Jan. 18th, 2012 02:16 pm
gwynhefar: (Robin)
Dear Robin - I love you too, but rubbing your face up against my fingers while I'm tying my shoes is not cool. Please desist.
gwynhefar: (Default)
Hush, little kitty don't say a word,
Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird

And if that mockingbird ain't tasty,
Mama's gonna make you a mousemeat pastry

And if that mousemeat pastry goes stale,
Mama's gonna find you a lizard's tail

And if that lizard's tail goes splat,
Mama's gonna buy you a scratching mat

And if that scratching mat won't scratch,
Mama's gonna find you a bug to catch

And if that clever bug gets away,
Mama's gonna buy you a catnip tray

And if that lovely nip gets old,
Mama's gonna buy you a fish of gold

And if that goldfish comes to any harm,
Mama's gonna buy you a ball of yarn

And if that ball of yarn winds down,
You'll still be the most spoiled little kitty in town!
gwynhefar: (Robin)
Today I called Robin an "undisciplined mog." I think I've been hanging out (internetally speaking) with too many Brits.
gwynhefar: (Ciara)
I had an absolutely horrible nightmare last night. In my dream, I woke up to a bunch of yowling outside my bedroom door and so I went out to find the rest of the apartment *full* of cats. There must have been at least 20 or 25. Turns out somehow my cats had managed to unlock and open the door to the balcony and a bunch of strays from the woods behind the apartment came in (apparently climbing to the second floor with ease.)

So I was desperately trying to find my own cats in the sea of feline fur, get the others *out* of the apartment while keeping mine inside, and trying to make sure none of mine had actually left the apartment. Oh, and one of the strays had brought her three only-a-few-days-old kittens with her.

When I finally did wake up for real, I had to immediately go out and make sure the balcony door was closed and locked and all my kitties accounted for (and no extras).

I mean, I love cats, but even I have my limits!
gwynhefar: (Finnegan)
One of the problems of having a multiple cat household is that when you find something they've done that is so heinous it warrants immediate execution it's hard to know which cat to kill. Unlike dogs, cats don't look guilty when they know they've done something wrong. If anything, they look smug, but since that's a pretty common look on a cat, it's hard to tell who's smug because they did something dastardly and who's smug just because they happen to be a cat.

This morning, I was woken by howls of displeasure. Seems the cats had the midnight munchies, and the food bowl, which had had a respectable amount in it when I went to bed, was now empty. I've been trying to hold off on grocery shopping until after my paycheck hits on Wednesday, so there was no extra food in the house. Since this is my day to work late (and thus sleep late) I grumpily told them they wouldn't die with no food for a few hours and went back to bed. When I finally did get up, I went to the store and bought them more food, and they were happy. I thought all was fine. Until I went to get ready for work and picked up my work bag, which is actually just an old conference totebag I use to carry books and things back and forth from work.

In their indignation about their bowl not being *immediately* filled, it seems *someone* decided to express their displeasure by peeing on my bag. Unfortunately no one was willing to cop to it, so there wasn't much I could do.

*sigh* The bag's a total loss, although luckily there were no important papers in it. There were three books however, all of which took some damage. The two paperbacks are easily replaced (I was going to give one away anyway) but there was also a near-irreplaceable hardcover from my Harvard Classics series I got for my high school graduation. The faux-leather cover protected it somewhat, but I still had to sponge off the individual pages and hope it doesn't warp *too* much when it dries.

I wish I had one of those cool things like on CSI that can extract DNA from bodily fluids so I can find the exact culprit and string them up by their whiskers from the ceiling.

Stupid cats.
gwynhefar: (Robin)
Yesterday I was doing some work on the balcony (cause it's finally nice out) with the door open, as I sometimes do, and some of the cats wandered out. They've done it before, and I don't bother trying to keep them out, because I trust they won't actually jump from the balcony, and besides, they're usually pretty timid about this rarely explored place and scatter back inside at the slightest movement. When I was ready to go in, Fionnuala and Ciara scampered inside immediately, but Robin was being more difficult. He'd avoid me when I tried to herd him in, and when I picked him up and put him down inside, he squeezed back out before I closed the door. Annoyed, I stood in the doorway and yelled "Robin Séamus Ryan, you get in here right now!" Perhaps it was the effect of a full name he'd never actually heard before, or maybe it was just a raised voice, but he scampered back in double-time.

Thing is, until that moment, I never really conscious thought about Robin's middle name. His sister had one, Róisín Liath, because that means "little grey rose" in Irish, but I never really thought about the other cats' middle names. Except that Séamus just came out when I was yelling at Robin, and as soon as I sat down to think about it, names came pretty quickly for the rest too.

