NOM.

The GOOD kind.

As in this clip I made of Mollie, Pennie & Bonnie earlier today! LOL:



Hi to my friends in the blogging community - sorry it's been forever!!!

Kitty Photoblogging: Minnie

Beings Mollie, Pennie and Bonnie are more cooperative with picture-taking LOL, I've mostly posted photos of those 3. But I do have 3 kitties myself, and I'm locating all of my pictures, which happen to be mixed up somewhere in my bermuda data DVD-R folders.

Here's some cute pictures of my youngest cat, Minnie. She was found via the in-store "classifieds" wall at Petsmart, and adopted in May 2004, at 5-6 weeks old.

These pictures were taken on the first night she was brought home - and she still does this cute pose in the first picture, usually after taking a cat-nap:

More cute GLBT kitties:

Wayne Besen's kitty

Joe.My.God.'s kitty, "Shelley"

Mollie & Pennie: Saga Of The Dirty Rawhide Bone

Being a "pet person", I enjoy hilarious pet stories, and my neighbor friends sent me some new pictures of Mollie and Pennie's hilarious Pyrenees antics from last week. My neighbor followed them with a camera all morning (when they're most hyper and acting silly), as what she described was a "saga" going on the entire time. It's too cute, and I have to pass their story along..........

The day before, Mollie was given a rawhide bone, and Pennie snatched it from her, and buried it outside. Pennie later dug it up, and had it while she and Mollie were wrestling around the next morning (and yes, Jaws has already gotten ahold of the corner of the stairs, as you'll clearly notice):

























Both girls are locked onto the rawhide bone, but Pennie isn't about to give it up. She was chewing on it in front of Mollie, and basically saying "it's mine!", like a kid would do.






















As she was leaving for work, my neighbor called Mollie and Pennie into the bedroom. At some point, Mollie quietly leaves the room, goes into the hallway, and scoops up the bone at the top of the stairs, where Pennie left it.

Realizing what she had forgotten, Pennie gets this "oh shit!" look on her face, and dashes away to get it. She didn't find the bone, but instead Mollie in the closest bathroom, sitting facing the shower, wedged in between a hamper and the toilet, where Pennie couldn't get around her, or anywhere near the bone (note: I'm not going to show off a person's toilet to the world, and erased that out LOL!).

All Pennie could do, was sit behind Mollie and sulk. Obviously the smaller the rawhide bone got, the sadder Pennie got. Awwwww........

































Too cute! If you're not a "pet person", or "dog person", you wouldn't understand!

All Mollie and Pennie posts

Tribute To Taz

Long before Pennie, and even long before Mollie joined their family, I met my neighbor friend's Catahoula Leopard, Taz, on Thanksgiving 2000 (along with Lady, their black Labrador, who passed away in 2004).

At first, I was intimidated by Taz's crazy and sometimes vicious temperament, but once he got used to me being over at their house at least once a week, we became good friends. He was known to bite somebody's hand once in a while, but not once ever showed his teeth or even growled at me.

Taz's dad nicknamed him "asshole", because of his hateful attitude - and not to mention every time when he saw another neighbor walking their dog(s) from the upstairs office room window, he'd take off flying downstairs, barking and bitching loud enough to wake the dead.

Last Halloween, Taz became ill, but he soon bounced back after a trip to the vet.

On the morning before Thanksgiving, I was to stop by their house, but hadn't yet read the emails from his owners: he was sick like he was on Halloween, once again. I knew something was strange when I arrived, because Taz hadn't answered the door, barking up a storm as usual, and Mollie hadn't ran to the door when I opened it, either. Mollie was upstairs, and I found Taz next to his dad's computer, dead.

I guess Taz got the last laugh for being called "asshole" all those years, because like most animals when they die, he left a mess - next to his dad's computer desk.

My neighbor had to leave work when I called him and told him the news, and once he got home, we called the vet to make arrangements for pet cremation. The office lady said to bring Taz's body to the back of the animal clinic, and they would take care of the rest....which meant WE had move his body to the vehicle.

Because Taz's stiff body was about 75 pounds of dead weight, it was impossible for his dad to carry him downstairs to the car by himself, and I wasn't about to try it. We ended up placing him (conveniently frozen in an awkward sitting position) in a standard sized cardboard moving box.

Making the task even more creepy, as we were carrying his heavy body in the box downstairs, Taz's eyes were open, and staring - almost directly at me. At one point, we almost dropped his body, because it kept moving in the box and making it difficult to hold onto.

Once we got downstairs, I pushed the box through the kitchen and towards the garage door, taking him on his last sorta joyride. We had no choice but to place Taz-in-the-box in the passenger seat of his owner's sports car - with his body leaning towards whoever would be driving. I'd be tripping balls on the way to the vet, with his body frozen stiff like that, and looking right at you. Imagine the look on somebody's face if they caught a glimpse of that driving past them!

His owner managed to get Taz to the vet safely, and his body was then cremated and returned the following week.

I wanted to wait until it was appropriate to write my little Taz tribute, and had told his owners tonight that I thought it was acceptable now. Miss ya, asshole Taz!