Fabulous on Friday

"We all know cats have nine lives, but two faces?" 

So begins the below article about a Janus, a rare cat with craniofacial duplication, or diprosopia, which causes all or part of a face to be duplicated. 

Frank and Louie, as the Janus cat is aptly named, was rescued from an animal shelter 12 years ago (where he had been taken to be euthanized), and he is now in the 2012 Guinness World Records book as the world's oldest-living two-faced feline. 

Marty, who is Frank and Louie's owner, is definitely Fabulous on Friday (and everyday, of course), as is her beloved Janus cat.

Read the incredible story here:

http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/nationnow/2011/09/meow-meow-two-faced-cat-wins-place-in-record-book.html?track=icymi

Wednesday's Woof

Recently a beautiful, sweet female Siberian Husky was adopted from a local shelter, then returned to the shelter only days later.  Why?  Because, the adopters said, she was "too vocal."  Huh?

Anyone who knows anything about Huskies knows they are vocal, they like to "talk."  It's just something they do.

Which brings me to a subject which is so very important to anyone thinking of adopting an animal - do your research.  Find out everything you can about the breed(s) you are interested in.  Do not adopt a dog or cat based on its looks.  Huskies, especially, fall victim to the uninformed adopter perhaps more than most.  People love the Husky look, not realizing that Huskies are working dogs, social dogs, vocal dogs. 

Huskies make fabulous, wonderful family members, but should not be left alone in the backyard for long periods of time.  Some dogs don't mind that at all and will do just fine.

If you are thinking of adopting, please be sure to do some research first.  And then adopt! And that is Wednesday's Woof.

It takes a Terrier

Yesterday on my way to work, driving up the 110 Freeway, I was bemoaning the fact that I once again had to go to work. Not only was it Monday, the first and worst day of the week, but I was exceptionally tired and in no mood to deal with all the traffic that I was facing. The freeway had done its usual stop at its junction with the 105 Freeway and was just beginning to move again when all of the lights ahead of me flashed red, and everyone around me started slowing down and stopping, again. I noticed that there was a woman in her mid-20s to mid-30s running towards me down the freeway. I thought, what the heck is going on! Then I saw the little terrier mix running away from the woman down the middle of the freeway. This woman had stopped her car in the middle of the 110 Freeway, jumped out, and was attempting to rescue this poor little creature, who obviously didn’t understand that she was the best thing that was going to happen to him this day. 

In fact, as I glanced around me, everyone was slowing down, stopping, and attempting to help this dog. There were people opening up their car doors as he ran past in an attempt to grab him. He was eluding everyone. Finally, two motorcyclists, acting like shepherds, herded the terrier mix to the side of the freeway, where the original woman who had jumped out of her car, and another woman with the foresight to jump out with a bag of treats, corralled the dog.

 

As I continued on to work after witnessing this rescue, I was overwhelmed with emotion. At no point did anyone honk with impatience while the rescue was underway. This little dog showed me I am surrounded by good people, more so than I would have ever thought.

Dogs Versus Silence

What is it about silence that makes dogs want to make noise?  What is it about silence that sits well with cats, but  causes dogs to listen intently, like Super Dog - because they want to hear something they can bark at.  And then silence no more.

Do you think your dog is sleeping?  No, he is concentrating.... listening carefully to sounds near and far.  Could that rustling in the trees be barkworthy? Is that faint faraway echo the bark of a distant dog?

Of course to some dogs, anything (and nothing) is barkworthy.  Some dogs bark because they can.  Kumquat is one of those.  He barks loudly, and often.  Sometimes he has a reason, but often not. 

In contrast, I have heard Sneaky Squirrel bark exactly once the entire time I have known him.  One single, tiny solitary pipsqueak bark.  Something was definitely barkworthy that day, I just wish I knew what it was.

Fabulous on Friday -

This week's Fabulous on Friday just has to be ... hydro puppy, aka Baby Harper (story link below).

This is a truly awe-inspiring story that covers all the bases, from the dregs of humanity that sell puppys in parking lots, to the selfless rescuers (hello, Erica Daniel) that never ever give up.

Read the entire heartwarming story here: 

http://today.msnbc.msn.com/id/44617504/ns/today-good_news/?GT1=43001

Erica Daniel is most definitely Fabulous on Friday, and Fabulous every single day of every single year!

