The BABY is supposed to be the one keeping me up

“Thump. Meow! Thump. Meow! Thump. Meow!” (Angus attempting to open a bathroom cabinet that doesn’t completely close.)

Belle uncharacteristically walking over our sleeping bodies in the middle of the night.

Angus puking for a grand finale, just as the sun was coming up.

Me, wondering why I ever became a kittymomma.

Bottoms up! Please!!

Why do cats stick their butts in your face when you do not want to look at them and walk around with their tails in the air showing off their business, but act outraged if you actually try to look at them? (Before anyone asks, you are supposed to periodically glance at your cat’s rear to check for signs of infection or illness.) To be fair, I guess my cats aren’t actually trying to stick their butts in my face. It’s just an unfortunate side effect at times when I am lying on the floor petting them.

I thought I noticed a lump on Belle’s posterior the other day. I think it’s nothing, but I wanted to do a comparison by checking the boys’ butts before I rushed her off to the vet. (Such is my glamorous life. Bottoms have become a big part of it. No pun intended.) I just couldn’t remember if her butt always looked like that. Of course, now that I need to get a look, no one is obliging. (They don’t like it very much if you actually try to hold their tail up and look. I knew that, but I was desperate.) So, I guess she will be off to the vet when Fort goes in for his annual in the next couple of weeks. I can’t be too careful, since she is technically a senior cat now. Think good thoughts! I am a little worried about my sweet Belle-cat.

Happiness, TX

Tonight is the third anniversary of the day I moved in with my husband. Which means I have now lived in North Austin a year longer than I lived in South Austin. I have officially lost most of my weird points. I hang my head in shame. Luckily, I have a baby and rarely get out of the house, so it really doesn’t matter where I live at this point.

I would rather live in North Austin with Chris, Max, Belle, Angus, and Fort than in the very heart of the 78704 alone. I would move to Frame Switch if that’s what I had to do to be with them. Happy anniversary, baby, and Happy New Year to all!

Triple Threat

Just now I was petting Belle and Angus, Kegel-ing, and surfing the Internet, all at the same time. No wonder I have trouble calming down enough to sleep at night.

Angus and his Magnificent Tail

My cat Angus is a Maine Coon mix. I am not sure what else is in the mix, but Maine Coon is definitely a large part of his genetic makeup. A characteristic of the Maine Coon is a fluffy tail. Angus’s tail is beyond fluffy. It is Magnificent, Resplendent, and alas, Destructive. Unfortunately, the owner of said tail has no idea of its powers. I have seen this tail clear whole coffee tables with a single swish. I have seen it knock soda cans off of their precarious perch next to our brimming recycling baskets and scare the tail’s owner half to death. He has no idea that HE knocked over the cans, poor skittish darling.

If you are in need of further proof of this tail’s amazing powers, simply consider this quote from a morning last week. I swear this is an actual quote of words that came out of my mouth, “Angus, get your tail out of Mommy’s underwear.” Now see if you can guess what amazing hijinks the tail and its unconscious possessor have been up to now. I will give you one hint. Angus, his tail, and I were in the bathroom.

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