MEOWY CHRISTMAS

Mrrrr Friends,

From our hearth to yours, Happy Holidays of all stripes to you!

Alex and I are happy to be home this year with our people around us and lot of stinky goodness. We haven't opened our presents yet, but we're content knowing that lots of love is always on offer year round. That's what important you know...not the occasional spat because you smelled your cat pal's rear at an indelicate moment, or you ate the rest of her food after she left her bowl, or because she just clubbed you in the head with her big paw for no reason, or she pushes you out of the way to run out the door first to see the turkeys.

Peace on earth dooods. Happy happy.

Oh, Alex and I are pooling our golden nuggets to get Oom a present this year....here's a picture...what do you think?

We're pretty sure he will fit on the balcony. And he eats grass right? So we don't need the stupid cat eating machine anymore or the stinky fuel stuff that goes in it? I wonder if he'll poop in a box?

Anyway, hug a cat, or a dog, or if you are short on furry friends, hug a human today. Wish them a happy season, indeed, a happy life. And remember, don't club somebody in the head with your paw for no reason.

Your friend in holiday fur,

Diesel T Hecat

Happy Cat-Solstice

Mrrrr Friends,

If you have been reading this blog faithfully since I started it, you know that Cat-Solstice is a celebration of the longest nighttime of the year. A day of celebration and mischief for cats worldwide. (For those of you, ahemrr, catching up, check out the label cloud below.)

Join in the celebration...hug a cat. Just make sure he doesn't have fleas. I don't have fleas...you can come hug me. Just call ahead to avoid the lines.

To celebrate this awesome night, I am posting this lovely happy holidays video in honor of the wild wolfies. They love cat solstice too. Don't hug a wolfie, not a good idea. But you can love a wolfie by helping to understand, protect, and speak up for them for the amazing critters they are.

(Turn on your volume.)

Occupy TKT - Thanksgiving!

Mrrrr Friends,

From Occupy the Kitchen Table headquarters, we wish you a food, friends, and fun-filled Thanksgiving!

First Snow!!!

Mrrrr Friends,

Yes, we are still occupying the kitchen table, sometimes in shifts. Nevertheless, I had to go celebrate the first snow of the season!

It was coming down so hard that it was darkish out there, so the photographer (who you might remember is quite, um, unfocused when outside with the cat) sometimes had the flashy thingy going.

Here's me heading out:

I have to get up on Oom's shoulder sometimes to get the lay of the land:

We went out to the brook to see the snow hats on my boulders:

By that time I had to hop up on my bench cause, frankly, my feet were a little cold...even a purebred Wisconsin Snowcat has to acclimate.

Our house is nice and warm so I can head right in and warm my toes after playing a bit with Oom and making sure she gets some exercise.

And tomorrow is Turkey Day! What a great way to start a long weekend of play!

OCCUPY The Kitchen Table: the feline microphone

We are the 99%. 

The situation: we are being rationed stinky goodness.

What we need: beef pate!  99% of cats don't get stinky goodness on demand.

When do we want it? We want it already.


Editor's Note: The humans and the cats in this household (a) are in the 99%, and (b) do support the Occupy movement. It's not really about the stinky goodness (canned food for you neophyte cat blog followers). Diesel just couldn't help himself from leveraging his own personal sense of injustice for the greater feline good.

Apple Tree and Me

Mrrrr Friends,

If you are like me, you appreciate the four seasons of the human year. Autumn is my favorite in many ways...because of the crunchy leaves for chasing and the crisp air that is so invigorating for a furry guy like me.

I took advantage of this very crisp day - we had a frost last night - to go out and check on my pal the apple tree.

You can see her here barely, Oom just wrapped her trunk cause it has a scar from being hit by a boulder. She's about 18 human feet tall I think and has two little trees attached to her roots but growing independent-like (the two scrawny trunks to the left). She used to live down along the brook close to here:

See all those pebbly rocks? My brook used to flow right there and she was right on the old bank. (All the grasses are still flattened from the big water. If I had been in this spot during the flood, I'd have been 2 feet underwater and moving fast downstream.)

