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.
If it hadn’t been for Martha Stewart, it would have slipped right past us.
I happened to see Martha on social media this morning posing with her felines. I knew I couldn’t let myself be outdone by Martha. What she had to offer in numbers (not to mention fluff), we completely make up for by the fact that we have the one and only Phoebe June.
Since today is a rare and glorious autumn day, we celebrated National Cat Day with a trip to the cemetery just down the street. This old cemetery, designed by an architect long ago, offers a great place to get away for a peaceful stroll.
Phoebe enjoyed the autumn splendor as much as I did.
The perfect afternoon held one spot of rare excitement for both of us. As we strolled down one of the long avenues between the towering cypress trees, we heard a loud pop and turned to see what caused the noise. There on the paved lane in front of us lay a squirrel, flat on his back, motionless. I surveyed my surroundings to make certain that someone with a BB gun hadn’t shot the squirrel and might perhaps take another shot and hit Phoebe June or me. (Small town in the Midwest – that sort of thing happens here.)
We crept toward Mr. Squirrel with caution and with Phoebe’s tail bushed out and the fur along her spine doing its imitation of a razor-backed hog. As we approached, the squirrel stretched his back legs out as far has he could as though he’d forgotten his morning exercises. He gave them a few jerks as if to see if they’d been stretched to their absolute limits and relaxed again, ignoring the stick under his back. I knelt before him, trying to get my camera in place. It isn’t every day you get to hold your lens ten inches from a squirrel’s nose, which I now noticed was just a bit bloody.
Phoebe June sat two or three feet from the marvel, trying to decide if it was a gift from above or something that warranted caution. Like me, she’d never seen a squirrel with a concussion before.
After a slow roll, the squirrel sat up and studied us, weaving back and forth as though his eyes lacked focus and his head throbbed. I took aim, but before I could press the camera shutter, he staggered toward me, slipped under my left thigh and tottered off through the gravestones. Phoebe June flew after him like the mighty huntress she knows she is, but I reigned her in, reluctant to put the poor little fellow through any more trauma. Also, they bite.
Having danced out onto the tip of a fragile branch of one of the tallest trees in the cemetery, it had snapped, the squirrel had plunged to the pavement below and had been knocked senseless. After all that and wakening to find himself up close and personal with a human and a cat, this squirrel had had enough for one day.
I got no photo, but Phoebe had just about all the excitement she could stand for National Cat Day. That is, until somebody came walking through with their dog. Body language says it all. She disapproved.
Happy National Cat Day! Hug your kitty! Hand out a couple of extra treats. Have a cozy sit filled with chin scratches and neck massages.
Phoebe June recommends that you get into the spirit of National Cat Day and adopt a kitty if you don’t have one, because, as we all know, they are therapeutic. Food, litter, catnip toys and a few vet visits can run into money, but they are much cheaper than a psychiatrist!
Questions? Phoebe June is on hand to answer. Caution: She can be brutally honest. She’s excited to read your comments but her replies may reveal just a touch of high-mindedness.
