aDRESSing a few concerns

So what the heck -- a blog post twice in one week?!?

Hey, a cat's gotta make good on the promise to post about things that don't bite....and I had an extra nap today while "she" worked on moving things around in the trailers.  Just watching her wore me out! I'm telling you, sometimes my life is just pure exhaustion!

And then add to that a recent concern I've expressed.  One that I've been on "her" tail about.

As in how about some better pictures?!?

I mean c'mon admit it...."her" pictures.....

well....if you've been with me prior to this post.....perhaps you've noticed too....well......they suck. 

There I said it.

And nothing fell on my tail. 

Accidently or otherwise.

So last night I ate "her" ice cream. Yep, licked the bowl dry before the spoon was even out of the drawer. Obviously, I didn't need a spoon to eat "her" ice cream.  But the fact that "she" needed a spoon....well it gave me just enough time to plow through it like the road crew on the first day of snow!

So when "she" turned around, I did what any cat (or sensible dog) would do.

I *burped* and then proceeded to tell her I would gladly sacrifice myself and do it again if "she" didn't start producing some better quality photos.  I mean c'mon even my charm won't make up for a blog with sucky photos.

So my ice cream tactic worked.  Well sort of. 

Quality? Um. Maybe. Better.

If nothing else they will serve as proof when I send her off for "assistance".  I mean you gotta know someone with this many vnitage clothes surely needs help of some sort.

Remember the tutu I modeled some time back?!? I mean c'mon you gotta admit that is NOT normal behavior.  And I think I was traumatized.  I mean my hind end must have itched for thirty minutes after I chewed that thing off!

And now this.  Look at all these child's clothes, will ya?!  And this is only a fraction of all of them.  Heck, "she" probably has enough to cloth all the children in your city!

Yes, this is a child's wardrobe, armoire or whatever you want to call it.  I call it, the closet of horrors.  There are wayyyyyyy too many dresses in there for my liking.  Sometimes, when I'm laying in the studio I could swear I hear them taunting me.  As if that dress form isn't enough to make my fur stand on end. Seriously.  If that door ever opens on it's own, I am so OUT OF HERE!

And those boots?! Yeah, like I haven't read Puss In Boots.

And like "she" isn't always admiring my rear chops a few too many times.  Seriously, do you have pictures of your dog or cats back end? No, didn't think so.

I'm telling you, "she" is certainly sizing up my rear end and making plans for those boots!

So I'm working on a plan to foil "her" dress-up-the-Romeo plans.  I just haven't figured out what it is yet.  But when I do....well let's just say that I am in no way gonna get caught in some dress.  Or boots.  Or anything of the sorts.  Even if it is old and stylish.  I'll keep my look natural, thank you very much! 

Anyone need vintage child's dresses for their dog?  You know, as a chew toy for the coming Holiday Season.....

I purrfur my imagination...

Some people hear voices.

Some see invisible people.

Others have no imagination whatsoever.

Me? Well let’s just say around here, my imagination is much tamer than reality.  

My imagination had decided to do a post on vintage finds.  For those of you who follow me, may have noticed that I try to post about my siblings, myself, "her", junk and adventures.  It was time to post about junk. 

But about that time the bus of reality ran over my imagination and squashed it. Flat.


That was three weeks ago.

Gone a while as a result of reality.  You know, that time when “real” things happen.  Totally stinky skunk stuff.  Really.

Well maybe.

Not all of it.

“She” did get to go to a couple of auctions and found some really neat things.  But of course reality isn’t always fun and good times.

Sometimes.

Some of it totally bites.

Take for instance a routine trip to Wendy’s Hamburgers.  I get loaded in the car for a quick trip to the burger place.  Yeah, I know it’s just a bribe to get me to ride with her.  But it works.  I mean who’s going to pass up a chance to have a bite or two of a burger?  Fresh.  

See my point? 

Quick car ride = burger and fries.

I’m there!

But while we are sitting in the drive through it becomes evident that we are not the only ones there.

And I’m not talking about the other people in their cars waiting in line.

Nope. 

There are four or five other cars and occupants. AND an injured bird.

Somewhere close by. Screaming. LOUD.

But not at the order sign.

Order placed. Bird still screaming. Still LOUD.

Moving up in line.

Bird still screaming but getting hoarse.

Moving up in line.

Getting closer.

Bird begins to sound strained.

“She” is next to pay.

Looks out the window and the bird is not a bird.

It’s a small, very small….

Kitten.

Reality: no one else stopped to help this kitten. 

Reality: someone picked up their burger and dumped their kitten. (There were no other cats or kittens and the nearest house was more than a mile away).

Reality: Number one combo meal now comes with burger, fries, large drink and a kitten.

A very hungry kitten.  (At least she shared the burger.)

Five and a half weeks old.

With a tail broken in three places.

Ears infested with mites.

One pound, six ounces.

Of reality.

It bites.

Probably only because she’s teething.

Then there was Grammie's surgery.  And an Uncle's open heart surgery. Preparation for and the opening of a new Tattered Cat location. 

Preparation for and the Christmas Open House at Antiques in Old Town (thank you to all who came - reality purred at that one). Two sick kitties. And oh yes.....

Bees.

Did you know that bees can become very aggressive when protecting their winter honey stores?

Yeah, “she” didn’t know that either.

I did.

That’s why I wasn’t the one that got stung on the face.

Several times.

Reality: It waited to swell up. On the evening of the Open House at Antiques in Old Town. How attractive. How UNcomfortable.

Reality: Could not attend the second day of the Open House because Benedryl was not enough to de-puff face.  Doctor and medicine necessary. 

Reality: Cortisone injections into hind end bite.

Gramps got stung on the arms. (He was smart enough to have the veil on.)

But to make up for the missed facial attack, those pissed off bees came after him twice. I think he got stung seven or eight times.

There’s some more reality for you. Pretty interesting stuff until it decides to get “real” and bite ya.  Honey anyone?

I could tell you more but hey, if I scare you too much, you’ll be  hiding in the closet and might not come out to read all those cool blog posts.  You know the ones were everyone is creating their own reality.  While others are even "real" AND living through it.  Now those are the blogs to watch.  You’ll learn a lot from them.  So stay out of the closet. Not everything bites.

Except maybe the combo number one at Wendy’s and bees protecting winter stores….

Later.....the kind of stuff that doesn't bite.....