Author: Mr. Bo

For those of you new to this blog, you’re probably thinking, “Just what am I looking at here?” For those of you who have been with me since the beginning, you know: It’s what little is visible of me when I’m in my “safe spot,” which lies between a bookcase and the ceiling in the basement. It’s where I go when I feel most threatened.

So why am I here on such a beautiful day, when we have no visitors, and no thunderstorms, which are the usual reasons that I retreat to this space?

Because our neighbors are playing Paul Bunyan today! We have heard nothing but the sound of chain saws, trees thudding to the ground, and then wood chippers going about their grisly business since early this morning. Even Mama G woke up swearing like a sailor! The poor thing apparently can get by on a mere 7 hours of sleep, but the 5 she got last night is just too little for her. I can’t imagine making it through the day on less than 15, but then I don’t have to work, so I’ not sweating it too much. That ruckus next door has to stop soon!

I don’t understand why humans love to cut down trees. Don’t they know that trees are good for the environment and provide much-needed shade in the summer? And besides, they’re fun to climb, or so I hear.

Just try not to blast your fingers off in the process. Yes, it’s time once again for my least-favorite holiday, when humans consume lots of strange beverages and set off loud, fiery things. I’ll probably be spending most of the night hiding in the basement, as usual.

I celebrate the Fifth of July.

 

Well it’s Day Four of the heat wave and I’m still uncomfortable. Who knew cooling off could be so difficult?

What? Oh, I’m supposed to be on the other side of this contraption?

So was it hot enough for you yesterday? I know I was pretty miserable! Those Two fled to an air-conditioned movie theater, leaving me to fend for myself.

Then I remembered hearing that strange human phrase “fight fire with fire,” and I decided it wouldn’t be much of a stretch to fight heat with heat. I jumped onto the warm countertop above the running dishwasher and stretched out to give it a go.

So did my idea work? In a word, no.

 

 

 

As you can see, next to the toilet would probably be a more accurate description of how the events unfolded.

So there I was last night, just chilling out as usual, when a hard rain suddenly began pounding the house. Then the flashes of light and rumbling started, and the house began shaking. Well not to be outdone, I started shaking too!

Mama C found me in an upstairs bathroom, cowering next to the toilet, trembling. She was upset by the sight of me, and even more upset that there wasn’t much she could do to console me, although she tried her best.

Eventually she decided to put a towel next to me, thinking it would comfort me.

Mama G was at work at the time, but when Mama C told her what had happened, Mama G suggested they look into getting me something called a ThunderShirt. I don’t really like the sound of that. Besides, Mama G always has a shirt on, and she’s afraid of storms, too.

I’m so happy it’s sunny today.

 

 

My Mamas always like to say that I’m a “big boy,” or, if they really want to feed my ego, they call me a “Big Cat.” Yes, that’s capital B and C, as though I’m in the same company as lions, tigers, jaguars, leopards and cheetahs. Oh yeah, I like that comparison!

So today when Mama G saw me all sprawled out on the bedroom floor, she decided to see just how big I am. I’m not sure I measured up to her expectations, because when I saw that camera coming, I kind of recoiled.

Looks like I was about 28 inches or so by the time she snapped a shot of me, but it turns out the longest cat, according to Wikipedia, was about 48 inches long, so I’m not even close.

Still, when I hear Those Two talk, I feel pretty big and important. But this whole photo shoot was pretty boring.

 

This is a true story. Really.

When Those Two moved into this house, back in 2004, they agreed on most everything when it came to decorating — except these curtains. Mama C thought they looked cheap, but Mama G saw beauty in them. Or so the story goes, since I wasn’t around at the time. But I know it’s true.

The curtains are in the room that serves as their “office,” a sunny little space dominated by a large desk and shelves of books, and possessing a delightful view of the woods out back. Mama G imagined this as a place where she would be inspired to do a lot of writing. Mama G likes to say that she was born to write. She pictured herself at the desk, tapping madly away at the keyboard, trying to keep up with the profound thoughts that spilled forth like a burst dam, those sheer curtains dancing behind her in the summer breeze.

Mama C let her have her curtains. Funny thing is, I seem to be the only one doing any writing in this room.

 

I know Those Two are up to something. They’ve been spending the last few weeks going through drawers and closets and throwing all kinds of things out. And I mean a LOT of things! I keep hearing them use the word “declutter.”

I don’t know what it all means, but I figure it can’t be good. We cats hate change and disruption of any kind. So I’m just going to sit on things for a while, until I sort it all out.

 

Why does my head look so huge in this photo, compared with the rest of my body? Do you ever have those moments when you look at a photo of yourself and think, “Is that really how I look to others?”

Maybe we’re all too critical of ourselves.

Well, there was really no point to any of this, except to let you know I’m still here. Yes, I’ve been slacking lately. Is it too early to blame it on the heat?

Yes, that’s me, in Mama C’s lap, not a place I usually willingly crawl onto, trying to nurse her back to health. Or at least let her know that I care. She’s been sick the last few days, and I definitely don’t like the raspy tone of her voice, or what’s left of it.

At least yesterday was the perfect day to snuggle with her: it was gloomy and rainy, and coverage of the royal wedding dominated TV. I get a kick out of the whole idea of royalty, if only because it shows how silly humans can be.

Get well, Mama C!