tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42539403466042831472024-02-18T22:28:46.890-06:00Addicted To HumansA blog about a delightful feline who happens to be enamored with human beings. And food.Stellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04631437352442438101noreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253940346604283147.post-70338259161001043702013-03-30T10:47:00.003-05:002013-03-30T10:51:59.508-05:00Catch Up TimeWell, my goodness. Time has sure flown since my last post hasn't it? Almost five months! Please accept my most humble apologies but we've been rather busy.<br />
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There have been holidays and celebrations that are just too numerous to mention. But one thing that happened that I'm simply tickled about is Ms. Patty and Mr. K are now one. Yes, my pretties, they were married on February 2, 2013. Meow!<br />
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Mr. K surprised Ms. Patty by proposing to her in December, right before Christmas. Oh, we've all been just thrilled about their tying the knot! Their celebration was at a local Italian restaurant (I wasn't invited, imagine the feast I would have enjoyed!) with their closest family members and best friends. Their ceremony was a Celtic one called hand-fasting, you'll have to Google it, it's quite interesting. Their rings are beautiful, with Celtic designs and Ms. Patty's has a pretty square diamond with two emeralds on either side going down the band.<br />
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Well, you can read more about them at <a href="http://cakersandco.com/2013/03/16/six-weeks/" target="_blank">Ms. Patty's blog</a>. This is my blog and I have something to say.<br />
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Ms. Patty has been using me. Yes, using me. How? Photographing me while I'm asleep. She knows I don't like to have my picture taken, especially if I haven't had time to groom myself and look my very best.<br />
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I give her nudgies by pressing my forehead against her chin - repeatedly, I rub against her leg with my silky fur, I talk to her about my day when she gets home. I even offer to lick her dinner plate clean, Mr. K's too! And all I ask is that she allow me to look beautiful when she photographs me.<br />
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She's been participating in a photo a day challenge and she used me in her latest photo. Why, I didn't even know she had taken the picture until last night when she was on the computer and I saw myself! Oh, I let her know I was upset by meowing at the screen and touching the keyboard but she didn't understand. I ran off and curled up in my bed by the heat vent behind the couch. I was so embarrassed.<br />
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Ms. Patty came and found me and explained that people loved how I looked in the photo. That I was pretty and adorable, and that I should be flattered by their compliments. Well, I looked at it again and you know what? I do look purrtty hot. Meow...<br />
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Ms. Patty: <i>Stella, I'm going to put your picture out here if you don't mind, </i></div>
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<i>since it seems you like it after all. It is a rather pretty one of you. </i></div>
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Stella: <i>Yes, Ms. Patty, you may.</i> </div>
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Ms. Patty: <i>I love you, Stella.</i></div>
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Stella: <i>I love you too, Mommy</i>.</div>
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<br />Stellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04631437352442438101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253940346604283147.post-47335588351423898842012-11-05T09:38:00.003-06:002013-03-30T10:54:21.410-05:00Happy Cativersary, Stella!<i>This post is being written by Stella's mommy, Ms. Patty.</i><br />
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I adopted Stella two years ago today from the <a href="http://www.okah.net/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Oak Knoll Animal Hospital</a> in St Louis Park. When I first met her she was pregnant with a litter of kittens and she didn't have a name. Stella was brought to the animal hospital by a police officer, she'd been in a bit of scuffle with another cat in a park (and subsequently also bit one of the officers).<br />
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<span style="color: purple;"><b>Stella says:</b></span><i> I did not 'scuffle', Ms. Patty, I was attempting to remove an evil feline from the park. And therefore, defending myself as she was quite a hussy about it.</i><br />
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Whatever works for you, Stella, darling.<br />
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Stella remained with the one of the staff members through the birthing and weaning of her kittens. She had 5 gorgeous babies on <a href="http://addictedtohumans.blogspot.com/2011/01/psssti-have-secret.html" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">September 8, 2010</a>. One girl and four boys. All just sweet as pie. Well, Harley was questionable in that regard, still sweet, but full of mischief. Her daughter had a sweetheart shaped face, then there were the twins and finally, Blacky. (I don't believe these are their names now, but at the time that was what they were referred to - at least by me.)<br />
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The day I picked Stella up from Oak Knoll, she was recovering from surgery. She'd been spayed, had a chip implanted, and her front paws declawed. She was quite lovable from the start, and ever since that day I have adored her. And now Mr. K adores her, too. We're so lucky to have such a loving, fun, vocal (um, that can come down just a tidge, Stella, we'd appreciate it and still love you just as much, if not more!), and oh, so entertaining feline.<br />
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My thanks once again to the fabulous staff at Oak Knoll for caring for Stella and her babies, and a special thank you for Vicki, for letting me know you had a cat that needed a home and that she thought Stella was perfect for me. You were spot on, Ms. Vicki, big hugs to you! <i>(Stella says thank you to everyone as well, meow!)</i>. </div>
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Here is a mosaic of Stella with her babies. The top photo on the right are the twins, the middle photo shows Blacky and Stella's beautiful girl, and the bottom photo is the mischievous one, Harley. <i>(Click photo to view larger,)</i><br />
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Happy Cativersary, Stella!!<br />
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Love,<br />
Ms. Patty<br />
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<br />Stellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04631437352442438101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253940346604283147.post-30230579913653502192012-09-17T16:45:00.000-05:002012-09-17T16:45:12.125-05:00Gone For the Entire WeekendMs. Patty & Mr. K went away for the weekend and left me all by myself. No one to visit me, no one to play with. I was so sad!<br />
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Ok, that's not entirely true. Cousin Lisa stopped by for a bit and gave me some food and played with me. The funny thing is? She didn't know about the food dispenser that would feed me at dinner time and she fed me like she thought I hadn't gotten a meal yet. So I got fed an extra time on Saturday!<br />
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<i>Comment inserted by Ms. Patty - "Stella, darling - a little secret for you. We (you, Mr. K and myself) all need to cut back on how much we eat. In case you aren't aware of it you've put on a few ounces <Mr. K - more like a pound or so, actually.>. So enjoy what that extra treat felt like because things are about to change. Love you, Mommy."</i><br />
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Well, it WAS fun so I shall enjoy a bit longer.<br />
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What else has been happening? Oh, the bird!! We got a bird! It chirps, it bounces around and it's so much fun to chase down the stairs. Then I carry it back up in my mouth. I'm really loving this new toy. Want to see?<br />
