Holy cow, Edgar's been clingy lately! He's sleeping at the moment, but bejeezus that cat has been whining and pining after me for the last two days! You know, if I didn't love him I might be persuaded to strangle him at moments.
We went to a little pet shop the other day, just to look at the puppies in the window (yes, they still do that). CUTE! We have pictures, but have currently misplaced our camera. We've looked all over for it, but no luck as of yet.
Anyway, there were several Dachshund puppies in all sorts of colors, cutest little things. I was going to get Edgar a new cat toy, but he already has a million little catnip mice that he chases up and down the stairs. Only one of them is on the verge of being thrown out because all the stuffing is starting to come out.
That's all for right now! As soon as Edgar does something hilarious I'll be sure to tell you about it, but as of right now he's been disturbingly mellow. Only one foot attack last night, I was stunned.
2/25/10
2/12/10
Still sick!
Edgar hasn't been doing anything particularly interesting of late, of course I've been glued to my sickbed most days. I am pretty sure I've got a sinus infection. Blech.
Did some reading while I've been down though, Jurassic Park was a fun read, made me want to watch the movie though. Edgar's been sleeping at my feet and trying to make me feel better with fish breathy kisses. He seems to have backed off on his mutinous ways lately.
Though yesterday he loudly demanded to be held, and I did so for about ten minutes before my arm got tired and I made my boyfriend take over. Edgar put up with that for about five seconds before leaping out of my boyfriend's arms and running after me while I tried to go to the bathroom. Which, I might add, is only that much more difficult when Edgar is trying to climb on you.
I promise I'll try and write another post tomorrow and maybe add a picture. Tah tah for now.
Did some reading while I've been down though, Jurassic Park was a fun read, made me want to watch the movie though. Edgar's been sleeping at my feet and trying to make me feel better with fish breathy kisses. He seems to have backed off on his mutinous ways lately.
Though yesterday he loudly demanded to be held, and I did so for about ten minutes before my arm got tired and I made my boyfriend take over. Edgar put up with that for about five seconds before leaping out of my boyfriend's arms and running after me while I tried to go to the bathroom. Which, I might add, is only that much more difficult when Edgar is trying to climb on you.
I promise I'll try and write another post tomorrow and maybe add a picture. Tah tah for now.
1/31/10
Poor nameless slob...
We watched Breakfast At Tiffany's today, and Cat reminded me very much of Edgar with the whole jumping onto your shoulders thing. That's such a classic movie, love it.
Been a little bit busy lately, and sick! Blah! But I promise to update more often, even if Edgar doesn't give me any funny stories, I will at least post some pictures or something humorous I found on the internet.
Edgar's newest fad is sleeping in the bathtub, I'll try and get a picture of this soon. He's a quick little bugger, and I often lose my photo opp's before I can reach a camera. Anyway, here is a quick little picture to tide you over:
Awwww!
Been a little bit busy lately, and sick! Blah! But I promise to update more often, even if Edgar doesn't give me any funny stories, I will at least post some pictures or something humorous I found on the internet.
Edgar's newest fad is sleeping in the bathtub, I'll try and get a picture of this soon. He's a quick little bugger, and I often lose my photo opp's before I can reach a camera. Anyway, here is a quick little picture to tide you over:
Awwww!
1/26/10
Morning Mayhem
My boyfriend had a side job this morning, and thus left me behind to snooze warmly in my bed while he went off to sweat and slave for a couple dollars. I was having a very comfortable snooze, when Edgar came onto the scene to crash the party.
He bounced back and forth from window to window, hollering at the top of his lungs in an all out effort to rouse me... and it worked admirably I might add. Now awake and more than a little annoyed, I trudged around the room trying to find the source of Edgar's distress - and found nothing.
Hands thrown up in frustrated defeat, I went downstairs to the bathroom. The subsequent pattering of cat feet followed immediately, and Edgar came sprawling into the bathroom before I could close the door. Too groggy to care, I began to take care of my morning toiletries - and was interrupted every five seconds by the intrusion of cold cat nose, whining cries, the touch of a furry body rubbing on me fervently and without any sort of shame whatsoever.
