I, Bugs

…am a most notable rabbit.

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Look for me and you won’t see me – for I live beneath the Oleander, and I like to look like a rock, even as I nibble.  See?  Or rather, not?

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Yet, here I am, with my impeccable desert camouflage.

Mistress Cat must be so jealous as she watches me through the glass, as I and my large family choose the parking lot in which to romp.

I am, indeed, a notable rabbit.

 

via Daily Prompt: Notable

Feline Inscrutability

It is I, Nezumi!

The Moms are off shopping, it’s the weekend after all.  Littledog out back is making all the noise he can, scratching at his door, and I’m glad there’s a fence between him and me.  Out front, there is Bigdog.  He’s as big as some two leggeds.  Sometimes he comes up to the window in front and we look at each other.  Good thing I can’t smell him through the glass.  He hardly ever barks or makes noise.

Newcat, I mean Shinji, is pretty fast moving for an old man.  There’s something else about him, though.  He’s inscrutable.  I can’t tell if he’s going to hiss at me or run or just go lie down somewhere, because with those stripes on his face it’s confusing.

I think maybe it’s because his ancestors came from Thailand.  They guarded both temples and palaces.  Now, he’s got a fair dash of tabby mixed in, but he also has the long body and blue eyes.  I’m still getting used to those.  Before that, the only one who had blue eyes was Mom.  But Shinji’s are even bluer than hers!

Shinji seems happier than he was.  He’s even gained weight.  I guess that’s okay, since I still get the same amount of pettings and nobody makes me share my Gooshy food, or my beds.  He’s so quiet.  Except at mealtime.  Then he’s loud!  His feelings are very obvious then.  But the rest of the time he’s inscrutable.

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Here he is, meditating.  Or possibly, just avoiding a photo.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/inscrutable/

Inherited Tales

Both my parents are storytellers.  I have become a storyteller too.  Deep in my family history on both sides are bards, singers, and tale spinners, hard workers who like a good joke and a laugh but can also tell a story to chill your bones.  Scotland and Ireland are lands both rich with wordplay and stories fit to warm the coldest night.

Having this inheritance, I like to use it where I can.  Considering the time of year, here’s a story that I may yet tell to someone young and make it their inheritance.

When I was a lass, and still went to church, my favorite thing to do around Yuletide was the Christmas play.  I loved the chance to don different clothes, wear a different face, play to an audience.  I probably would have loved to be in theatre.  Foreshadowing the time in high school when I would play Christopher Columbus, one year I got to play Joseph.

How exactly does one play Joseph?  He has no lines.  You might say it’s an entirely physical part.  So I, the happy actress, having thought about all this, proudly stood behind Mary, held a staff and guarded my “wife” and doll-bodied child.”  Privately, I thought I was the best Joseph there ever was, and didn’t think much of the whole gender issue.

The next year I had my dream role – an angel!  I loved angels and drew them often.  After all, they had wings and could fly, and that was just the ultimate in awesomeness to me.  Now, this particular play had a main part, Gabriel, and an ultimately infinite number of bit parts, the Multitude of the Heavenly Host.  It truly was a play designed to expand and contract to the needs of any size parish.

However, our parish was really rather small, and there weren’t that many kids for the taking.  I ended up being the only one member of the Multitude.  I was so proud of my costume with its white polyester robe and sparkly gold halo.  I even figured out how to flap the tinsel edged wings.  I was really looking forward to the play and practiced my line every chance I got.

Disaster struck!  My budding acting career was nearly cut short as I was kicked in the very chin!  To this day I can’t recall exactly how, but I think it happened at Sunday school the week before, and I had a big red mark.  It was odious!  Hideous!  How could I go on stage in such a state?  Really I’m sure it was barely visible, but I was embarrassed to go on stage.  After all, who would believe an angel with a red chin?

My intrepid dad came to the rescue.  He made up a song all about a red chinned angel, to the tune of “Rudolph the red nosed reindeer.”  He made me laugh and forget my troubles.  So when the day came I donned my robe, went on stage, and said my line with pride and panache.

Now that I think of it, the Multitude were probably all male angels too.

