Crafty little devil

Sometimes I do very smart things.

I got a new couch. Of course it quickly became The Little Bastard's favorite thing to scratch.

I also have a spiral staircase in my kitchen. So. What's that got to do with anything? Well. I did some research and found cat scratch rope is called sisal (and it's made from cactus!). So, I found a spool of sisal at the hardware store. And I wrapped the spindle of the spiral staircase with the sisal. Making it into a cat scratching post!

The Little Bastard loves it!
And he's clearly accepted it belongs to him.

Now this is seriously cute. Cute counts for a lot.
Oh he still claws the new couch too but nowhere near like he used to.

And stay off!

I've been chasing The Little Bastard off the table for years. Four years...to be exact. He's not stupid. Quite the contrary. He just doesn't care!

Get off the table!
And then there's the counter. Unfortunately watching pots simmer is one of his favorite things to do!

And *get* down off the counter!
And then there's the day he found my bag of bags. What. Doesn't everyone have a bag of bags?

Jackopot! This was tons of fun!
It's a good thing he's so cute. Seriously. How cute is this?!

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.....zzzzzzzz...zzzzzzzzzzzzz....

Raised by dogs?

My cat. When he sees me grab my shoes he runs to the door. Trying to block my exit.

But it wasn't until he was playing with his tennis ball I realized he had to have been raised by dogs...

Really. What kind of cat plays with tennis balls?!

My basil!

I *love* basil. I have a window box in my living room window full of basil. Between Margherita pizza and Bruschetta and Caprese salad and pesto not to mention sandwiches...I just *love* basil. I grow basil in pots all year long but it's especially prolific in the summertime. So...I have this window box in my living room window and my basil just isn't doing well. I don't know why. It's all laying down flat, wilted and dying. I mean really, basil is easy...it's like a weed. Grows like crazy.

There's no evidence of the (stupid) cat messing with it and ...well...I got it. I glance over the other day and...

The little bastard
That's why my basil hasn't been doing well! So I booby trapped it! I stuck a bunch of bamboo skewers in the window box and hardly a day later? My basil looks a *lot* better!

---

Basil marinara:

I got this recipe off the web a few years ago.  It's supposedly a genuine Tuscan recipe.

Sauté a yellow onion in olive oil.  Add a 28 oz. can of ground peeled tomatoes.  Simmer that for 15 minutes.  Resist all temptation to add garlic or anchovies.  Take it off the heat and mix in like a cup of whole basil leaves. And a splash of extra virgin olive oil.  Serve that with some pasta.  I like thin spaghetti.  The idea is to have a nice whole wilted basil leaf in every bit of pasta.

*Insanely* good.  Light and bright and refreshing.  Of course Chianti or Toscana is the *perfect* pairing.

Edited to add:  I also include a pinch of red pepper flakes in my marinara.

Edited to add:  Found a picture!  Now how good does this look!

Then and Now...

This just cracks me up. This is Weebil. He has a problem and he wobbles a little bit so ... naturally, his name is Weebil. Or more affectionately, Weebs.

December 2014
One can plainly see. He's *huge*.

Well...here he is when he first came to the barn as a captured feral..

August 2005
And, just to help put it in perspective...

He was smaller than a tennis ball!

Mad Face!

Sitting on the couch can be a little chilly this time of year. Sometimes I cross my arms and tuck my cold fingers underneath. And Oliver just can't help himself. He sees my fingertips peak out from under my armpits and sinks his claws in them. I spin around and scream "NO! BAD CAT! BAD CAT!" and what do I get?

The Mad Face
I swear if the Little Bastard wasn't so funny I'd send him packing.

But then I just might miss my...constant companion.

Here we are counting change from the mason jar
And here we are doing dishes at the sink...

What? I'm in the way?
He has *tons* of personality. As soon as I put on my shoes and coat he runs and lies down at the door...

No you can't leave!
He's cute as can be and he goes all dead weight. Make no mistake. Pick him up and he's all claws and teeth. I kind of have to work him away from the door with my shoe. Or barn bag. You'd think he'd be happy to be rid of me. I spend most of the time chasing him around yelling "YOU LITTLE BASTARD" while spraying him with a squirt bottle.

But every once in a while he's rather sweet. And he is getting fatter and lazier all the time. He's over 2 years old now. It will be so nice when he's sleeping 22 hours a day!

The names we earn

We have the names we give. L, for example. And my paint mare G. And..Oliver. He's been here 6 months now and the name he's earned? TLB. The Little Bastard. I *know* why he got dropped off in the driveway! He's broken almost everything in the house that's breakable. I've come home to find pictures taken down off the walls. I've had to fashion catproof latches from coat hangers for closet doors. After coming home one day and finding an entire closet emptied with its contents scattered all over the house. And then there's the afternoon I found my Rolex in the toilet! I feel I'm being watched. Then I hear a tiny little tinkle sound. He's on top of the kitchen cabinet behind the stem glass rack waiting to pounce. What ever possessed me to bring home a kitten?!

The Little Bastard
He's a pretty cat. And he was two things going for him. I'm tolerant. And he's funny. Funny counts for a lot.

For a few weeks he'd pop out from behind things, stand on his hind legs and wave his paws in the air with a ferocious look on his face. And often times he'll walk by, stop, come back, slap the back your leg and pound off like he's satisfied he just made some kind point.

I read that using empty cans is a good way to discourage your cat from going where he's not supposed to go. You put some empty cans on a table top. Cat jumps up, knocks over cans, gets scared and runs away. Doesn't go back. Well that's how it's supposed to work. Here in my house I just have a cat chasing cans around the house in the middle of the night.

I really think he's going to be a great fat old lazy cat. If he survives kittenhood...

Edited to add:

For a long time L's name around the barn was "Cuckoo Brain". She earned that. I remember warming L up on the ground at a show some years ago and someone watching said to me "so...do you...ride that horse?". Very funny. Although it really is fair to say she was quite the handful for a while there.

L outgrew that. Thankfully. Well. Mostly. She'll still break a cross tie now and then if you let her. We still call her Cuckoo Brain sometimes. Affectionately.

And G? We still call her "Psycho G". She won't outgrow that. She would have by now if she was going to!

Strange email

If you get a strange email from me...

I swear I didn't send it!
What's this thing about cats squatting on your stuff?!