tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5607774883606786032024-03-04T22:10:53.646-08:00They Call Me MarthaKathy's Klotheslinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17881966393157941515noreply@blogger.comBlogger14125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-560777488360678603.post-17381702224582113102016-03-07T18:59:00.001-08:002016-03-07T18:59:30.288-08:00<span style="font-size: x-large;">I never located that circular saw. But, I griped so much that HeWho unearthed the hidden saw and did the cut for me.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I was all prepared with pictures and I cannot seem to download them. So, I will just have to use my words to tell you about my new project. You will recall that I recently decided to take my sewing room apart.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">It all started with those cabinets left over from the kitchen re-do. Four upper cabinets, just waiting to be used. I pondered a bit and decided they should go in the sewing room. On the wall that has a high shelf that spans from wall to wall. That would have to go, along with some other things. One of the things in the way of progress was a big chest of drawers.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">When I was very young I thought people were saying "chester drawers". I thought that for the longest time and wondered why it was a chester drawer. At least chest of drawers makes sense. I am rambling. This particular chest of five drawers was given to me by my mother-in-law. When we got it, it was green. We called it the incredible hulk. You know, because it was big and green.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">HeWho says it was around as long as he could remember and I am thinking it was around long before HeWho entered the world. HeWho is almost 63. This is a sturdy piece of furniture, but the size made it hard to find a place to put it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Well, would you look at that, the picture finally downloaded! Here it is without the drawers. I decided to downsize it to fit next to the chair of HeWho empties the contents of his pockets willy nilly. This will provide a nice large surface for him to clutter.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I carefully taped it in preparation for the saw. I cut the top two drawers off. I had planned to carefully remove the top and use it on the new side table. Then I got to thinking ...... what was to become of the two drawers left? Just wouldn't be right to simply discard them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">They don't make them like they used to! Since I had this piece of furniture ready to cut for several days as the war over the use of the saw raged on, I had plenty of time to ponder this situation. It came to me in the wee hours of my non-slumber.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I re-thought my design and decided to eliminate the top drawer of the three drawer chest, leaving an open shelf for the lap top and other electronics. I decided to make a hole in the back to bring the power surge strip onto the shelf. The other two drawers can be used for out of season clothes, or whatever. Extra storage is always good.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">This left the top of the dresser and an extra drawer. I am loathe to toss anything that could be useful, so I decided to keep the top intact and add some legs and use it at the end of my bed. I already have a bench there, but this would add storage to that area. I can use those drawers for linen!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">But there is still that extra drawer from the other unit going next to his recliner. Another night to ponder and I found the solution! I will use that other drawer to put atop the new linen chest at the end of my bed ...... and make a dog bed!!!!!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Feeling ever so clever, I spent most of Sunday afternoon scraping and sanding the linen chest. I painted it with three layers of red and cream and tan paints. Today I worked on the drawers and the dog bed. The chest now sits happily at the foot of my bed. The dog bed is still drying and will be fitted with padding and blankets tomorrow before I attach it to the top of the chest.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I have visions of a dog or two deciding to sleep in this new dog bed at the foot of my bed. I will post a picture of my new project tomorrow ...</span>Kathy's Klotheslinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17881966393157941515noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-560777488360678603.post-44358616163597013842015-07-15T08:17:00.000-07:002015-07-15T08:18:48.134-07:00Cats Rule, Dogs Drool<span style="font-size: x-large;">Dear Maya,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">So much has happened since we last communicated. Well, I communicated with you.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">The giant puppy continues to leave a path of destruction in his wake. He still terrorizes the other dogs. But, now Gramma has taken a sudden liking to the gangly puppy. She let's him come inside! She let's him sit beside her on the couch!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Cujo is quite miffed at this turn of events. He is not a fan of the puppy to begin with, but sharing the affections of his human was definitely not on his list of things to do. So far, Gramma has managed to teach the puppy to sit and shake hands. Sort of, at least. He will sit, but when it comes to the handshake, he falls to one side before offering his paw. He looks really dumb when this happens. But, Gramma says it is endearing.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I am starting to wonder about Gramma's mental health. She has a birthday coming up and I hear she is quite old. Well, you know how old people are, they start to forget things and such. Although ..... she never seems to forget to put me outside every night and to fill my food dish. While it is true that I am an avid hunter, I still prefer my kibble. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Gramma has been known to complain about the cost of my food, saying I should eat what I kill. I have never heard her complain about the cost of dog food! She buys some tasty kibble for me, it is true, and I do enjoy eating while she scratches my head affectionately. But, she buys three kinds of this dog food! And dog treats! Where is my treat, I ask you? Never you mind that I confess to stealing from the dogs bowl. And I have indulged myself with a stolen dog treat or two.