Category Archives: Animals

cats, animals, squirrels, wildlife rescue

The Life of Pye: Puss in boots, one year later.

Kernut the Blond Posted on by

It’s been a year since Pye appeared on my doorstep. A year of learning about relationships, for both of us. Yes, I’m referring to my cat as if she’s a person. If you’re new here, please see the tag line under the title of this blog for the explanation.

We’re going to skip what I’ve learned about relationships this past year or so; I’ll save that for another time. Let’s move on to Pye for now, shall we?

What we’ve all learned about Pye in the last year:

We learned that Pye doesn’t sleep, and keeps me up at night.

We learned Pye likes to drink from my water cup. I don’t like this because I know where her tongue has been.

We learned Pye doesn’t know what to do with a live fish. She likes to think she’s wild, but she’s not. Not even a little.

We learned that Pye will run away in a moment of panic (gee, I have NO idea what that’s like), but will return 30 hours later.

We learned Pye has a foot fetish. Apparently, she has a boot fetish as well. Hey, I like cowboy boots, too, but don’t you think Pye is taking it a bit far?

"Kitteh luv dat boot."

“Kitteh luv dat boot.” (These photos are crappier than usual because I used my cell phone. YES, that’s my excuse.)

"Mmmm, kitteh fink boot smell gud."

“Mmmm, kitteh fink boot smell gud.”

"Hold meh, Boot. Hold da kitteh."

“Hold meh, Boot. Hold da kitteh. Luv da kitteh.”

I have a “no shoes on in the RV” kind of carpet. These boots were not next to my bed. Not that I wouldn’t mind a pair next to my bed. Just sayin’.

And now we learn:   But, wait! There’s more…

A day at the park: Myrtle the Turtle

Kernut the Blond Posted on by

Meet Myrtle the Turtle

Baby snapping turtle

Myrtle the Turtle at one inch.

She’s a baby Alligator Snapping Turtle, and her soft shell is only about one inch long. This is an extreme closeup photo – she’s only about the size of a quarter. Despite her small start, the Alligator Snapping Turtle is the largest freshwater turtle in the world. Ranger Roscoe is fascinated by her tiny little tail. (you can see it in the above photo)

We’re keeping Myrtle in a tank until her shell hardens and she gets a little bigger – and looks less like a snack. Her little shell will grow to a couple feet across. She’ll also get a big, snapping beak, and may live as long as 120 years.

A few days ago we released “The Seven Dwarfs”, But, wait! There’s more…

The Life of Pye: Two Cures for Cat-induced Sleep Deprivation

Kernut the Blond Posted on by

The Life of Pye is a sporadically-posted series about the cat who adopted me.

I’m a bit overdue for an update on Pye. She is still here, tearing up my RV, but there have been some changes. Here’s the latest…

Cat-induced sleep deprivation.

As I’ve mentioned before, Pye does not sleep at night. She considers night time the best time for attacking the bedsheet wrinkles or my sleeping feet.

The sleep deprivation was getting to me. Since Pye is a water-loving freak of cat nature, squirting her with water has the opposite effect it would on normal cats. Locking her out of the bedroom, something I’d rather not do because I like her little warm body sleeping next to mine, doesn’t work because she scratches at the door all night. She wants to cuddle for about five minutes, but then she wants to play.

A sleeping cat.

A sleeping Pye – it must be daytime.

Solution #1: The Vacuum Technique

Thank Goddess for the internet – I found out I’m not alone. The best technique I read was from a commenter (you guys are the best!) on a post about cat-induced sleep deprivation. He described the “vacuum technique”.

But, wait! There’s more…

The Life of Pye: Pye and The Minnow

Kernut the Blond Posted on by

The Life of Pye is about a cat – the cat who adopted me.

This is another post in the sporadic series about Pye’s antics. Some previous stories are Pye Has a Foot Fetish and Thirty Hours Without Pye.

Before I start, let me note that this post is not about my cat and a tiny ship that was tossed. This is about a different minnow.

Pye and The Minnow

At one of my jobs we sell live bait fish: minnows and goldfish. Until I saw a dog playing with a minnow, which the dog’s owner had placed in a parking lot puddle, it never occurred to me to get a minnow for my cat to play with.

Yeah, yeah, I know. Cats are above fish on the food chain. I never claimed to be brilliant.

Moving on…

After work one day I got her a little minnow and placed it in a shallow baking (pie) dish in the shower. Pye stared at the minnow for a long time. (Remember, this is the kitten that appeared on my doorstep half starved because she couldn’t figure out how to catch enough bugs to stay alive. She and I live in a country park – there is NO shortage of rodents and reptiles to eat, provided you’re bright enough to catch them…)

Pye has never seen a minnow and doesn't know what to think.

