Monday, July 30, 2012


Olympic boxing took center stage in the foster room as the kittens got a new box this weekend.

One of the very few times that kittens were actually inside the box.  They love to use the flaps outside the box as tunnels and as hiding spots to launch attacks against their siblings.

"What am I doing IN the box??  Need to get undercover..."

Porter stalking Eloise from inside his "box fort".

Henry, also stalking Eloise.  Our poor little girl is dreadfully outnumbered.  Good thing she can take every single one of these boys.

Her small size contributes her stealth capabilities. 

Still amazed that our teeny tiny tabby princess can't collapse even the flimsiest of boxes.

Eloise hiding out from her meddlesome brothers.

Henry taking a wide turn on his supersonic, super-speedy laps around the boxes.

Henry getting his recommended daily allowance of cardboard.
 Henry 1, Box 0

Porter the vampire gets to snackin' on the box.
Porter 1, Box 0

The poor box just can't catch a break.  Sooner or later I expect that someone will pee on it and put it out of it's misery.

The Olympic Boxing Champion

Final Results:

Gold:  Eloise
Silver: Henry
Bronze: Porter

Medal Count:

Eloise: 2
Henry: 2
Porter: 2


The Big Cats Take Their Turns in the Boxing Ring

Norman snoozes undetected in a comfy, fur-lined box.

While Penny just doesn't seem to get this whole "boxing" thing.

Simba versus the pizza box is no contest.

Final Results:

Gold: Simba
Silver: Norman
Bronze: Penny

Medal Count:

Simba: 1
Norman: 1
Penny: 1


The Ugly Truth

Monday was pretty horrifying as I discovered a spot of what is probably ringworm on two of my own animals.  The obsession of sanitizing and medicating in the foster room is now my full time life as I battle for my pets and my family.  I am angry (although I have no idea with whom).  I am frustrated beyond belief.  I am ready to cry.

Funny thing is that Robyn over at Love & Hisses gave me the Sunshine award today.  I am sorry that I probably won't be feeling very sunshiny for the next few days while I focus on what needs to be done here.

I'd like to have fun and be Pollyanna today, but the ugly truth is that I'm just not feeling it.  I hope you will all bear with me for a little bit while I compose myself.  I'll be back in a few days to update you all and (hopefully) with better news about how we're beating this devil of an infestation.

Metro Monday and More!!

Big kitten news today.  Even if you normally skip Metro Monday, make sure you scroll down :-)

Summers of my childhood were spent at the corner of Michigan and Trumbull... the old Tiger Stadium.  I can still hear Ernie Harwell, George Kell, and Al Kaline's voices in my head as they called the baseball games for local radio and television.  

Built in 1912 and opening just days after the sinking of the Titanic, the stadium was already creaky, smelly, peeling, and just plain old by the time I started spending time there in the early 1980s... and yet I couldn't get enough.  I can still rattle off the lineup and pitching rotation for the 1984 World Series champions like it was yesterday.  Forget Kirk Gibson's epic home run that lifted the Dodgers to the title in 1988.  It was just a replay.  He did it first in 1984.

My father, a retired Detroit Police lieutenant, took me there as often as possible.  The stadium offered two free seats to city police and firefighters.  With a flash of a badge, we got street parking right next to the stadium and seats in the lower level in right field.

The approximate view from our seats in right field (except our section had chain link fencing in the way... at least it was free)

Tiger Stadium creaked to a close after the 1999 season, but the empty building stood for another ten years before they brought it down.  Dubbed "Ernie Harwell Park", the diamond remains behind.  I hear that if you show up on a Saturday afternoon at 3:30, you might find a pick-up baseball game to join.

Sad, but at least it's still being used.

My husband dragged the kids downtown Sunday evening to check out Ernie Harwell Park.
The gate was open and he ran the bases.  He is a happy man.

In the 1990s, ownership of the team transferred from one pizza baron (Tom Monaghan, founder of Domino's Pizza) to another (Mike Ilitch, founder and owner of Little Caesar's and also the hometown Detroit Red Wings).   At the end of the decade, a new stadium was built.  Set into a revitalized area of downtown, the Lions play at Ford Field next door and the historic Fox Theater stands across the street.  It's taken a dozen years for my allegiance to transfer to the new building, but it truly is magnificent. 

My view from the very cheap seats for the 2011 playoffs.

The Renaissance Center as seen from the ballpark.

My hair's not quite so short anymore, thank goodness.  For some reason I thought a pixie was a good way to go during the stress of moving last summer.  

And they set off a darn good fireworks show after every Friday night home game (although this particular shot was taken on the 4th of July instead).  Between the fireworks and Pepsi logo?  A neon "Pure Michigan" advertisement.  Tim Allen's voice in those commercials can stop me dead in my tracks.

Passing on the allegiance to the next generation (who spent their formative years out of state) has been a bit difficult.  But this was the cake my son requested for his 13th birthday.  He also got to spend the day at the ballpark for a double header.


The New Guy

I never suspected when I went to Petco during the Saturday adoption hours to get supplies for my foster kittens that I would be coming home with another kitten for the front room.  Meet Ben...