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">So, have your sisters resigned themselves to a puppy free household? Gramma had very few pets when she was growing up. She told me that her mother would not allow cats! She had a cat from time to time that was given to her, but they were banned to the out of doors, never to know the comforts of indoors. A soft bed to cuddle with your human is quite soothing after a long night of hunting.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Gramma seems to have made up for her lack of pets since she is all grown up and has her own household, if the number of pets now residing here is any indication.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I hope your are enjoying your felines and that all of you will come soon for a visit. I remember you girls from previous visits when I was just a small kitten. Gramma says you girls have grown quite a bit since I last saw you.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Sincerely, Martha, The Boy Cat</span>Kathy's Klotheslinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17881966393157941515noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-560777488360678603.post-39858783372933365052015-07-02T15:11:00.000-07:002015-07-02T15:11:55.724-07:00Who Needs Puppies?<span style="font-size: x-large;">Hi, Maya, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Martha, The Boy Cat here. I have not written a post in such a long time, I fear I may have forgotten how. Wall-E is the writer around here. Let me assure you, he never misses a chance to remind us all of the fact that he wrote a book.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I can spin a tale or two myself, though. Last week I heard Gramma telling Miss Martha (whose name I share) about a call from your sisters. As I recall, they wanted Gramma to convince your mom to let them have a puppy. Gramma seemed to think they were adorable, but admitted to Miss Martha that she would never interfere with the decisions of the parents of her grandchildren.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">After much thought, I decided to write a letter to you, since you would appear to be the most sensible of the three sisters. After all you did not participate in the shenanigans of your two younger siblings. Gramma tells me that yours is a cat household. This sounds like a very good idea to me. I am the lone feline here. I will admit, though, that being the only one has it's advantages.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">So, I decided to present to you an argument for NOT getting the aforementioned puppy. Have you any idea how bothersome they can be? I have heard all about puppy breath and dreamy eyes, but do they bother to tell you how much a puppy can poop? Not to mention the puddles on the floor. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Of course when they are sleeping, everything is great. Their sweet limp bodies draped over whatever they fell asleep on. But, about the time that sweet puppy breath is history, they start jumping on everyone and their claws dig into your skin. If that isn't bad enough, they start to chew on everything. Shoes seem to be the favorite item to destroy.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Are you wondering how I might have acquired all this knowledge? Did I neglect to mention that we have a puppy in residence </span><span style="font-size: x-large;">right this very minute? We do and he is awful, let me tell you! He is already bigger than me and I have heard tell that I am a fine specimen of a large feline. One lady even mentioned that I might be as big as a bobcat. I do not know this cat called Bob, but he must be pretty big.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">This puppy called Smoke has huge feet, so that when he jumps up on Gramma he leaves a big muddy stain. This does not bode well for his future. He has already been banned from the inside. He chewed up Gramma's favorite shoes!! Two pair of her comfy Dawgs that she likes to roam around the grounds in. He terrorizes Cujo and Wall-E. They have taken to going out the front door to take care of business. Toni Louise is not likely to give in to him. She has bitten him a couple of times.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Funny thing is, it doesn't seem to bother him. Gramma calls him Goofy and Dumbledorf and all sorts of silly names. His antics have gotten him into lots of trouble and his latest stunt may just get him removed from our lives entirely ....... hope runs deep. He decided that when Gramma hung out laundry to pull things off the line. This did not sit too well with Gramma. I heard her ask him if he thought she was playing tug of war with him. I have no idea what she was thinking. It was like she suggested this to him. I noticed that she used the clothes dryer today. It was sunny. This sounds like surrender to me, unless she is planning a new attack against this puppy monster that involves a fence or maybe chains.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Don't worry about me, Maya, I can take care of myself with the demon dog. Remember, I have all my claws and my teeth! I am not afraid to use them, already have, as a matter of fact. That animal will not get the best of me, no matter how big he gets! I hope you find this information useful and that you share it with your sisters. I hope to communicate with you again soon in the near future --- I will give you updates on this puppy as he grows bigger.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Yours Truly, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Martha, The Boy Cat</span>Kathy's Klotheslinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17881966393157941515noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-560777488360678603.post-1672216311893255162012-12-23T15:07:00.001-08:002012-12-23T16:04:09.267-08:00Dear Jailynn<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Dear Jailynn,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I am Martha, the boy cat. I live here with Gramma and Papa in Missouri. I have yet to make your acquaintance ....... but I am less than a year old, so there are lots of folks that I haven't met. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I have always lived here with Gramma, but to me she is my mommy. She is the only mommy I know. I got lost from my cat mommy when I was very small and Gramma took care of me. Now I kind of rule the kampground. Oscar sneered at me, but he knows it to be true. I am able to roam the grounds freely and he is not. That pretty much means that I am the top dog here ........ so to speak, as I am not really a dog. Although I do like dog food ........