He had food in his bowl, and fresh water readily at hand, and the litter was clean, so I was at a loss entirely as to what could possibly be the matter with my deranged feline. I even resorted to petting and coddling for several minutes, which was met with stellar approval. But, the day must go on, and I was forced to go upstairs, get dressed, and come back down for some coffee and toast.
I, of course, was wary coming down the stairs as I usually am... for lurking in the darkness was the devil himself, and I cautiously peered into Edgar's favorite hiding spot. I found him crouched low in a pouncing position, thus I knew I was about ready to scream and/or run for my life. POUNCE! He lunged at my face like a striking cobra and I flailed, ducking and covering my face in desperation.
When I peered through the cracks of my fingers Edgar was calmly staring at me as if I were the crazy one, and not the psychopath who had just tried to latch onto my head like Velcro.
How was your morning?
He bounced back and forth from window to window, hollering at the top of his lungs in an all out effort to rouse me... and it worked admirably I might add. Now awake and more than a little annoyed, I trudged around the room trying to find the source of Edgar's distress - and found nothing.
Hands thrown up in frustrated defeat, I went downstairs to the bathroom. The subsequent pattering of cat feet followed immediately, and Edgar came sprawling into the bathroom before I could close the door. Too groggy to care, I began to take care of my morning toiletries - and was interrupted every five seconds by the intrusion of cold cat nose, whining cries, the touch of a furry body rubbing on me fervently and without any sort of shame whatsoever.
He had food in his bowl, and fresh water readily at hand, and the litter was clean, so I was at a loss entirely as to what could possibly be the matter with my deranged feline. I even resorted to petting and coddling for several minutes, which was met with stellar approval. But, the day must go on, and I was forced to go upstairs, get dressed, and come back down for some coffee and toast.
I, of course, was wary coming down the stairs as I usually am... for lurking in the darkness was the devil himself, and I cautiously peered into Edgar's favorite hiding spot. I found him crouched low in a pouncing position, thus I knew I was about ready to scream and/or run for my life. POUNCE! He lunged at my face like a striking cobra and I flailed, ducking and covering my face in desperation.
When I peered through the cracks of my fingers Edgar was calmly staring at me as if I were the crazy one, and not the psychopath who had just tried to latch onto my head like Velcro.
How was your morning?
1/25/10
The Pizza Box.
That is Edgar's Pizza Box. The pizza no longer remains, but the box does... and I'll tell you why.That window seat is usually Edgar's favorite spot to lay down, and he usually makes use of it throughout most of the afternoon. One day we ordered a medium pizza, ate it, and left the box on the window seat for about fifteen minutes while we attended to other matters. In typical Edgar fashion he claimed the box as his own, and by the time we came back upstairs to toss it out, he wasn't about to let us do it.
That was about a month ago, and the box is still there. I wasn't brave enough to take it from him, and neither was my boyfriend. I am sure we will throw it out eventually, but I am willing to bet if there isn't a replacement bed or pillow in that box's place, we're in for a world of hurt...
One of the many joys..
I will now regale you with a tale of Edgar.
This is a classic tale, one of the first moments I realized how incredibly fantastic he was – and how flippin’ insane.
Edgar likes plastic bags. Edgar especially likes plastic bags which contain groceries yet to be put in the pantry. After a trip to the grocery, my boyfriend and I put away all the perishables, but too exhausted from the day’s travails, left a few things on the kitchen table to be put away later on in the morning. We collapsed, worn out, abused, and in need of some Z’s, into our bed.
I dreamt of something pleasant, something whimsical and carefree, one of those ‘If I wake up right now someone will die’ sorts of dreams, which are always preferable to reality. I was warm, comfortable, and getting some much needed R & R.
The rustling awoke us at 3 a.m.
We lived in a studio apartment at the time, so you can hear everything going on everywhere in the whole place. We propped our eyes open sleepily, not sure what was going on and quite ready to go back to sleep. There was a sudden thud. And all hell broke loose.