That cranky old Irene broad brought the big rain, and the brook turned into a raging river. It took the apple tree away early in the day, and we thought we'd lost her beautiful spring flowers and fun to chase little red apples forever. But Oom found her downstream the day after. She was laying down with one long root still clinging to the bank with her branches hanging on to the two little trees.

Oom was pretty stressed out and sad that day, and she got the crazy notion they should try to save her. So with Boo they pulled her out of the brook, gently wrapped her roots, hauled her up to a new, safe spot, dug a huge hole and covered up all her roots real careful like.

We think that if she makes it, so will our town. Upper Jay, Keene, Ausable Forks and lots of nice people with there roots deep in these places got hammered just like my apple tree pal. I hope they are all okay. If you want to help them you can go here. Tell them Diesel sent you.

Autumn

Mrrrr Friends,

Autumn is here. I love autumn.

Crunchy leaves:

Fresh wood piles:

Clearing runways for tree-scaling:

Fewer bugs down by my brook:

And, pumpkin pie:

And in just a month or two...snow, glorious snow!

Mothballs

Mrrrr Friends,

Mothballs stink and you should keep them away from critters....especially moths.

But I feel like I've been in them since August.

I was having my mid-life crisis, and there was the whole ordeal with the deer fly. I felt like my life was spinning out of control...the only constants were Oom and Boo's love, Alex's stripeyness, and my kibble consumption.

Then there was the big bad water on 28 August. That was just awful for lots of critters and folks. Ava the cat is missing still, the pony got washed away, and I just can't imagine how many other good critters got the tough end. But there was the barn cat in Keene that hung on for dear life, my pal Black is okay in the hardware, and Mike the Cow and his pals are okay too. The water was super high and fast and ate up some people houses and my other neighbor people's barn. Now, some of the people seem mad at the river. Puts it all in perspective for a furry guy.

And then last week, I got this nice letter:

Diesel,


I was a former Wisconsinite who moved to Oklahoma City in 2009. My family grew back in 2004 when we adopted Oy from Sauk County Humane Society, which is how I happened upon your blog. My family grew yet again in 2006 when yet another kitty joined our pack, this one hailing from Westby and going by the moniker Mog.


I had my old PC buried in storage until tonight and going through my old bookmarks, I realized I had forgotten to check your blog as diligently as I had. It was a pleasure to get caught up.


In honor of a belated Diesel Day, I must say that shelter animals are of the most in need of a home and it is up to all animal lovers to spread the word of how in need these animals are.


In honor of you and animals everywhere, happy belated Diesel Day and many, many more :)


C.J., Oy and Mog


That was nice. Thanks Oy, thanks Mog...extra big love for C.J. from me.

And my brook is still fine...swollen from a few days of rain and they kind of messed it up down where it meets the beleaguered river, but up here...there is hope.

Stay out of the mothballs...there's too much to do.

Cats & Birds

Mrrrrr Friends,

I'm talking orange birds. To wit:

Oom was away all last week, plus the two weekends, to hang with Ant Marge and then do stupid work stuff (which she says was fun). Besides paling around with serious, tough birds like the cool rough-legged hawk dude, on her special glove here, she went and got enamored of these two orange birdies you see above.

Tango and Mango.

I kid you not.

They are Sun Conures, and from what I can glean, they got a rough break. Their person, who they loved big, had to surrender them to Ant Marge - who is the champion big raptor bird rehabilitator of the world - but she also looks out for little guys like this. Frankly, I think they should have grown up in the jungles of Brazil where they belong, but that didn't happen for these two beauties, and they want a person and a home.

There's talk, I hear my people talking. It is hard to tell if they are serious. But I'm just noting for the record: I'm not too sure I can maintain my calm exterior around this much orange and yellow.

