Check out my photos for a super cute picture of my parent's dog, Dixie (who is way too fat!) and Mr.Kitten/Mr.Kitty, the 11 year old barn cat.
Anyway, I love cats. I love cats almost as much as ponies/horses, dairy cows and Joe.
I can go on and on for hours about how smart my dog is (Riley) or how dumb she is (Mary). Don't get me wrong, I love our dogs and all of the funny, wonderful, smart, stupid things they do, but its Roosevelt that I really love. In fact, I have and will go as far to say that if Roosevelt got cancer, I'd probably treat it. That's right. Me, the hater of animal cancer treatments (other than amputation/cutting it out), would spend money on treating the mutt cat I found on the street before I would on my AKC purebred dog. Its not that I don't love Riley lots and lots, but Roosevelt is a special sort.
And now for some random thoughts about cats. (Really, mostly about Roosevelt.)
I don't know any crazy veterinary things about them. Except for the fact that they are not small dogs. And ferrets are not small cats.
I've been thinking about getting Roosevelt into acting. I don't know how you do that but I'm pretty sure that Roosevelt can sit around looking cute and eat. However, as Joe pointed out, he is fat. Not so much fat as big with that big flabby cat gut thing they get. Why do they get that? Are there veterinarians out there doing kitty tummy tucks? (AKA tabby tummy tucks because alliteration makes everything better) How much do you think they would cost?
Roosevelt has taken to peeing in my bathtub. I think its in protest of a smelly litter box though I did clean it and put baking soda in it. However, I'm pretty sure it still might smell to him. He does poop in it though which I suppose is all that really matters. Is the bathtub one step away from toilet training him?
Roosevelt is facinated by cords to electrical things. He likes to drag them away and is why there is a pair of head phones in the hallway.
I think declawing is cruel. Joe won't let me get another cat unless its declawed so I'll probably adopt one from a shelter that is. Roosevelt doesn't claw up furniture but carpet and walls are another story. (Is it hypocritical that I have nothing against tail docking (which I think is cute!) or ear cropping? Probably.)
If domestic cats were in the wild, would they be solitary like mountain lions or live in groups like lions? Would a group still be called a colony or would it get a better name like pride of lions or paralament of owls. (Matt Ryan taught me that.)
I can't wait for Halloween and making Roosevelt his new costume.
Roosevelt joined me and the dogs outside the other day. He was secured on his harness so basically, he just laid there and when attempting to run off was promptly jerked back to reality. Mary only tried to paralyze him once.
Roosevelt has also taken to hiding in a box in the kitchen. Mary will stand over it and not see him nestled all down inside and then suddenly she gets a paw swipe. I don't think we can ever throw out that box now. I have pictures of him in his box but that's downstairs and I'm not there. Maybe later.
Well, that's all the random thoughts I have about cats/Roosevelt. So now I'm going to go to bed and think about cats and ponies and dairy cows...and maybe Joe. Things haven't been the greatest between us lately which is another reason I love cats so much-unconditionallove.
[EDIT-Originally, posted to Blogger on March 26, 2011.]
Anyway, I love cats. I love cats almost as much as ponies/horses, dairy cows and Joe.
I can go on and on for hours about how smart my dog is (Riley) or how dumb she is (Mary). Don't get me wrong, I love our dogs and all of the funny, wonderful, smart, stupid things they do, but its Roosevelt that I really love. In fact, I have and will go as far to say that if Roosevelt got cancer, I'd probably treat it. That's right. Me, the hater of animal cancer treatments (other than amputation/cutting it out), would spend money on treating the mutt cat I found on the street before I would on my AKC purebred dog. Its not that I don't love Riley lots and lots, but Roosevelt is a special sort.
And now for some random thoughts about cats. (Really, mostly about Roosevelt.)
I don't know any crazy veterinary things about them. Except for the fact that they are not small dogs. And ferrets are not small cats.
I've been thinking about getting Roosevelt into acting. I don't know how you do that but I'm pretty sure that Roosevelt can sit around looking cute and eat. However, as Joe pointed out, he is fat. Not so much fat as big with that big flabby cat gut thing they get. Why do they get that? Are there veterinarians out there doing kitty tummy tucks? (AKA tabby tummy tucks because alliteration makes everything better) How much do you think they would cost?
Roosevelt has taken to peeing in my bathtub. I think its in protest of a smelly litter box though I did clean it and put baking soda in it. However, I'm pretty sure it still might smell to him. He does poop in it though which I suppose is all that really matters. Is the bathtub one step away from toilet training him?
Roosevelt is facinated by cords to electrical things. He likes to drag them away and is why there is a pair of head phones in the hallway.
I think declawing is cruel. Joe won't let me get another cat unless its declawed so I'll probably adopt one from a shelter that is. Roosevelt doesn't claw up furniture but carpet and walls are another story. (Is it hypocritical that I have nothing against tail docking (which I think is cute!) or ear cropping? Probably.)
If domestic cats were in the wild, would they be solitary like mountain lions or live in groups like lions? Would a group still be called a colony or would it get a better name like pride of lions or paralament of owls. (Matt Ryan taught me that.)
I can't wait for Halloween and making Roosevelt his new costume.
Roosevelt joined me and the dogs outside the other day. He was secured on his harness so basically, he just laid there and when attempting to run off was promptly jerked back to reality. Mary only tried to paralyze him once.
Roosevelt has also taken to hiding in a box in the kitchen. Mary will stand over it and not see him nestled all down inside and then suddenly she gets a paw swipe. I don't think we can ever throw out that box now. I have pictures of him in his box but that's downstairs and I'm not there. Maybe later.
Well, that's all the random thoughts I have about cats/Roosevelt. So now I'm going to go to bed and think about cats and ponies and dairy cows...and maybe Joe. Things haven't been the greatest between us lately which is another reason I love cats so much-unconditionallove.
[EDIT-Originally, posted to Blogger on March 26, 2011.]
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