Ben came out of the same foster hoarding situation as my trio.  Like Porter, he was a singleton that got matched to a pair of litter mates.  Much bigger and healthier than the other two, he was becoming a bit of a holy terror... bullying, pouncing on, and scaring the dickens out of the pair with whom he shared a foster space.  

Since he too is at the tail end of a ringworm infestation (just one spot left on the back of an ear), he had to be matched into one of the other foster homes with ringworm kittens.  Slightly older and bigger than Porter, we decided to try him out here.  He's easily two or three times the size of an Eloise.  Good thing my spunky spitfire doesn't know how tiny she actually is.

Henry (left) and Ben (right, the dilute tabby)... Henry is just a hair smaller than Porter, the biggest of our original trio.

A look at all four of them at dinner time.  Teeny-tiny Eloise at the top of the orange plate, with Henry and Ben at the bottom.  Smartypants Porter has the red plate all to himself. ;-)

Ben is a brute who doesn't know his own strength.  He's hard-charging, very playful, and interested in everything.  I think Henry has lost the title of wild child of the foster room.  Not that he seems to mind.  Henry has become Ben's constant shadow.

We've had a couple moments of floofing and hissing, but otherwise the transition seems to be going well.  Eloise and Porter, the more reserved of the original trio, were a bit wary of Ben on Saturday.  By Sunday morning, they were chasing each other up and down the cat tree as if he had always been there.

GOOD NEWS!!!!!!!!  With healing coming along at a good pace, I've been given the OK to pause the bathing for a week and see what happens.  Think good thoughts for us please!


Your Olympic Moment

We celebrate the Summer Olympics by challenging the kitties to compete in various Olympic sports.  Today, the kittens show off their wrestling moves.

Eloise pins Henry to the mat.

Henry and Porter are pretty evenly matched, although Porter seems to be getting the better of Henry here.

Porter uses his patented vampire move on Eloise.


No Ben wrestling pictures?  Hmmm, he must have been the giant blur in the middle of the photo session.  As it was, I don't think Benny is too used to having competition close to his own size.  Boy, does he whine like a baby when someone is getting the better of him.  :-)

Final Results:

Gold: Porter
Silver: Henry
Bronze: Eloise

Medal Count:

Porter: 1
Henry: 1
Eloise: 1

Friday, July 27, 2012

Making It Work

Hooray!!  Project Runway is back!!  Someone (okay... it might have been me) got the bright idea to dress up the kittens in the fashions that the American Girls weren't using at the moment.

"Whatcha doing, Girl?  Those clothes sure look pretty!"

"What on earth does this child think she's doing to the Wheeze??"

"Just lie back and think of England.  It will all be over soon enough."

"Trust me, Girl.  Blue is not Eloise's color."

"Yeah... no blue, no helmets.  This squishes Weezy's whiskers."

It did not take long before the kittens rejected their roles as models and decided they were designers instead.

"Hmmm... Henry thinks Eloise would look much better in stripes."

"What???  She WOULD!"

"Eloise prefers the pink cheetah print instead."

"Just a stitch here and a tuck there..."

"Hey Eloise, Porter thinks this makes your butt look big."

"As if YOUR creation is much better?"

"Seriously... I'm nearly NAKED in this thing!"

"She's so demanding. Now I have to add an entire skirt.  Henry... you're not really helping, you know."

"Fine.  Henry prefers the challenge of unconventional materials anyway."

"Ooooooooohhh!!!!  Knitwear!!"

"Sure... my model will complain that her tail is hanging out, but Henry simply will not compromise his design."

"Porter prefers to work with fur.  It's almost as comfortable as wearing nothing at all."

"Dude... Your seam is crooked."

"Henry will fix it!"

"Surrrrrrrrrrre, Henry will fix it."

"Did you see the one he made out of yarn and broom straw??  Ghastly!"

I love Project Runway so much that I'm known for not turning it off at the end and watching it again on the seemingly endless loop that Lifetime has going.  Feel free to dish with me in the comments.  Also, Olympics.... SQUEEEEEEE!

Psst... You will also notice that only one kitten ever made it into the clothing.  The boys decided that they were very definitely NOT playing dress-up.



It started with an uh-oh moment and became an "Aha" moment.

My peaceful shower was interrupted by a terrific crash in the kitchen.  Kids were sleeping.  Husband was at work.  This couldn't be good.

I walked out, drippy and sudsy, to find Penelope in the middle of the pieces of a shattered vase... happily crunching away.  She had found a bowl of kibble that we had stashed at the back of the counter (to keep dog and fat cats out of it) and decided she was hungry for it.  Apparently, pushing the bowl to the floor required removing the vase first... dang, I liked that vase!

Later in the day when we offered her more of the same kibble, the diva refused yet again... choosing instead to eat crunchies that had fallen on the floor near Norman's bowl.  Hmmm.... is is the bowl she hates?  Couldn't be.  After all, it's the exact same bowl from which she wolfs her canned food.

The experiment: Feed Penny crunchies off a plate instead.
The result: She ate it.
The verdict: She's a brat.

"Don't hate me because I'm beautiful..."



Significant doorway drama with an elevated chance of escape.

After 24 days in residence, Henry and Porter have finally decided that they want to check out the other side of their door.  I've collected them each from the front hallway twice.  Can't wait until Uncle Norman figures out that diversion.

Have a great weekend, everyone.