We used to have a couple little blue birds...they didn't much like us cats though. I stared at them a lot, but didn't really want to nibble on them. For me, chipmunks are critters of interest, birds, not so much.

I'm worried though that Alex will think they are popsicles...  And it is an interesting question: if you lick them, will your tongue get orangey yellow?

I have a feeling Mango and Tango have an opinion about this. I wonder if I'll get to ask them in person?

Dear Fly

Mrrrrr Friends,

I do not consider myself to be a faint-hearted man-cat. I do not shrink from intruder cats, or wild animals - fishers, foxes, hawks, snakes - ambling through my territory. I am also not a foolish cat, chasing animals bigger than me who have every right to do their thing, or wandering out beyond my  limitations....okay, there is the sometimes too daring tree-scaling. We'll call that the exception that proves the rule.

I am an endearingly cute, but basically sober and solid (of mind and body) guy.

It is because of this though, that the whole deer fly incident continues to weigh heavily on my psyche. Karma seems to have shifted about and is constantly pitting me against the deer fly population. Yesterday, Oom let me go out the front door...fewer bugs there as it is farther from the brook and wetlands. No sooner did I descend from the porch but was met by a deer fly who landed on my butt...I swiveled and shook him, ran a few yards, he followed, and dove into my fur. Rude if you ask me. I frisked him off with my paw and ran for the back door meowling for Oom to move quick and open it. I dived in.

It wasn't pretty. One might suggest it wasn't manly. But I ask you, would you stand and let a deer fly bite you?

It is hard to go outside, but I will persevere. I am a cat with an innate curiosity and my love of the outdoors will always win out.

I must assume this is a phase. The planets will realign, the earth will rotate and the deer flies will die in the not too distant frost of winter...if I don't get them first.

The Cat and Existential Crisis

Mrrrrr Friends,

I woke up from a restful sleep, deep in the middle of the afternoon. My heart was pounding, paws sweating, head reeling, tail akimbo...thinking..."that cat? Have I become that cat?" An...I can't really even say it...an  indoor cat?

Now I know you are thinking, "Diesel, dude, you are an indoor cat." But I say no...I have my freedom. Oom is always there, faithfully ready to go out in all weather to hang and explore with me, follow my antics, watch me climb trees. I was an indoor/outdoor, kinda drip-dry cat.

Now, I stick my head out and there are bugs, and I have to muster my courage. I didn't blog about it...it was so traumatic. A month ago, I got bit by a deer fly...or maybe it was a cat fly. It hurt! It bit me in the butt and my leg got all puffy. Man, for days I was thinking I would never go out again. Okay for weeks...

I did, however,  go see Ant Becky's orangey spotty fish yesterday, and roll around on the bricks. Oh, and Sunday I went down to the brook with Boo and went out to my rock.

Maybe it was just a post-fly/mid-life crisis? Maybe it was all a bad dream?

Mrrrrr. I think I'll go sleep on some Kierkegaard.

Celebrate Diesel Day!

Mrrrr Friends,

Thursday 26 May is Diesel Day!

Diesel Day commemorates my adoption from the Sauk County Humane Society in Baraboo, Wisconsin. It is a nation-wide celebration for loving, giving to, and caring for cats, other furry , feathered, and scaly companions, and the people who go to the mat for them.

Every year, according to the Humane Society of the United States, 6 to 8 million cats and dogs enter animal shelters. In bad economic times, the number of animals surrendered to shelters, or simply turned out of their homes, increases dramatically. The burden on the 4000 to 5000 shelters in the US is prodigious.

So Diesel Day is an opportunity for you to help out. Call your local shelter and see if they need some of your volunteer time, a few boxes of Yeowww! Stinkies, bags and bags and bags of kibble, or just some of the fluttery, green money stuff.

