Post your Pet!

Tomorrow I intend to see how the cats react to having catnip-scented bubbles blown at them. there will be pictures.

This one ("Dot") just went completely bonkers on me.


Just got home from family, cats greet me like they're about to be fed. I pull off the jacket and shirt I'd had on because they reak of cigarettes from the family, drape that over a chair. The non-pictured cat Dash, jumps on top of those but they slide, he falls, then Dot pounces on him, which is very uncharacteristic. It's a real cat fight, going nuclear instantly. Dash sprints down the hall for the bedroom, Dot in full chase with tail hair all spiked out (she stands up for herself a fair amount but I've never seen her go after him like this). Dot corners Dash behind the blinds, I slap the door and yell at them. Dot comes for me! I grabbed a floor lamp and had to stick the base in her face to keep her from getting me. WTF?

She slinks under the bed, crying like she's ready to kill an invading cat. I put down the lamp and grabbed a wicker cat bed thing that was close and backed away a bit. She comes at me again! Climbing on to a convenient box to get a little higher. If I hadn't had the wicker thing to screen her, I'm certain she'd have tried to bite the hell out of my legs or hands.

She went back under the bed, still making noises. I saw that Dash had got out, so I went to and shut her in.

Dot seemed to calm down, making the occasional mild meow (my cats rarely vocalize). I got a laundry basket, put a jacket on and some oven mitts (my gloves were in my car). Opened the door, she seemed ok. She wanted out. I dropped the basket on her. She huffed but didn't lose it. I want to get a look at her, see if she had a wound I wasn't aware of or something. But then she's done. She starts driving against the side of the basket, which has a crack 'cause it's the old one, and I figure she's going to get out. I hold the basket down and you'd have thought I'd stuck her with a knife. I check and no part of her is under the edge of the basket. She starts ramming against it to break out and I say, "fuck it". Back out the door and shut it. Discretion is the better part of not getting bit to fuck.

She made some meowing noise for about 15 minutes but has finally quieted down. I've had to block the lever door handle because Dash can open the door.

Talked to a local emergency pet hospital and they say that unless she "got into something new" (nothing new to get into, and these are indoor cats - though I had the windows open a bit today) that's it's probably behavioral and not medical. So for tonight, kitty gets the bedroom and a night full of NPR on the radio (take that, cat!), and I get the couch. In the morning, she might go in to the hospital. I'm hoping it isn't some brain tumor or seizure thing.

It was like this (after 0:53) except for my ability to dodge and screen the cat from actually making contact:

It could just be that you smelled unfamiliar and when the other cat jumped on the jacket, they instantly were associated with the Strange Smell. When one of our cats was even just in a medical collar, the other one acted like he was a complete stranger cat and wouldn't go near him and would hiss when he got closer.

She seemed okay this morning and now (I was out all day). So, she'll go in for a check up ASAP but hopefully no trip to the emergency pet hospital.

Oberon says: Merry Catsmas!

I like how he's staring at a fish-shaped ornament.

Journey and Menchi playing in the snow today:

Manfred Von Woofington (Manny for short) is resting after two days of Christmas. He enjoyed having everyone make a fuss over him and spoil him with treats, but the two large dogs that just wanted to play and would poke and prod him if he even thought of taking a break, started to get on his nerves. A 14 week old puppy needs his sleep, so today has consisted of food, toilet, sleep, food, toilet, harass a cat, sleep. He'll have his revenge though, because when he's fully grown, those dogs are in for a bit of a surprise.

I'm not sure who's happier in this pic, our lab or our monkey.

Our pitbull mix has the same issue. None of the rubber toys no matter how "heavy duty" stay whole for more than a minute or two in her jaws. It's a shame as she loves playing fetch with squeek toys but if I get a phone call or something and forget to take it way from her for even a minute it will be in a dozen pieces. Things like tennis balls are like that old Tootsie Pop commercial... "How many licks does it take to get to the center? One... Two... *CRUNCH* Three!"

The one toy that works for her is nylabone. These I can leave with her and they last a good several weeks before she's fashioned them into something resembling a prison shiv. The only downside is that as they are chewed they leave tiny little crumb-like chunks. They aren't harmful to the animal but they collect on the carpet so if you walk around in socks you end up collecting a bunch of little stickers on the bottom of your feet. Still, if you have a really strong chewer there's no other toy that lasts like a nylabone.

Buffy and Dawn resting on my, I mean their favorite chair.

So. I suppose I should report how it went.

The getting there was actually not so bad. Once I let them both out of their characters, they were mostly just curious, poking around wherever they could get to and generally wanting attention. Well, the one was, but even Face crawled out of the back up to a mere couple of inches away from my brother, which is progress for him.

At the house, however, things regressed just a touch. Both of them spent the first evening hiding under large objects, their extraction from whence to send them to the room where I would be staying with them was a somewhat labor-intensive exercise. Once they got back there with me, they were fine, so long as it was just me. Around other folks, they were less fine. I did finally manage to coax them out of the room and into the general living area on Christmas Eve after all of the noisy intruders had left, and from there we settled into a pattern of them nosing their way out from the back room around eight at night to explore the house and then keeping me up while I was trying to sleep on account of they spent the whole day hiding under the comforter because noises or whatever. Now that we're back home, B.A. seems to be just fine, but Face is still hiding somewhere. I suspect that he might be a little bit cross with me. To help make it up to him I got him a new water fountain, so hopefully he'll forgive me. I'm not sure that I'd do this voluntarily again, but given that I'll have to evacuate to the house we went to if the weather apocalypse should ever happen, it's good to know it's at least possible. Not recommended, but possible.

