irrestistible Roberta!
Rosie loves chasing flies as well and has been known <shudder> to crunch them
what was other peoples first glimpse? mine was a tiny hamster sized little tiger kitten in a cardboard box, trying in a very wobbly way to stand up and miawing frantically as she was starving - she always had that fighting spirit. Her mum had been killed and she hadn't been fed all day. Paddy, her brother couldn't stand up he was too weak and never had so much fight in him (and though he picked up, failed to make it). I didn't know for sure if she'd make it through the night (it was 11pm) never mind be ruling our lives a year later
Thanks, Vivien. Your first glimpse is as telling as mine. Yours a strong little scrapper. Mine, a big-footed bully Is it possible for a smaller animal to bully a larger one? Yes, it is. My parakeet drove my dog nuts.
Other first glimpses, please.
The dog you see in my avatar picture probably doesn't weigh fifteen pounds with a full stomach. His best friend (until that friend's death) was a very black German shepherd, which was large even by the standards of that breed. I could reach down to pat his hind-end without bending over or even stooping--he used to love it when i would smack his hind quarters really hard, it made him smile. Mr. Bailey, the little dog in the picture, totally dominated Scout. If we went to the house where Scout lived, and Scout were on the sofa, he would get off for Mr. Bailey, and lie on the floor looking up at his friend with great pleasure.
more first glimpses? were you chosen or did you choose?
Roberta wrote:Olga, the dash of tabby on Mikey's nose is irresistible. Your mentioning it reminds me of the first time I saw him. Giant lily pads for feet, tiny body, spot on nose. He was walking down the hallway in the vet's office. Turned to hiss and spit and a cat three times his size. Then proceeded on his way. Sigh. I was hooked.
So you saw a unique character & chose him, Roberta? A lovely story.
Vivien, I was "chosen" by just about all the cats I've shared my life with. In the sense that they were abandoned (sometimes even thrown over my fence!
) or needed a home, or else
.... Flatty befriended my ex-partner during one of our many separations & came home with him during one of our many reconciliations. He was in extremely bad shape - open, infected sores from licking himself neurotically, mangey & desperate. He's stayed with me, but has required lots of TLC & vet visits.
Now he's a big fat tuxedo cat who sleeps a lot!
Since Bob and I are catless, I have to report on my cousin't cat.
For years, he lived next door to an old Siamese called Caesar. Caesar was missing many teeth, had to move slowly; yet Max (my cousin's cat) deferred to him all the years Caesar was alive. Caesar ruled the neighborhood.
When Max first moved in with my cousin, he found kitty heaven. She lives on a golf course with a sand trap directly in front of her condo. The instant Max saw it, he walked directly to it, tail straight up, used it for the purpose he knew if was meant for and walked back to the condo with a look of complete satisfaction on his face.
Now may I mention our parrot, a conure, named Fred, since there isn't a parrot thread? I've complained to Roberta that Fred picks his nose. One of his little talons just digs right in. How does one teach a parrot good manners?
Diane
Loved the story of Max putting the golf course to good use. Very funny. But how to teach Fred good manners is a mystery to me. Besies, maybe it's too late?
Memo for Roberta:
Make sure you save those Mikey stories on Abuzz (for your book
) before they've vanished!
Last Night
So, I flop into bed, tired after a day of working and Olympics watching. I'm in that place between sleep and wakefulness. The monster cat launches a full-scale, vicious attack. I am furious. I jump up, chase him out of the room, and SLAM the door.
I get back into bed and realize that not only am I in pain but that I'm bleeding on the sheets. I drag myself out of bed with the intention of putting some disinfectant on my wounds. Just one minor problem. The door is stuck. I probably slammed it a tad too hard.
In such a situation, some folks might panic. Might get angry. Might who knows what. What did I do? I started laughing. The absurdity was not lost on this kid. I laughed and laughed. Tears were streaming down my face. I tried the door again. Still stuck. Still laughing. I start looking around the room for some kind of lever to pry open the door. Not a lot of leverage material in a bedroom. Tried a coat hanger. Laugh, laugh, laugh. Didn't work. Tried a knitting needle. Laugh, laugh, laugh. No luck.
I contemplated calling for help. But the thought of people having to break down my front door (a heavy, metal job with a dead bolt--this is NYC) did not appeal to me.
I decided to pull on the door some more. Maybe I could see where it was stuck. Pull, pull. Laugh, laugh. It was stuck at the top. Laugh, pull, pull, PULL. The door flew open--and Mikey flew into the bedroom as I exited. Did I immediately get the antiseptic? Don't be silly. I got the super-soaker and sprayed Mikey. Then I licked my wounds, so to speak. I returned to the bedroom and chased Mikey out. I shut the door gently. I went to sleep.
I need to mention here that Mikey is so stupid that he can't figure out how to open a door that's ajar. Example: I'm taking a bath. I leave the door open a bit in case the Monster needs to use the litter box. He comes to the door and starts crying. I can see him; he can see me. I say to him, "Walk, you big goop. The door will open." He sits and cries.
Back to the present. I shut the bedroom door and go to sleep. I awaken to find Mikey stretched out on the floor. The bedroom door is open just far enough for him to fit through. I tell this entire story to a friend on the phone. She suggests that if I want to keep Mikey out, I shouldn't shut the door. I should leave it ajar. Sigh.
Olga, Thanks for the suggestions about my messages on abuzz. I can't get into that site. Another sigh.
Great story, Roberta! I'm still chortling as I type. That Mikey, honestly! What a wild boy!
You can't get onto Abuzz?
How come, Roberta? It'd be a crying shame to lose some of those great posts!
I don't know why I can't get in. I go there, enter my email address and password, and the system tells me that someone already has that address. I finally stopped going around in circles on it. I just gave up.
I'm going to send you my contact numbers by email, Roberta. See if they work.
when you've copied them how about starting a Mikey thread and posting them? I for one would love to read them, you have a gift for storytelling and Mikey is hilarious (maybe as long as I'm not the one bleeding
)
Possum knows how to open an ajar door, no worries.
He also tries to open closed doors. There's no such thing as a pee in peace at my house. If you go into the bathroom and shut the door, and he knows you, he's there throwing himself against it, trying to get it open. Some guests find that crashing on the door quite offputting. I don't like to suggest they leave the door open, and I've had no luck in stopping Poss, so.....
He obviously hates being excluded from such interesting activities, margo.
Margo, Miranda was the same way. I had more than one guest notice a black arm with a white paw reaching under the bathroom door. They didn't like it. Tough noogies.
Hi, Roberta
Any luck in saving those Abuzz threads about Mikey? (See, a book is forming before your face!
)
Aargh!!!
Boida - gotta save 'em!
Take our names - our passwords - whatever it takes!!!!
What a bunch of noodges. No I haven't saved them yet. I'll go there now. See what I can dig up.
good
Timmy used to open doors by jumping up and hooking the handle with his front paws, then hooking it open - it was a real pain in cold weather.
Neighbours used to be amazed as he let himself back in.