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Oh, I should add that the times I'm grooming myself I'm doing so because I need to. Ms. Patty and Mr K seem to think I shouldn't do that. I think they feel I can't concentrate on what I'm doing at the time if I'm always grooming. But my coat is special, you see. It's almost like silk so I have to stay on it all the time. Do ignore the number of times I stop to groom myself in the video, it's part and parcel of who I am. So there.<br />
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<i>Comment inserted by Ms. Patty - "At least in the video we didn't announce those moments as we usually do by saying 'Grooming Moment!!' There were simply too many, Stella, darling."</i><br />
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Well, I leave you with this video and I promise to be back again sooner rather than later. I've been so very lax on keeping up with my blogging. Do forgive me.<br />
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<i><span style="color: purple;"><b>Love,</b></span></i><br />
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<i><span style="color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Stella</b></span></i><br />
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<br />Stellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04631437352442438101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253940346604283147.post-7193430771178780312012-04-29T19:43:00.002-05:002012-04-29T19:43:31.757-05:00Happiest of Springs!One might think I'd fallen right off the face of the earth, but I have not. I've been enjoying my days napping and then eating dinner with Ms. Patty & Mr. K. Then in the evenings, because he can't resist my charms, Mr. K tosses snacks around for me to dash after.<br />
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Though one thing, I wish he wouldn't put them where I have to jump up so far. It messes up my fur and we know how much I like my fur to be just so.<br />
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Well, beggers can't be choosers, right?<br />
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Meow, my pretties.<br />
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<br />Stellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04631437352442438101noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253940346604283147.post-54031979373844231152011-12-28T21:26:00.000-06:002011-12-28T21:26:30.114-06:00Life Is Grand<div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">Oh my, how time has flown. I've been simply enjoying life with Ms. Patty and Mr. K. And with the holidays there's been all sorts of fun to stuff to get into (that I'm sure I'm not supposed to). Let me tell you a little about life of late. I'll have more as we move into the new year.<o:p></o:p></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">A few months ago Mr. K fixed something with the furnace; no clue what to be quite honest - I'm a feline, not a human being. Anyway, whatever he did resulted in something utterly fascinating. No, really!<o:p></o:p></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">From the furnace there now is this clear tube, it goes through a hole near the floor in the utility room into another part of the basement, and continues to the laundry room to the drain.<o:p></o:p></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">Have you ever seen water flow through a tube? Why, it’s simply amazing to see those bubbles glide along in there. I sometimes pounce on a bubble to see if I can catch it but all that does it move it further along.<o:p></o:p></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">In fact, I followed it one day only to find that the water was coming out of the tube at the drain. I could watch this for hours. And I have, my pretties, I have.<o:p></o:p></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">What else has been going on? Well, Ms. Patty and Mr. K. put up some pretty lights and ornaments near the ceiling. They were hung from one end of the living room to the other, and the tail of the white garland landed right by the Christmas packages. (Well, they did, the packages are gone now.) I really enjoyed playing with the garland and the pretty curlicue ribbons on the packages, such fun. However, Ms. Patty didn’t seem to think so, so I tried to do that when she wasn’t looking.<o:p></o:p></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">Lately, however, I’ve been a bit frustrated. I know I should be grateful because I get fed every day, but they’ve gone and changed my feeding times and set up again. And it doesn’t include my food dispenser that I loved playing with even when I wasn’t eating. Why, you ask?<o:p></o:p></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">I’m a bit embarrassed to admit it, but I broke it. I didn’t mean to, it just sort of happened. And now as a result of my foolishness, I get my food twice a day in a bowl.<o:p></o:p></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">With two potatoes.<o:p></o:p></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">You think I jest? Alas, I do not.<o:p></o:p></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi23KV-sykdnTz7BgNNrGkT5PXO6uvzMJwQ5M5WxvFpLk5rFHJANYpcqP76gcuvDTjD1lR6DLTqGV1o3Koqk3f6ZwNTHCaeU4GJFcw3MYv0yNrqf2LL00h2wR7FsF53BjV-vz2e4x1ryrX7/s1600/IMAG0985.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi23KV-sykdnTz7BgNNrGkT5PXO6uvzMJwQ5M5WxvFpLk5rFHJANYpcqP76gcuvDTjD1lR6DLTqGV1o3Koqk3f6ZwNTHCaeU4GJFcw3MYv0yNrqf2LL00h2wR7FsF53BjV-vz2e4x1ryrX7/s320/IMAG0985.jpg" width="315" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">See? <o:p></o:p></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">They think they’re doing me a favor, having those potatoes in the dish. Supposedly I’m working my forepaw muscles and being kind to my belly.<o:p></o:p></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">I suppose there might be some truth to that, though I truly hate to admit it. Ms. Patty says I used to eat (she actually said ‘snarf’ which is such a trailer trash-like term, how insulting!) my meal in about two minutes, now I’m spending a great amount of time eating, upwards of 20 minutes. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">Perhaps this is a good thing, after all, it might just be helping me get my svelte figure back. Just don't tell Ms. Patty or Mr. K that I'm admitting this, it would ruin my reputation.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><br />
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</div>Stellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04631437352442438101noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253940346604283147.post-68593344528177054222011-11-12T09:06:00.001-06:002011-11-12T09:11:36.179-06:00I'm In A Bit Of TroubleTo those who know me, that won't come as a surprise (<i>so I'm told by Ms. Patty</i>). However, for those who don't know me, what I did was sooooo worth being in trouble now. At least I hope so. Well, you decide after you read what happened.<br />
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Ms. Patty feeds me in such an unappealing way, she uses a programmable food dispenser. So only a certain amount of food comes out for me at each feeding. Certainly not enough, hmmm.<br />
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But EUREKA! I have figured out how to sneak food out of the dispenser without Ms. Patty knowing. Well, now she knows but for days I had it going on! Meoooooow!<br />
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She was in the living room with Mr. K this morning, they were quietly chatting. My breakfast had been served automagically and then I made my move ever so stealthily. I stuck my paw up into the chute where the food comes down and ta da!!, I had seconds in my bowl!<br />
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But then I heard "<i>That little cheater!</i>!" And I knew the fun and games were over.<br />
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Ms. Patty came over and noticed the level of food left in the dispenser itself and exclaimed, "<i>This shouldn't be this low, I was figuring refilling this next week, now we'll have to refill it probably this weekend. She's been cheating a lot! Stella!</i>"<br />
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Gulp. (And not a food gulp, rather, an "uh oh" gulp.)<br />
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Then you know what she did?? Two things that were just utterly shocking.<br />
<ol><li>She weighed me and said I had gained weight (<b>have not, that's just my winter coat!</b>).</li>
<li>Horror of horrors - she put the food dispenser in the CLOSET! </li>
</ol>How am I supposed to get fed if it's in THERE? Oh, dear. I'm going to have a hard time remaining the lady that I am (<b>stop laughing, Ms. Patty, that's not very polite!</b>) if I can't see my food dispenser. How will I know when to sit over there and watch it until the food comes down if I can't see it?<br />