Pye has never seen a minnow and doesn’t know what to think.

By the way… The brown caulk in the top center of the photo is my poor attempt at caulking my shower. (Note to self, and any others wishing to caulk their own shower: Do not assume that just because the color on the tube of caulk says “Almond” – and looks JUST LIKE the color of your shower – that it will actually match said shower. It will not.)

But, wait! There’s more…

The Life of Pye: 30 Hours Without Pye

Kernut the Blond Posted on by

The Life of Pye is about a cat. The cat who adopted me.

And this is a short, sporadically posted series about her. The first post is Pye has a foot fetish.

This is why Pye has to be an "only kitty".

This is why Pye has to be an “only kitty”.

Pye is still quite pudgy.

She’s been on a diet for several months (1/2 cup of kibbles as per the instructions on the bag), but it’s having little effect. (Her blood levels were tested when she got fixed in November and came back normal.) She gets a lot of exercise, still racing around the RV a few times a day — she uses it like an obstacle course.

Pye needs excitement.

She gets bored or anxious or lonely when I’m gone and tears the place up. I recently read an ad selling dog vests in which it claimed the vests helped calm down anxious dogs. My thinking immediately substituted cat for dog, and harness for vest, with the hope that wearing a harness would help Pye calm down when I’m gone.

To keep her from getting bored, I sometimes take her outside on a leash and harness. No, she doesn’t really walk on the leash. But hope springs eternal so I keep trying. She kind of crouch-walks. And only where she wants to go. I’d really like to have a cat that walks on a leash like a dog. I know it can happen, I’ve seen other people “walking” their cats.

Pye, aka Drama Cat, in her new harness.

Drama Cat says, “I’m going to tear up the place the moment you leave and this harness won’t slow me down. That book was wrong.”

Pye ran away for about 30 hours.

Last month during supervised outdoor play (a euphemism for “trying to get my cat to walk on a leash”), she broke off her harness in a panic. (NO, she does not get that from me.) But, wait! There’s more…

The Life of Pye: Pye Has a Foot Fetish

Kernut the Blond Posted on by

The Life of Pye is about a cat.

Well, the movie titled The Life of Pi isn’t entirely about a cat. Ok, the movie isn’t really about a cat at all, it just has a cat in it. Whatever, we can’t be picky.

But this post is about a cat. It’s about the life, so far, of Pyewacket (aka “Pye”), the kitten who arrived on my doorstep adopted me in September of last year. This was originally going to be one Ten Things post, but she’s done so much goofy stuff I decided to make it a series. Lucky you.

Plus, her one year birthday has just passed. She showed up September 23, 2012 and she was probably around 5 or 6 months old at the time. I’ve decided to make her birthday March 23rd. It’s a rough guess, but she deserves an actual birthday.

A rare moment of calm in February. She's curled up along my side and arm. We're napping.

A rare moment of calm in February. She’s curled up, upside down, along my side and arm. We’re napping in a black “faux mink” throw blanket.

Here’s some of what’s happened in the last six months… (more posts to follow)

Pye has a foot fetish. No, really – and I’m beginning to get concerned. She loves my stinky shoes. She attacks my feet and ankles almost constantly. Sometimes she licks them, or just puts her own paws on my feet. She likes to do this most by laying behind my feet and placing all her paws on the edge of my foot when I’m trying to cook. But, wait! There’s more…

Cat-butt-tongue Water

Kernut the Blond Posted on by

This is another post about my cat. If you don’t have pets, or never had pets, you probably won’t get this. In fact, you may decide to never get a pet, ever. But they’re totally worth it.

I went to visit my friends Ben and Jo in Rockport, Texas over the weekend. The following are snippets from a conversation I had with Jo.

Conversation with my friend Jo about Pyewacket, my newish kitten:

Me: Pyewacket is getting pudgy and is now on diet. I used to call her Princess Pye, but now I’m calling her Pumpkin Pye.

Jo: *laughs* Maybe she’s not getting enough exercise?

Me: Oh, no. The little Tasmanian Devil of a kitten gets plenty of exercise. Everything in the house is a toy. My house is probably being shredded as we speak. All boxes that enter, packing materials included, are immediately claimed by Pye. It doesn’t matter if she’s too big to fit in the box, it’s still hers. She races up and down the RV in the morning and in the evening. When I’m trying to sleep she attacks my feet and legs. (Yes, Bluzdude, I have been trying your suggestion of ‘sail cat’. She thinks it’s part of the game.)