Not my pet, my parents dog. Half-breed french bulldog/hellhound.

That's a terminator dog!

Although Peaches isn't my cat, I have been kitty-sitting her for about a week now. In these pictures, she is annoyed that I am messing with my cell phone instead of petting her.

Elphaba turned 3 years old today. We've only had her since August '10, but the rescue place knew her birthdate for whatever reason, so we will be giving her extra love and pets for the next few days.

This is Pixel, the day before I picked her up from the shelter. She is a clingy, excited, hard-to-photograph dog, but she is mine.

I would post cat pictures, but they're still huddling in cupboards and at the tops of closet shelves, enraged by the new addition to the family, a week later.

A couple Molly shots from Christmas:



and

Dog + dog + snow + sled + kid =



That's my dog Ezio and my sister's dog who is visiting for the holidays.

As I have mentioned, the place we board our cats always takes a picture of them to send us for some reason. So these are this year's!

Jack, trying to decide if his need for attention outweighs his need to be a giant fucking baby:




Lizzie, no doubt wondering why some human is blocking her view of her new kingdom:

Seriously, dude, I love your cat.

Looks like a Dr. Seuss drawing.

Suki in motion:



And sitting still (almost):

Yeah, it has a hood.

We've had one dog for eleven years. He is a beagle and his name is Dr. Henry Jones Jr. He goes by Doc or Doctor Jones. We were going to name the kid Indiana, but, yeah, that's not happening now... :( Anyway, Dr. Jones was recently joined in his adventures by Dr. Marcus Brody.



Brody is somewhere, vet's best guess, between 2 and 3 years old and is some sort of mutt - I say chihuahua/pug, wife says chihuahua/english bulldog. He was found "lost in his own museum" - or, wandering around a parking lot with no tags - by friends of ours. After efforts were made for over a month to track down the owners (talked to all the local vets, pet stores, and put up flyers), they were looking for a home for him (and foolishly calling him "Cody") since they already had a very full house with a couple dogs and a couple kids, and we decided to take him in (and rename him appropriately).

Brody really enjoyed Christmas.

Everyone has such pretty, happy pets. Well done pet servants. ;)

Heh, I'm with you, I'd guess Pug, things mixed with English Bulldog tend to be rather wide. Maybe a Frenchie or a Boston?

Min has gone into full-blown hibernation mode. She is spending approximately 22 hours a day curled up beneath the top blanket on our bed.

Jack has been doing that too, although at night he sleeps on top of the blankets (I guess we put off enough heat that he doesn't feel the need to burrow). But as soon as Ingmar gets up to start to get ready for work, Jack starts batting my face with his paw until I let him under the covers with me.

Gibson has been burrowing lately as well. Which is probably my fault since I leave the window open a lot and it drops into the mid-50s in my room generally.

Dickens and Lucas have been in heaven this past week since Matt & I have been off work, and days off work mean Morning Snuggle Time! We let them out of their room, they eat their breakfast, then Dickens gets under the covers with me and purrs up a storm while Lucas wanders around on top of the bed and kneads on the blankets.

We had to go back to work today. They weren't any happier about it than we were.

Charlie was obviously feeling guilty about all the toys he's been given this Christmas so he decided to get us something fun to play with. It was a live but slightly mauled thrush. So not only did we have the joy of chasing a bird around the living room, we then had to clean up the blood that had gone everywhere.
Poor creature did manage to escape out of the window eventually and flew off to the highest tree around.

Doctor Jones has had dozens of toys and bones for many years. We get him new ones now and then, but he never wants to play with them or chew them. Enter Brody, who liked to play with the toys and chew the bones. Jones is having none of that. He keeps taking the stuff away from Brody and placing it back into the basket. Every time we see him do this, one of us will shout "That belongs in a museum!" We may have misnamed Brody. He might be one of the villains...

sympathy like for NyimaR.

My FiL's dogs are kinda like this. The older dog Buddy has toys but he's picky about when he wants to play with them and he never wants to play with Daisy who is the other dog. He just carries them around and growls at you if you go near them. The younger dog, Daisy, is a very sweet animal with not many brains and she thinks that the game is just to have the toys and growl. She doesn't play with the toys at all, she just wants to steal them and then do the growling game because she thinks that's what they are for. Poor Buddy gets really frantic when this happens and ends up trying to take them back from Daisy who is super happy because that means Buddy is playing with her at last.

Moonlight and Madeleine aka "Pantufas" love boxes. No box is ever save from our little box-pirates :)







Happy 2013 for all the BF Pets and their Humans :)

May all your days be filled with loads of petting and silly grins \O/

Has there ever been a cat that didn't love boxes?
Sox says "Zzz". Which I'm just going to assume means "Nope. Boxes rule".

She looks like she's posing for the front of a cat-food bag.