Tag Archives: cat

Our Fearless Cat


Chris has always been an unusual cat, which is why I thought he would be a good subject for a blog. One thing that makes Chris different from most cats is his fearlessness. You may remember posts about his indifference to the vacuum, or the post about him watching fireworks with us.

Last week my wife told me about something that happened while I was at work. She said one of those bucket trucks pulled up and a man got in the bucket and proceeded to trim the palm tree next to our house.

The noise freaked out Floki and Frankie, who came running into the house from the Florida room. They were both very nervous as they listened to the noise coming from outside. But Rose did not see Chris so she got up to check on him and was surprised by what she saw.

Chris was sitting on top of his crate, less than ten feet from the tree, watching the man trim the palm fronds.

If someone else has a cat like Chris, I would love to hear about it.

Lazy Cat Chris


Chris is no longer the adventurous, trouble seeking cat he used to be. Now he just causes trouble whenever he can do so with little to no effort. For example, I noticed recently one of the food bowls is often turned over on its side. I know Chris was doing it but never actually caught him in the act. He has become so lazy that he can’t even stand up to eat his food. He tips the bowl over and eats while lying down.

While I was at work yesterday my wife sent me the following photos from the scene of the crime, where the culprit was caught on camera.

I guess I need to put up a sign that says, “No tipping, please.”

Freddy the Office Cat


I brought Floki to the vet this morning to get his nails trimmed. The vet’s office has a one-year-old tabby cat named Freddy. He was the inspiration for me to buy a window bird feeder after watching him react to the window bird feeder at the vet’s office during a previous visit.

As Floki and I were waiting for our turn, Freddie jumped on the counter from the back area and then jumped down into the waiting room. We were the only ones waiting at the time and Freddy was very interested in meeting Floki.

There was no hissing or growling. Freddy was just being friendly and Floki was pretending that he couldn’t see Freddy. He kept looking the other way.

I think Freddy recognized the snub and decided to just lie down nearby.

Someone came then to get Floki and bumped Freddy with the door as she tried to get into the waiting room.

While I waited for Floki, Freddy played with me. He would grab my arm with both paws and bite me. They were friendly bites and I didn’t pay much attention to them at first but then noticed my wrist was bleeding. I considered asking for something to clean it with but then thought better of it. I didn’t want Freddy to get banned from the waiting room.

After a short time, he settled down on top of the scale, where his weight fluctuated between 13.8 and 14 pounds. That seemed a little hefty for a one-year-old but it didn’t seem to impede his jumping ability. Maybe his judgment was off a little, though, because he then jumped back on the counter like a bull in a china shop, knocking things over along the way.

Just then the vet tech came back with Floki and I paid my bill. While I was at the counter, I noticed a sign with Freddy’s picture on it. The sign read, “I like to play with my teeth. Pet me at your own risk.”

Frankie Gets Burned


Yesterday morning, I just finished boiling water for the tea I was going to use in my homemade kombucha. I moved the pan off the burner and turned to open the tea bags when I heard a noise behind me. The thought of Frankie jumping on the stove entered my mind and I immediately turned around to see Frankie walking away, holding one paw up as if he was in pain. I tried to look at his paw but he ran away and hid in the cat tree box.

I didn’t want to traumatize him more by pulling him out so I waited. After five minutes he was out so I picked him up and asked Rose to check his paws while I held him. Fortunately, she didn’t see anything wrong but I thought a burn might show up later so I made a note in my head to check him that evening.

When I put him down he went out to the dining room and jumped on the table. There he held his paw up like there was a problem.

Rose blamed me for allowing Frankie to get on the kitchen counters. I blame Chris because, after years of struggling to keep him off the counters, he wore me down until I gave up trying.

I can’t really blame Chris, though, because I really need to be more forceful about discouraging Frankie from jumping on the counters, especially near the stove. This is the second time this has happened and I don’t want there to be a third. I think I assumed the first time would have been a lesson for him but apparently not.

Yesterday evening Rose checked his paws again and still saw nothing so Frankie got lucky. This time.