Tag Archives: cats

Turning into my mother

My mom is not the biggest fan of the animals that live in her house. She loves bringing them in to her house, and she loves taking care of them if they are sick or hurt, but if she happens to see one of the family pets enjoying itself a little too much sitting on the couch watching tv that pet better watch out.

One of her biggest pet peeves was when we would feed the animals on regular dishes. If she saw a bowl on the floor with traces of cat food in it she would pretty much flip out.

Why are you using human bowls for cats? Why? The cats have their own bowls! There are cat bowls and there are human bowls. This is disgusting. All of you are disgusting. I am moving. To a one bedroom apartment. In the Philippines. Wanna come?

Honestly, I always thought she was crazy. It wasn’t like we let the cats eat out of the bowl, and then put them back in the cupboard when they were done. We put them in the sink for her to wash. Geez.

This all changed today.

I walked into the kitchen and saw one of my bowls on the floor next to the cat’s dining area…

Mark, did you feed the cats with one of my bowls?

He didn’t seriously use one of my bowls for that disgusting cat food. I mean cats mouths are so dirty. I don’t want to eat after a cat on one of my human bowls. Ewwww.

Yeah, and they ate a lot better out of it rather than just leaving the food in the can like you do.

I’m not positive, because I haven’t asked for clarification, however, I’m pretty sure he is planning on using MY human bowl regularly to feed CATS.

Not cool, dude. Not cool at all.

What else is not cool?

That I’m obviously turning into my mother when it comes to the animals. Uh oh. Nala and Omi better watch out.

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Public Service Announcement

I think more people read my blog when I don’t post.  And by “more people” I mean five.

I need to say this here because I’ve said it everywhere else.  On Sunday I’m going to be leading a workshop.  On how to communicate with your significant other better.  That significant other can be a husband, wife, boyfriend, girlfriend, or very vocal cat.  If there is someone that you either a) don’t feel like you’re talking to enough or b) you’re talking to a lot but in a way that leaves you hoarse from all the shouting then you should think about coming.

It’s going to be fun.  I hated boring classes.  It’s amazing I made it through formal schooling.  It really is a miracle (the real miracle is that I never read any of the books that were assigned… and still kicked the report card’s arse).  Anyways, I like things to be fun.  And interactive.  And for you to leave feeling like you learned a little more about yourself.  You should come.  Really.

Ok.  The ad is over.

Oops.  The part I keep almost forgetting.  The workshop is October 5th at 5:00 at Haywood Hill Baptist Church.

Now it’s over.

Now the funny can begin.

My step-cat, Nala, is getting fat.  Mark and I have been concerned for a few weeks now, wondering if he was just stout or really getting chunky.  We couldn’t tell.  To be honest, the extra weight looks good on him.  He looks stronger.  Like he could be a leading man in a major motion picture.  I’m serious.  I’d watch it.

So he is gaining weight and we’re trying to figure out if it is something we need to remedy.  So we’re all weighing him (“Ok, the scale says X (like hell I’m gonna tell you how much the scale says) pounds when I’m holding him, and Y (seriously, I’m not telling you what the scale said) pounds when I’m not… 5… 7… carry the 4… I think he weighs eleven pounds!”) and looking for indicators of feline obesity.

And we conclude that Nala is fat.  Overweight.  Needs to lose 2 pounds (which is a lot when you stand about a foot off the ground).

I believe that God gave us cats because He trusts us with His creatures.  Something about our character made God say, “Yes, you two, care for Omi and Nala.  Love them.  Make sure they don’t get fat.”

We have failed.  And instead of changing Nala’s diet to a higher protein one.  Or taking Nala for a walk (yes, cats can go on walks).  Or even paying a little more attention to how much he is eating, I’ve decided to opt for humiliation.

“Nala,” I say as I walk past him, “you sure do look chubby today!”

“Hey there, Fat Cat!”

“Nala.  Nala.  Pay attention to me cat.  I want to sing you a song… IIIIII liiiiike big CATS and I cannot lie… ha, ha, hey, where are you going?”

I’ll let you know if he loses any weight on this humiliation diet.  No, not diet.  Lifestyle.  Humiliation lifestyle.  If he does lose weight, you can bet your bottom dollar that it will be my next workshop topic.

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Growing family

You guys remember Nala? My step-cat?

He’s been doing lots of funny stuff lately. But I can’t write about it because that funny stuff includes the newest ingredient of McKinney-Oates Cereal. And I can’t introduce the newest member without pictures because that’s just wrong on some level.


Hello, World, my name is Omi.

Omi is my daughter and Mark‘s step-cat (because we split everything… it’s why this works).

There is, however, a problem in the definition of how Nala and Omi are related.

According to genetics? They share the same mother. They are half-siblings.

According to systems theory? They belong to the same subgroup of this blended family, categorically considered ‘offspring’

Nala and Omi watching Grey’s with me.

According to Nala? They are having a torrid love affair. Because the only time he isn’t biting her neck in a display of sexual dominance, he is sleeping out of pure exhaustion from chasing her around all day.

I’m all kinds of disgusted by this and have desperately searched Google for the Meow translation for “Nala, you are a hornball and you are trying to get it on with. your. SISTER! Stop!”

But he doesn’t get it. Apparently, the southern accent makes my Meow hard to understand.

Not to mention Mark is all about encouraging the behavior! Encouraging incest. Despicable.

“Hey, Nala, how is your girlfriend?” he’ll say with this icky tone that makes me feel like I’m in the guy’s locker room and Nala so totally scored last night.

“Um, yeah, that’s his sister, and we took his balls away from him months ago. Quit encouraging him.”

Anyways, other than being treated like a piece of meat since the moment she moved in, I really think Omi loves being part of our family. She is quirky, cuddly on her own terms, and pretty much the silkiest cat ever.

I’ve fallen in all sorts of love.

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