Maybe you've been thinking of adopting that special furry or feathered someone? Or perhaps you have just the right number furry friends living with and taking care of you, but you can encourage your local kibble store to make a donation, or check with your vet and ask if they donate time or supplies to their local shelter or offer discounts to newly adopted critters. Diesel Day is the perfect day to act on your good intentions!

If you are too lazy to do that, or if you just want to score points with the Big D, support my two favorite shelters: the Sauk County (WI) Humane Society or North Country (NY) SPCA. These are both fine facilities with hard-working, caring people and would deeply appreciate your recognition of their efforts on Diesel Day! Tell them I sent you.

Me? Besides hitting you up, wIth the help of my people and my human Granma, I mailed off a package to my local shelter with green stuff and a fine Yeowww! toy for my cat pals waiting for adoption.

Giving away without regret is one of the most important things a being can do. You’ll be amazed at what comes back to you. I still have extended family in Wisconsin and, you never know, you may be directly aiding a furry cousin of mine…another future feline blogger.

Make sure you tell them Diesel sent you. If they look at you funny, send them here.

50

Mrrrr Friends,

Humans like to count. I do not know why. It probably has something to do with your whole linear mindset.

For the most part, we go along with you...it seems to be the best route to reliable kibble presentation...it also seems to make you less grumpy.

We do think you get stuck in a rut though...that's why we scamper about, wreck havoc and generally reorder your life for you as much as possible.

We are good for you.

Anyway. Oom counted to 50 the other day so she had a party. The whole day was kind of a party really...people were giving her stuff, so Alex and I got in the spirit.

Alex gave Oom some flowers.

I took her outside and played with her.

And I found her this trout in the rushing water of our brook...can you see it?

Boo gave Oom roses...that kind of made her all emotional which is cool cause she hugged me.

Other folks sent Oom cards and posted on her Facebook page. A  Joyful friend of ours from Sag Harbor sent a big chunk of good cheese, and Granma sent a vacation. I don't know how she got it in the envelope.

Boo then went overboard and had a bunch of people come over and they all made Oom happy. They brought some swell kibble and Ant Becky brought green silly juice (I stuck to red wine). The trout on that plate from Ant Martha was not the trout above in the picture...those are my trout.

Some of my favorite women folk came over to say hi to Oom and pet me. Uncle Chris came too.

It was a fine day.

But it pooped me out. I hope she doesn't count to 50 again too soon.

Happy Mom Day

Mrrrr Granma, Ants, and mom people,

Happy your day.

I grew you some flowers.

Hug a cat today. It will make you warm and fuzzy....literally. (Don't hug a cat if you are allergic, but admire one instead.)

Furry wet nose kisses,

Diesel

Diesel River?!

Mrrrr Friends,

You remember my nice little brook?

What a difference some melting snow and thunder rain can make!

Somewhere under all that water is my rock. I'm sitting on it here in the middle of the brook in this file photo. Right now, it is a big wave. I wonder if this is how brook boulders have fun?

Pony Up!

Mrrrr Friends,

What do ponies, or horses, have to do with donating money or paying up? I gotta admit, I am confused. Is there some tie to the old human practice of horse-trading? Who knows. I like ponies (Alex wants a pony) so I kinda like the phrase pony up.

I hope no ponies are offended.

My point is: it is spring and that's a time when it is important to consider a donation to two of my local favorite places: North Country Public Radio and the North Country SPCA.

You probably noticed it is NPR pledge drive season. Well, as usual, I sent in my small contribution - okay, yes, I stole Oom's plastic thingy with the magic numbers on it. I increased my give a little this year since The Man has pulled support from our nations's public radio.

As the first feline member of NCPR, I am pleased to see an increase in the number of cats who prod their humans to make a donation. I wish I could use a phone and mrrow my thanks. But every year I write my NCPR email buddy June a little note of appreciation for all my pals there at the station.