Opie - Speed Racer

For a cat who spends most of his time sitting around staring at walls, it's always fascinated me that Opie will suddenly, in the middle of a grand stare, decide that he needs to get to the next room as fast as he possibly can.  So that he can sit and stare in the next room.

Sometimes Opie's need for speed causes him to take shortcuts across furniture and over and through people.  I've received more than one nasty scratch as Opie sailed over my bed / chair / couch. 

On occasion Opie has an attachment - a Darwin or a Lillie-Belle, say, hot on his heels.  Those forays usually entail a tear or two around the entire premise.  Things crash, stuff breaks.

It's happened in the dead of the night, it's happened early in the morning, it's happened during the middle of the day. 

Opie needs to get somewhere, fast.  And sometimes he needs to take someone with him.

When people harken back to the "olden days" as they often do in times of stress, they sometimes think of favorite things from their past.  Favorites toys, favorites clothing, favorites books.  Favorites pets.

Pets were different then.  A dog was a dog.  Do you remember seeing dog dresses and sweaters, and bedazzled collars?  I don't.

We had the best dog ever.  His name was Sam, and he was a black Lab.  Sam was our "Old Yeller."  I don't remember him doing anything wrong, ever.  He watched the kids, he watched the yard. 

Sam never wore clothes, never had a cute matching collar and leash set, never went to doggie yoga.  He ate his meals on the back porch.  Sam ate table scraps, chased squirrels and followed us around.  Once my dad gave Sam a treat in the house.  Sam sat statue-like with a big lump in his cheek for the longest time - he didn't want to eat in the house because he knew he was supposed to eat on the back porch.

No one ever came into our yard who wasn't supposed to.

He was the best dog we ever had.  And when he passed of old age, there was another black lab named Sam.  Kind of like the sequel to Old Yeller.

Back when dogs were dogs.

Twink-A-Bye-Baby

The Twink was dumped in the shelter as a very young kitten because she "scratched" her owners.  She was full of parasites and emaciated beyond belief – maybe she was scratching for some food.  Anyway, Twink made a speedy recover but has always been a little bit odd, no doubt in part because she lacked a mother figure. 

But Twink has her Baby.  A [used to be] bright red ratty, natty, nappy little red stuffed toy that has no right to still exist in any shape or form (in fact I no longer remember what it used to be).  Twink loves her Baby and where Twink goes, Baby goes.  I've found Twink's Baby in just about every crack and crevice in the home over the past 9 years.

On occasion Twink will prowl the house uttering a most odd, plaintive wail, with her Baby in her mouth.  She roams slowly from room to room as if looking for a safe place for Baby to sleep.  Even without looking I can always tell when Twink is roaming with Baby by the sound of her wailing..

The place I find Twink's Baby most often is in my bed.  Baby sleeps through most of the shenanigans caused by Twink, Little Mess and the others.  Wish I could ....

Twink-A-Bye-Baby, indeed.

Cats Versus Car Rides

Not sure why every cat I've ever owned has hated car rides.   And when I say hate, I mean it in every sense of the word.

I have heard of a few cats that actually enjoyed car rides and would accompany their owners on drives.

My experience has been quite unpleasant.  The worst of mine is Puddin.  She begins wailing like a banshee the second she is put into a carrier.  In fact just getting Puddin into a carrier is an ordeal - she fights the process tooth and claw.

Puddin shrieks so loud whilst I'm going down the road that I have to turn up the radio.  And where there is shrieking, there is pee and poop.  And vomit.  That pretty much goes for whichever cat is in the car - shriek, pee, poop and vomit.  Usually in that order.

When it comes to cats versus cars, the cars definitely lose.

Lillie-Belle's Swell

Lillie-Belle is one of those really swell cats.  In fact she's so swell she's known by several names - Little Button, Little Bean, or just plain LB.

Lillie-Belle almost never stops purring.  She purrs while she eats, she purrs while she drinks, she purrs while she sleeps. She purrs while she purrs.  And loudly!  I sometimes have to turn the tv up so I can hear it over the purring.

As far as getting along with the others, cats yes (except for Little Mess, probably jealous of her looks), dogs no. Lillie-Belle does not do dogs. 

