Another Unwelcome Visitor

One recent afternoon I was cuddling with Des on the couch as he drank his milk from a sippy cup, still groggy from his nap. When I heard something in the back... Neely in his cat box, maybe. Nah, it was different than that. Not so much scratching, but scurrying. Oh god. It was definitely scurrying, frantic and desperate.

"Tony! Neely's doing something."

That old familiar sound. There was a hunt in the house. Whether it was successful or not I would not know, because if you haven't learned by now, my eyes shut tight as soon as I recognize what's going on.

Tony quickly made his way to the back room as Des and I waited impatiently on the couch, our feet up off the floor. I was a little more used to this now, so I wasn't heading for zee hillz just yet. I knew the drill.

But then Tony came back sooner than expected, empty hands and an odd look on his face.

"Umm...."

"Oh god, what is it? Is something dead? Loose in the house? WHAT??"

"It's a bird."

"..."

"There's a bird in the closet. You guys should go upstairs."

WTF?

I grabbed Des and ran him upstairs. Of course there's a bird! Because if there's anything I hate worse than a mouse in my home, it's a goddamn bird ready to flap its wings in my hair and peck my eyes out and poop down my neck. I could think of only one thing worse (starts with B, ends with AT), and lemme just do the sign of the cross right now, because if that ever happens this house just might implode Poltergeist-style.

We waited it out in the bedroom. Who knows how long this would be. I knew Tony didn't have much of a plan. Why would he? Who prepares for this?

About 5 minutes later, Tony hollered upstairs, "It's okay now." I hesitantly opened our bedroom door to see Tony with the hood of his sweatshirt cinched tight around his face, wearing mismatched gloves and carrying a broom. My hero!

He walked me through what he did to get the thing out. To sum up, he pretty much just opened the back door and the bird flew out. My hubby has mad skills yo. He did manage to get a photo of that sucker, hiding out in the unfinished ceiling of our back room closet:



I know it's a little Sasquatch-esque, but do you see the profile? Way in the back? And the curtain to the left was what Neely was attempting to climb with his claws in order to get to it.

That bird is lucky it has wings.

Never a Dull Moment

Before the whole Sleep Strike 2011 began, we had another eventful evening recently.



In the middle of the night, Tony and I were abruptly awakened by Neely. It was not unusual that he was in our room, as he is free to come and go as he pleases. But we typically can't hear him. He is a dainty fellow, light on his feet and silent. You can't hear him coming unless he lets out one of his soft little "mew"s.

So a muffled "MREWEOW" followed by the raucous scatter of kitty claws all over the wood floor was a bit of a shock at 1am. We both shot up in bed, trying to figure out what was going on. Were we dreaming? Is it the baby monitor? Tony turned on the light.

Thinking back to Neely's recent conquest and not seeing where he was, I said, "Is there a mouse?"

:squeek squeek:

Uhh... YES THERE'S A FRIGGIN MOUSE OMGEEE.

I stood up in the center of the bed and hugged a pillow to my face. I didn't want to see it or hear it or know of it's existence. LA LA LA I'm not here right now! Tony jumped down to scope out the situation. Neely, in stealth kitty hunter mode, had the intruder cornered under a radiator vent.

"CAN I GET TO THE DOOR?" I whisper-yelled to Tony.

"Yes, go now!"

I booked it to the bathroom, shut the door, and stood on the toilet. You can never be too safe.

I heard some further scerfuffle in the bedroom... kitty scatter, "Neely, move!" :squeek:... and then finally :CLAP!:

...

"It's okay to come out now."

Tony had caught the mouse in a wooden box. Neely eyeballed the box and followed him like he was holding a juicy steak. Tony took the mouse outside... to the car and then drove it to a lovely farm where it could roam free for the rest of his days. Not really. I don't ask questions. The mouse was out of the house, never to return (god please), and that's all that mattered.

We realized after some time to reflect, that Neely likely hadn't found the mouse in our room but had brought it up from downstairs. It was a gift, a gesture of thanks, and maybe a little trophy of his own.

Thanks Neel. I appreciate your mad skillz. But next time, can you get us a nice gift card to Applebees or something? Much love, cat.

