Archive for the 'Belle & Luna & Lilly & Archie' Category

Published by PaintingChef on 15 Jul 2008

Like a furry little reminder of their favorite daughter-in-law.

Dear Lilly…

As you’ve heard countless times, you are an awesomely bad cat. You take misbehaving to an all new level and even though sometimes I want to punt you across the living room, deep down I swell with pride because you? Are totally unique.

You may not realize this but you are going to spend a few days with mommy’s in-laws. And I’d just like to make a few suggestions…

Last night? When you drug the bag of spinach across the kitchen floor and then proceeded to crawl inside and eat half of it? That was hysterical. Make sure you do some of that. And once when I was eating a turkey sandwich and you pulled it clean out of my hand by the tomato? Resurrect that trick too.

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You know how at night you jump up on top of the entertainment center, take a flying leap onto the bed and then wrap your wee little body around my head and purr with all your might with your cold little nose in my ear? More of that too. Aim for the bald guy while you are visiting the in-laws… he’ll LOVE that shit.

Whenever anyone is working on anything that involves pieces and parts, even if they are bigger than your whole body, you steal shit. Go into full-on klepto mode. Bonus points if you steal a utensil off the table. Double bonus points if it is in their hand when you do it.

You calling card seems to be the toilet paper mountain of doom. This usually makes me yell your name surrounded on either side with plenty of dirty nasty words that I learned from the internet. Ignore me for a minute and roll their whole damn house.

Oh so very guilty

Generally when you tear through the living room with your tail all puffed out and bank it off the television in your rush to tackle Luna you don’t cause too much damage. And that’s cool… But if you could practice really hard and figure out how to place your feet just so and change their channel from “All Fox News And Other Republican Shit All The Time” to a little Jon Stewart or Stephen Colbert as you fly through like a crack whore, I will promise you extra treats when I get home.

I’m sure this is all a little confusing to you as normally these are the things that make me go a little stabby in the head. But it’s like I’m there… inside your body… making their lives hell without them even realizing it’s me. So bring on the bad at record levels. Mommy is counting on you.

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Much Love…
Mommy.

Published by PaintingChef on 18 Feb 2008

Because I don’t think she understands that I will do whatever I can to make it be Just Fine.

In the absence of two-legged, mostly hairless children, many of us make due with those of the four-legged, furry variety; myself included. And so aside from the two very moody, yet polar opposite, cats with whom Patrick and I share our home there is Belle. Who we adore and fawn over and take anywhere we are able to bring her. This includes work and Home Depot. (Did you know that you can take dogs to Home Depot. It’s a fantastic thing and suddenly I find myself enjoying the wood and nail-buying trips a wee bit more…)

So in the spirit of full disclosure I should probably go ahead and ‘fess up to being one of those people who hears a very distinct voice for her dog in her head and have, on more than oh… a thousand occasions, vocalized those thoughts which I am certain she is having. I’m pretty sure this makes me just one Christmas sweater away from being a Crazy Dog Lady.

But all of this is just to demonstrate that Belle is very precious to me and very loved by her family. She sleeps in our bed and has a stocking at Christmas. We are crazy. Noted. Moving on.

Sometime between Christmas and New Years (also know as Crazy Time 2007 Full of the Moving Crazies) I was giving Belle a few minutes of her Necessary for Survival Fourteen Hours of Human Contact Daily and noticed a little hard lump on her size. I had a lowercase freak out and then was distracted by yet another box and filed it away in the back of my mind for immediate follow-up just as soon as I could find my damn laundry detergent. And then it kind of slipped my mind until last week when I was sitting at my desk and suddenly I remembered the LUMP! ON THE PUPPY!

I stopped what I was doing right then and found her a vet and made an appointment which was this past Saturday. At 8 am. Which I consider a testament to just how guilty I felt about forgetting the LUMP because I missed The O.C. And 90210.