</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Today, while I was helping Gramma in the store, I saw a big box and I jumped to the table it sat upon and tried to open it. You see, I like to sit in boxes. So I was about the business of ripping the tape with my claws when she caught me. I am not allowed to display my magnificent claws while indoors and I thought Gramma had gone into the house. She began scolding me about the whole claw thing and inquired about my desire to perhaps have mine removed. Of course I don't!!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Then she told me that the box that had caught my attention was about to be shipped to you. She said your name and I was confused, since I have not met you. But, not to worry, Gramma likes to talk. Doesn't matter if you listen, she will just chatter on and on. I feel as if I know you and your mom and your dad now. She told me that your dad once lived with her when he was a baby and then a little boy. She took care of him, like she took care of me. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">She even told me what was in the mystery box. There are presents for you, Jailynn, for Christmas! I am not sure what presents are, but I want some, too! Gramma reminded me of all the time we spent sewing in her special sewing room. No dogs allowed in there, but I like to lay on the rug near Gramma while she makes things. So, I know what is in this box that will be headed to your house.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"> I remember all the things that Gramma made for you, because she showed them all to me while she worked. You must be a very special girl. Gramma says that lots and lots of love goes into all the things she makes for her grandgirls. I think that maybe Gramma has lots of fun thinking about each of you as she sews. I know I enjoy spending my time watching her as I nap on and off. It is what cats do, you know.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">So, Gramma says that I should wish you a Merry Christmas and end my letter so that we can go in the house and stoke the fire. I hope to meet you in person very soon!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Your uncle cat, Mr. Martha</span>Kathy's Klotheslinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17881966393157941515noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-560777488360678603.post-22172949506435718222012-10-31T10:21:00.000-07:002012-10-31T10:21:37.866-07:00Who Is Winnie The Pooh?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSsheJprmvTYvxjMGFw85X52D-rwP1cu8tqa-CZ_Aacf-GJDpFXm_c8hnRowzJlc3Cge3U7yA2BjGpF9ePNDC9362ziuaMBsf03MorM7_LI-jQUhBtkQclaK7OXs5GXjN9MizAJaN6WGOA/s1600/020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSsheJprmvTYvxjMGFw85X52D-rwP1cu8tqa-CZ_Aacf-GJDpFXm_c8hnRowzJlc3Cge3U7yA2BjGpF9ePNDC9362ziuaMBsf03MorM7_LI-jQUhBtkQclaK7OXs5GXjN9MizAJaN6WGOA/s320/020.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I spent the entire night outside last night! It was exhilarating. Gramma has this pile of wood scraps that she refuses to part with. Papa offered to burn it for her, but she would have none of that!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Personally, I like having things to climb around on. Gramma makes things out of the wood pieces and she seems to like to move it around and stack and re-stack it. I like to climb on it and knock pieces down.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">It was while I was playing atop Gramma's pile of wood that I spied Tigger, the unfriendly cat walking in MY yard!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">There he is slinking around, looking for me!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I am hiding! He will not find me behind the compost bin. I will jump out when he least expects it and scare him. In honor of Halloween. Gramma explained this holiday to all us animals. We don't have trick or treaters out here in the kampground when the holiday is in the middle of the week.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Oscar says this is a good thing. He told me that Gramma has costumes for all us animals. He says that she custom made one for him. It is a bun and ketchup and mustard ...... he is the hot dog. Wall-E says this is a fine example of irony, since Oscar is a dachshund and is commonly referred to as a wiener dog. I don't get it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">All I know is that we will not be wearing these things called costumes. I am sure I could get out of one anyway. I think. I remember when I was a very small kitten and Gramma fed me with that bottle and she wrapped me up in a piece of cloth. She called it swaddling and said she did it so I couldn't scratch her while I ate. I didn't like it too much and no matter how hard I wiggled I couldn't get out. Gramma is very clever. Wall-E told me so. He knows these things, after all, he did write a book.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Wonder what kind of costume Gramma would put on Tigger? Gramma says he should be Winnie The Pooh. She laughed and laughed. Who is Winnie The Pooh?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I will be a cat. Not a wicked cat, or a scaredy cat. I will just be the boy cat called Martha. That's me!</span>Kathy's Klotheslinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17881966393157941515noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-560777488360678603.post-76143195279804725502012-09-08T19:10:00.000-07:002012-09-08T19:10:10.425-07:00Tree Climbing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Here I am, walking around our yard. See that yellow thing on the end of the hose? If you ever see one and a person picks it up ........ RUN! Gramma thinks it is fun to squirt me with water. I don't see the humor in it, but she laughs every time she does it!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">"Martha, NO!" I hear this a lot. That twig I am playing with, well, Gramma says it is a tree, a baby tree. She was not happy that I removed all the leaves on it. I was having a great time with this twig that was stuck in the ground. When I pulled it over, it would snap back. Gramma didn't like my game. She said that I was about the business of killing trees. Not really, I was just having fun.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Gramma does not allow me to use my claws inside. She says that they are only for outside use. If I stick them out, she puts me in my kennel and calls it solitary confinement. I am supposed to think about what I have done and not do it again. Although I am not fond of this punishment, I must admit that I do think about using my claws before I extend them. And ....... I NEVER use them on Gramma!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">When I am outside, it is necessary to use them. For instance, should you want to climb a tree, claws are very handy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I use them to grab the tree and work my way up into the tree. Look how high I can go!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Wait a minute ........ I can go up and up and up, but, how do you get down out of the tree? I guess I didn't think this through. Gramma says I have giant paws and have not grown into them yet. Maybe that has something to do with it. I am not sure. All I know is that I am up and don't have any idea how to get down.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Papa rescued me. Gramma says that Papa rescues travelers all the time. So, am I a traveler? I thought I was a cat. A boy cat named Martha.</span><br />
