Stalker and skulker
Sunday, December 4th, 2022 Alive 18,849 days
I donʼt always know when Tina is skulking around the garden, but Annie always knows.
I donʼt always know when Tina is skulking around the garden, but Annie always knows.
New from Scholastic! Itʼs Nancy Drew and the Mystery of the Hidden Cat!
Look for it in a bookmobile near you!
Itʼs O.K., Annie. I have a button to do that.
Halloween can be educational. In addition to teaching children about math (candy nutrition labels), geography (mapping out a trick-or-treat route), history (Halloween folklore), and extortion ("Trick or treat!"), it's also possible to learn about physics. The way to do that is with a Halloween bubble light.
I don't know why bubble lights went out of fashion, but showing a child that something that is boiling can still safe to touch is an opportunity to learn about the phases of matter, the elements, boiling points, and all kinds of happy physics and chemistry things.
Also, it's never too early to put up Halloween decorations — if they're educational.
Annie spends so much time sleeping in the closet that I decorated her front door for Halloween.
“Whadda ya mean there's no Facebook Messenger on this thing? I have to call my bookie to beat the spread!”
Annie tucks tighter than Thomas Daley in the men's 10 meter synchronized platform event.
I thought I was being all clever, using my phoneʼs camera flash to see what was making that noise in the dark.
It turns out, I donʼt want to know.
This is Snook, the shopcat at Louisiana Music Factory. Heʼs very affectionate when not sleeping in a sunny window, but doesnʼt respond when asked for advice on jazz records.
Sounds about right. If you canʼt trust graffiti, who can you trust?
Annie likes to pull the green peppers and black olives off of my pizza. But only if itʼs from Frankʼs Pizza. If itʼs any other pizza, she just eats the cheese.
My cat eats a lot of cheese.
Sometimes Annie watches Star Trek with me. Itʼs no surprise; all the ladies love Riker.
I really should stop this tomfoolery. But I also want to find out if sheʼs dumb enough to get her head stuck in a peanut can.
Annie has decided that Iʼve done enough work for today, and I should turn my attention to smaller, furrier needs.
Annie has found a safe location from which to observe the Grand Unpacking of All the Things.
Annie is half in the bag this morning.
Annie reflects on her day.
Annie relaxing at the Aloft Hotel in San Antonio.
“Dude, there's a Smokey on your tail. Floor it!”
Annie surveys our room at the Best Western Plus Hotel in Fort Stockton, Texas before settling down to sleep on top of the refrigerator.
After a busy day surveying the packing of all of our things, Annie snoozes high atop the pile of stuff in our living room.
She canʼt read, but Annie sure digs those Nancy Drew books.
The lease for my new apartment is very long, but I read the entire document anyway.It turns out that I am not allowed to let my cat smoke a hookah in the freight elevator.
First thing on my to-do list once Iʼm settled: Buy a cat-sized hookah.
As I write this, I can hear the announcers at the baseball stadium a block away announcing the starting lineup. Itʼs the Las Vegas Aviators against the Sacramento River Cats. I hope thatʼs a fish, since generally speaking, cats and rivers get along like hydrogen bombs and Pacific atolls.
A big league baseball team, the Oakland Aʼs, was here all week inspecting the stadium and the city and the showgirls. Since Las Vegas stole Oaklandʼs football team, it seems natural to try to steal its baseball team, as well. The move would happen before Las Vegas could built a real stadium, so until one can be erected, the Aʼs would play… wait for it… a block away from me. What could possibly go wrong?
Iʼm tired. Annie is going to work for me today.
I wonder if a daisy smells the same to her as it does to me.
Annie doesnʼt worry about money. She doesnʼt worry about COVID. She doesnʼt know there are bad people in the world.
All she knows is that she has a full tummy, and an attentive friend. And thatʼs all that matters to her.
“If youʼd get me a computer of my own, I could finish your taxes a lot faster.”
“The boredom. I has it. Play with me.”
Annie is not impressed by my mad Pong skills.
“Does this sunlight make me look fat?”
“I see youʼre got enough toilet paper to last for the rest of the year. How about stocking up on kitty treats? The good stuff, none of this house-brand Safeway crap.”
