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Tag Archives: kittens

Little Bo Meep

31 Tuesday Aug 2010

Posted by Jane Bretl in get along like cats and dogs, seasons

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

cats, cowboy, kittens, Little Bo Meep, Rubenesque

Some may think summer is the time for kicking back and relaxing… other creatures find back-to-school much more rejuvenating.

How they still wedge themselves into the bed they shared as kittens, I don’t know.  Sometimes the combined weight will cause the cat bed to careen off the edge of the Kitty Condo Tower, sending Meep’s pear-shaped butt hurtling through the air in a desperate attempt to land on her feet.  She needs the tower to be a few feet taller to master that manuever.

Because as kittens are apt to do, they turned into Cats.

This cat formerly known as Mia — the perfect cat name I had chosen 21 years ago much the way a young girl would pick her favorite baby name — this cat has turned out to be not a Mia at all, much the way the name I dreamed of for my some-day daughter would be vetoed by my husband as the name of the girl in the back of class that ate paste.  Mia just didn’t fit right.  She was soon renamed Meep, in reference to the little squeaky peep she emits instead of a common meow.  Of course from there, it was a slippery slope to Queen Meepersly Squeakersworth.  (*Meep* )

In an unfortunate series of events, and without the use of performance-enhancing kitty treats or Ben & Jerry’s Mouse Tracks, she has morphed into a cat of Rubenesque proportions, a look that is difficult for a cat, or the rest of us for that matter, to pull off without ridicule.  Yet another visit to the Vet confirmed that cats do come in all different shapes and sizes, like the rest of us for that matter, and, while unfortunate, her shape is within the scope of normal.

*

Cowboy, on the other hand, is a long, tall glass of water.  He got to keep his name, because it fits him.

*

He has Ten Gallon ears.

*

So, by contrast?  When Meep stands next to him?  She looks like she has a tiny head and is wearing a furry hoop skirt.

Poor Little Bo Meep.  Maybe kicking back will tone her abs?

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what’s in your in-box?

31 Sunday Jan 2010

Posted by Jane Bretl in Photography, something important, I'm sure

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Buddy Greene, Carnegie Hall, harmonica, inbox, kittens

I was cleaning out my in-boxes (the email one and the one with papers overflowing), when I found something I’d like to share.

Wait, that is just a picture of my in-box, along with a reminder to remember the important things in life.  Here is what I really want to share — a video that reminds me of someone special.

Now, there are harmonica players, and then there are harmonica players.  I have my favorite harmonica musician, but this guy isn’t bad either.  Enjoy the music! (Doesn’t it make you want to take a deep breath?)

Kids — you can try this at home.  Grandpas — make sure you have an oxygen tank handy first.

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oh boy, tannenbaum

28 Monday Dec 2009

Posted by Jane Bretl in get along like cats and dogs, Photography, seasons

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

cats, Christmas tree, Jane Koenen Bretl, kittens, tannenbaum

O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree,

Why is a cat on top of thee?

*

O Christmas tree, O Christmas Tree,

why do the ornaments go * “wheeeeee!” * ???

*

The top does sway, the star did fall,

That’s why it’s tied right to the wall…

*

O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree,

A kitten treehouse you will be.

*

Happy Holidays to all!

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solving a happy problem

26 Monday Oct 2009

Posted by Jane Bretl in get along like cats and dogs, Motherhood, Writing

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

BabyBjorn, kittens, NaNoWriMo, Writing

I have what I might consider the happiest problem I could dream up.  One of the new kittens, Mia, is very supportive of my writing.  In fact, nearly every time I sit down at the keyboard to write, she jumps up to my lap and tries to reward my writing efforts by purring hysterically from a spot on my chest.  If she is all the way down on my lap, she makes a little meepy squeak and reaches her paw up toward my cheek, brushing it with her velvet paw until I hold her up higher again.  (I know that borders on kitten-porn but I need you to understand the urgency of the situation…)

She just likes to be tucked close under my chin.  Admittedly, I have a shelf-of-sorts, although it slopes gently southeast more with each passing year, so for now I try to hold her with my left hand and type with my right.  This is my dream problem, but it is a problem, as shown here in exhibit A:

i am nowtyping this witgh one hand whcih reaaly slashes the wordcount  productviity rate.  would be a goood idea to sollve this before say novmeber 1???

OK, back to two hands for a minute.  Maybe I should follow my own advice to my kids — think about the real problem and find solutions?  (They are sooooo tired of the word “solutions”…)

  1. Kitten purring enhances productivity if/when I have use of approximately ten fingers.
  2. Lap is not close enough to chin; although chin(s) keep migrating south also, there is thankfully still a large gap.
  3. Moving shelf back to the north and increasing its level weight-bearing strength/buoyancy/perkiness would require costly surgery.

Here’s one thought:  the BabyBjorn was popular when my kids were babies, but I gave mine away years ago.  Even though the kittens are tripling in size every 48 hours, I still think Mia would be lost in a baby carrier.  Besides, she needs more of an under-chin sling, something shaped like a feedbag-of-sorts that can rest on the shelf-of-sorts, and keep her purring away in her ideal spot, hands-free .  The purring is as mesmerizing a writing aid as the cuckoo clock has always been;  I can just keep typing to the methodical beat of the clock and the kitten.

And perhaps the most poignant aspect of this situation?  Like The Ode To Joy, one never knows when the wonderful problem will stop as suddenly as it appeared, so one must enjoy the problem while it lasts.  The Ode ended as it inevitably had to do, and the Purring could easily find a more comfortable spot, leaving me in the silence I always wished for when the kids were small, and now dread.

So. There is how the idea for the new invention, The KittenKjorn, is born.

