A little advice, just in case you’re letting the cares of this world get you down – she’s got this chillin’ thing down to a science!
We’ll be wiggling our toes a little more next week when our yard sale is over! I can’t tell you how much help Phoebe June has been at sorting through closets!
We’ve had a little excitement around here and I’ll fill you in on that.
The month of June is right around the corner and that always brings to mind the time that Smuffy decided to adjust the brakes on the car and…
Sorry, gotta put that one on hold! He has his own page here at Midwest Storyteller here, if you’d like to catch up. Excerpts from Phoebe June’s diary are right here!
Today marks the one-year anniversary of the day Phoebe June bounced into our lives, electrifying every nook and cranny of our world. And then there’s the noise. There’s a lot of that. As I shared earlier here, it would be no surprise to discover that Phoebe June kept a diary, as she’s as full of opinions as a stage director with a headache. I thought it fitting to start with her earliest musings. Please don’t tell her I snooped. I’ll never hear the end of it.
Wednesday, December 6, 2017
I played and napped in the mudroom with my sissy today. Sissy’s fun, but not as much fun as me! Mommy Blair got grouchy again when we tried to have some milk, but Joy-lady fed us at the bowl and then let us run all over the house! Sissy’s a little scared of the Christmas tree, but not me! We heard the door and that dumb dog yelling. A lady came. Sissy peeked around the corner. I bounced around it. People need fun and I’m full of the stuff. The new lady smiled and scooped up Sissy. I watched.
No time for scooping – I zoomed under the Christmas tree – the sparkly-est, rustly-est, dangly-est thing ever! Joy-lady scooped me in the middle of a zoom and put me in the new lady’s lap. She likes me! I could tell by the way she …Zzzzzz….
Then, Sissy got scooped again. She didn’t say a word. I had to do all the talking as usual. The lady talked about Sissy’s pretty eyes and my pretty nose. She talked about it a lot. She called me “brave”. I think that means I like to zoom, zoom…zzzzz…
Anyway, she kissed us and promised to come back.
Thursday, December 7, 2017
Joy-lady says it’s a special day. One of us is getting ‘dopted. Whatever that is, it’s already happened to Charlie and the others and I’m blaming the dog for it.
The nice lady came back with a man. She asked him over and over whether he liked shy Sissy’s sweet eyes or my beautiful velvet nose and my zoominess. I showed both of them what awesome cats are made of and zoomed and zoomed until I got tired and she scooped me again.
I guess getting ‘dopted means someone tucks your whole self inside their coat and makes you ride in a noise-box. I didn’t like the noise-box, but inside the coat, I felt the lady’s warm heart. She told me over and over and over that she was my new mommy. Every time I asked for Sissy and Mommy Blair, she just kept giving me more kisses. Silly thing! When the noise-box stopped, we got out and went into a new place. I got about a hundred more snuggles from my new mommy. Then, she put me down and started following me everywhere! I didn’t mind much – I had a grand explore – sniffed till my sniffer ached and told them what I thought of the place. It had a nice potty pan, some tasty food, feathery toys and about a million hidey-holes.
I checked for bedbugs and took a bath and then explored some more till my zoomer was all zoomed out. The lady put me in the man’s lap. I was all ready for a nice nap until he started barking.
The lady called him “Daddy” and said he had a nasty cough, but I know a bark when I hear one. It took me twenty minutes to settle my tail hairs down.
I may have a brain the size of a walnut, but I know a thing or two and this new mommy’s got what it takes! Her food is yummy, her robe is furry, she plays games and toys like a pro and I’m starting to get used to all the kissing. If she would only stop interrupting me when I’m talking! She calls me Phoebe June and I think I’ll let her ‘cause it sounds just right.
Each time I woke in the nighttime, all I had to do was reach up and pat my new mommy’s cheek and tell her about how I felt lost and how I couldn’t find Sissy or Mommy Blair. She’d snuzzle me close and promise to take care of me and be my Forever Mommy. When her eyes got all drippy, I knew she meant it.