I've always thought Opie has a mad cat crush on LB.  Silently he watches her, stealthily he follows her, even stalks her.  There is an old-fashioned genteel charm about Lillie-Belle, almost a prissiness.  She's always thought she was just a little bit better than the others.  Not in a snobby way, just a knowing way.


You can just tell, Lillie-Belle's swell.

Kumquat the Squat

Kumquat is Sneaky Squirrel's best friend.  Like Squirrel, Kumquat is also a rescue dog, but unlike Sneaky Squirrel he will most likely be moving on to a permanent home soon.  He is outgoing and friendly to everyone, something that Squirrel is not.

Kumquat is a shorty, a low-rider with some of the shortest legs I've ever seen.  Probably a Dachsund and ? mix, he's incredibly cute, even if he has trouble keeping his short little legs in his harness.

When I take Sneaky Squirrel for a walk, so does Kumquat.  He grabs Squirrel's leash with his mouth, wherever he can grab hold of it, and goes motoring along on his little stubs.  He's every bit as bold as his little friend is timid.

My little shorty backs down to no one, man or dog, no matter the size.  He makes Sneaky Squirrel feel very safe.  Kumquat's head is kind of big for his body and it sort of rolls from side to side.  Sneaky Squirrel's head is tiny and it bobs up and down.

Everyone should have a friend like Kumquat the Squat.

Sneaky Squirrel's Big Boy Pants

Sneaky Squirrel has been afraid of his own shadow since we brought him home from the shelter.  At the shelter, he was always either shaking and shivering with fear, or growling at some unknown threat. Sometimes shaking and growling at the same time.


Sometimes when Sneaky Squirrel is out for a walk, he will hear something in the distance and cower.  Sometimes he sees something he perceives as scary, and he slinks low to the ground, tail tucked. 


We have another Chihuahua living close by, about half the size of Sneaky Squirrel.  When we see this other Chi, he acts aggressive towards my scared little Squirrel, and my little Squirrel is traumatized beyond belief.  He flattens himself like a pancake and is afraid to move.


Well tonight, the bossy little Chi went after my little Squirrel.  And to my surprise, Sneaky Squirrel did not cower.  He did not flatten himself and try to disappear.  No, my Sneaky Squirrel walked right over to the bossy Chi and said hello.  And the bossy Chi backed off.


And for the duration of our walk, my little guy walked proud and held his tail high.


Sneaky Squirrel put his Big Boy Pants on tonight.

 

Darwin's Theory

Darwin's Theory is thus:  If there is a drawer, cupboard, cabinet, or box that is even slightly open or ajar, he must go in there.  Darwin must, at all costs, even if across the room, dart to the sound of an opening drawer or cupboard.  There is an open something, and he must be in it.

If getting in the open something means jumping and sliding across a dining room table or kitchen counter and taking everything in his path with him, so be it.  If a more stealth maneuver is required, then it will be done.  Stealth maneuvers are usually reserved  for the small hall closet, 

for that is where he is known to get in the most trouble, and that is where one is most on guard for Darwin the Doorwalker.  He has been known to run in from three rooms away when he hears the hall closet open - and dart in just as the door is closing.  Once inside the closet it is nearly impossible to get him out for he immediately disappears into the accumulated hall treasures (his words, not mine).  One doesn't want Darwin in the hall closet.  One can only leave him in there until he is done exploring (translation:  knocking things off shelves, spilling things, making a mess) and ready to come out.  And when cleaning up after Darwin, one must do so with the door shut lest he sneaks in again to wreak more havoc.

According to Darwin's Theory, if it is open, he will go in.  

Cats Versus Fresh Flowers

I love cats.  I love fresh flowers.  I love the way a beautiful vase of freshly cut flowers looks and smells - a fresh bouquet on the dining room table or kitchen counter brings the room alive.

The stalking begins almost at first touch of the vase to the table - they stalk the flowers from the stairway landing, from behind the couch, from behind the drapes.  And before you know it, they are upon them.

Cats love fresh flowers.  They love to sit and stare at them, chew on them, pull them out of the vase.  Toss the leaves all over the house, attack the flower pedals.  Make a mess with the water.  Chew on the leaves and throw up.  Cats versus flowers.  Flowers lose.