Admittedly, there is too small a target market (1? 2?) for this to be a viable business venture.  Plus the useful life of the product is short, unless you happen to also own a guinea pig or other furry mammal who also longs to snuggle under your chin (umm, yuck).  Here’s what makes the idea a winner for me though — when the kitten grows too large, which should be shortly after NaNoWriMo at the current feline growth rate, the KittenKjorn could be repurposed, maybe with snacks?  Say, Chex Party Mix?  Or cookies?  There will be a lot of editing starting December 1, and I do need to keep that productivity up…

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what a nincompoop

19 Monday Oct 2009

Posted by Jane Bretl in get along like cats and dogs

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

kittens

We are having a good time with our new kitten friends.  They bounce around the house like ping pong balls now that they are feeling better.  CowboyKitty has proven to have many virtuous qualities, pingponginess for example, but cleanliness is not one of them; his fur has looked a bit disheveled since the day we brought him home.  White fur on cats should be white, right?  Not beige, or taupe, or ecru?  In his defense, he was sick(er than we thought possible), so we cut him some slack on the whole hygiene idea.  And therefore, I was so happy to see him actually grooming himself one day, I took a picture of it.

I snapped this photo right before he ripped open the delicate site of his kitty vasectomy.

whoa up on the stiches, big fella

Hey!  I have a great idea!  Let’s go back to the vet!

Luckily(?), I already had a vet appointment for MiaKitty that very day so he could just tag along.  Who knew that for him, cleanliness would be next to vet-liness?

This little guy makes us laugh everyday with his kittenish antics, but his litterbox habits are another “area for improvement”, at least according to Mia and the rest of the feline population.  Training a kitten is the polar opposite experience from potty training a puppy — really, it could not be easier.  They seem to come out of the chute knowing just what to do as long as a litterbox is handy.  He actually uses the litterpan flawlessly, but then he neglects to cover up his business.  I thought this was Rule #1 in the Kitty Handbook.  Mia just goes in after him, shoots him a dirty look, and proceeds to cover it up.  Can a girl kitten mutter under her breath?  If she could, she would.

From my view, it is the feline equivalent of the guy leaving the toilet seat up.

Now, this morning?  He had poo on his head.  How in the hell does a cat get poo on his head?  They are the cleanest animals on earth, I muttered under my breath.  He didn’t mind his sponge bath too much though. (But, really, what guy does?)

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a tale of two kitties

07 Wednesday Oct 2009

Posted by Jane Bretl in get along like cats and dogs, Motherhood

≈ 14 Comments

Tags

A Tale of Two Cities, Brett Favre, Charles Dickens, humane society, Jane Koenen Bretl, kittens

How does the story go?  It was the best of times, it was the worst of times?  At risk of Dickensian metaphorical hyperbole, the last couple weeks have had some ups and downs.  There was the loss of a beloved pet, but the adoption of two new ones.  There were the three trips to the vet when the cute little new pets became very sick, but nothing multiple medications given via syringe and squirted into the eyes twice a day couldn’t remedy.  There were the emails and calls about possible sightings of our lost pet, which raised our hopes but all of which turned out to be the wrong cat.  There was the shocking revelation that after ten weeks of hard, sweat-dripping, muscle-aching, don’t-fear-the-burn exercising at the gym with my nazi personal trainer, I officially lost one pound (ARE YOU KIDDING ME?) and my thighs are one inch bigger.  *THEN* there was the family health scare, thankfully with a happy ending, that put all the other problems into perspective.  (Because, finally, we find something that actually is one of the big problems in life.)

I’m still mad about the thighs thing though.

Gym drama aside, I am happy to share some good pet news for a change:   we have two new little kittens at our house.  They do not fill the hole in our hearts, but there is nothing like kitten silliness to cheer the soul.  They are, frankly, ridiculous.

This is Mia.

Mia

She is not the kitten I specifically went in to the humane society to find, but she turned out to be The One.  After 17 hours in the kitten room at the shelter, when the volunteer carries in The One, you just know.  She is very sweet and quiet and a bit shy.  She likes to curl up under my chin to go to sleep.  It makes housework difficult to complete.

This is Cowboy.

howdy cowboy

He is not the brightest star in the dark prairie sky, but he purrs like a hemi engine (very impressive to the automotive experts around here) and is an extremely playful and affectionate little guy.  I went to the humane society five times in two weeks to find just the right kitten; he is SO not what I went in specifically to find either, but he told me he wanted to come live with us, so what could I do?  Plus, those clever marketing geniuses at the shelter offered me two-kittens-for-the-price-of-one, so he was the bonus, BOGO kitten.  (Turns out, two kittens come with twice the diseases and parasites that they can quickly share!  What a deal!)

So, things are looking up.

1.  The kittens are rounding the corner towards good health, which means they are getting into more and more mischief every day.  (They were so well behaved when they were just laying there…)

2.  The outpouring of help and concern and kind words from the community in the search for our cat has warmed my heart.

3.  The scale at the gym clearly has something wrong with it.  The decades-long pain in my back is much better, my lungs can take deeper breaths, my clothes fit better and I have more stamina when I walk the dog.

4.  The biggest health problem my family now has to face is how sick we feel when watching Brett Favre on the Vikings.

Packer fans

And the extra inch on each thigh?  It just means I can hold both kittens on my lap at once instead of doing the dishes.

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jane, candid

In 2009, I started this blog to share my sometimes thoughtful, sometimes funny, occasionally irreverent thoughts on motherhood, writing for publication and myriad creatures that got along as cats and dogs.

One day, I felt like stepping away from living out loud for awhile. Eh, life happens.

Fast forward five years -- I'll gloss over the details for now -- save to say that lucky for me an unexpected detour has provided some new material.

So here I am, standing at the corner. I've been here before, wondering which way to go. This time I choose living.

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