Jo: *laughs*

Me: I’m pretty sure she thinks her name is “No” because I’m always telling her to stop attacking or scratching something. And then there are my showers. I can’t take a shower alone anymore!

Jo: *laughs*

Me: The day after Pye first showed up on my doorstep, I decided she needed a bath. But, wait! There’s more…

It’s ALIVE! or How Pyewacket is like the Energizer Bunny.

Kernut the Blond Posted on by

Like a song you can’t stop singing, this famous one-liner from Frankenstein is stuck in my head: “It’s ALIVE!!”

Because It’s Alive. All. The. Time.

And because I’m losing sleep.

[I suppose I should provide an update to Pyewacket’s peeing problem for those who may have missed it. A trip to the vet confirmed her peeing outside of the box was not “creative thinking” on her part, but was behavioral in nature. The vet suggested I keep doing what I started the night before: sequestering her in a small room with only her food, water, bed, and litter box until she learned to use ONLY the litter box. After every couple days without any “creative peeing”, I expanded her territory to include some of the areas and items once peed-on (but now cleaned). After a successful week she was given full access again.

It’s been a couple weeks since the visit to the vet, and one whole week out of kitty confinement, and all seems well. In fact, the sequestering seems to enhanced her already sweet disposition, she’s even more cuddly than before.]

Now to explain why the phrase “It’s ALIVE!” is running incessantly through my head…

At night when it’s time to go to sleep and I snuggle in bed, Pyewacket thinks this is A: The Time of The Great Grooming, and B: The Time of The Attack of The Bed Sheets

While both of those titles are a bit self-explanatory, I feel the need to further elaborate.

The Time of The Great Grooming

The Time of The Great Grooming, in bed and propped against my *sleeping* legs for support.

In regards to The Time of The Great Grooming, But, wait! There’s more…

I’ve been adopted by a cat named Pyewacket

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She adopted me. Really.

I say the park stray kitten adopted me because she showed up at my doorstep, spent a couple days checking me out, and then moved in.

Now she doesn’t want to go outside. Ever.

The Rangers and I first noticed her in the park about four days earlier. I tried a few times to coax her over to me, but she would have none of it.

Last weekend I dreamed about Checkers for the first time since her passing, if ever. It was a good dream, I got to hold her, she was happy and sitting in her favorite spot in the RV.

The next morning I went outside to empty the holding tanks (so I could take a shower without the water coming up the drain), when I see the stray kitten dart under my car. I look underneath the car, but don’t see her.

???

Then the chassis started meowing.

So I meowed back. What was I supposed to do? Don’t pretend you wouldn’t have meowed to the chassis, too.

Again the chassis meowed. So, again, I meowed in return.

This meowing back and forth went on for a while. I put out food, she came down from inside the chassis and ate her weight in cat food. While she ate, I went to take that shower (before my odor could scare her off). At that time she was hiding up in the RV chassis.

When I came outside an hour later, she was napping on my doorstep.

?!?!

The first scene replayed (meowing, eating), and then I went inside, leaving the door open. This happened next… But, wait! There’s more…

The Squirrel Circus is in town.

Kernut the Blond Posted on by

It’s in town because I made the Squirrel Circus here. No, this isn’t another story about that ex-boyfriend who went off to join the circus. You’re welcome.

This post really is about squirrels I got to jump through hoops, sort of. It’s more like running through tubes and boxes than jumping through hoops, but close enough.

At the state park I’m camped at, my volunteer job (in exchange for free RV parking) is to sell permits, help customers, stock shelves, tidy up the place, etc. In the downtime I started building a Squirrel Obstacle Course.

No lie.

When Park Officials come to check how the park is doing, I tell them it’s our Squirrel Enrichment Program. One asked if I had a degree in Animal Psychology.

BWAAHAHAHAAA!

The squirrel acrobats are: PeeWee (a tame-ish female, currently pregnant again, and mother of at least one of the following squirrels), Jr. (aka “Hangin'” <— ahe name the Rangers gave him), Rocky (a male, very skittish), and Cinnamon (a female, also very skittish).

The Squirrel Obstacle Course/Habitrail is perched on a picnic table, right in front of the office entrance. You can’t miss it when you walk in.

The Squirrel Obstacle Course in an early phase.

The Squirrel Obstacle Course in an early phase. That’s a squirrel in the cantilevered tube on the right.

As you can see it’s made from used drink bottles and cardboard boxes. And a LOT of tape.

It’s my pride and joy. But, wait! There’s more…