So, in case you're curious, my cats' full names are (in age order, just cause):

Robin Séamus
Fionnuala Maeve
Siobhán Aoife
Ciara Mór
Fiona Caitlín
Finnegan Cassidy
gwynhefar: (Fiona)
So I come home from work today and decide that one of the cupcakes I bought this weekend would be an excellent after-work snack.

I open the *sealed* cupcake carton, remove a cupcake, take off the wrapper, bring it up to my mouth, and . . . there's a cat hair in the icing. That cupcake couldn't have been exposed for more than 10 seconds. The cats were all the way in the other room. How the *hell* do they do it?
gwynhefar: (Finnegan)
The other cats get their nail clipped and it's really hard because they keep struggling and don't like me playing with their paws.

Finnegan gets his nails clipped and it's difficult because he keeps trying to play with the nail clipper. It's shiny.

This is the same cat that decided to play with my navel ring. While it was in my navel. Ouch.
gwynhefar: (Fionnuala)
Fionnuala is an odd cat. She's the only one of my cats who wasn't born on the street. She is clearly used to humans being around. This does not mean she came from a good situation. Fionnuala was born in the home of a hoarder. According to the shelter I adopted her from, she was removed from a small house with more than 75 other cats and 10 dogs.

The end result is that Fionnuala craves attention. She's never been paid attention to in her life. She'll take affection from anyone, anywhere. It's actually quite amusing -- when someone knocks on my door, 5 cats dart under the furniture, and Fionnuala runs to the door.

She's come a long way. When I first brought her home, there were serious behaviour issues. She had mood swings, where she'd be all affectionate one moment, and then bite your hand the next. And she was very jealous of the other cats. If I was petting one of the others, she would come over and try to insert her head between my hand and the other cat. If that didn't work, she'd snap at the other cat to drive them off. Luckily she stopped acting out once she became more secure, and learned that the fastest way to get me to *not* pay attention to her was to bully the other cats. The biting stopped too.

But she's still scarred, and probably always will be. She still gets jealous of attention given to anyone else, but she's learned to channel it elsewhere (cats are fascinating psychologically, really.) Whenever I'm petting another cat, she'll come up and rub her head against the other cat's. My other cats (all amazingly intelligent and tolerant individuals) put up with this foible as better than being snapped at, and it usually degenerates into an affection free-for-all, with me petting both cats and the cats grooming each other. I have a feeling the other 74 cats where she was born were too busy competing for limited resources to form any bonds of affection, so I'm sure that part is new for her too.

Yes, I have a lot of cats. Yes, they are all rescues of some sort. I've worked with shelters before. I understand the mindset that produces hoarders. It breaks my heart every time someone comes to me with a cat that needs help and I have to say no. But I say no. Because I only have to look at Fionnuala to see that hoarding *does not help*. I love her dearly, but as they say, the girl's got issues.

On the other hand, seeing Fionnuala curled up with one of the kittens and getting her ears licked with that blissful, Oh-my-gods-I'm-being-noticed look on her face makes it all worthwhile.
gwynhefar: (Default)
Today is not a good day. My allergies are acting up, making me sniffly, sneezy, drippy, and cotton-headed. I'm utterly exhausted, because I didn't manage to get to sleep last night until after 1:30am, and I was woken up around 6am, not by the massive thunderstorm that was raging outside, but by the howling of the panicked cats that were afraid of the storm. Of course, today is the day, according to the notice left by my apartment complex, that they are coming to check the chimneys and make sure all is safe. The notice politely asked me to make sure that all pets were secured in another room.

This means that I had to attempt to herd 6 cats into the bedroom, without the others escaping. Considering they were already skittish due to the storm, this was not an easy task. Furthermore, they balked at entering the bedroom because they *know* they're not allowed in there. Unfortunately, it's the only room I can seal off from the living room, where the fireplace is, so that's where they have to be. I don't even want to think about what my bedroom will look like when I get home today.

In the end, I got all of the cats except Siobhán and Finnegan - both of whom hid under the couch and refused to come out, even for tuna. I can only hope that they'll head back under the couch when the folks come to check the chimney and stay there. Which is actually a pretty good bet, since neither of them like strangers much.

Of course, what I *really* want to do right now is go home and take a nap, which I can't do for the following reasons:

1) I really shouldn't take the time off. I have the leave, but I'd like to build some up and not use it as soon as I get it.
2) I have a desk shift at 2pm that I'd have to get someone to cover if I went home.
3) Even if I *did* go home, I have no way of knowing if the chimney folk have already been there, or if not, when they will be coming. Inspections were to be conducted between 8am and 6pm, so any time in between is fair game. Which means I can't let the cats out until 6pm at the earliest, and even assuming my bedroom is not destroyed, four cats confined to the bedroom is not conducive for nap-taking.

