A brief look at the furry members of my fam (short for family, in case you didn't know). Currently, apartment living has only allowed us (husband and myself) to adopt feline members into our family (although sometime in the future we will find a nice place that allows dogs! Somedayyyyyy!), but that's not a problem, since I'm probably a little more of a cat person than a dog person. Don't get me wrong! I absolutely adore dogs and very much want to get one (eventually two). However, my early childhood (heck, from the moment I was born and all the time since) was spent around mostly cats. I remember thinking as a kid when my parents finally went and adopted a dog, how many cats we could've gotten for the dog's purchase price (I think I figured we could've gotten 7 cats for what we spent to get the dog, but I was probably way off).
Me: "But mommmmm! If we don't get a dog, we can get seven more cats!"
Mom: "Not happening."
But we all know how cute puppies can be, and that led me to be an equal-opportunity pet-lover! For now though, it's the husband, me and our two kitties.
Named after characters from one of our favorite movies (The Goonies), we have Chester Copperpot (the large orange tabby) and Rosalita (the small grey tabby). We adopted Chester first and a few years later added Rosy to the mix.
Chester's a lot more sedate than Rosy. He's one of those cats that never seems to open his eyes all the way (always almond-shaped or squinty). It's always as if he's giving me a look that says (in a tired old man voice), "Oy, what are you crazy food-givers up to now?"
That's the look. Granted, I was taking a picture of him from under our glass table, which is a bit odd. In the awesome book "The cat who went to Paris" by Peter Gethers (required reading for all cat-lovers!), as his cat is getting all sorts of attention, author Peter describes the look as his cat thinking, "well, this is just the price I have to pay for being me."
Chester is also the master of the stiff-arm when you pick him up. *BAM! Right to your sternum. "Don't pick me up. If you must adore me, adore me on my own terms!" If you don't get the hint, he likes to dig his one snaggletooth into your arm, like this:
They never scratch or bite, but Chester gives mean snaggletooth pressure.
Rosy is the more lively, younger one who often has eyes the size of dinnerplates. If she's not sleepy, she always looks like she's thinking, "what the heck is going on here?!?" She also has her own tumbling maneuver that we've named "The Rosy Roll." Here you can see Chester being unimpressed by Rosy's floorwork.
Chester: *Sigh. What are you doing now?
And a close-up of the Rosy Roll:
She also is the first farting cat I've ever had. The vet is helping us work on that, but currently Rosy is the master of the "silent but deadly" variety.
But luckily they tolerate each other (loving each other may be a little much to ask right now, but they do play with each other and don't get in fights) and coexist peacefully. Even though they have to share the bed (you'll notice that this is also MY bed. My husband and I apparently get the top 2/3rds of it)!
"You'd better not make me look stupid on your blog, you got that?"
My version of Chester as Furry Potter, lolcats-style.
"*Siiiiigh. I don't know why you humans find this so amusing."
This photo of my cat, Cupcake, sums up exactly how I'm feeling right now. Sooooo tired. That's what happens when your neighbor is up till all hours playing Michael Jackson music.
Cupcake thinks the Portland Public Library card is good enough to eat!
Cupcake with three of my most recent library books: the "just published" one, the "I'd love to learn about this for free" one, and the "this author sounds interesting. I'll try him" one!
This is what happens when my husband and I try to cook. Can you tell what's wrong with this picture? Yes, it's a pizza that looks like an ear. Ear pizza. Sound appetizing? Yeah, not so much. We couldn't get the dough to spread in a circular fashion, so when we popped it in the oven, we thought, "bah, who cares? So the crust'll look like a lima bean. No problem." Little did we know that during the cooking process, our bean pizza would slowly morph into "The Van Gogh Special." Doesn't really make your mouth water, does it? Especially with the earwax-colored grease on the pineapple section. Ewwww. Looks like it came off of a boxer's head (we shoulda put some cauliflower on it. Get it? Cauliflower ear?...It's funny. Trust me). It did taste fine, however, and once we sliced it up it looked a lot more appetizing.
I'll leave you with a few cute photos. Here's Chester looking all festive with a pile of mini pumpkins.
And the three all getting along on their new cat post. I call it the tower of power. We've got Chester at the top, Cupcake on the next, and Rosalita hanging out in the hidey-hole. Glad they're all getting along! They don't mind our cooking (granted, their food comes straight out of bags and cans, but still)!
This has also led to another nickname for her: Kitten Mitten!
and lastly the top. The top is a favorite amongst all of the cats, but Chester fits inside it perfectly. He didn't really use our old one as much because he was too big and had to sleep with his legs hanging out all over. Now he can curl up and rule over his kingdom with a view of everything!
Our benevolent ruler, Chester Copperpot.
Our happy feline household: Chester Copperpot on top, Rosalita on the old post in back, and Cupcake crawling out of the hidey-hole.
A brief look at the furry members of my fam (short for family, in case you didn't know). Currently, apartment living has only allowed us (husband and myself) to adopt feline members into our family (although sometime in the future we will find a nice place that allows dogs! Somedayyyyyy!), but that's not a problem, since I'm probably a little more of a cat person than a dog person. Don't get me wrong! I absolutely adore dogs and very much want to get one (eventually two). However, my early childhood (heck, from the moment I was born and all the time since) was spent around mostly cats. I remember thinking as a kid when my parents finally went and adopted a dog, how many cats we could've gotten for the dog's purchase price (I think I figured we could've gotten 7 cats for what we spent to get the dog, but I was probably way off).
Named after characters from one of our favorite movies (The Goonies), we have Chester Copperpot (the large orange tabby) and Rosalita (the small grey tabby). We adopted Chester first and a few years later added Rosy to the mix.
That's the look. Granted, I was taking a picture of him from under our glass table, which is a bit odd. In the awesome book "The cat who went to Paris" by Peter Gethers (required reading for all cat-lovers!), as his cat is getting all sorts of attention, author Peter describes the look as his cat thinking, "well, this is just the price I have to pay for being me."
They never scratch or bite, but Chester gives mean snaggletooth pressure.
Chester: *Sigh. What are you doing now?
She also is the first farting cat I've ever had. The vet is helping us work on that, but currently Rosy is the master of the "silent but deadly" variety.
But luckily they tolerate each other (loving each other may be a little much to ask right now, but they do play with each other and don't get in fights) and coexist peacefully. Even though they have to share the bed (you'll notice that this is also MY bed. My husband and I apparently get the top 2/3rds of it)!