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<br />Kathy's Klotheslinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17881966393157941515noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-560777488360678603.post-76307126914797209222012-08-13T18:10:00.000-07:002012-08-13T18:10:17.555-07:00Rock Climbing and Fat Cats<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">It has been awhile since I have blogged (that is what Gramma calls it and she knows about these things), but here I am.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Gramma says I have grown. I suppose she is right, because I can easily climb those big rocks in front of our store. I can get down by myself, too!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I can also jump from one rock to the other. Gramma says that I am very agile. Agile? Don't know about that, but I can jump really far.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Sometimes I sit very still on a rock and watch Gramma pull weeds. Papa says this is her most favorite pass time. Well, my most favorite pass time is jumping on Gramma hands when she least expects it. Sometimes she will scold me and put me back inside ....... but she always brings me back outside after a few minutes. She says it is my time to think about what I am doing to annoy her.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I think about it ........ I think about better ways to do it!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Papa brought a rug home for me. Oh, wait, Gramma said it was not for me. Whatever, I like my new rug. It is quite comfy. I have taken a few naps on it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">It is a fine place to have a bath, too. Gramma tells me that I am due for a real bath. I have tried to tell her that this is how cats take a bath, but she says my tongue does not do a good enough job.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">A man came in our store today and took pictures of me! Gramma let him, she said he was not a 'pet'ophile or anything. Both of them laughed and laughed, but I don't get it. She told the man that I thought I was a dog! I do not. I know quite well that I am a cat, I just act like a dog when I am with the dogs. I thought it would be the right thing to do, since Toni Louise is not all that smart.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I need to go check my food dish. Gramma only fills it three times a day. I could eat more, really I could. Then I could be a fat cat!</span>Kathy's Klotheslinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17881966393157941515noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-560777488360678603.post-13854247965791881642012-07-23T13:59:00.000-07:002012-07-23T14:00:13.551-07:00Company<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Martha, the boy cat here. It has been a very interesting week. We had company. Gramma was all excited and said that her girls were coming. I had no idea of the excitement that was about to descend upon us!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Gramma got up early and did not take time to play with me. I thought that was odd. She always likes to go out to the gardens in the morning. She lets me go along and she pulls some weeds and picks some fruit and vegetables. She likes to start sprinklers, too. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Sprinklers are fun. I am not afraid of water. Oscar says it would be useless to have a fear of water in Gramma's world. She insists on bathing all of us. Oscar told me that he tried growling and biting at Gramma. She was not impressed by his show of force and reminded him that she was not afraid to bite him back. He said that this was very true. She did bite him. Wall-E says the same thing happened to him. She only bit them once and they never bit her again. I hope she doesn't bite me .......</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">But, back to the gardens. Gramma lets me ride to different gardens with her on the golf cart. She will let me play while she takes a look at the plants and places the sprinklers just so. Sometimes she will yank a couple of weeds out of the ground. I have heard her say that it doesn't count unless you get the root. She counts them. I hear her count to ten, then she will turn the water on. Gramma says that if she pulls ten weeds out of each garden every day that she should be able to get ahead of those weeds soon. It doesn't look like she is winning if you ask me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">So this morning last week, she fed me and gave me fresh water, then told me to stay out of her way. That was rude, don't you think? She stayed in the kitchen and cooked all morning. She mopped the floors and changed my litter box and all the while she was watching the clock on the wall. Papa was in and out and would ask if she had talked to someone she called Jeffrey. She told him that the plane had landed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I was so confused. What is a plane, what is landed and who is this Jeffrey? I tried climbing up Gramma's leg with my claws. It is a new trick I recently learned to do in a tree. She did not seem to appreciate my new ability. She called it shenanigans. I thought it was climbing. Maybe it is called something different when you do it on a person's leg. I felt kind of bad, cause I made blood come onto her skin. Oscar and Wall-E licked it off. I thought it was very kind of them to tend to Gramma's owies, but she kept saying, "Stop licking me!" to them. I just can't figure this woman out.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">She went outside and said she was going to set the sprinklers. I thought it must be time for our morning play, but she used her foot to push me back into the store! Rude!