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Oh dear, can some please give me advice on how to get my food dispenser back? I would be forever in your debt. Purrrrrrr....<br />
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<i>Stella</i>Stellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04631437352442438101noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253940346604283147.post-68537068815547059452011-10-14T10:09:00.001-05:002011-10-14T10:11:17.898-05:00Happy Birthday To Me!<i>Ms. Patty:</i> Please join me in singing Happy Birthday to our darling feline.<br />
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Happy Birthday to you<br />
Happy Birthday to you<br />
Happy Birthday dear Chuckles...<br />
<br />
<i>Stella: </i>Ms. Patty - my name is Stella, remember? You named me.<br />
<i>Ms. Patty: </i>Oh, sorry.<br />
<i> </i><br />
Let's continue.<br />
<br />
Happy Birthday to you<br />
Happy Birthday to you<br />
Happy Birthday dear Boo Boo Stella...<br />
<br />
<i>Stella: </i>Ms. Patty - really? Are you becoming frail of mind? My name is <b>Stella</b>, remember?<br />
<i>Ms. Patty: </i>Oh, sorry, I kind of forgot.<br />
<i></i><br />
<br />
One more time, all together now.<br />
<i></i><br />
Happy Birthday to you<br />
Happy Birthday to you<br />
Happy Birthday dear Horse...<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>Stella: </i>Ms. Patty, I'm getting a bit disturbed because I don't understand why all the confusion on my name. <b>My name is Stella!</b><br />
<br />
<i>Ms. Patty:</i> I can't help it, you have so many names that have been lovingly (and sometimes not so lovingly) attributed to you that it makes it hard to choose sometimes.<br />
<br />
<i>Stella: </i>Why have you given me these names??<br />
<br />
<i>Ms. Patty: </i>Well, Chuckles came about because, um, I don't actually remember but it is a true term of affection, I promise you. As for Boo Boo Stella I think we we were playing hide-and-go-seek when I came up with that one.<br />
<br />
<i>Stella: </i>Hmmm. I can live with those two names, I suppose. But Horse?? Really??? What is that all about?<br />
<br />
<i>Ms. Patty: </i>See, you have this tendency to fly down the basement stairs at warp speed and you actually take the steps 4 at a time...<br />
<br />
<i>Stella: </i>I'm just getting my exercise and practicing running from Mr. K!!<br />
<br />
<i>Ms. Patty: </i>Let me finish. When you take those 4 steps at a time, it sounds as though you're a horse. If you were a little lighter on your feet, perhaps we could change the name to Gazelle. Would you like that better?<br />
<br />
<i>Stella: </i>Oh, please! That's beautiful!<br />
<br />
<i>Ms. Patty: </i>Then let's get to it... hey, where are you going??<br />
<br />
<i>Stella: </i>I'm downstairs, was I quieter this time?<br />
<br />
<i>Ms. Patty: </i>Not in the least, I'm afraid.<br />
<br />
<i>Stella: <sigh></i><br />
<br />
<i></i><br />
Okay, now we'll sing Happy Birthday (a belated one) to Ms. Stella properly.<br />
<br />
Happy Birthday to you!<br />
Happy Birthday to you!<br />
Happy Birthday dear Stella!!<br />
Happy Birthday to you!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqvTvl4-bXG79Qh3oK-DELqcyyy3zaNKxOn1luszgQrODqJKfJr6aqMA5q7L78svv6tYnTym8N-B_ZRVb0ytsCkysWjLDRotUIYyIbJ278r3W4u_NvebueNGQEeix3gbOMS53-EOTjyGom/s1600/Snapshot_001.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7etDG_yijOepgTMjKI8SHsZ-axm6umuva5BQBTjJXEenOV25n8xtFZb7lDFPYeL8djjuQMRCihTuS65fo5A3ipQ4Y7SiBQwYy4YIwNN5RMSFUlWzb3P4NAg-HdF-IzNHg80P1JzYBuch_/s1600/Stella+birthday.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7etDG_yijOepgTMjKI8SHsZ-axm6umuva5BQBTjJXEenOV25n8xtFZb7lDFPYeL8djjuQMRCihTuS65fo5A3ipQ4Y7SiBQwYy4YIwNN5RMSFUlWzb3P4NAg-HdF-IzNHg80P1JzYBuch_/s320/Stella+birthday.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Meow...</div><i></i>Stellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04631437352442438101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253940346604283147.post-82815677953835599902011-08-17T11:31:00.003-05:002011-08-17T11:33:23.031-05:00Summer Time<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhMKUNWZlbjyTQCtTdNawSSZHyUT14m1DyDyTxCh9xNK3-CZRPXVr5CS2GbY_oaEnkP49Hsy7bH9iBpBT2_6spBIdeFJKSV4-r-5N1Qq5LDlTh-wMYXPhyphenhyphen4sSrxyjfoVjLhcKF30WLCpXh/s1600/mosaicd3117d644c258b23fbcc776afca990309e5785b7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="470" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhMKUNWZlbjyTQCtTdNawSSZHyUT14m1DyDyTxCh9xNK3-CZRPXVr5CS2GbY_oaEnkP49Hsy7bH9iBpBT2_6spBIdeFJKSV4-r-5N1Qq5LDlTh-wMYXPhyphenhyphen4sSrxyjfoVjLhcKF30WLCpXh/s320/mosaicd3117d644c258b23fbcc776afca990309e5785b7.jpg" width="470" /></a></div><br />
Stellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04631437352442438101noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253940346604283147.post-80642599658248744682011-07-25T21:02:00.003-05:002011-07-25T21:04:39.117-05:00Escape... 'Twas So CloseHello my lovelies,<br />
<br />
A few weeks ago Ms. Patty had the back door partly open while she was talking to Mr. K who was going out to the garage. They refer to that place as a 'man cave'; which reminds me, I need to Google that and find out exactly what it means. Whatever it is, Mr. K is always happy when he comes back from there.<br />
<br />
I digress.<br />
<br />
Normally, I'm plenty happy being inside the house. But there was a breeze coming through the door and I could smell bird like you wouldn't believe. I could also smell rodent and my goodness, it's been a good long time since I've had one of those. The thought of devouring a plump, delectable mouse had me edging towards the door, ever so stealthily.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Suddenly, I realize Ms. Patty isn't paying any attention to me at all. </div><div style="text-align: center;">So...I dashed out that door right between her legs! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/knitgirl63/5976456390/" title="Stella's view just before she dashed out the door into the yard! by knitgirl63, on Flickr"><img alt="Stella's view just before she dashed out the door into the yard!" height="200" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6130/5976456390_6831193e14.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>Eureka!! I'm outside!! Look what was under the deck, it was really dusty, full of leaves and just plain dirty. Yippee! I rolled and rolled and while I could hear Ms. Patty trying to get me to come to her, I had to ignore her. <br />
<div style="text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgKterrB2nkq2HIBWH8kVEToPf1jA6FvWrCq5Sl2Ch0MVWO-g3YkIUHgQq4tEPbu19aBpiAElSFuEGU6IXDbOnNf2WXlgvT22N8nbIBHF8NCXndsonW40epX5eA0IywWwnyaxY6-mVMiMB/s1600/Stella+Under+Deck.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgKterrB2nkq2HIBWH8kVEToPf1jA6FvWrCq5Sl2Ch0MVWO-g3YkIUHgQq4tEPbu19aBpiAElSFuEGU6IXDbOnNf2WXlgvT22N8nbIBHF8NCXndsonW40epX5eA0IywWwnyaxY6-mVMiMB/s200/Stella+Under+Deck.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">This was my bliss, my nirvana!</div><br />
Then?? I hear the unmistakeable sound of my treat can being shaken - goodness, the rattle of those nom noms were calling my name. I tried to resist it, my lovelies, but I couldn't. I ran towards the noise and who has that can? Mr. K!! I start to turn back because I figure he's just trying to trick me. But where is Ms. Patty? Rats, she's right behind me! She picked me up and tossed me rather unceremoniously into the house. Sigh... no more rolling in the dust. <br />
<br />
I really shouldn't bash Mr. K too much, though he does pick on me a bit he is quite loving. He's even taken to giving me an evening treat (though not every night, I think that's Ms. Patty's rule) by putting the pieces on the corner of the table, then I jump up to get them. Here's young Mr. J learning how to give me them, isn't he cute?? He didn't pull my tail, didn't chase me...what a good little boy.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/knitgirl63/5976533946/" title="Young Mr. J giving Stella treats by knitgirl63, on Flickr"><img alt="Young Mr. J giving Stella treats" height="400" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6022/5976533946_90da4c568b_m.jpg" width="336" /></a></div><br />
Speaking of treats, it's getting to be that time. Who will fall prey to my loving nudgies tonight and be persuaded to give me treats?<br />
<br />
Ta ta,<br />