Now, spring is also a time when wanderer cats and other outdoor-prone felines get spring fever and well, ahem. Little kittens are the product. Little kittens who, in some cases, will be born outside or who, in an act of human irresponsibility, will be abandoned. The generous folks at North Country SPCA provide a way-station.

I'm asking you to consider a small donation to the good folks at my local shelter so they can be prepared for the onslaught of sweet, cuddly kittens that will arrive at their door. These little fur balls are future companions, entertainers, best friends, pillows of love, pocket rockets and, in one or two cases, bloggers. Give them and the people who help them find their homes a hand please.

Tell the nice folks at both places that Diesel sent you!

Now I gotta go mark some trees and bushes up for the April snow headed our way. One more chance to play in the fluffy stuff!

Happy Spring!

Mrrrrr Friends,

It's official, spring is on. We got the longer days, warmer temps (for the most part), and the snow is receding.

But there's still a lot of it near my brook. Are the trout happy not to be covered in snow? Or do they miss the pretty ice crystals?

There's enough thaw to have a sip of snow melt in our ephemeral stream.

And a guy can stretch and frolic.

But they're predicting a full cat of snow (8" or so) later today! Will the cat be surrounded by snow yet again?

Spring?

Mrrrrr Friends,

I dreamt last night of lush green grass and sprouting catnip.

Okay, of me laying in plush green grass and sprouting catnip.

The American robins are back.

But...

we're not at the end of winter yet!

myPad 2

Mrrrr Friends,

I know that, with the announcement of a new iPad, you immediately thought of me. As I've blogged here before, there is little doubt that Apple was inspired by cats when they named this thing: it's svelte, black (now it is white too, so my pal Snowball is pretty excited), and easy to use with pawpads and when lacking opposable thumbs. It's almost like copyright infringement (but, legally, it is not...).

I'm honored to be one of the blogging cats that led to this great leap forward.

Nevertheless, I ask you: where is the love? Why hasn't Steve Jobs sent me an iPad? Indeed, I'm seeing myself now highlighted against a brand new white iPad 2 - blogging and FBing into the night.

It's a missed opportunity really. I'd happily endorse the iPad 2 for cats and humans. Or, I will give them kibble....I have offered. I don't know why they don't respond.

Just think how much easier it would be for the cat to play Angry Birds at night! (Thanks Ant Laura!)

I love Mac...he will always be my aluminum cat pal, but Steve, Apple people, it's time to give back.

Fur Will Fly (in celebration of The Pack)

Mrrrrr Friends,

I was born in Wisconsin. I love a good snow pack, rutabaga rolling, and The Pack - that's the Green Bay Packers to you.  That shouldn't be a surprise.

It's true, generally I eschew violence, even in sport, but the finesse, strategy and teamwork of human football is intriguing for a cat, to say the least.

I tried out for the team once. I wanted to be the Center. You know, handing the ball off to Brett Favre and then confounding the defensive line with my furry presence: climbing up their legs, swatting at their helmets, clinging to their jerseys, all in defense of my QB.

I strolled onto Nitschke Field for practice one day in 2005 to try out. There was quite a debate about my presence. They were worried I would not be able to get the pigskin between my hind legs. I had an alternative worked out, though, and so we gave it a try.

It was a short-lived moment - but exhilarating. And, in hindsight, I should of seen the possibility.

I went to snap the ball to Brett. I felt myself being sucked backward into a vacuum and leaned into the warm human hands behind me that would take the ball. I coiled myself tightly ready to spring forward to tackle the oncoming defenders.

Suddenly, it happened...I found myself spinning gently, headfirst through the air. In retrospect, Favre noted that the "ball" felt oddly furry and warm that day. He didn't think anything of it during the play, after noting that his feline center might need to groom more.

It was a 40-yard pass. Long enough for a young man cat to really gain a new pawspective on his life and goals. The spinning stopped after a while, thankfully, and I found myself gaining ground on the  number 80. I would be in good hands...