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">All of a sudden there were people in the store! Big people and little people and Gramma was hugging all of them. Little voices were calling out to Gramma. The dogs were barking and then Papa joined in and the hugs continued. Finally Gramma noticed me and introduced me to all these people. Jeffrey is Gramma's son. Diane is Jeff's wife and Gramma Barb is Diane's mother. Got all that? Cause I was confused. Then there were three little girls. Maya is the oldest. She was more interested in Wall-E than me, if you can believe that. Poor girl is lacking in taste, Wall-E was all nice to her and told her he was not fond of me either.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Jada is next. Jada likes to dance. She was going to a competition. She liked me okay, but she was busy with other things. She was petting the dogs, too.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">This is Zara. She is crazy about me. My kind of girl. She could not keep her hands off me. She held me and played with me the whole entire day. I lingered under the dinner table while they ate and got some very interesting crumbs. I think I like this whole company thing. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I am still not sure who is who. I just focused on the ones who wanted to partake of my charm. I think that maybe Zara and I bonded. Oscar tells me that there are cats at Zara's house. Big cats. Bigger than me. I am not afraid of these big cats. I am very strong and can climb. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Wall-E says that he would enjoy seeing me put in my place by these big cats. He admitted that he was scared of them. Oscar says that Wall-E should be nicer to me, since I have claws. Oscar is not afraid of anything, well, except Gramma. Must have something to do with her biting him. I am not afraid of Gramma. Okay, maybe just a little. She does feed me, you know.</span>Kathy's Klotheslinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17881966393157941515noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-560777488360678603.post-66286687848318019642012-07-19T10:43:00.001-07:002012-07-19T10:43:41.807-07:00Hunting Hands and The Name Game<span style="font-size: x-large;">Gramma likes her gardens. She lets me come outside with her and play. I like to hide and watch her hand as she pulls the things she calls weeds out.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I stay very still and hold my breath ......... then when she least expects it, I jump up and pounce on her hand!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">It is great fun. Well, I thought so, anyway. Gramma says that I am trampling her flowers and she will not tolerate it. Flowers, weeds, they all look the same to me. Papa agrees with me, but said I should not tell Gramma that. Gramma tells me to stop with the trampling, then she says that I should consider myself warned ........ then she tosses me out of her garden with a handful of weeds. Papa says she is being cruel to me, but she reminds him that my mom cat would do the same thing to teach me things and that he should just be grateful that she does not bite me back when I bite her.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I thought about that. Her teeth are bigger than mine .......... and while it is true that mine are very sharp and hers are not, I don't think I want her to bite me! Her jaws are a lot bigger than mine and it would hurt. I try very hard not to bite Gramma. I just bite Papa. He puts his hand over my face and tells me "NO". Pretty painless</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">As I hid in Gramma's garden, the one with those tall plants that she calls "tiger lilies", I happened to see this big cat. Gramma told me that tigers were cats, and that she found it ironic that I chose to hide in the tiger lilies, so I wondered if this was a tiger. This cat, that I think may be a tiger, is the same color of the flowers that bloom at the top of theses tiger lily stalks.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I watch this cat that just might be a tiger. He looks familiar to me, this big cat. I almost fall asleep hiding in the tiger lilies and thinking very hard about this big cat. I know I have seen him somewhere. I close my eyes and concentrate. I remember being in the woods when I was very small. I remember the smell of the trees and the dirt and my mom cat. I would lay close to her as she fed me and licked me and purred.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I would listen to my mom cat talking to another cat while I would be falling asleep next to her. I think it might have been this cat, that might be a tiger. My eyes were not open long before I came to live with Gramma, but I think I have seen this tiger cat before! </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I called out to him and he turned to look at me. It is him!! "Wait, wait!" I called. "Don't you remember me?" "My name is Martha." "You know my mom cat! Have you seen her, does she miss me?" He looked at me and then he saw Gramma and he walked away.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I was very sad. I heard Gramma call out to him, too. She said his name was Tigger and that she had some food for him. But he ran back into the woods. I guess he must not be hungry.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Gramma called me and I came out from under a plant she calls a hosta. I can hide really good under that plant!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Gramma asked me if I had seen the cat she calls Tigger. She told me that he was my step-father. I must have looked confused, because she told me that my real father was a gray tabby, that showed up one day to see my mom cat. She said that this gray tabby had gotten into a fight with Tigger and claimed my mom cat as his wife. She said my mom cat's name was Pooh. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">At first I thought she said "poop". I was thinking that Gramma was not very nice, naming my mom cat that, but then she said it again. She said that Tigger and Pooh were the names of cartoon characters and that she liked the names. I have just one question ....... does Gramma name everything?</span> Kathy's Klotheslinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17881966393157941515noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-560777488360678603.post-23089610636341962012-07-18T05:15:00.002-07:002012-07-18T05:15:47.153-07:00Mirror, Mirror On The Wall<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">It is me, Martha, here at the kampground. Gramma left this big sofa in the store. Everyone seems to like it. People come in and sit on it and talk to Gramma. I like to sit on the back of it. I can see Gramma and I can look outside to see what is going on.