<i>Stella</i>Stellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04631437352442438101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253940346604283147.post-90570277103338700792011-07-15T14:18:00.001-05:002011-07-15T14:19:12.852-05:00Soaking Up The Sunshine<div style="text-align: left;">I've been rather lazy for the last month or so because summer has arrived, hence, no post since May. The sunshine streaming in the patio doors is just too tempting and delicious and I doze for hours between meals. And the rest of the time I'm playing with Ms. Patty and Mr. K.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoWnacIUF2Hw7dR7fxM1d6P3dd1UrfvAdxgDliBm7KsGhE5VwzZB4L-qTYIch4MSdxnhuF3CaouO5kFSko1pg4eO7_mji7B9M0ugONPqD-Tm62wBsltbZHqQ4Lb5cV2f1IIfTGlrweDwHr/s1600/IMG_8648.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoWnacIUF2Hw7dR7fxM1d6P3dd1UrfvAdxgDliBm7KsGhE5VwzZB4L-qTYIch4MSdxnhuF3CaouO5kFSko1pg4eO7_mji7B9M0ugONPqD-Tm62wBsltbZHqQ4Lb5cV2f1IIfTGlrweDwHr/s320/IMG_8648.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Mr. K teases me mercilessly but I suppose that's just what people <b><i>think</i></b> they should do to cats. And sometimes I agree. But getting 'socked'? Well, that's just downright insulting.<br />
<br />
See, once in a while before he puts his socks on, he pets me all lovingly and then he stretches that sock open and puts it on my head. Hrrmph... I never...<br />
<br />
Don't tell anyone but I got myself into a little trouble recently. Ms. Patty and Mr. K were having guests one night and were planning to serve something called pulled pork. Ms. Patty had gone grocery shopping for the party and left out some of the items the night before the party and one thing was a package of what I now know are called buns. Oh glory, those were good! <i>Purr...</i><br />
<br />
How would I know? Well, I was playing with my sparkle balls throughout the night and Ms. Patty wouldn't let me into the bedroom in the wee hours of the night. (That is so frustrating - all I want to do is say hi.)<br />
<br />
Anyway, I discovered these buns and though the packaging was quite snug I could smell them, yes, I could my darlings! And they smelled delicious! I just had to try one, just a little bit.<br />
<br />
So I nibbled a bit on one side of the packaging and then the other and I finally had success. See? Oh, never mind, I can't find the picture but I had that plastic undone in no time. <br />
<br />
Naturally, I was in trouble when Ms. Patty woke up because I guess she didn't want my germs on her buns. Oh, that didn't sound right. Well, you know what I mean. And you know what? She said she had to go buy a new bag of buns and so I thought to myself "Wonderful! I'll get to finish those buns!", but she gave them to the birds instead. The birds!! Sigh...<br />
<br />
Well, that's enough for today. I still want to tell you something about Mr. K but that will have to wait just a bit as I really need a nap.<br />
<br />
You'd like a hint? Ok. The hint is: Who is training whom?<br />
<br />
Ta ta darlings! <br />
<i>Stella</i><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcESwMq7Ni4TEqQIAqWVIq373FBkpyUu4NeNE0Bq2DuNtcB0I2eNAj_mEqFVIkGVhM9dGX_R-E-Ms12uAUFO1CywkptTJDIr2PDquGn3Vu_371Sc4LEzn3A89sWDgDgMdZulF4T2ZVuu1Q/s1600/Stella+June2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcESwMq7Ni4TEqQIAqWVIq373FBkpyUu4NeNE0Bq2DuNtcB0I2eNAj_mEqFVIkGVhM9dGX_R-E-Ms12uAUFO1CywkptTJDIr2PDquGn3Vu_371Sc4LEzn3A89sWDgDgMdZulF4T2ZVuu1Q/s320/Stella+June2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Stellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04631437352442438101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253940346604283147.post-9051886446768814742011-05-06T09:34:00.003-05:002011-05-06T09:49:06.032-05:00Change, Change, Change<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgguBhv0-m84GD0mFu-hi_eT4edTMKGosQY6Tqt25yM6sf9Pp5xTEv7wPwuiVWC6JWWGREuI1lJJhVsaP0Rc5YDP8eesOjcAEKurUr6VPj0DNfL8kgEzGvw8kfrt7AK9QVTzm_U0O9gq-Cb/s1600/Mr+K.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgguBhv0-m84GD0mFu-hi_eT4edTMKGosQY6Tqt25yM6sf9Pp5xTEv7wPwuiVWC6JWWGREuI1lJJhVsaP0Rc5YDP8eesOjcAEKurUr6VPj0DNfL8kgEzGvw8kfrt7AK9QVTzm_U0O9gq-Cb/s200/Mr+K.jpg" width="85" /></a>In my last post I mentioned that someone had begun visiting Miss Patty. This would be him. </div><br />
We'll call him Mr K. Well, now Mr K seems to think he belongs here, I mean he's *always* here... and he picks on me! Constantly. That's the truth, my darlings. And Miss Patty seems to enjoy my occasional discomfort. I'm not sure what to think of that, but for now I forgive her as she is distracted by Mr K for reasons I'm only beginning to understand; they're good ones I'm sure but still - what he does to me!<br />
<br />
A recent example of Mr K's attempts to pester me has to do with a really long pillow. Earlier this week I'd been playing all night long throughout the house and being the sun had come up I thought it was perfect timing to take a nap before breakfast. So I tried to get into the bedroom but the door was closed too securely for me to push. I've been practicing, you see. I just stand on my hind legs and reach with my forepaws and push. It worked once, I hoped it would work again, but it didn't.<br />
<br />
Well, it did sort of but not the way I expected it. The door opened but then whoosh! This huge pillow came flying out of the room near the floor and shoved me down the hallway! Well, I had never experienced such indignation before this. Mr K stepped out and grabbed the pillow and shut the door again by the time I got back to it, I was going back because I was going to give him what for! But as I was getting ready to try again to enter the room, just what do you think happened? He opened that door wide and THREW the pillow out the door at me!<br />
<br />
Grrrrr. Then to add insult to injury (figuratively speaking, that is), Mr K laughed. Uproariously, at that! I could hear Miss Patty laughing as well. At that point I chose to not talk to her for a while so that she would understand how hurt my feelings were. Meow.<br />
<br />
But then I forgot all about it because my breakfast was served at my food dispenser.<br />
<br />
Oh, my food dispenser. There's a story there as well, my sweets. Yes, Mr K thinks he's being funny and clever because he thinks I don't know what he's up to. But I can understand English when I want to. So he's talking one day about blocking the food dispenser just before it's scheduled to feed me a meal. Well, he tried that one day and he wasn't totally successful. Partly, not totally. So he doesn't get full credit for that.<br />
<br />
So, Mr K? I 'meh' in your face. And do be sure you pay attention when I'm around because revenge is a dish best served cold, with a surprisingly delicious side of fish breath. <br />
<br />
Well, I should be honest and state that he's not trying to annoy me ALL of the time. He does pet me when I walk all over him and enjoys playing with me. For instance, one day Miss Patty had opened the linen closet and I walked in there to check things out because she'd tidied it up. Plus it smells good so I wanted to do some sniffing around in there. She took out what she needed and as she went into the bathroom Mr K walked by and shut the door.<br />
<br />
<i>Miss Patty: "Oh, I thought I'd shut that, thanks." </i><br />
<i>Mr K: "You left it open because Stella is in there." </i><br />
<i>Miss Patty: "Ah, I see." </i><br />
<br />
<b>Pause... </b>Miss Patty tilted her head realizing he said 'is in there' - is not was<br />
<br />
<i>Mr K: "Can you hand me a couple of tissues?" </i><br />
<i>Miss Patty: "Sure." </i><br />
<br />
<b>Pause... </b>Miss Patty knows now that something is up and thinks, uh oh <br />
<br />
<i>Miss Patty: "Um, what are you doing on the floor?" </i><br />
<i>Mr K: "Watch."</i><br />
<br />
<br />
Mr K proceeded to spend a good amount of time sneaking the tissue underneath the door to tempt me to snatch it away from him. I sometimes got it but for the most part I was teasing him and playing hard to get. Eventually, he tired of playing with me and went to do something else. Then Miss Patty came and opened the door (because Mr K conveniently forgot to open it to let me out). But when she did I realized I was quite comfy right where I was and stayed there for a while. See? <br />
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<br />
Well, spring has kind of arrived here at Chez Change, finally. Which is quite nice since it's been cold and dreary and winter-like for far too long.<br />
<br />
A week or two ago Miss Patty performed a great service for me - because I'm sure it was done just for me - by putting in all the screens in the windows so I can sit in them! Often I sit in one and then think I would have a better view from another so I scamper over to it, then I see a bird fly over the house and whoosh, I need to cruise to another window in the house to see it come over the other side (by the way, that doesn't work)!! I nearly flew through one screen one time because I was so excited - I could hear the bird but not see it. But the screen held.<br />