There was a moment of sheer terror in Donald Driver's eyes as he realized a large black Wisconsin Snowcat was hurtling toward him. Our eyes connected and he saw my need.

I just want to say, Driver has awesome hands. Thank goodness. He caught me, tucked me into the crook of his left arm and ran like the wind. It was just practice, but it was a touchdown play.

I thought my tryout was an amazing success. But there was a man dressed like a black and white stripy cat who noted that the pigskin was still on the scrimmage line. In all the excitement, no one had noticed except this unimaginative guy.

Brett told me afterwards, that he thought it was a touchdown. That was right after he told me I wasn't really NFL material.

But I'm still a Packers fan.

Go Pack.

-24? How low can it go?

Mrbrrrr Friends,

Did you hear my name this morning on NCPR? Todd Moe was asking us locals to email him our backyard temperatures. I did that, and also wrote him to remind his human listeners to keep their companion critters' paws in mind and only let them outside if absolutely necessary. Todd was game...he wasn't daunted my feline-ness. He read my email out loud to everybody.

It was -32 in the wee hours before Boo got up. But by noon it was a balmy 0 again.

Alex and I made a bid to go out on the porch to sunbathe, but Oom and Boo say the porch birds don't need to see any cats. The suet set (blue jays mostly) are doing pretty good with their home-made suet. Oom got the rest a supermix with lots hulled seed, nuts, vitamins and stuff just for this arctic weather, in addition to all the black oil sunflower seeds and the gelatin blocks of nuts, seeds and corn. Alex says there are goldfinches, one redpoll, chickadees (Boreal and regular), cardinals (they are very red), titmice, nuthatches (both kinds), and juncos. No woodpeckers yet...

I don't think I'm going out on the snowpack today. Human people, keep your critters indoors! I know dogs need to go out to pee, but don't let them dawdle...

Best inside, on a lap or, if need be, by the radiator or wood stove. Human people, think about putting a little flax oil in your feline friend's food. That will help with itchy, dry skin.

0

Mbrrrrrr friends,

It's chilly out there.

According to Oom, I have an alter ego named Cranky Cat. He's a mean dude who growls, swats, and gets grumpy when he has to come inside on a nice day whether it is snowy, rainy, or sunny and green.

She tries to keep him locked outside.**

I don't know what she is talking about.

Anyway, if he's locked outside, he's like frozen stiff or really, really cranky now, because it went down to like -20 last night and this morning it was 0. It's supposed to get even colder today, but the sun's out.

I had to go outside.

Do you see that look on my face? Cold paws. Really cold paws.

Omm said she  saw cranky cat this morning.

I don't know what she is talking about.

Inside, blogging, is better.

**Dudes, don't worry...Cranky Cat is fictitious...Oom would never, ever lock a cat outside. Except Bob the Cat but he is, you know, big and wild and made to live outside.

A Cat Named Mike the Cow

Mrrrrr Friends,

In the way that cats first meet - by smell - I met a cat guy named Mike the Cow.

Oom came home from the torture place where they stretch her out and make her lift heavy things in endless repetition. But she had made a stop on the way. I know this because I regularly meet her at the door and give her a good work over...it's how I keep up on local trends and news.

Mike had left an articulate trail of fur and smell declaring his appreciation of Oom's catscritching techniques, but also introducing himself respectfully and appropriately to me. I keep Oom pretty well marked so that all cats, most dogs, and some horses know immediately they are dealing with Diesel T Hecat.

He must be quite a guy because he was all over her, sitting on her lap and even pad-padding. I don't know how he got that distinctive human name - though he says it suits him. I know that feeling.

Anyway, Mike and I have pretty different backgrounds and, likely, we have different ways of thinking. He is a stripey cat.  But cats are cool with difference, philosophical and physical. Throw in territorial issues, and things can get sticky, but 99.9% of the time, after a little butt sniffing, we can work it out. You humans might want to try butt-sniffing...or, at least, frank, honest, and respectful marking/messaging.