Today Annie sat in the bathroom doorway and watched as I cleaned my toilet. So naturally, I felt obligated to clean the cat box next.
I think just got guilt-tripped by a cat.
Today I learned that Annie is in the market for a whole-home water treatment system. I guess I should clean her kitty bowls more often.
“Thank you for the box. Itʼs just what I wanted.”
Todayʼs coffee is Kitty Coffee from Populace Coffee in Bay City, Michigan. Of course, your coffee can be Doggie Coffee or whatever you want, since Populace will print whatever you want on the bag. Upload a photo, and add some text, and youʼre done.
The price is pretty reasonable, considering that itʼs a one-off printing. I think itʼs around $22, including shipping.
That said, even though the coffee is good, this is an operation to avoid. When I shop online, I use a different e-mail address with each merchant. Thatʼs how I know that Populace sold my e-mail address to spammers, and also sold my phone number to text message spammers trying to push coffee grinders on me. This is not how you win a repeat customer.
About the only normal thing these days is the cat. She eats. She poops. She licks herself. All the normal things a cat should do. Sheʼs never been very bright, so she doesnʼt know anything is wrong. The last cat was very empathetic. He knew when something was wrong, and would comfort us. If he heard Darcie cry or yelp or swear, heʼd run to her side. Now she only has me. Itʼs not the same thing.
In the street this afternoon:
Neighbor: Hi, Wayne!
Me: Hey, Peter. Been quiet around your place lately.
Peter: Yeah, we were visiting my mom.
Me: Yeah, Annie told me.
Peter: Isnʼt Annie your cat?
Peter: You talk to your cat?
Me: No, that would be crazy. She talks to me.
Peter: …long pause… Well, I gotta go check on the kidsʼ homework now. See you later!
Darcie says things like this are why his family doesnʼt come to our door for trick-or-treat.
Happy cat, or dead bug? You decide.
I guess if I never take pictures of dogs, my phone has no reference point to work from.
Perhaps it thinks “Dog = ugly cat.”
Cleaning the litter box is a lot more festive this time of year, what with all the butt nuggets threaded together with tinsel missing from the tree like the worst Christmas train ever.
I just found out we have these things living in the neighborhood. Theyʼre called Minerʼs Cats. Theyʼre supposed to be good mousers, and easily domesticated, but they attract owls.
Whenever I break out the wood grain wonder, Annie comes to join me.
She doesnʼt always set up camp in the cabinet, though.
Itʼs just not Christmas until the first cat barfs up a ball of tinsel.
What a cat with a tummy full of tinsel looks like.
While I appreciate Henri trying to help me fix the Atari, it would probably go faster if he wasnʼt sitting on the multimeter.
All it takes is one good sunbeam, and my living room looks like a scene from every Agatha Christie novel.
Except, with cats.
Santa dropped off a present for the Annie and Henri today. Hopefully they donʼt figure out what it is.
I hurt my back this morning, so when I got home all I wanted to do is sit in the bed, watch TV, and eat a pizza. Now I have a furry little nurse to make sure Iʼm OK.
Henri canʼt decide if Iʼm decorating for Christmas, or filming a Police music video.
Watching the dog show on TV was really inspirational. I think my animals may have a chance.
Annie, for example, is a shoo-in for “Best in Slow.”
I havenʼt had Thanksgiving with relatives in 24 years. But I still have a family member who gorges himself on turkey and passes out in front of the TV.
I think this is the cat equivalent of a dog drinking all of the water from a Christmas tree stand.
A lolcat must be driving.
Does anyone know of a good way to control feline flatulence?
Asking for Mr. Fuzzynuts over there.
I can understand Siri not knowing the word “smurgle.” But she doesnʼt know “Munchos?” Do nerds not eat junk food anymore?
This is not a still frame from a video of Annie rolling over. This is just how she lays on the floor these days.
She really is the strangest thing on four paws.
It really is a miracle that I get anything done at all.
Today I left the house because the cat was being an asshole.
It may be time to re-evaluate how I rank around here.
There should be a word for when youʼre taking a leak, and the cat walks between you and the toilet with his tail raised high, and you end up peeing on your own cat.
I mean other than “Eeeeew.”