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Speaking of inherited tales, if you haven’t seen my family’s book of Holiday Tales called ‘Yuletide Lights,” you may want to give it a look.  The book is fully illustrated and consists of sixteen stories that bear quite a passing resemblance to Christmases that really happened – or nearly did.

You can see it here in paperback,

or here in eBook.

 

 

 

Did somebody say fluffy?

Ohai.  I, Nezumi, have taken over the blog again.  You see, this is one of my favorite words.  Fluff.  Fluffy.  Or better yet, FLOOFY.

Mom, you see, keeps building up her Guitar Fingers and isn’t typing as much.  She keeps playing with the Twangy Thing.  I help by occupying her chair so she has more practice standing up while playing, and sometimes by sitting on her book so it can stay open to the right page.  She says she can’t read through my butt.  I wonder what she means?  She also keeps making these odd noises with the Twangy Thing and naming them with letters.  C, G, E, F, D, things like that.  I don’t care about letters unless G stands for Gooshy Food.  It helps me stay nice and fluffy!

Today I’ll share with you all my favorite pictures of my own fluffy self.

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See?  Even my paws are fluffy.

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Here is my amazingly fluffy belly.  I’m being Unicorn Cat.

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Now I’m in Super Extra Fluffy Mode.

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Now I’m guarding the house against bugs.  This is my favorite sunbeam.  Still fluffy.

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And now I’ll go back to “helping” Mom with her blog, once her fingers recover.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/fluff/

Is your cat missing? They may be off to Nekotopia

 

Have you ever wondered why your cat tries to get into the most unlikely holes? Crawls into boxes? Lifts up blankets to see what’s there and then immediately comes out again? I caught up with a talkative tabby and learned the real reason.

These adventurous cats are trying to find the entrance into Nekotopia.

Nekotopia is a fabulous place that caters to the fondest desires of all cats. Here, you will find meadows of plush carpet, bacon flavored birds, cheese flavored mice, and forests of scratching posts. All the canned food is a special blend that subtly changes its flavor with every bite.

All the Two-Leggeds are permanently set to their Lap Available mode, and hands are always available for petting. There are special Two-Leggeds with wide shoulders so especially lazy cats can ride around on them. Fresh kibble is dispensed regularly in a variety of flavors. Fountains provide constant water and are also available in hot and cold running lactose free milk.

Nekotopia is indeed wonderful, every flower bed is a litter box, every garden grows catnip and wheat grass. All the dogs are small and easy to chase. There are pillow bushes and cushions grow in the ground like mushrooms. The sun shines in a latticed pattern to provide lovely Sunbeams. FIsh tanks dot the landscape for feline amusement.

And, as your cat might tell you if you feed them enough catnip, it’s just on the other side of that kitty cave.

 

via Daily Prompt: Missing

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https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/missing/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/mythical/

 

 

It may sound Ostentatious, but…

…the real name for a group of house cats is not a Clowder.  It’s a Stripe.  A Stripe of House Tigers.  For that is just what we are, house tigers.

I’m taking over Other Mom’s keyboard again.  She’s off buying turkey breast and pumpkin and baking supplies and I don’t know what all.  Luckily, she’s buying Sheba perfect portions, which I love, so I decided I’d help with the blog again.

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I never liked it when the Two-Leggeds called a group of my kind a Clowder.  It sounds stupid, almost like chowder, which I’d love to eat but am told is too salty.  No, I am much more like a tiger, only in a far more reasonable size and marked in much more varied colors.  The other main difference is that I don’t like to swim.  I hear tigers do.  Therefore, I am part of a Stripe.

For those softer cats who like to lie down with the Two-Leggeds rather than boss them around, they also have a name.  Their group is a Cuddle.  A Cuddle of Cats.

Now that you know, you can start using the names properly.  A Stripe of House Tigers, a Cuddle of Cats.  Now I hear Other Mom coming.  I must make sure she doesn’t forget my favorite flavor of Gooshy Food.  Also it’s time for my ration of head scritches and jaw rubs.

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via Daily Prompt: Ostentatious

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/ostentatious/