This is another episode of Tales From the RV Park, stories from the RV parks where I’ve camped. Disclaimer: These stories are fictitious, happened in nightmares, are hearsay, and/or are what others recounted to me. I am part Irish, so there is likely a good deal of exaggeration. The names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent. There is no relation to persons living, dead, or in jail, even if you think so. In other words, don’t bother trying to sue me.
It’s a shame you can’t buy common sense like you can buy deodorant.
Yes, folks it’s true, I have left Cow-Chicken-Oil Town and am now at a new one. Still in Texas, this town has oil, but no cows or chickens! The new RV park is larger, has a pool, a rec room, and more people! This means new fodder for Tales.
It will take some time to find out what goes on behind the scenes here, but stay tuned. Meanwhile, I will share a brief, somewhat uninteresting, final story from the old park, and then tell you about Pye’s ride over here to the new park. But, wait! There’s more…
We interrupt our regularly scheduled episode of the Online Dating Chronicles to bring you …this post. I don’t know what to call it. I can’t make this stuff up. Even if I could be that dishonest, I’m neither that creative nor bright.
In the latest episode of
OMGOMGOMGOMG crazy shit Pye does The Life of Pye, she stowed away in the chassis/undercarriage of my RV for almost 150 miles and 3.5 hours!
*blond lemming faints*
Friday morning, on my way to meet up with a group of other single RVers, I packed up the RV for the first time in awhile. I was excited to finally be taking the RV on the road after many months. But, like so many things, this packing-up made Bipolar Pye nervous. (Last time, when I moved from one side of the park to the other, she peed on the driver’s seat because she was so freaked out.)
This time, she took to her favorite sleeping and hiding spot behind the couch/hide-a-bed. It’s quite safe and secluded because the only way in is by diving down the small space between the back of the couch and the wall. And the only way I can retrieve her is by partially unfolding the couch/hide-a-bed, then crawling under and pulling her out. Knowing she was fairly well sequestered, I continued packing up the RV.
I didn’t think she would leave the comfort of her hard-to-get-out-of hiding spot, but much like my last choice of dates, I was wrong. After pulling in the RV slides, I went outside and checked everything. When I opened the door to come back in Pye leaped out! But, wait! There’s more…
Editor’s Note: Every year my cat writes a Holiday Letter From Da Kitteh. This started several years ago after I received a very proper Holiday Letter from some relatives.
I used to write an English version and an LOL Speak version. I would then place the version I thought most favored by the recipient into their Christmas card, and mail it off. I did get some strange looks from a few friends that first year, but most took it in stride. (Eh, screw ’em if they can’t take a joke. I’m too
old secure to care.)
LOLSpeak, also known as LOLCat when used by cats. The singing is optional.
That first year, I sent the LOL Speak version to my 86-year-old grandmother on a whim. Not owning a computer or being tech savvy, she had never seen LOL Speak.
But that didn’t matter; she LOVED it. My 86-year-old grandmother “got” LOL Speak. She said she laughed so hard tears streamed down her face. She brought it down to dinner at the retirement home and read it to her dinner companions, who also loved it. She loved the letter more than anyone else has ever expressed to me. Nothing makes me happier than to know my writing makes someone laugh, and especially that it did that for my grandmother.
Last year, my grandmother, and Checkers, my co-pilot and the original writer of the Holiday Letter From Da Kitteh, both passed away. I couldn’t bring myself to do a letter.
This year, Pye will write her first Holiday Letter From The Kitteh. I hope you enjoy it as much as my grandmother would have. But, wait! There’s more…
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.” (These photos are crappier than usual because I used my cell phone. YES, that’s my excuse.)
“Mmmm, kitteh fink boot smell gud.”
“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…
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 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…
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.
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.
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 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”.
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.
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 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, 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…