Neely

This is Neely-cat. Named after a Boston sports legend, with the slick moves to prove it. Around 11 years old, featherweight, sweetheart.

Likes:
- Empty boxes.
- Ribbon, string, tinsel, or anything else that hangs all playful-like.
- Collecting and eating tumbleweeds of dust in the corners of rooms.
- Puking partially digested dust bunnies on laptop bags, couch cushions, curtains, and pretty much anything that cannot be easily cleaned or wiped down.

Dislikes:
- Being attacked or touched from behind. Brings back flashbacks of his early days in Nam (i.e. adjustment period with brother Loki-cat, RIP).
- Being ignored. To prevent this he will climb up on your face until his whiskers snake their way inside your nostrils.
- Toddlers learning to climb. :shudder:

Since Loki passed away in November, we've tried to pay special attention to Neely. There's never been a time in his life when he's been without another animal around. But he seems to be adjusting to the concept well. He's put on some weight (in a good way) and come out of his shell.

Having lost 2 pets (Barkley and Loki) in a matter of 1 year, it's an adjustment for us as well. And knowing how quickly the times passes, we want to be sure the precious time Neely has left is happy. So we've given him more freedom, allowed him to explore parts of the house he hasn't before, and even let him sleep with us at night.

The last part has been a challenge. He's fine throughout the night, sleeping soundly at our feet. Although for the first few nights if I had to get up to use the bathroom, I'd forget he was there and fling the covers off of me, sending Neely flying off the bed like Super Cat. Oops! Now I know to check for a snoozing kitty before getting out of bed.

But come 4am, I feel Neely start to creep up from the foot of the bed. He's a little cat, so it feels like his paws are fingers pressing on my legs, then my hips, chest, until he's all up in my grill, purring like a lawn mower in my ear. I'll put my arms up in an attempt to block him. I've even picked him up and placed him on top of Tony, who generally appreciates cats more than I do. (And who also manages to sleep through all of this business, of course.) But these defenses do nothing to thwart Neely-cat from his ultimate goal... Waking and choking me with his fur and love.

These early morning shenanigans have not subsided, nor has my frustration. But I'm trying to be a sport about it. He just needs some time. We all do, I guess.



But seriously? Go bother your father, cat!

Goodbye Loki

A picture of happier times

Our cat Loki passed away. It happened quickly, seeing as the original Loki post was written less than a month ago and we had no idea he was sick. But he was sick. And it wasn't that post that jinxed him, like Tony says. Stop making me feel guilty!

Maybe because we'd see him every day and didn't quite notice, it took a comment from my sister Janet to make us see.

"Whoa, Loki looks thin."

We looked at our kitty and then at eachother. Oh my god, he does look thin. Something's wrong. I'm not saying Loki was fat... okay, he was fat.. But this cat also had a presence about him. King Loki. Loki, the god of mischeif. He would puff his chest out and look down on the rest of us. His brother Neely would play with toys and Loki would turn his nose up like, "Really? Psh. When's dinner."

Our big, beefy Lokester was losing weight rapidly.

Tony's mom came over to look at him. She's the resident Cat Lady around these parts. Her initial thoughts were not good. She's been around a lot, A LOT of cats. So you have to take her word. Loki's an older cat and sometimes they just know when something's wrong. Loki knew, and he stopped eating. Finally he was too weak to go on and Tony took him in. He's at peace now.

There's something missing from the house. We all feel it. I feel the worst for Neely, Loki's brotha-from-anotha-motha. Now Neely's all by himself. So we've tried to pay some extra attention to him lately.



He's enjoying the attention. But I know he misses his brother.

RIP Loki. Be nice to Barkley up there.

Pic circa 2002

Loki

This is Loki-cat. Approximately 10 years old, pushing 20 pounds, and often misunderstood.

Likes:
- Lounging in freshly laundered clothes.
- Showing dominance over brother, Neely-cat, and most other living creatures.
- Baked goods.

Dislikes:
- Physical exertion.
- Gates, doors, and any other barrier from places that require investigating.
- Pet carriers. This panther cannot be caged. Rawr.

Unsure of:
- That tiny human. Or could be strange looking cat. Will keep safe distance until further notice.