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">The couch is right in front of the window. Not long ago I made an amazing discovery. I can drop from the back of the couch onto the window sill and hide!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I can jump up and grab Papa's hand while he is talking. He doesn't even know I am there! It is almost like being invisible.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">This is a fun game! Papa likes it, too. Not everybody likes it, though. Some folks are just not all that fond of cats! One of Gramma's friends says I am cute, but that she prefers dogs. DOGS! Dogs bark and make all kinds of noise. Gramma is constantly telling Wall-E to stop barking. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I promised Gramma to be on my best behavior when people come in the store, but sometimes I just can't help myself. Little children set my nerves on edge. They like to pick me up and squeal really loud in my ears. I scratch them and bite them. Gramma scolds me, but she never punishes me. She tells me to hide when I hear little children come in. Gramma knows a lot of things. Wall-E told me so.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Gramma says that I am pretty smart for a cat. Oscar says that sometimes Gramma will tell us things just to make us feel good. I think he doesn't like it when Gramma stays in the store with me. He is almost as jealous as Wall-E.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I like to grab things that are dangling out of my reach. Gramma told me that if was as smart as she told me I was, I would leave electrical cords alone.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Why? I don't know. It was just hanging there with those gold shiny things and I thought I should grab it. Gramma keeps telling me to entertain myself while she works ......</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">and that is exactly what I am doing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I am getting very big, Gramma said so. She also said that I will be a very handsome cat. Oscar did not like this. He says that he is the boss of all the animals in our house and that he is the most handsome one of all. He says that Gramma says it all the time, she calls him her handsome devil.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Maybe he should look in a mirror. I did. At first I thought that Gramma had brought that other kitten back. The one that she said was my brother, that looked just like me. I did not care for him. He was a scaredy cat!! He was afraid of me. He would hide from Gramma. How dumb can you get ...... she is the one who gives us food! </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Back to the mirror. It did not take me long to realize that the image I was looking at was me. Gramma did tell me, and she was holding me and I saw her in the mirror, too. I had lots of clues, but, still, I did figure it out pretty fast. Gramma looked at the mirror and said "mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the most handsome cat of all?" Martha is!</span>Kathy's Klotheslinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17881966393157941515noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-560777488360678603.post-89389703632353406392012-07-03T14:36:00.000-07:002012-07-03T14:36:17.401-07:00One Smart Kitten<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Gramma says that I am growing. I still feel small. All the dogs are bigger than me. Gramma and Papa are bigger than me and all the people coming in to the store are bigger than me. Come to think of it, I have yet to meet anyone smaller than me!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I like to ride with Gramma on the golf cart. It doesn't make that awful sound like that great big machine that scooped me off the ground and then dumped me. Gramma says that is engine noise and that it is good for me to have a good healthy fear of them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Healthy? I almost died!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I never try to jump when the golf cart is moving. That is why Gramma lets me ride with her. Gramma loads all kinds of stuff on it and we go and water gardens in the morning. She won't let me go to the ones near the woods with her, she says I might get ticks on me. Toni Louise told me that Gramma is afraid I will run into the woods and she will lose me. Oscar told me that Toni Louise is an escape artist. I am not sure what that means or what it has to do with anything. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I guess she paints. Gramma is always painting something, signs mostly. How would you paint an escape?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">This is one of the signs Gramma painted. Papa had made a sign, but it was small and black with letters carved in it. Gramma explained to Papa that she wanted to draw attention to the sign so that people would read it and not go driving into our yard. Papa said that he thought it should be tasteful and discreet. Gramma pointed out that the tasteful and discreet sign was not getting the job done. Gramma won.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Gramma shouldn't worry about me going into the woods. I don't like to go too far and not be able to see Gramma. Sometimes I lose her in our yard, like when I am running through her basil. I stop and meow real loud and Gramma will answer me. She will say, "Martha, I am over here." I run to her and try to bite her toes, but she sprays me with water.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I like to pretend that I am a tiger in the jungle. Gramma has been letting me play outside all by myself lately. Papa gets all upset about that and says that a car will run over me. Gramma told him that I was smart kitten and that I was afraid of engine noises and would run back to the porch and meow at the door until she let me in. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Oh, I get it! That is why she called my fear of engines healthy! She is right, I am a very smart kitten.</span>Kathy's Klotheslinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17881966393157941515noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-560777488360678603.post-90701848728597510372012-07-01T13:17:00.004-07:002012-07-01T13:17:49.761-07:00Jail House Blues<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">If you recall, I spoke about the canines in my world. Canine means dog, feline means cat. Gramma told me so. I have so much to learn! The canine in the picture is Wall-E. Gramma calls him Wall-E, the wonder dog. According to Gramma, Wall-E is very smart and sensitive. I don't see it, though. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">He does not seem to like me at all. Everytime he is near me, he turns his back to me. Not very polite or sensitive, if you ask me. Not smart, either. With his back to me, he does not see when I am about to attack! </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">He barks at me whenever I sneak past Gramma legs and into the house. Gramma has spoken to him about his annoying bark (her words), but he will not stop until she picks me up and takes me back to her office.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Toni Louise, on the other hand, enjoys my company. Gramma says that Toni Louise is dumb as a door. I don't know about that. She seems pretty smart to me. We like to wrestle around on the floor and she will nip me good if I get too rough. She likes to lick my face clean. I like her fur, it reminds me of my mom cat. Toni will let me snuggle against her neck, too.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Oscar likes to play with me, but only in small doses. He will play for awhile, then growl to let me know we are done. If I try to play more or snuggle with him he will put my whole head in his mouth and take me to the door of Gramma's office and deposit me there. I don't mind his method of moving me so much as I mind his breath! It is really bad! Gramma even notices it when she picks me up.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">She will say, "Oh, Martha, has Oscar been licking you?" Licking me? Is she paying attention? She has explained to me that Oscar is an old guy and that old guys have nasty breath. Maybe he should have some dental work done.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">My breath is sweet and clean. Gramma says so, she also says I have very sharp teeth. Those sharp teeth get me in trouble, too. I like to sink my teeth into Gramma's heels. I don't advise doing this. She will scoop you up before you know and put you in the kennel! And lock the door!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">The kennel used to be my safe place. Gramma had soft towels and toys in it for me, but one day I bit her hand pretty hard and she took all the nice stuff out of my kennel and made me stay in it for a very long time. I fell asleep. When I heard her open my door, I refused to come out. She got down low and stuck her face in the door and asked me if I had thought about what I had done. (No, I didn't, I slept.). When I would not come out, she told me to have it my way, but that I would be spending lots of time in jail if I did not change my ways. I did not believe her.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Maybe I should have listened, because I was back in the kennel that very same day! A little girl tried to pick me up, so I grabbed her arm with my claws and bit her. Gramma thumped me on my head and put me in my kennel. I did not sleep this time. This time I climbed on the door and made strangled mewling sounds. Papa came in and scolded Gramma for leaving in the kennel and let me loose. He told Gramma that she was being cruel. She told him to talk to her after I bit him. He said that I was "just a tiny kitten" and "how bad can it hurt?".</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">So, I bit him. I guess it must have hurt pretty bad, cause he dumped me in jail again. Since then I have come to know every inch of my prison. Not only that, I hear Wall-E whispering about me. He says that the kennel belongs to him. He says that his boy gave it to him and that Gramma should never have let me use it. Until now. He likes the fact that I am being punished in it and says that he is happy to provide the use of his kennel for that very purpose. I do not think we will ever be friends, do you?</span>Kathy's Klotheslinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17881966393157941515noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-560777488360678603.post-49122571569713406842012-06-28T06:20:00.000-07:002012-06-28T06:20:10.611-07:00Safe Places<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">So now that you know how I got my name, here are some pictures of my early days here in the campground. Gramma is holding me and feeding me. She says that I am lazy, because I made her squeeze the bottle to make the milk come out faster.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiuOULHfq0IFqYUbfXMVVzNGOHiulF8MT-rGXr6tBiFlPdSWRxRcEKVqGFa8imEax1ny7qw2OQPDmJ4rhhJqYbJ-VnlkLAEuELUxlRFpkjVyOXx3XeH0dh9LHBG9q5WrSVbzDcXGAPhWDP/s1600/015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiuOULHfq0IFqYUbfXMVVzNGOHiulF8MT-rGXr6tBiFlPdSWRxRcEKVqGFa8imEax1ny7qw2OQPDmJ4rhhJqYbJ-VnlkLAEuELUxlRFpkjVyOXx3XeH0dh9LHBG9q5WrSVbzDcXGAPhWDP/s320/015.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Gramma is purring in my ear. Although she complains about taking care of me, I am pretty sure that she loves me.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPGbcx0MRJ9sNPMp5Qnc5X3ySTU9Bep37oAytRqD-VPZIyxPwm28KR5HHk4H9v8hOg2ehiR-T1uQogq2d0xbd3J3jIusDb5NmJ1uz1sdN0NX9lEqaqTs4wk8Xe1F2TQF31rgNeXrvnpPd3/s1600/005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPGbcx0MRJ9sNPMp5Qnc5X3ySTU9Bep37oAytRqD-VPZIyxPwm28KR5HHk4H9v8hOg2ehiR-T1uQogq2d0xbd3J3jIusDb5NmJ1uz1sdN0NX9lEqaqTs4wk8Xe1F2TQF31rgNeXrvnpPd3/s320/005.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I am sleeping in a flower pot with a towel that Gramma said was one of her dog towels. I did not know what a dog was. I heard some barking coming from behind the door in Gramma's office.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I must have looked curious because Gramma took me in to meet some dogs. There are three of them and I will confess that it was a little overwhelming. There is a black and tan dog named Oscar. He is kind of gruff and rough. He asked Gramma if maybe he should take care of the problem and snap it's neck .......</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I looked around to see what he was referring to and discovered that he was talking about me! Not very welcoming. Gramma scolded him and warned him not to hurt me and he didn't. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Wall-E is the white dog with the most annoying bark. Gramma says it is high-pitched and yippy. He doesn't like me at all. He turns his back to me and is not at all enchanted by my cuteness. Gramma says he is jealous of all the attention I get.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">The other dog is Toni Louise and she scares me. Gramma says she is just a puppy and a very excited one. She wanted to use me as a chew toy!!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Gramma took Wall-E's kennel into her office and set it up under her desk. She told me that it was my safe spot. She put some soft towels in it and everytime I went to sleep she put me in it and shut the door. She was right, I did feel safe. It is nice and dark, like the place my mom cat kept me in. I wonder if I will ever see my mom cat again?