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Lucky for the bird.<br />
<i>Meow...</i> <br />
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I've gotten bored again with my toys. But for Easter Miss Patty bought some candy and stuff for an Easter basket. There were two eggs in that basket that she placed in water and let the chicks 'hatch'. Once the chicks came out of their shells and the water Miss Patty placed them on the little table by the kitchen window. The other day I was entering the kitchen from the living room and happened to see them. High up on the table, bright yellow! Two of them!! Do I dare jump up and check them out? I do. I did.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_u5yJ-xUP1LewuwxkdXUv6y6VaMb5PDpxmXkeL-3lWt00RzX7tblimXJLj6DnDlNZ6Fo1_YpG-6BSDLpEQeB7khpFHSVonDOj9IGsXvtucpCkPxBJ0zef236G32DyiLEHQfoY7ZJb_wHA/s1600/Chicks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_u5yJ-xUP1LewuwxkdXUv6y6VaMb5PDpxmXkeL-3lWt00RzX7tblimXJLj6DnDlNZ6Fo1_YpG-6BSDLpEQeB7khpFHSVonDOj9IGsXvtucpCkPxBJ0zef236G32DyiLEHQfoY7ZJb_wHA/s320/Chicks.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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I picked one up with my teeth, jumped back down to the floor and began to knock it around. I even bumped it down the basement stairs - grand fun because it bounced!<br />
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I've been watching the birds on the deck again, the finches and chickadees are especially fun to make chrrr noises at (I know the sound I make is odd but I canNOT control myself!). They're so beautiful and I think probably quite tasty but I won't even find that out for sure as Miss Patty won't let me go outside. But I do have a rather large sliding door to view out of along with a lot of windows so I'm okay. Besides, I have to stay close by so I don't miss a meal.<br />
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Enjoy your day, my lovelies!<br />
<br />
<i>Stella </i><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRdm_CyABRSXibAJ8WFuDFGXRjVhXCemAnvePhAtld1VJblmyyaQo0Xl3njzQ-5nxX4d7cCgu0cu_Vx9TFpb6UGhES1R4w9GF44rpRJ-oXP7-tq-jSZidHjtlvF9yKfeNd-h65bJYdCox_/s1600/Stella.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRdm_CyABRSXibAJ8WFuDFGXRjVhXCemAnvePhAtld1VJblmyyaQo0Xl3njzQ-5nxX4d7cCgu0cu_Vx9TFpb6UGhES1R4w9GF44rpRJ-oXP7-tq-jSZidHjtlvF9yKfeNd-h65bJYdCox_/s320/Stella.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>Stellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04631437352442438101noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253940346604283147.post-16480469542395252922011-04-02T22:09:00.007-05:002011-04-04T08:09:30.435-05:00Spring Is In The Air<div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">First of all you'll notice that I'm now referring to 'Mistress' as 'Ms. Patty'. Mistress just sounded, well, like something the National Catquirer would attempt to capitalize on, and as you all know I love my food and I respect who feeds me so I'll do what I can to make her happy. </span></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">Speaking of which, </span><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">Ms. Patty hasn’t been paying a whole lot of attention to me lately so I’ve been pretty much on my own. Which at first was quite fun and beneficial to my toy collection. What she doesn't realize is that I've been hiding my toys all over the house during the day, ultimately tricking her into giving me more when I would try to get her to play with me; when she's distracted I can get most anything from her. Then at night I was batting them all over the place and hiding them again and getting more toys and extra treats from her. Now I'm getting bored.</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">See, most of Ms. Patty's attention seems to be for this human who has been hanging around of late. A rather large human who happens to be of the male species. Hmmm. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of him at first. But he’s growing on me because he likes me, he <u>really</u> likes me. Well, then again what's not to like, right? <i>Purrrrrr...</i></span></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">Anyway, I've been showing off to this new guy and getting him to play with and pet me. He likes how my fur feels - I do take good care of myself as a Princess should - and tries to imitate my meowing. Key word my darlings, 'tries'. But I'll give him an A for effort because it's fun to play with him. <i>Meow...</i></span></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">He even tried to trick me one day into thinking he had a flashlight that he was shining under the door so that I would go after the beam of light. And though I knew what he was up to I decided to let him think he was the smart one. But then I got him with my whole arm under the door. Hehehe. He wasn't expecting that. Gotcha, my darling.</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">So it's been fun. Until this morning. I ate my breakfast and was playing around and suddenly I wasn't feeling so good. So I did a rather un-ladylike thing and well, let's just say my breakfast didn't stay down. I thought Ms. Patty would give me more food because I was feeling pretty good after I did that. But alas, she did not. Though she did give me some kitty treats a few hours later - I nearly bit off her finger eating one of them (I'm sorry, Ms. Patty!) because I was starving. </span></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">Oh, there a couple of things that Ms. Patty has been doing to me a LOT of late, and I'm occasionally annoyed by it and let her know. And other times I know she means well so I let it go by with just a little 'look'. </span></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">I've been known to give Ms. Patty a little love bite, you know just a little nibble when we're playing. I only mean good intentions but she doesn't always like it and do you know what she started to tell me?? </span></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">"Stella, don't bite the hand that programs your auto feeder!"</span></i></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">Wow, I'm so not going to do that too much anymore, food is very important to me, my darlings! </span></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">Then the other thing is that I've noticed all sorts of beautiful birds just outside our dining room lately and they get me so excited I start to chirp/chatter/grrr all at the same time. Well, Ms. Patty seems to think it's funny when I'm just lying there minding my own business in my cat bed by the patio doors to say <i>"BIRD!" </i>quite loudly. I get so excited that I jump up to look and then when I realize she's fibbing, I just *have* to give her the un-ladylike stink eye and growl. I know that's horrible but I simply cannot help myself.</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">Well, that's all for now my sweets. Though I have included a few gratuitous pictures for your viewing pleasure.<i> Meow...</i></span></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Affectionately yours,</i></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Stella</i></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i> </i> </div><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span></span>Stellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04631437352442438101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253940346604283147.post-28069484904305075712011-03-06T10:15:00.003-06:002011-04-04T08:40:10.388-05:00I Do So Love My Life<div class="MsoNormal">When I started this blog I knew the title had to say I was addicted to humans. Well, that’s still true (just ask Ms. Patty) but I’m also addicted to food. Oh, you knew that already. Hmm.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Well, Ms. Patty decided to buy something called a programmable food dispenser. I’m still not sure why because she’s always there to feed me. Anyway, three times a day food comes shooting into a bowl attached to it. Oh, if this isn’t a wondrous thing I don’t know what is. One day I decided to see if I could get food out of it when it wasn’t time for it. Just for giggles, you know?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><i>Insert comment from </i></b>Ms. Patty<i><b>:</b> “Just for giggles? Right. More like you’re a little piggy girl and will do anything for a snack!”</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Excuse me, Ms. Patty? This is my tale. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Anyhoo, I tried to sneak food out of it by bumping it but nothing happened. Then I tried to stick my snout up into the opening, still nothing. Then what do you think I did? I used a paw to reach inside. Which paw? Correct! The right one because I’m…say it with me now…right pawed. Meow!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So what do you think happened? Oh glory days, out came a few pieces of food! I glanced around to see if Ms. Patty was watching and she wasn’t, so I snarfed those down. Then I tried again, eureka! More treats came out! I ate those, too.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIBxGbj0VQGUmtejOorHqyzLhwHwmMFWTVqWYtfHwlp54QJBm8G_uQEd1eUhAoZmkR12EoivcmcAT3YLJJu7X5vwrRXng8mIv77gINsMaMYBIjRNai8gQD_Ja8729qWiYwVkecfmGWIXXw/s1600/Food+dispenser+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmuoGXSwVH2RN6uvg56AMr7oeiBF92RCGncQTE45g2jNbKGvLQYW5EPVVRpdmOFgSUUtIdgxDdR3FbNVGrBFQqShlHWL5FTv7023H3cjSilSmxUGxbDC_OsPpvPAXIDDKdEeZFT33aZCJO/s1600/Food+dispenser+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmuoGXSwVH2RN6uvg56AMr7oeiBF92RCGncQTE45g2jNbKGvLQYW5EPVVRpdmOFgSUUtIdgxDdR3FbNVGrBFQqShlHWL5FTv7023H3cjSilSmxUGxbDC_OsPpvPAXIDDKdEeZFT33aZCJO/s320/Food+dispenser+5.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFKq-rQfyjU0rGPYkHajjOIw8sHhqM1cpy3ARgVkh4KNmeGx2geKgfG1ZWLHNdKQ749Kr7nwwbdXTIyuu6kmIF5Wv6eH813lXYxSoWnuGFs4VvrkW6RHHGKIqmNXCmJyhkGZJnDW8hyphenhyphenEEP/s1600/Food+dispenser+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal">Suddenly, I hear footsteps. I want so badly to try again and not even because I was hungry but because I wanted to see if I could do it again. I’m torn between her catching me and not catching me. But I had to try again, the treats came out and Ms. Patty was right there, I backed away from the feeder really fast in hopes she wouldn't see. But I can tell I wasn't successful. Uh oh. I’m in trouble again. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIBxGbj0VQGUmtejOorHqyzLhwHwmMFWTVqWYtfHwlp54QJBm8G_uQEd1eUhAoZmkR12EoivcmcAT3YLJJu7X5vwrRXng8mIv77gINsMaMYBIjRNai8gQD_Ja8729qWiYwVkecfmGWIXXw/s1600/Food+dispenser+6.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIBxGbj0VQGUmtejOorHqyzLhwHwmMFWTVqWYtfHwlp54QJBm8G_uQEd1eUhAoZmkR12EoivcmcAT3YLJJu7X5vwrRXng8mIv77gINsMaMYBIjRNai8gQD_Ja8729qWiYwVkecfmGWIXXw/s320/Food+dispenser+6.jpg" width="298" /></a><br />
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<br />
Ms. Patty: <i>“Stella! What are you doing?!?”</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">Me: Um, nothing.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Ms. Patty:<i> “Do you really need to do that? Don’t I feed you enough?”</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">Me: Um, sure??</div><div class="MsoNormal">Ms. Patty: <i>“Out, out, out of the kitchen, now!”</i><br />
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So there I sat on the rug just outside the kitchen, acting all cool about what had happened but really I was staring at my new feeder waiting for IT to feed me again, which it finally did at dinner time. Nummers…</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmHo1UZhoH9fKo4gH9GvVPTSYlOteyzZmw7MYzTTq3TE8ZU4mslSyB1n6G5Z4aOOZVrbNaRDB2mDnu_dH_VBD1GNy9ItyWL_z-Z_3I8PmmJQUrL4Jdmr7A3u1bgvJ2PYxjQZlFlvkB1jeo/s1600/Waiting+for+food.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmHo1UZhoH9fKo4gH9GvVPTSYlOteyzZmw7MYzTTq3TE8ZU4mslSyB1n6G5Z4aOOZVrbNaRDB2mDnu_dH_VBD1GNy9ItyWL_z-Z_3I8PmmJQUrL4Jdmr7A3u1bgvJ2PYxjQZlFlvkB1jeo/s320/Waiting+for+food.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGklA6JJNkC2JwUptmlfKkRLAXlDYHWOETuS80L5nMzmcJCW-CpUDRds60Mw3r1TFCdLU76v-x515NIdc46c2_wIC2VvuKleo2ErI6PCqE5p2nOgAxkVBos3RrpEFzLrxVp_5-ZfB0ZvlW/s1600/Waiting+for+food.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div></div><div class="MsoNormal">A day or so later Ms. Patty comes home with a smile on her face, she’s had her hair done with a new color and it’s so pretty and it smells really good. No, I don’t want to eat her hair but I do want to touch it because it looks so soft. She is trying to take a picture for her hairstylist, Andrew, because he did such a nice job and she wants him to be able to brag and show off because he’s going to be famous one day. So we, er, she may as well be able to say she knew him when and send him a picture. I decided I wanted in on this endeavor, see what I mean? She didn't see I had done that until after she took the picture. I'm so sneaky...meow.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzP3j5Ri1An_9FlwXyWoMrJDlksD6nDUvwP-DMgRRyaENxcSdFyxCYNwGpALi3Gg6E9tv6hsEOHdQ3gv7LgBmyGz_hImA2Ks2QCiniIP-E9Igdp2JIhk8TILp-95wOFI_mgKeGEz2pjdJ3/s1600/Stella+and+Patty2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzP3j5Ri1An_9FlwXyWoMrJDlksD6nDUvwP-DMgRRyaENxcSdFyxCYNwGpALi3Gg6E9tv6hsEOHdQ3gv7LgBmyGz_hImA2Ks2QCiniIP-E9Igdp2JIhk8TILp-95wOFI_mgKeGEz2pjdJ3/s320/Stella+and+Patty2.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDLlImzqkDs-HUyA5NJAiK1YkLwkMIegXhNQarNzN-NOjpBYs166E9CvqLiE3VX1WmHvR0zo_XdUVGMbGiFki0b5eKgiI9cPELVZrJbtk5gFbCappUrbKbRvtZmeU6w7lcX5i1gaKDRi0s/s1600/Stella+and+Patty2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnEvdA_pra6l-MDsWvrfRvKXc_uORm8S4Ee1bKpF15fDqHj1bnpJv36qYt5moGWbYEB8Hz8SIzcs70w-4reiR-aFmGi4Uj0v88Mxvq9QiInSTa-4s3lsyKDj6q1IsGWqnKhAN75E-o1Xj5/s1600/Stella+and+Patty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div></div><div class="MsoNormal">A week or so after the picture taking event Ms. Patty had company over for a potluck and campfire. It was quite a fun time, all these people ‘accidentally’ dropping food for me. Not to mention the fact that I was being petted ALL the time and played with. Ms. Pattywas constantly worried that I would run outside anytime the door was opened but why in the world would I when there were at least a half dozen people inside nearly all the time, and at one point there were about 12 people! I’m not stupid, sister, I know where to be. It was a grand time and I only tried to get up on the food table once…that Ms. Patty knows of. But my god-mother, Ruth, caught me. Whoops, can’t pull a fast one on that girl. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Well, it’s past time for my second nap of the day.Toodles, everyone!</div>Stellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04631437352442438101noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253940346604283147.post-35267228123695889632011-02-08T11:10:00.003-06:002011-04-02T20:50:40.529-05:00Busy, Busy, BusyMy heartfelt apologies to my loyal followers for not posting since last month. Ms. Patty hasn't given me as much computer time as of late, something about looking for a job in order to feed me. Well, as I adore edible goodies, who am I to argue?<br />
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I have been busy myself, adjusting to my new home especially late into the night. I've been here a little over three months and I keep discovering nooks and crannies to explore, thought it's a relatively small home. I've also tried sleeping in a lot of different places, no real favorites yet. Unless, you count sleeping on top of Ms. Patty - though she doesn't like it as much so we need to come to an agreement on what works best for both of us. I'm sure I'll win. Ohh, that was catty, wasn't it? Meow!<br />
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One of the things I discovered in our house is the garbage can. It can really tempt me while Ms. Patty has been cooking. She throws away meat wrappers without letting me lick them, I truly am aghast at that. What a waste, all those juices...gone. Sigh.<br />
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But never fear, I'm nothing if not creative, even if by accident. You see, one day I realized that if I stood up on my hind legs and reached up with my right arm (remember, that's the strong one as I'm right-pawed), I could tip the garbage over and get into all that goodness! The first thing I found was some smelly things I think she called onions. Yuck. I kept digging and found some coffee grounds, double yuck.<br />
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But then I found this lovely package wrapping for what used to be something called bacon. I had not heard of that before but oh my, I was really enjoying myself licking the package when I heard her footsteps. Uh oh. Lick, lick, lick...hurry, get all I can before she takes it away! Faster! Faster! Phooey, there's still some left on the package but she grabs it away from me.<br />
<br />
Ms. Patty: "Stella! What have you gotten into?"<br />
Me: <i>I would think that's pretty obvious.</i><br />
Ms. Patty: "Looks like we'll have to get a different garbage can, one you can't get into."<br />
Me: <i>Sigh.</i><br />
<br />
