Arizona magnet.
I was in the Phoenix area for a few days in 2002, and the magnet I picked up is a little orange thing. Nothing huge or offensive. So why
does Toby hate it so much? I can't figure it out. Even when I move the magnet to the other corner of the fridge door, he always
manages to hit it. Is he aiming for it? Does he have something against Phoenix? Is he anti-Arizona? What am I not understanding?
As always, the search for intelligent life continues in a certain apartment in Silver Spring, Maryland.
April 8, 2008: Nothing new, still evil
There's nothing new to report for the past few days. They're still as evil as ever. Toby still drools in my bed when he's kneading into
my arm, Tabby is still on a mission to destroy my apartment deposit by destroying my window blinds, and the two of them are still
driving me slowly but surely crazy.
My new apartment has jumbo-length windows (almost to the floor)... These are nice, except for people who own evil cats like me.
There are a series of small bushes outside my bedroom window, and in the morning birds like to gather in these bushes and
welcome the day with beautiful, peaceful chirping. Because the windows are so low to the floor, Tabby seizes this opportunity to
dash to the window and raise holy hell in trying to get at these birds. This happens every damn morning at oh, about 6 a.m. Lucky me.
March 22, 2008: More photos, more evil
Toby has discovered he really likes jumping on top of my refrigerator from a running start. I have discovered I really DON'T like him to
do this. As he certainly knows, this involves knocking to the floor all of my carefully-arranged fridge magnets that I have collected
over the years from places I have visited... England, Scotland, Greece, and lots of U.S. cities in states. I'm very proud of them. But
Toby persists in shattering them.
As bad as this is, Tabby's new obsession is worse: She likes to bend and tear my new window blinds. I've tried bitter-spray, water
guns, etc. I swear I saw her sneer at them. I think I can safely say my new apartment deposit is already history.
March 10, 2008: Cats on the Ceiling (a.k.a. 'The Catnip Tragedy of '08')
Last night I had to scrape my cats off the ceiling. OK, this bears explaining...
All weekend I had considered some kind of a nice gesture for my two little monsters... A peace offering, if you will, for the beasts that
I live with. I figured if I'm extra-nice to them once in a while, maybe they won't be, well, beasts. Anyway, I came up with a great idea:
Catnip. I used the wacky weed last fall when Toby was losing weight and I needed to stimulate his system. It worked very well, so I
stored a supply away for future use. I have kept it carefully out of TnT's sight ever since, all through my move to Washington D.C.
because I know how nuts it makes them... So, yesterday afternoon I broke out the catnip vault and spread a little on my living room
floor... A LITTLE. Just a sprinkle. A dab. A pinch. A morsel.
However, it was all Toby needed to literally climb the walls, jumping on top of the bookcase in my living room and trashing the blinds
in front of the sliding-glass door to the patio. Tabby probably would have joined him, but she was busy in the kitchen trying to eat my
ceramic salt and pepper shakers. When they (barely) didn't fit in her mouth, she ate three paper napkins instead before finishing off
her meal with half a magnet from my refrigerator door. I tried my best to stop all of this, but I was too busy cleaning the broken glass,
plastic, wood and ceramic they left behind on their trail of destruction from Ground Zero.
Never again. Ever.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go scrape the rest of my cats off the ceiling.
March 4, 2008: Bedwetting and static electricity
My little monsters are annoying even when they're trying to be cute. Case in point: Toby has started crawling up in bed with me and
kneading his paws into my upper arm at night. Awwwwww. Charming and endearing, huh? That's what I thought, too. Until I turned
over to go to sleep, and discovered he was drooling the whole time. Enough to leave an entire puddle of drool, right there beside my
arm. I had to get up and change the sheets, robbing me of valuable beauty sleep -- and you KNOW how much I need that.
Same thing the next night: Toby crawls up beside me, starts to knead, and lulls me into letting my guard down. Then when it's too late
to do anything about it, he scampers away to leave me to deal with the mess he's left behind. How cute. Charming and endearing?
Not even close.
However, I have discovered a silver lining in the Washington, D.C.-area climate: Static electricity. The air here is very dry especially
compared to Florida, and that means lots of static electricity in my home. Specifically, it means a little shock for TnT every time I
reach out to touch them. I am enjoying this, probably too much.
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