Intro Blog

Hi to everyone, and welcome!  I don’t know anything about blogs, I don’t read them, and I don’t know how they work, but I’ve decided to start one.  I couldn’t figure out what to call my blog, until I remembered a certain slumber party many years ago.  I was whispering and giggling with my friends late at night, as per slumber party etiquette, when the conversation got a little too bogged down in talk of boys.  Which boys were cute, which boys were decidedly not cute, which cute boys looked our way and when and for how long, etc.  Well, I had had enough, and said so, which brought the question, “Fine, Meg, what do you want to talk about?”  To which came the legendary (and apparently hysterically funny…and really, only half-serious) response: “I don’t know…how about…animals, and the world around us?” 

   So there you have it, folks; the reason for the title.  And to kick start the whole thing, I’ve written out the tale of my current animal, for your enjoyment. 

Ah, the joys of having a kitten.  Das Fluff is almost five months old now, and she’s almost as much trouble as she was when I first got her.  She had previously lived outdoors, under a trailer, and I brought her to live indoors, where she has the option of lounging on surfaces of varying degrees of cushiness.  I bought her cute cat dishes (with happy kitties on them!) and a heavy-duty scratching post (though apparently not heavy-duty enough, its already falling apart).  Her initial expression of gratitude for all of this was to by-pass the scratching post and uses my body to sharpen her claws.  Later on I would stop and stare at my person in shock and wonder with mild alarm, when did I walk through a briar patch?!...before remembering that ah, yes, I was the proud owner of Destructokitty. 

   She increased her output of damage when she came into heat and decided that her litter box was no longer acceptable as means of relieving herself, and that my bed would suffice just nicely.  She and I disagreed strongly on the issue.  I lost count of how many times I awoke to find her ‘burying’ her newly-deposited pee puddle on my white down comforter (why we animal lovers think we can get away with owning white things is beyond me). 

   So I took her to the vet to get her spayed.  The vet told me she was too young to get spayed.  I put the vet in a headlock and asked him if he would like to come to my house at five thirty in the morning and take the soiled bedding to the washing machine, put it in the dryer, take it out of the dryer, reassemble the comforter inside the comforter slipcover, place the comforter back on the bed, then take the vacuum around the house and suck up the thin layer of feathers that covered everything.  Das Fluff was spayed. 

   After I recovered from the cost of the vet bill, I began to lose sleep over the fact that Das was not doing so well with her recovery.  She was barely eating, her fluff had lost its luster, she was far too thin, and her incision area was not looking healthy.  I told her she could kidnap and misplace as many pairs of my socks as she wanted, as long as she got well.  I called the vet for advice, and they gave me some tips for getting her to eat, and eventually she got better.  Her belly has healed up nicely, and she’s back to being destructive.  Her latest game is bolting out from under my bed (she’s no longer allowed on top), kicking over the wastebasket, and dashing back under the bed before I can spray her with water.  I love my new spray bottle.  When I picked it up at walmart for less than a dollar I was unaware of its range.  I’ve started researching sniper positions and tactics and testing wind speed, it’s that good. 

   For all of Das’ destructive tendencies, I’m glad to have her.  There’s just something about a fluffy kitty purring contentedly in one’s lap that makes one’s life just that much happier.  So I guess I’ll keep her around a while longer.:)