I didn’t know how much I needed Phoebe June until I got her. She lives life large, intent on letting us know that she is a mighty huntress, has no intention of being left alone and would prefer that we pay close attention to her running commentary. Phoebe has two settings: “Park” and “Autobahn”. Smuffy and I are learning to live with her effusiveness and the high-speed zooming. It’s a little like having an emotionally needy child who is always following you everywhere, asking what you are doing now, insisting that you play games and that you sit down and pay attention to the umpteenth “show and tell” presentation – especially the “telling”.
I’ll have to be careful about it, but I’ll try to sneak another page of her diary and share it with you soon.
On October 10, 2017, a kindle of kittens arrived, filling the mud room of the country home with tiny mews, squeaks and squirms. We didn’t have a clue.
Not until almost two months later did Smuffy hand me a gift bag for our anniversary. It contained, mysteriously, a can of kitten food. Since we had no cat and hadn’t had one for a decade, I stared at Smuffy, speechless.
“You don’t want a cat,” I finally managed to utter after he asked me if I intended to say anything.
“But you do,” he smiled. “And life is short, and I’m ready, and you need to get a kitty. That is, if you want one.”
I lapsed into another stunned silence for a bit and then a conversation started that lasted for the rest of the day. Here we are enjoying our anniversary dinner and still talking about it.
My main concern was that Smuffy might not be ready to become a kitty-daddy – heart and soul, that is. The last thing I wanted was to end up in a situation where he put up with a cat around the house for my sake while secretly hating every minute of it.
Once he assured me that he’d been thinking about it for months and was fully ready to commit, I got downright giddy at the thought. Since December isn’t really the season around here for “please, please, pleeeeeease take one of these kittens off my hands”, my word of mouth efforts yielded no leads.
I made a bold move and tried social media, hoping that I wouldn’t be swamped with 150 offers to wade through as I tried to make a decision.
Oddly, just one prospect appeared who had two kittens ready for a home. They both happened to be females, which I wanted, and the photos were adorable. On December 7th, a mere five days after Smuffy lost his marbles and made the offer, we adopted Phoebe June and it’s been nothing but fun, games and squirt-bottle discipline around here ever since.
And Smuffy, you ask? His heart melted and within the first week she’d become his little “Junebug”. When it comes to kitty discipline, he dreads nothing more than having to be the bad guy. Let’s just call him Mr. Marshamallow.
As for myself, I didn’t know how much I needed Phoebe June until I got her. We romp and play as though she’s four weeks old and I’m four years old. Well, I haven’t dressed her up in doll clothes or anything, but I’ve come pretty close. I determined to keep her from being fearful of every little thing by harness “training” (and I use that word loosely because, she is, after all, a cat) her and taking her everywhere. Now, she’s a social butterfly and is not neurotic, but everybody thinks I am!
We’re celebrating around here today with a couple of extra toys from the dollar store, some “big girl” food and a trip to the vet to weigh in. You might think the latter would be enough to ruin a birthday for most cats, but Phoebe takes the kitty doctor in stride, along with her trips to see Amy Egglady, window shopping or popping in to see friends.
Happy 1st Birthday, Phoebe June! You’ve come a long way from the little powder puff nestled in the palm of my hand.
Cat years are calculated differently than dog years. It proceeds faster at first and then slows down to a ratio of Human: 1 = Cat: 3. Right now, Phoebe is supposed to be the equivalent of a twelve-year-old. We might just be moving into more exciting times. Hmmm…
I keep this Shakespearean quote above Phoebe’s playhouse –
As you can see, it suited her from the start. Born to leap, Phoebe June flies through the air with the greatest of ease all without the need for a trapeze. Add to that the fact that she is emotionally clingy, loudmouthed and opinionated and you’ll have but a mere hint as to how our “empty nest” household has changed.
In fact, Phoebe June talks non-stop! It should have been no surprise to discover that she’s been keeping a diary. I’ll be sharing some of her thoughts and experiences with you whenever I can manage to sneak a peek without getting caught.
I’d love to hear from you, so leave a comment!
Coming up Next: I’m finally getting around to those hearty fall recipes I promised. You’ll get FREE PRINTABLES, too!
