A study in Thanksgiving Day Repose

I hope your Thanksgiving is as satisfying!

Observations of a cat, a booger, and a boy.

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Before I met Rich I lived in Kalamazoo. I owned my own house and was dating the boy next door. Well, technically it was the man across the street, but that isn't really what this story is about. This story is about his cat. It is also about boogers and my two-year old.

Cat, boogers, boy.

Right now you are asking yourself how these things can possibly be related. And if you are my husband, or my ex-boyfriend (who occasionally reads this blog - Hi ex-boyfriend!) you are really wondering how I'm going to tie all of this together considering the cat and the boy were separated by approximately eight years. (Boogers as we moms know are timeless.)

My boyfriend had an awesome cat named Huxley. He was a big old boy cat that liked to act all fierce and tiger-esq, but in reality was a big old wuss that didn't own his own front yard. That didn't bother me one bit though, because I loved that cat.

While his owner and I were dating we pretty much lived equally between our two houses.  Huxley got used to this dual residency and in the way that animals do, he always knew what house his owner and I were waking up in. If we were at my house you could count on Huxley being there either outside my back door, or under my bedroom window in the morning. If it was the weekend and he felt we were sleeping in too late, he made sure we heard him, even though my bedroom was on the second floor. If we were across the street at his house he would knock on the bedroom window when he was ready to be let in the house in the morning. While he didn't come in my house because he was afraid of my cats and dog, it didn't stop him from making sure one of us let him in his own house and fed him every morning.

I like to think Huxley came to think of me as his momma. Not quite as good as his dad, but always there for a cuddle or to feed him. And to let him into his own house when it was raining or cold and his owner wasn't home to do it. 

So Huxley thanked me in the way that all good cats show appreciation to those they love. He left me gifts outside of my back door. Gifts he was very proud of. Gifts of the dead animal variety.

And tonight it hit me as I was putting Kiel to bed and he was exploring his left nostril in preparation of handing me his booger.

Those hard won boogers that Kiel excavates from his nostrils and then proudly hands me are much like the dead animals that Huxley gave me. 

Disgusting? Certainly. 

Given with love? Absolutely!

~~~~~~~~~~

See? 

Cat, boogers, boy. 

I'm really not that hard to follow at all.

Show and Tell of the feline variety - part 2

This is Stel. He's my big boy cat.

Twenty-three pounds of pure cat flesh.

He is one of two brothers I adopted in August 1996. We used to call them Thing one and Thing two. They were wild little things as kittens.
Now he's more of a sweet old pussy cat. This is how he sleeps most of the time; curled up next to one of our other cats.
I used to call him my boyfriend. Except for the neutered bit, he'd be a pretty damn good man if he was human. He catches mice if they get in the house. He warms my feet at night. He eats quite a bit though. And he's scared of the vacuum. Pretty typical man actually.

Show and Tell - of the feline variety

We have three cats in the House of Therapy. Ambien, Rhone and Stel. They were our first babies, and in their minds they never gave up that position. And that's ok with me.

This is Ambien. She's having a little chat with Noah's Lamby in our bathroom. Rich actually came downstairs to tell me about it the other night, so I sent him back up with the camera.

Ambien is my princess cat. She's all white and soft and fluffy. She sleeps with me at night, right up by my shoulder. Curled up against me. She used to get up with me if I woke up to pee in the middle of the night; padding in to the bathroom with me then following me back to bed. Then when I was pregnant I was up four and fives times a night, and she eventually gave me the feline finger and stayed in bed asleep.

When Kiel came along and spent those first two months in bed with us she staked her claim early on, making sure that spot was HERS. I made sure she kept that spot. Many nights were spent with Ambien asleep on my left side, Kiel on my right.


Ambien came in to my life when she was a wee little six-week old kitten in June of 1995. Just a tiny little ball of fluff with the squeakiest purr. The happier she was the squeakier the purr. Oh my but she was adorable. She would greet me at the door when I came home from work. She never missed a day in those first few months together.

At the time she came to live with me I had just started dating the guy who owned the house across the street from me. Did I ever tell you about him? Remind me to do that someday.


I used to take Ambien over to visit with me and she loved it. I'm not sure what it was about his house but she just went crazy running and playing in it. She rarely stopped to rest. She was like a little kid that had to be taken home from a play date, so tired she couldn't fall asleep on her own. I would have to take her home just to get her to take a break.

He had an indoor/outdoor cat, Huxley, who was an old tom cat. All scruffy from fighting the other neighborhood cats. Ambien loved him! They were all big brother/little sister with each other. She adored him, he wanted nothing to do with her tolerated her. And then Huxley started to pee inappropriately and I had to stop bringing her over.

I'm guessing some of you are wondering how she got the name Ambien, since it's the name of a sleeping pill. Well, if you didn't know, I'm a pharmacist. When I got Ambien, like many babies, she had her nights and days mixed up. Those first few nights were tough, she wanted to be in my face, but didn't sleep much. I can't tell you how many times she woke me up by pouncing on my face or patting at my eyelids. And, since Ambien the drug had recently come to market, and I had a bit of a thing for the drug rep that was detailing it to my pharmacy, Ambien just seemed like the perfect name for her.


She's my little girl and I can't imagine not having her around. Holding her and rubbing my face in her fur is very calming. Watching her play with one of her toys, or hearing her chirp because she caught a "mouse" makes me smile. And seeing her control her two bigger, but younger, brothers makes me laugh. You would think they were beating her up, but I know that half the time she instigates their little tussles.

This was not the cat butt that was aimed at my face

Although the rest of him looks suspiciously like my gassy cat.

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