About Me

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Bookkeeper, tax preparer, cat lady, blogger, organizer, mystery writer.

Welcome!

I've finally decided that I am a writer - all the other things I do just pay the bills. Someone eloquent once said that if you do what you love, the money will follow. Well, let's just see about that.

RIP Aggie

RIP Aggie
Aggie was my fifteen-year-old cairn terrier - or maybe I should say I was her 55-year-old person! She was my faithful companion, spoiled rotten and I am still trying to figure out what to do without her.

Peter the Cat...

Peter the Cat...
This is Peter the gingersnap tabby! He's seven years old and has just been promoted to Peter the Very, Very Good. He is working his way up to Peter the Great...

Bee - the Cat Who Came From Somewhere Else...

Bee - the Cat Who Came From Somewhere Else...
Bee is Peter's buddy. He's eight years old and has made himself right at home. I guess cats really do come in pairs or sets of three!

And Jasper makes three!

And Jasper makes three!
Jasper is our new guy - the Cat From Another Place. He's four years old and we think he likes it here - so far, so good!

Buzz about...

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Cat box wars...

Peter has come a long way.  He has gone from a scared kitten I found in the street to a skittish cat who steered clear of the dogs at home.  He refused to move to Pennsylvania with the other cats and spent a couple of days in our empty house until Tim could catch him and transport him to the office.  There he made himself scarce and only came out when he thought the coast was clear.  Petey gallantly suffered the indignity of being neutered and moved home with me & Aggie - and they have become good friends.  Almost too good, I sometimes think.  You see, Peter is an enabler.  What? you ask.  Well, like most dogs, Aggie loves to eat cat poop.  That's just gross, but it's true.  Unfortunately for me, Peter is a nocturnal pooper and my two housemates seem to have a system all worked out to inflict the maximum sleep interruption on me.  Little varmints!  Just when we have all settled down for the night and Aggie is dozing nicely, Pete heads to the litter box where he makes his deposit and then digs.  And digs and digs and digs.  This is that noisy Tidy Cat Breeze pellet litter, mind you, and the racket is absolutely thunderous in a quiet apartment.  If the exaggerated digging fails to get Aggie's attention, Peter marches out of the bathroom meowing at the top of his lungs to alert his sister to the presence of a fresh tootsie roll treat.  Off Aggie trots to the box to attempt to make her nightly withdrawal - where she is most often thwarted by an thoroughly irritated and sleep-deprived person with a poop scoop in hand.  And I wondered why I was having trouble getting to sleep - or sleeping for more than an hour at a time.  It's not insomnia - it's furry creatures with nasty nocturnal habits.
Tonight I am going to try and wait them out - wish me luck!

1 comment:

  1. Ewwwww!

    Can you put the litter box somewhere where Peter can reach it and Aggie can't?

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