Ergo, I must remain at work and not nap. This makes me very sad :-(
gwynhefar: (Finnegan)
gwynhefar: (four things)
Came home today and all the cats were watching the wall intently. So I looked, and at first I thought it was a *huge* bug, but turns out it was a small gecko. With judicious use of a broom, my cupped palm, and a paper bookmark, I was eventually able to catch him without the cats getting their teeth into him and let him go outside.

This is the third time I've found a gecko in the apartment. The first time Finnegan got a snack, but these past two times I've been able to rescue the poor creature. I still find it a little strange that I live in a place where finding a *gecko* in the house is not that unusual.


Oct. 6th, 2008 07:10 pm
gwynhefar: (Default)
Ok, so I got my camera fixed. That means you get pictures!!

So click:

Cats -- more recent pics at the bottom.



Mama Quilla (a local stray) and our friendly neighbourhood raccoon, Ralph.
gwynhefar: (Fiona)
Per [livejournal.com profile] whitecrow0's request, this is to let you know that the kitties came through the storm just fine. They freaked a little with all the winds, and mostly hid under furniture, except for Fiona, who kept following me around and begging to be held and trembling. Poor thing was traumatized. But she's back to her cheerful self now, and I think they like having me home most of the time lately. I think they're dealing with the lack of air conditioning better than I am, and they have plenty of food and fresh water. So they're good :)

Oh my . . .

Aug. 7th, 2008 02:13 pm
gwynhefar: (Ciara)
I got this from [livejournal.com profile] harkalark

Cats Carrying Fish

It's long, but totally worth it!
gwynhefar: (Fiona)
So I'm here at work today, and one of my co-workers shows up with a kitten! She found it on her car this morning and she can't even take it in the house cause she's got dogs who would eat it so she found out I was working today and brought him to me.


He's about 4-6 weeks, very friendly, clearly socialised, purrs up a storm, and he is *not* staying. I leave for ALA on the 27th and if I don't find him a home by then, he's getting dropped off on my vet's doorstep.

Anyone want a kitten?
gwynhefar: (Fionnuala)
Fionnuala has developed a taste for iPod earbuds. She's destroyed 3 in as many days.

The first pair I left sprawled on the coffee table. When I found her chewing on that pair, I was annoyed, but admitted that it was probably my fault, as the thin wires look enough like a string toy as to be sufficiently irresistible, and I should have known better. So I went out and bought another pair.

The second pair I left tightly curled up and tied with the iPod on the endtable. The next morning, that pair was in pieces as well. Now I was really annoyed. So I had to go out and buy a third pair.

The third pair I curled up and tied and put away in my purse. She *dug them out*, chewed them up, and left the pieces in front of my bedroom door.

She's so totally dead.

Now I'm on my 4th pair, and I'm not sure where I'm going to put this pair when I'm not using it, as my purse doesn't have any zipper pockets. Although I wouldn't put it past her to figure out how to open zipper pockets even if I had one.

She doesn't go after any of the other electronic wires behind the TV or computer. Just the earbuds. Oh, and plastic grocery bags. Mustn't forget the plastic grocery bags she keeps digging up out of the trash or the bag bag, chews up, and leaves the pieces all over the floor. Damn cat's going to choke to death on something one of these days.
gwynhefar: (Finnegan)
Finnegan is lying next to me with his upper body draped across mine, his head on my chest, fast asleep. He's pinning my right hand to my side, so I have to type this one handed, but I don't mind. The fact that an animal, a predator, particularly one who spent the first 3 months of his life on the street, trusts me enough to do this is nothing short of awe-inspiring.
gwynhefar: (Fiona)
So yesterday, I see Fiona staring intently a what appears to be a blank stretch of bathroom floor. I take a closer look, and realise she's happened upon one of those tiny little spider-like bug things that are about the size of a period/full stop and just tend to show up every now and then. Cats with bugs can be quite amusing, and since the presence of the tiny critter doesn't bother me too much, I settle down to watch.

She circles it for awhile. Bats at it with her paw. And then she leans in to get a good sniff. Unfortunately, she gets a little too close and ends up with it on her nose. She rears back and thus commences the most amusing little panicked cat dance as the poor frightened thing crawls all over her face trying to get away and she ends up attempting catch it with her tongue.

I'm still not sure if she ever got it or if it just fell off :)


gwynhefar: (Default)

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