</span>Kathy's Klotheslinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17881966393157941515noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-560777488360678603.post-55205010825017362652012-06-27T15:03:00.002-07:002012-06-27T15:03:34.547-07:00The Beginning<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8ALNjDPo4G_VQvNycDDz_oVD2QAfJ-AuQdMno0XzWT9OlkVZaZmOEbnET3nRqtYMgvTQpE5ZaDdemPVXA8wIE_3XBt9mbHJK-6yPYreXhSIWjZQyZIVFyFWWanHeqhCep8EK6P_2iZl2e/s1600/038.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8ALNjDPo4G_VQvNycDDz_oVD2QAfJ-AuQdMno0XzWT9OlkVZaZmOEbnET3nRqtYMgvTQpE5ZaDdemPVXA8wIE_3XBt9mbHJK-6yPYreXhSIWjZQyZIVFyFWWanHeqhCep8EK6P_2iZl2e/s320/038.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I am a cat. My name is Martha. I like people.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8mA_pHka8pdU97BHmFt1VIyINuypjR8sJbCCuJBJ7ZccXMURq124DlApiikHzsmGCNU-xCNGeGChyw2OoAc-ZVrjzbr9869ItiQS-kofERw5dMlB1baK_-i1xk4FHArT6P3R-xl4PaQp6/s1600/003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8mA_pHka8pdU97BHmFt1VIyINuypjR8sJbCCuJBJ7ZccXMURq124DlApiikHzsmGCNU-xCNGeGChyw2OoAc-ZVrjzbr9869ItiQS-kofERw5dMlB1baK_-i1xk4FHArT6P3R-xl4PaQp6/s320/003.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I live in a campground and get to see lots of people. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I remember long ago before I could see. I was in a warm place with my mom cat. She fed me and cleaned me and took care of me. I remember the sound of her purring while I ate. I remember the feel of her sandpaper tongue licking me. I remember feeling safe while I was with her.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">One day my eyes opened and I could see! I saw my mom cat! She was beautiful. Her fur was sleek and black and her eyes shown like emeralds. She would pick me up gently in her mouth and move me from place to place. We lived in the woods in a campground. I had a brother cat, too. He was gray and white like me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Then came the big machine that made lots of noise. The earth vibrated under us and my mom cat got busy looking for a new place to hide us kittens. She took my brother cat first and told me she would return for me. I was all alone. I wasn't too scared. I knew she would come back to get me. But, before she could get back to me something happened!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I stayed right where my mom cat left me and was waiting patiently when, all of a sudden, I was being lifted high in the air! There were branches under me and over me. Up, up, up I went. I was scared now. I could feel myself starting to fall. I tried to hold on, but I didn't know how.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">PLUNK! I hit the ground. It knocked my breath out of me and I am ashamed to say that I also soiled my fur. Before I could blink and take stock of my situation, I felt some hands lifting me. "Oh, no," I thought, "am I going to fall again?" The hand that held me was steady and suddenly there was some soft cloth around me. Then I was moving. Faster than I had ever moved before. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I was still stunned from my fall and I could hear voices and then a chime. The man holding me was handing me over to a woman inside a building. I heard the man ask what we should do, then I heard the woman say to give the little kitten to her. I looked up and saw her. She looked at me and moved all of my legs, then she told me I was fine, just fine. She also told me I only had 8 lives left.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">The woman is called Gramma. She took me to a sink and washed me. She talked to me the whole time, saying I would thank her later. She said I had ticks on my little self and she got them all off. I did feel better after what she called a bath. She held me close and kissed the top of my head, then she asked me what in the world was she going to do with me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">The men went to look for my mom cat and brother cat, but could not find them. Gramma asked all the campers to be on the lookout for my mom cat. She said I needed my mother's milk so that I could be healthy. She asked all the campers if the wanted a kitten. Nobody wanted me. Nobody.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Gramma told Papa (Papa lives with Gramma) to hold me and she went into the kitchen for awhile. When she came back she had a syringe and a small glass with formula in it. She swaddled me in a towel and introduced me to the art of eating from a syringe, telling me that she would buy a proper kitten bottle the next day. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">At first I did not want to swallow this stuff she called formula. I choked a little on it, but Gramma was very patient as she fed me. After I ate enough to please her, Gramma held me up to her neck and made a purring noise while she patted my back. I did not know that people could purr! I burped and fell asleep while Gramma held me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">When I woke up I was hungry again, but my tummy was hurting. I had to pee, but did not know how. Gramma took care of that, too. Not like my mom cat, but it felt the same.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">The next day several people offered to take me home with them, but Gramma said that she had bonded with me and she would be keeping me. All kinds of hands held me. Big hands, little hands, wet hands, cold hands and warm hands. I felt the safest in Gramma's hands. Gramma's hands were soft and kind. They were the hands that fed me and the hands that cleaned me up.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Gramma asked one man holding me if I was a boy or a girl. He flipped me over and spread my back legs ............ "it's a girl" he said. I am not a girl, but I cannot talk, so I didn't say anything. Gramma looked closely at me and said, "Her name is Martha. I will name her after my friend, Martha. It is a good strong name and this is a good strong kitten. Besides that, there is a big "M" on her forehead."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">That is how I got my name. I like my name. Gramma uses it a lot. Whenever I can't see Gramma and I meow, she will call out, "Martha, come here, Martha. I am over here."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">And that is the story of my name.</span>Kathy's Klotheslinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17881966393157941515noreply@blogger.com0