So the next thing you know Ms. Patty goes out and buys this metal-like thing with a lid I can't poke open, it's too heavy to tip and I can't smell a thing! Oh well, I am trying to watch my waistline so it's better this way. Most of the time. I'm lucky though because you know what? I found where she stashes some treats, don't tell her!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinoDzucKzJMw7hCw4EZPtUAx_h84qpuqZpQYvcEOOYbqzzWXYvJfNJdOWY0ghdWJWBPp4eSl75JdomfW38jizpD01K70Fwuj_rUpkpl1Dv6Xm_YPZbL3niLD7B2HKkFyi4bhWjBcx20xZ5/s1600/Stella+Closet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinoDzucKzJMw7hCw4EZPtUAx_h84qpuqZpQYvcEOOYbqzzWXYvJfNJdOWY0ghdWJWBPp4eSl75JdomfW38jizpD01K70Fwuj_rUpkpl1Dv6Xm_YPZbL3niLD7B2HKkFyi4bhWjBcx20xZ5/s320/Stella+Closet.jpg" width="287" /></a></div><br />
What else? I know, I've been helping her shred paper which for some reason Ms. Patty calls "Pulp Fascination." I don't know what pulp is but anyway, the first time I tore up a receipt she wasn't very happy but for some reason now she finds it amusing. And I get to destroy something WITH permission. Although I don't have a picture of me shredding something in a lady-like way, I'm sorry about that. I only have one that's a tad blurry because she startled me tearing up that receipt. I even bared my teeth but I made sure to apologize to her later. I still need to eat, you know?<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_JhXlEG4aWrSNUg6y2HPTKFJtdQ8RYJRRaUtT9RR44XHihsm5snkI-HCo-xP35GuU1JRY-_5bqSARLY3NWANAjp4h6AGQsagFZhUI6yYGkd7JdxmBebRTcFH9fb8b9yL4_PtPQle445OL/s1600/Receipt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="313" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_JhXlEG4aWrSNUg6y2HPTKFJtdQ8RYJRRaUtT9RR44XHihsm5snkI-HCo-xP35GuU1JRY-_5bqSARLY3NWANAjp4h6AGQsagFZhUI6yYGkd7JdxmBebRTcFH9fb8b9yL4_PtPQle445OL/s320/Receipt.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Ms. Patty has taken a few other humorous pictures of me which I suppose I could share. I've taken to playing between the shower curtain liner and the tub. See, the shower curtain is outside the tub, then I'm inside the tub inside the liner. I then jump up at the curtain to see if I can make her laugh when she comes in. I sometimes simply hang over the tub edge because it's so comfy. A really cool thing though, is chasing my sparkle balls around the tub. They look like little balls of tinsel and they really fly!<br />
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Here I am in the tub and following that is a picture of me trying to rest after playing but Ms. Patty insisted on taking my picture even though I wasn't looking my prettiest. I still love her, she feeds me so how could I not?<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhuBvM5Jx15zP3RvyjBgOXevuYLDVlHcYZzUIzGwpW87zaKEz6hUEIMzG8msBayAYrr0eW2sfBAs3vRrQXDN9QkcErtt6F0EHADedBo1I8iYvaxeaQNMpRSOdkQNshBwKm3zYMTm_QeVzt/s1600/Stella+Bathtub+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhuBvM5Jx15zP3RvyjBgOXevuYLDVlHcYZzUIzGwpW87zaKEz6hUEIMzG8msBayAYrr0eW2sfBAs3vRrQXDN9QkcErtt6F0EHADedBo1I8iYvaxeaQNMpRSOdkQNshBwKm3zYMTm_QeVzt/s320/Stella+Bathtub+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS7Du1G1NPVd0blGg5y_V7XDRPHGviF_NVKL7DuyZgNjDc3_jUk4ujLHg5p9Zz4J9dDnx1Sr01jU5Pqw-xI3lm2EinxZWKpNXW_qlr9LGLSRzUPPx2jvzZM2Srn7sIUvl364T2VJm77_8A/s1600/Stella+Bed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS7Du1G1NPVd0blGg5y_V7XDRPHGviF_NVKL7DuyZgNjDc3_jUk4ujLHg5p9Zz4J9dDnx1Sr01jU5Pqw-xI3lm2EinxZWKpNXW_qlr9LGLSRzUPPx2jvzZM2Srn7sIUvl364T2VJm77_8A/s320/Stella+Bed.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Stay warm, my darlings!Stellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04631437352442438101noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253940346604283147.post-42820283478660567912011-01-11T18:55:00.002-06:002011-04-04T08:35:09.594-05:00Pssst....I Have a SecretI have to confess - I have a secret. Some would say that technically I have five secrets but the way I look at you say TOmato, I say toMAto. The point is I really would like to tell you about some lovely little kittens I am personally acquainted with before the National Catquirer spills the details.<br />
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Last year I was just a young feline out playing in the sunshine of a lovely Minnesota summer day. I was so innocent, truly I was. I would sprawl on the lawn looking through the blades of grass trying to find some mice to chase. Or I'd hide beneath the deck and peer out to see the bird feeder and attempt to catch the little birdies when they flitted to the ground to get seeds that spilled. I wasn't too good that.<br />
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One day I came running around a corner and nearly slammed into another cat. Specifically, a big tom named Rocky. I'd heard about him and his exploits around the neighborhood but I was sure it was just a reputation, nothing more. He was so handsome I nearly started to drool. But instead we both froze in place our tails getting bigger by the nano-second, our backs arching up like dinosaurs. He meowed low at me a few times and then then he walked a little closer to me...yowza!<br />
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Was I captivated by his charm and his good looks? Probably, because all I could think about was his reputation and boy, just that moment of inattentiveness and my guard was down. Whoops.<br />
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So 60 some days later I'm at Oak Knoll Animal Hospital having been brought there by the police. That's a story for another day. Suffice it to say they discovered I was pregnant. Oh dear, that darn Rocky, and here I thought I was getting fat from all the mice I caught. Silly me.<br />
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They checked my belly with some big machine thing and figured I would have 3, maybe 4 kittens but I surprised them all and had five! I was at the hospital for a bit before I had them and then I went home with one of the employees (such a sweetheart, she spoiled me so much!), who cared for me until I gave birth on September 8, 2010, and then through the weaning process. That wasn't as bad as I thought it would be because I really loved my babies.<br />
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Pictures? Ms. Patty took some, I don't know all of their names and the ones I do know I'm not sure if I'm spelling them right but they're so darn cute, who cares? <i>You can see the pictures larger if you just click on them.</i><br />
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The Twins - They love to wrestle together and then they snooze all spoon-like. <br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/knitgirl63/5086029933/" title="Wrestling Was Hard Work, Spooning Is Easier by knitgirl63, on Flickr"><img alt="Wrestling Was Hard Work, Spooning Is Easier" height="180" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4084/5086029933_489a2700c8_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
Blackie - He was totally black when he was born and then little white hairs started to sprout out all over! I adore his eyes, don't you?<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/knitgirl63/5086030353/" title="Blackie by knitgirl63, on Flickr"><img alt="Blackie" height="205" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4147/5086030353_369a84de39_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
Lily - My beautiful, darling only daughter. She's so pretty she takes my breath away. Sigh...<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/knitgirl63/5086030273/" title="The Twins, Blackie and Lilly resting on Mama Stella by knitgirl63, on Flickr"><img alt="The Twins, Blackie and Lilly resting on Mama Stella" height="240" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4133/5086030273_74ed252bef_m.jpg" width="221" /></a></div><br />
Harley - He is a rambunctious one and has so much personality. When Ms. Patty visited us at the hospital he walked right up her arm and looked her directly in the eye. Then he tilted his head one way, she tilted hers the same, then he tilted it the other way and she did too. Silly Ms. Patty, doesn't she know he was teasing her?<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/knitgirl63/5086627518/" title="Harley - doing the head tilt. by knitgirl63, on Flickr"><img alt="Harley - doing the head tilt." height="240" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4126/5086627518_f423875e65_m.jpg" width="238" /></a></div><br />