I have told you about my parents’ golden retriever, Maddie, who was just an amazing animal. She had this beautiful spirit and heart (unless you are one of those people who believe that animals don’t possess such things and then you should probably just go back to pulling the wings off butterflies and kicking puppies, you heartless bastard. You’re a serial killer in training anyway) and made everyone around her happier. But I have a very clear memory of a day when my mother, going through the same daily routine of love and affection, felt a very similar lump and just to be safe had it checked out. And it was not good news. In fact it was very, very bad news and without a very gifted doctor, she probably wouldn’t have lived to be 17 years old.

But while Steve Sanders was meeting Laura Kingman, the crazy blonde pseudo-Kelly Taylor who will eventually try to kill herself over losing a role to Brenda Walsh (which was probably Brenda Walsh’s fault any damn way) I was scheduling surgery for Belle. Most likely No Big Deal surgery during which they will take a little lump of nothingness off her side and While They Are At It clean her teeth and pop a zit or two, And suddenly my lowercase freak out of a couple of months ago has become a Very Big Deal Freak Out during which I am having trouble keeping my mind from wandering to very dark places and thinking the worst. And even though I look at this face and kiss her and tell her that it is all going to be Just Fine… I’m really scared that it isn’t going to be Just Fine at all.

Dammit.  Play with me.

Published by PaintingChef on 14 Dec 2007

Oh good. The UPS guy came.

And it’s time to unpack the lovely Christmas presents I’ve ordered from Uncommon Goods. Have I mentioned that I LOVE the way they pack things? Or that Lilly does too…

Hey. At least I’ve actually done some shopping now. That has to count for something… right?

Published by PaintingChef on 10 Oct 2007

A purely hypothetical situation.

If your long haired, somewhat jumpy but also totally loveable and kind of lump-like dog were to knock over a can of white paint on the front porch and then proceed to walk through it on her way into the house there are a few reactions you should probably NOT have.

1. Scream and freak out so that the aforementioned somewhat jumpy at odd times dog does a lovely little tap dance routine on your parquet floors while you scramble to try and grab her collar and pull her out the door which panics her further and sends paint in even more directions.

2. Because that screaming might possibly attract the attention of a very bad kitten who spends every waking minute of her life looking for trouble.

3. And when bad kitten discovers the irresistible carnage in the foyer you might panic and scoop her up and throw her into the half bath where you determine she might cause the least amount of damage.

4. So when you finally calm the fuck down you toss the dog outside and get to wiping up the floor all the while not-so-silently thanking Sherwin-Williams for the wonders of water-based paint.

5. Until you remember the dog and her jumpiness and the loud noises outside so out the house you go (barefoot… through the spilled paint) only to discover her making laps around the house building up a crust of leaves and dirt congealed in the fast-drying paint coating her paws and tail.

6. So you take her around to the back of the house and hose her off rolling your eyes at the painters laughing at you and your predicament.

7. And then when you finally get the dog AND yourself to a mostly paint-free state you kind of just wish you’d taken pictures first because your husband will NEVER believe this one.

8. But you both go back inside and finish cleaning up the paint.

9. And eventually, like an hour later, you remember that poor kitten (in the tiny bathroom) who now has permanently white paws.

10. At least until that hair grows out.

11. So you all just sit down and have some damn ice cream because haven’t we all been through enough already?

12. And the next day you find paint behind your ear and briefly consider not washing it off just to prove that this really happened.

You know… ALLEGEDLY.

Published by PaintingChef on 04 Oct 2007

Post-op report.

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Lilly wants you all to know that she is recovering nicely after her surgery. However… she does not appreciate receiving surgery she so obviously did not need as she is perfectly adorable and sweet and clearly did not require “fixing.”

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She is also not pleased with the time she spent this morning being blamed for lost keys. She asks that, in the future, would you please find your own damn keys as she has only two interests at that obscene time of day and neither of them are misplaced keys unless misplaced keys is some sort of code for “chewing on your toes” or “knocking shit off the dresser.”

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Furthermore, unless you are about to suddenly become a magically delicious steak sandwich, would you mine putting that damn camera away? I get it. I’m adorable.

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