Phoebe June is a delight. We adopted her on December 7th. Later that evening, I saw via Joanna Gaines on Instagram that on that same day, Chip surprised the family with a new kitten! For a moment, I questioned whether I should change Phoebe June’s name to Magnolia, but somehow “Phoebe” had already “stuck”. We do love “Fixer Upper” and the Gaines family and wish them the best with their new additions – the kitten and the soon-to-arrive baby!
I’m sure if you’ve seen any of her innocent-looking photos, you’re assuming that Phoebe June spends her days with her powder-puff paws crossed waiting for someone to stroke her velvet fur.
The reason for that is that all the action shots I’ve tried to obtain of Phoebe have been a complete blur. When she is not striking a demure pose for the camera, Smuffy and I are taking turns at Wildcat Patrol. Well, I take more turns than Smuffy, but then I also get the most kitty cuddles, so I suppose I can live with it.
Our veterinarian wanted to know if Phoebe was alert and playful. I showed him my scratch marks.
Having a cat in the house is different from having a kitten in the house. Our last two cats, who were two years apart in age, each lived to be 16 years old, so it’s been a long time since we started afresh. Though they remained playful all their lives – Y I K E S ! – it’s not the same as bringing home a charged-up little lightning bolt of energy that is the most playful hunter on earth – a 7 ½ week old kitten.
Phoebe June had an adorable sister. Here they are on the day we met when I was trying to decide which to adopt.
Sweet Sister seemed docile and shy – such endearing qualities. Phoebe June, on the other hand, entered the room with an air that suggested that if it were not a fun-filled place, she’d be happy to remedy the problem in three seconds or less.
Having had a couple of truly neurotic cats in the past, I chose brave kitty. I got brave kitty! She’s smart and tries her best to cooperate with the rules, but some things prove irresistible, such as the taking down of the Christmas tree. I should have probably gotten a sitter for that one.
To give you a glimpse of our fun-filled days and a guide should you consider bringing home a kitten, I’m sharing this list that reflects how we’ve acclimated to Phoebe June’s world.
Cats are fascinating and each one seems to have strange traits, odd fears and unique habits that don’t have any rhyme or reason and don’t quite fit in with any of the scientific studies on cats. There are just some things the experts can’t explain about feline behavior.
Phoebe June has her share of these quirks already, but the one that is the most puzzling and causes me the greatest loss of sleep is her unexplainable desire to eat my hair! This she confines, annoyingly, to the early morning hours. She’s a clingy sort, but being nocturnal, she roams a bit a night and nods off under the bed between her excursions and a few hops back onto the bed to be sure I haven’t run away from home.
Then, in the pre-dawn, when the stealthy mountain lions of the wild stir and head out for the hunt, Phoebe June stirs also. She hunts for one thing only – Mommy! It’s as though she’s re-discovered me after a prolonged absence and the joy is too much for her.
Climbing onto my head with her purr-box rumbling like a Harley, she wraps all four paws around my head and clinging with all her might, tries to remove my hair! And the question is: Why?
Needless to say, at this point I am awake! As I disentangle her and pull her down to ruffle her fur and give her a snuggle, I can’t help but giggle at the amount of affection that seems to be lavished upon me in this strange act. Though she may be clutching at my head with all her strength, there are no claws involved, only purring, wallowing and (sigh) gnawing.
“And then you fall back asleep?” you assume. Nope. Phoebe June’s full affections take a while to dissipate and she’ll make several more attempts at snatching me bald before she gets it out of her system and settles down on my shoulder to flop around until breakfast is served.
Hopefully, this is a passing phase, because one of her favorite times to run amok through the house is around 10:45 each night. These frenzies can last a couple of hours, so if she doesn’t give up one or the other habits, I may be feeling soon, as they say, “a mere shadow of my former self.”
I thought Phoebe June’s story might bring you a smile during the wintry days of January. You can deny it, but I know you’re watching those funny cat videos online!
If you’re a “cat person”, I’m sure you have a story or two to of your own about the cats in your life. Scroll back up to the top of this post and “Leave a Comment” to share them. I’d love to hear from you!
Have some cat-loving friends? Be sure to SHARE!
Want more on how Smuffy deals with cats? Check it out here, but please, cover your eyes!