A whooshing sound bolted around the room like a ping pong ball, swushing and swishing all around us in a series of thwapping that shot back and forth, beneath the bed, into the kitchen, into the living room, and back again. We scrambled for the bedside light, illuminating the room in a sudden flash of brilliant light.
When I finally saw him, my jaw dropped.
There he was, our ridiculous little cat, eyes wide as saucers, fur standing on end, running as fast as his legs could possibly carry him back and forth in our apartment. And trailing behind him, stuck to his foot, was a plastic bag, filled with the whooshing air puffed up behind him. I hollered and jumped out of bed, my boyfriend right behind me.
“What do we do!?” I frantically screamed, my boyfriend’s equally panicked voice answering back that he hadn’t the faintest idea.
In a mad dashed effort to escape the white demon behind him, Edgar ran over my boyfriend’s foot, and I tried to grab him, but he was too quick. Meanwhile, my boyfriend was clutching his gushing foot, now slashed deeply from panicked cat claws and cursing up a blue streak. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so I settled for dismay instead.
All of a sudden everything grew quiet.
I dropped down to my knees and peered beneath the bed, moving the bed-skirt very carefully so as not to spook him. And there he was, huddled by my bedside corner with his eyes so wide I thought they were now possibly capable of X-Ray vision. Very carefully I reached for him, and just like that I untangled his leg, with absolutely no struggles from the tortured feline whatsoever.
It was only after we bandaged my boyfriend’s foot that I started laughing. And I couldn’t stop. Remembering the sight of Edgar running around the room with a plastic bag riding his haunches was just too damned funny to forget.
This is a classic tale, one of the first moments I realized how incredibly fantastic he was – and how flippin’ insane.
Edgar likes plastic bags. Edgar especially likes plastic bags which contain groceries yet to be put in the pantry. After a trip to the grocery, my boyfriend and I put away all the perishables, but too exhausted from the day’s travails, left a few things on the kitchen table to be put away later on in the morning. We collapsed, worn out, abused, and in need of some Z’s, into our bed.
I dreamt of something pleasant, something whimsical and carefree, one of those ‘If I wake up right now someone will die’ sorts of dreams, which are always preferable to reality. I was warm, comfortable, and getting some much needed R & R.
The rustling awoke us at 3 a.m.
We lived in a studio apartment at the time, so you can hear everything going on everywhere in the whole place. We propped our eyes open sleepily, not sure what was going on and quite ready to go back to sleep. There was a sudden thud. And all hell broke loose.
A whooshing sound bolted around the room like a ping pong ball, swushing and swishing all around us in a series of thwapping that shot back and forth, beneath the bed, into the kitchen, into the living room, and back again. We scrambled for the bedside light, illuminating the room in a sudden flash of brilliant light.
When I finally saw him, my jaw dropped.
There he was, our ridiculous little cat, eyes wide as saucers, fur standing on end, running as fast as his legs could possibly carry him back and forth in our apartment. And trailing behind him, stuck to his foot, was a plastic bag, filled with the whooshing air puffed up behind him. I hollered and jumped out of bed, my boyfriend right behind me.
“What do we do!?” I frantically screamed, my boyfriend’s equally panicked voice answering back that he hadn’t the faintest idea.
In a mad dashed effort to escape the white demon behind him, Edgar ran over my boyfriend’s foot, and I tried to grab him, but he was too quick. Meanwhile, my boyfriend was clutching his gushing foot, now slashed deeply from panicked cat claws and cursing up a blue streak. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so I settled for dismay instead.
All of a sudden everything grew quiet.
I dropped down to my knees and peered beneath the bed, moving the bed-skirt very carefully so as not to spook him. And there he was, huddled by my bedside corner with his eyes so wide I thought they were now possibly capable of X-Ray vision. Very carefully I reached for him, and just like that I untangled his leg, with absolutely no struggles from the tortured feline whatsoever.
It was only after we bandaged my boyfriend’s foot that I started laughing. And I couldn’t stop. Remembering the sight of Edgar running around the room with a plastic bag riding his haunches was just too damned funny to forget.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