Cats Versus Sleeping In

Maybe it's because they can sleep all day if they want to, and they often do.  But cats, my cats at least, do not, ever, allow me to sleep in.  Not even one day a week.

Typically I will awaken quite early to any number of things:  Twink smashed against my side-head-thigh or leg, Little Mess and Opie growling at each other from opposite ends of the bed, Puck laying on my pillow above my head and purring like a locomotive, and/or Darwin causing a calamity opening cupboards and knocking things around once inside.

Of course this is all because, from watching the way they all run around the cat dishes once I'm out of bed, they obviously haven't eaten in years.  Twink is especially obnoxiously loud, running to and fro and here and there in a frenzy until she is fed.  Umm, Twink, looked in a mirror lately? 

And Puck wails like a banshee .... he of the 20-lbs.  So on a Saturday morning, when I should be snuggled up in bed with my sweet dreams, I am forced to journey to the kitchen and conjure up breakfast for the felines.  Well, then of course the dogs must be fed as well.

Sweet dreams, indeed. 



Puddin Time

Puddin Time is most any time of the day.  Puddin is a tortie, by now senior, who has been with us since she was teeny tiny.  To this day Puddin is extremely shy, even around the other cats.  The exception is Puck, the only cat who has been here longer than Puddin.  They are kind of like an old married couple.

Puddin is a very nocturnal cat.  She likes to sleep ALL day, but she is always open to petting and attention.  That's what we call Puddin Time. 

When it's bedtime, Puddin comes out and likes to snuggle up.  That's also Puddin Time.  Puddin is an extremely soft and snuggly cat.  She's a bit on the full-figured side, but healthy, and one of the sweetest cats you will ever meet.

Daytime, Nightime, Anytime.  It's all Puddin Time.  And that's the way we like it!

The Puck Stops Here

Puck is Boss Cat.  Let there be no doubt.  Puck is the only resident of this home (present company included) who goes where he wants, when he wants, eats when he wants, where he wants.  Puck is Boss Cat.

Puck has rarely been challenged by other cats, even those only passing through.  On occasion, a dog has challenged Puck.  On occasion, a dog has learned that Puck is Boss Cat.  Usually after a swipe to their big old dog nose.


Puck is not a mean cat or a bad cat, not by any means.  Puck is a very sweet, loving cat who purrs louder than an cat I've ever known.  But he does not suffer fools, never has.  And when he's in his spot on the stairway landing, dogs do not pass.  Cats may pass, but go softly, go wide.

Because the Puck stops here.

Little Mess

The Little Mess, of course, by virtue of the fact that she's not the brightest of the bunch, often finds herself on the receiving end of a well-placed paw swipe.   Often at bedtime, because as cats (and other animals) often do, Little Mess favors a certain place on the bed that is also the favored sleeping spot of one Miss Twink - she of the notorious bad temper. 

Naturally whichever one gets the favored, special spot first, either Mess or Twink, must sleep with an eye open in order to defend this special spot (which happens to be along my right side, smashed as close against me as possible).  And the other spends a good part of the evening trying to get as close to the special spot as possible.  As one might have guessed, it's only a matter of time before a tussle ensues.

But this is not the only special spot at bedtime.  My bed is home to many special spots, and the night is filled with all sorts of intrigue.  And squabbles and strange noises.

But it is also filled with the sounds of purring and cooing, and lots of cozy cuddles.  We all have our special spots.

Dopie Opie

Opie isn't really dopie.  Opie is just one of those cats that is really hard to figure out.  Opie looks very serious all the time, he kind of just sits around and stares.  I guess you could say he has a staring problem.


One other thing is for sure though - he hates The Little Mess.  He can't even stand to look at her.

Whenever I hear a scruffle or a scrum, it's usually Opie causing problems with the Little Mess, who rarely starts anything all. 

The Little Mess seems to be the bane of Opie's existence.  Maybe he hates her because she's so beautiful.  He may have self-image problems.

He arrived when he was tiny, tiny, tiny, and infested with fleas.  He got a flea bath, and looked very much like a little bat.  That may have been the beginning of his self-image problems. 

Opie definitely needs a visit or two to the kitty shrink.  But he hates car rides.