Here they are with me right after the birthday party. They look like little rats, don't they? But they were so good and I had fun with them. But now I have fun all on my own with Ms. Patty. I do wish I knew how they were doing so if any of my kids get a chance to read my blog, please do let me know how you're all doing.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/knitgirl63/4990204160/" title="365:48 by knitgirl63, on Flickr"><img alt="365:48" height="180" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4089/4990204160_b08ed65539_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
Love you, my darlings!<br />
<br />
P.S. to the National Catquirer - say all you want but I'm not ashamed and you'd be better off chasing down that naughty girl, Co-Co. Now SHE has some dirt you'd want!!Stellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04631437352442438101noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253940346604283147.post-66666646621041050942011-01-05T17:07:00.002-06:002011-04-04T08:32:39.494-05:00The Temptation of It AllAfter nudging Ms. Patty on her cheek this morning to wake her up, she gives me my breakfast and then goes back to bed. Unusual, but it was chilly in the house so maybe that's why. Anyway, I finish my breakfast and start to prowl around the house as it gets gradually lighter outside.<br />
<br />
Our routine in the morning is torture, pure torture for me. Ms. Patty opens the blinds on the windows in the living room, then the kitchen, then the dining room and then finally - finally! - she feeds me. <br />
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Today this additional light was to my benefit. Of what do I speak? Well, see the picture below? That is the edge of a package of Temptations kitty treats. Awesome name, yes? I was just giddy with excitement when I saw it but I had to keep quiet.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/knitgirl63/5328596402/" title="Temptations by knitgirl63, on Flickr"><img alt="Temptations" height="348" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5123/5328596402_d4fc23fdca.jpg" width="236" /></a></div><br />
Well, I had already tried to open this package myself one day to no avail. You can see a couple of the teeth marks on the edge. Ms. Patty usually keeps these in the food cupboard but I guess she forgot to put them away. I reached up with my right paw as it's the stronger one and worked at it to get it closer to me. Closer, closer...on the floor it went. Success! Wait, the package still isn't open so I guess not, just yet.But I'm nothing if not determined.<br />
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I chew and I chew and I chew some more. I still can't get this opened but I am getting little, tiny pieces of the food to come out! Eventually, I am successful by tossing the package around and around letting pieces get shaken out onto the carpeting everywhere! Oh, rapture! I'm nearly swooning - can you just imagine it?<br />
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I eat until my tummy is full and then I go into the bedroom where Ms. Patty is still sleeping. I jump up on the bed and proceed to snuggle in by the crook of her knees and promptly fall asleep. By the way, no matter what Ms. Patty tells you - I do NOT snore. I hum. There is a difference.<br />
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A little while later Ms. Patty wakes up and goes into the bathroom, then into the dining room. That's when I heard her screech and then yell, "Stella!"<br />
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Uh oh. What did I do? What did I DO?? My toys are always everywhere so it can't be that. Hmmm.<br />
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I slowly walk in behind her and her eyes are bugged out but she's got a grin (so I must be sort of safe). I look around and see the treats waiting for me later in the day, scattered on the carpeting. What's the problem? It's easier than waiting for her to feed me, right?<br />
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<i>"Where's the package, Stella?"</i><br />
<br />
Oh. That. So it IS a problem. Oops.<br />
<br />
Then she walks to the little closet by the front door and brings out the monster, I believe it's called a vacuum but I call it a monster because it makes a horrifically loud noise! She plugs it in and comes into the dining room. Oh no, she isn't. Is she? Please, don't do it, Ms. Patty!<br />
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She vacuums up the dining room carpet. All my treat crumbles for the day are gone. Gone! Oh, woe is me. <br />
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Then she finds the package and she can see that I was successful in getting the treats out (<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>see the picture below as proof!</i></span>), but rather than her telling me I was a good girl, she throws the package away. Then tells me "No food until dinner, Stella". Gulp. I realize that's a really long time from now - so I stand up on my hind legs and place my little paws on her leg, hoping for some sympathy.<br />
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I got nothing. Except she tells me I am going to pay for this because<i> "what goes in must come out, Stella"</i>. I'm not sure what that means but perhaps I'll let you know when I figure it out. In the meantime, I'm feeling a bit tired so I'm off for a nap.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/knitgirl63/5327984899/" title="After the fact by knitgirl63, on Flickr"><img alt="After the fact" height="348" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5004/5327984899_dbeaef86ac.jpg" width="236" /></a></div>Stellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04631437352442438101noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253940346604283147.post-33215920298596038232011-01-04T18:12:00.003-06:002011-04-04T08:30:49.815-05:00Welcome To My Cat HouseAllow me to introduce myself. My name is Stella and I was adopted November 5, 2010 by a lovely woman who goes by the name of, well, let's call her Ms. Patty.<br />
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I am a short-haired, domestic cat with a tortoise shell coloring, mostly brown. I have gold eyes and a swanky walk. I use that to attract the attention of Ms. Patty because what does it get me? Food! Most of the time that works but she's catching on to me. I'm not sure if it's that she's less busy so she remembers when she's fed me or what, but I do need to come up with another strategy as I do so love my food.<br />
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I also love Ms. Patty and the affection she gives me. I do whatever I can to get more petting and play time. She has given me all these lovely toys; my favorite is the mouse. Oooh, who doesn't love a mouse?? It sometimes makes a noise, sort of a rumble (Ms. Patty refers to it as a remote mouse, I'm not very techi so I'll take her word for it). But I like it better when it's quiet, I snatch it up by its tail and carry on to my recliner or into my carrier and bat it around.<br />
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I also have this gold and black striped toy, looks like a huge tail. It smells really good and I love to play with that one, my feet just start clutching at it like I'm running a marathon, and then I get all calm and relaxed. You know what else is fun? Straws. Yes, just a simple straw. See, I like to chew. A lot. And straws are awesome to chew on, plus they're lightweight so I can carry them everywhere and leave them in unexpected places for Ms. Patty to find. Like a boot - that was so funny - she thought she stepped on a spider!!<br />
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Oh, about the title of my blog, being addicted to humans? Ms. Patty chose that and I'm still trying to understand why. Just because I need to be on the same floor of the house as her within earshot (and preferably where I can see her) or because I drool, I mean, kiss her in the morning on her neck to wake her up, doesn't mean I'm addicted to humans. Sheesh. I think it's a sweet sign of my love for her that I want to be around her so much. Don't you?<br />
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Well, I'm going to sign off for now and leave you with a picture of moi. It's not my favorite but it will do for now. Ta ta, darlings!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0prWUbunGQs8ThypVkID_lGJZ6Jk4Ckxm-YsBYHPfkMH5A_cTB3bgj5Dt__Ep4-9XLO3Xhh7ER-fD3bA5g2gOpYlZQJ3SspT_R3RQiCF2xVl2TX1d9Mniq8nnnrSQ4LVpVFNa_h3RBwxU/s1600/Stella+for+blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0prWUbunGQs8ThypVkID_lGJZ6Jk4Ckxm-YsBYHPfkMH5A_cTB3bgj5Dt__Ep4-9XLO3Xhh7ER-fD3bA5g2gOpYlZQJ3SspT_R3RQiCF2xVl2TX1d9Mniq8nnnrSQ4LVpVFNa_h3RBwxU/s320/Stella+for+blog.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Stellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04631437352442438101noreply@blogger.com0