We Enable

There is no such thing as quitters in our world. So, of course we keep our cat supplied with lots of catnip. Why deal with withdrawals and annoying things like detox? He's more agreeable (for the most part) when high on the 'nip. Plus, he makes for great entertainment.

We harvested our fresh garden catnip, placed it in an old sock of Vin's and viôla! You have your catnip dime bag for a nip-addict.

Hallmarks of Senility?

I think we've pretty well established the Ferris isn't your typical cat. But can someone tell me why he cries and mews in the early morning while sitting next to me in bed? Why he feels it necessary to wake me up enough to where I'm worriedly pawing at him and then he settles back into sleep? It's like, "hehe, Servant. You feel like it's okay to wake me up in the midst of my cat nap - in the dead of night I'm going to cry like a banshee until you are UP and then? I get my satisfaction that you are WIDE AWAKE and promptly fall back asleep. How's it feel?!"

Or, how he's suddenly forgotten everything we've taught him about "Counters and Tables are NOT for you".  I've caught him on the table or the counter twice in the last two days. What is up with this? And then? All he wants is to be HELD.

I think he's just cold. Or crazy. Or just cold crazy.

Baby, it's cold outside...

Ferris isn't your usual cat, if you haven't figured that out by now. He follows us around the house, unlike other domestic cats who would rather be left completely alone in their corner of the home. Wherever we end up - there he is, snuggled not too far away, if not curled up in one of our laps. I don't think he loves us as what some would wish to anthropomorphize a cat - as he's just cold. We're his personal heating pads!

I know Ferris is cold when I can feel his ice cube paws through the comfort in bed, and he doesn't mind being rolled on when he tucked in close. And when we're in the living room, he doesn't particularly want attention, as he wants just to be left alone on your lap, soaking up your heat. If you start petting him, he jets off.

So, he's also quite content in curling up on the couch next to you, on a pillow (because he hates the leather texture of the couch) with a blanket tucked around him.

Crash Kitty Koot

Ferris loves the holidays. He enjoys all the yards and spools of ribbon, delicate tissue paper to shred, pretty and krinkly wrapping paper to puncture, box after box of gifts, decorations in which to hide in, and of course dangling ornaments in which to playfully swat and bat at and eventually destroy. Oh, and the tree he's always under. And the lights he likes to chew on.  Mommy lets him. He'll learn eventually.

Truck Ride

So, we made an addition a few months back to the vehicle family and purchased our Dodge diesel that is the same color as Boomer. With diesel prices as low as they are we’re saving money driving it, plus keeping mileage off of Boomer to enhance trade-in value. We would like to take Ferris with us occasionally on our future trips whether it be to Crescent City or to the market around the corner. SHUT UP we are NOT crazy cat people. He’s just like a dog. And he thinks he’s one too. He used to fetch. Now he’s just too smart.

So, Vin & I had to run into Scary Ghettoville off of Franklin to visit a gun store for an elusive part to an old rifle. Here’s the picture: Two folks in a Dodge ¾ ton diesel pick ‘em up truck at a gun store with a cat. I’m sure the leering gangstas were just as confused as I would be if they visited downtown Rio Linda on a Saturday night of the truck pulls. So… Ferris was ALL about going out front as I clutched him to me until he heard the rumbling of the diesel as the truck warmed up. That’s when he decided I needed 18 new puncture holes in my torso. Vin was already in the drivers seat as I gently put him down on the passenger set and Ferris started to howl.

Now, Ferris used to go everywhere with me when he was little. From the time he was brought up until he was about 2 years old, he’d go to work with me, the store, the drive thru at Wendy’s (which would freak the guy out every time, it was hilarious!), grammy and grandpa’s and he loved his crate. Now all he associates it with is trips to the vet, because like bad parents that’s all we take him to anymore. Or, we leave him abandoned at my folk’s house while we go on vacation. He’s long since lost his vagabond penchant and excitement for the car and his crate and I can’t say I blame him. So now Vin & I are trying to get him used to travel.

I curled up on the giant passenger seat since, as Vin calls it – it’s like driving a couch – and Ferris tried to smash himself between me and the seat belt buckle. So I buckled him in with me. He continued to cry and attempt to turn into a Popple beside me as Vin and I cooed and petted him. One time, he let the curiosity get the better of him and he peered out the passenger window. He was about as wiry and tense as a cat in front of a line of German Shepards and I could SWEAR I saw him shudder at the whizzing cars and moving scenery before he shoved himself back into his cubby hole.

We didn’t do the crate for a couple of reasons, one – we want him to be comfortable and explore (which I worry about because I think he’s going to jam himself under the brake pedal or get stuck under a seat, but Vin assures me Ferris is smarter than that) and we want him to stop associating the crate with something to urinate in – which when he’s in any enclosed space and under stress – he does. And we didn’t want that in the Dodge we’ve named Double D.

So, the ride was pretty uneventful and once we got to the gun shop, I stayed in the truck w/ Ferris while Vin went in to get the part. There was some kind of gang-fund raising car wash for some poor homey that was murdered or something across the street and made for INTERESTING people watching. Meanwhile, Ferris tried to explore by doing figure 8s on the floor board. Under Vin’s seat, up over the console, under my seat and back again before he tried to blend into the floor. Crying the whole time.

Once we got moving to go back home, safely out of the ‘hood, Ferris planted his furry butt between me and the seatbelt buckle again and was pretty quiet all the way home. Although, he knows his daddy because any time Vin talked to him he’d cry and pine under his touch. When I touched him or talked to him? He’d just ignore me. As soon as we pulled up to the house he snapped out of his ‘fraidy cat and eagerly looked out the window, now suddenly realizing we were home and he could be comfortable. Back inside the house he just licked himself like it was any other day and he was totally cool – not showing what a sissy he was.