Cats and Wine (Or Wine and Cats).

So two of my favorite things on this planet are (it’s not a trick question):

Cats and Wine. Or Wine and Cats. The order flip-flops any given hour, depending on my mood at that moment.

And sometimes, on that wonderful rare occasion, the two cross over. Like in this amazing magnet a friend gave me for Christmas this year:

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Yes. That would be my answer.

Or this Riesling, that I originally got because it had a picture of a cat on it, but wound up loving it, regardless of said cat label:

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Delicious, with or without cat.

I really do love this wine, and I recently purchased it again, because it has become one of my favorite go-to bottles. So, I was sitting at the table, enjoying my glass, when Captain Curious (aka “Berlioz”), jumped up to investigate. And by “investigate,” I mean eat whatever possible food he came across. There was no food this time, but I guess he, like his mama, is fond of Riesling. In fact, after sniffing the bottle and my glass, he decided that this wine was from this point on, his and his alone.

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Note the tail wrapped around the glass. 

Either that, or he’s just a little ham who wanted his picture taken….again.

 

Happy Mew Year!

Wednesday and Berlioz just want to wish everyone a Happy “Mew” Year! They’re both super pumped for 2019, and all the treats, catnip, naps, fetching, and hissing it will bring.

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Wednesday says, “Happy Mew Year!”

 

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Berlioz says, “Happy Mew Year!”

Truthfully, they were just begging for their breakfast, as if they hadn’t eaten in weeks. :-/

 

On the Nose.

So I was getting ready for work the other day, and as I washing my face, Berlioz jumped up on the sink, and tried to attack the water coming out of the faucet. He is obsessed with water, which is a little strange. We sometimes catch him pawing at the water in his water dish, and splashing it out onto himself and the floor, for no reason.

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The wonder of water.

Anyway, as I was washing my face, I leaned forward and my hair came cascading down (I have pretty long hair) right into Berlioz. He assumed this was meant to be played with, so he began attacking my hair. I found this charming at first, until all of a sudden, he swiped at my face, and his claws hit me, right on the – you guessed it – nose.

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Now I’ll never be a teen model.

Of course, he acted like he did nothing wrong, and I’m sure if given the chance, would do it all again.

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Sorry about your nose, mama (is not what he is thinking).

Hey, Jealousy.

Wednesday does not like to be picked up nearly as much as Berlioz, so when she decides she actually wants to be held, we drop everything and scoop her up immediately, making it a big celebration, worthy of the princess she is.

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All hail Princess Wednesday, ruler of the sofa.

Berlioz always wants attention no matter what, so it’s not such a big deal when we pick him up. But trust me, he gets plenty of affection, probably more than his share – he makes darn sure of that.

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You cannot make this bed until you pet me again.

Anyway, one day last week, Wednesday wanted to be held, so I jumped at the opportunity and picked her up. She was relaxed and purring, and we were having a nice quiet moment of quality time, when out of nowhere, Berlioz jumps up in a fit of jealousy, claws out in full force, and scratches me, down both sides of my stomach. I screamed, Wednesday freaked out and jumped away, and Berlioz stood there, staring, knowing full well what he had done. I was also bleeding, fyi.

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Scarred, physically and mentally.

It was a traumatic experience for all of us, except Berlioz of course, who’s jealous plan was ultimately victorious, in his eyes.

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Excellent….

Halloween Cats.

I’ve been dying for Halloween to arrive, so I could put the cats in their respective Halloween costumes (Wednesday – unicorn, Berlioz – bat). I’ve had the costumes planned out for months, and I knew this was going to be the best thing ever and they were going to love it, right?

RIGHT??

Because what cat doesn’t love getting shoved into a costume while it’s owners huddle around it, giggling and snapping photos?

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my pretty unicorn

 

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my adorable bat

They look thrilled and not at all like we snuck up on them while they were sleeping and forced the costumes on while they remained in a half-daze. Once they caught on, their reactions varied. Berlioz thought it was no big deal, and laid back down to go to sleep like nothing happened.

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this ain’t so bad.

Wednesday, on the other hand….

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i will destroy you for this.

At the end of the day, I got my cats into the costumes and got a couple of photos to preserve the memories, which was really all I ever wanted.

I’m pretty sure they’ve already forgotten about the entire thing.

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forgiven and forgotten.

Or….maybe not….

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plotting revenge.

I’m Only Sleeping.

Today I was off, and I was thinking about my day and what I was going to do. I had a list of things to get done (I actually did most of them!), and I was working my way through the list, when I sat down on the couch for a few minutes. Berlioz jumped up behind me and promptly went to sleep.

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He looks so well behaved when he’s sleeping.

I paused for a few extra minutes to sit with him, but then I had to get up and do other things, like run 8 miles. When I returned from running, I walked into the bedroom, and stumbled upon this:

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Sleeping ball of fur.

I showered and changed in preparation for my next errand, and walked downstairs, only to be greeted by this strangely familiar sight:

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wait…again??

I realized that I’m doing it totally wrong. These guys have the life right here. They’ve got it all figured out. Or so I thought.

I went back upstairs to put away some laundry, and Wednesday was still laying there in the same spot, doing the same thing (that would be sleeping). This time, Berlioz followed me up. He jumped on the bed, and for a split second, I thought he was going to lay down next to her and go to sleep for the third time, but alas, it went a little more like this:

I guess all that sleeping has its benefits – one can unleash those bad-ass wrestling moves at any time and without warning. 13+ hours of sleeping a day sure hones those cat-like reflexes.

The Breakfast Song.

I don’t know about you, but I often catch myself singing to my cats. It’s usually real songs that I change the words to the cats’ names or whatever activity they’re currently engaging in. Most of these songs I would never repeat outside of closed doors, as they are really really really dumb and make no sense.

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Because I’m still in love with mew
I want to see you meow again
Because I’m still in love with mew
On this kitty moon.

Besides my feline-filled tribute to Neil Young, there is one song that I find myself singing to the #catsquad every morning at breakfast time while I feed them.

Sung to the tune of Frère Jacques:

Who wants breakfast, who wants breakfast
Kitties do, kitties do
Everyone wants breakfast, everyone wants breakfast
Mew mew mew, mew mew mew….

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It’s true though – everyone does want breakfast. And now this song will also be stuck in your head for the rest of the day, just like it is in mine. You’re welcome.