Category Archives: Catblogging

Friday Catblogging: In The Bag

Paul Drake’s love of boxes is well-known. He also likes bags.

Friday Catblogging: Too Cool For School

Dr. A bought a large cloth tiger head. I had hoped that it would be of interest to Paul Drake. He wasn’t having it. PD was all like: “I refuse to co-operate with your pitiful scheme, human.”

This is the first in a series. When it comes to messing with my cats, I’m persistent.

Sunday Catblogging: Lick Lick Lick Edition

Slade HATES being brushed. Just hates it. He tries to bite the brush, runs away, yowls as if being tortured, whereas Ada will come running if I wave the Furminator and say “brushy brushy!” The result of which is that she has absolutely no hairballs and a lovely plushy coat and he sits in the corner angrily licking himself and making hork motions.

Dumbass. I love him so much.

A.

Friday Catblogging: Vintage Della Street

Dr. A discovered a lost picture of the late, great Della Street  on her iPad. This is so Della:

Tuesday Catblogging

Look at this idiot and his floofy tail and his fat little feets.

A.

Sunday Catblogging: Courting Ada Edition

Ada had a visitor yesterday:

This orange fellow is Remy. He lives next door to us and prowls the neighborhood during the day, then in the evening reappears to yowl incredibly loudly until his people let him in to eat.

Because we live in Mayberry, well-meaning neighbors often post pictures of him on Facebook and declare that he is lost and they’ve taken him in to feed him, and then when somebody says he’s an outdoor cat, it’s 567 posts about how terrible it is for cats to be outside. If the half a bird I saw him dragging into the yard the other day is any indication of his skills, Remy can more than hold his own with what passes for wildlife around here.

He’s friendly as hell. He follows Kick around begging for pets whenever she’s outside, and Ada desperately wants to go on outdoor adventures with him and thinks it is the height of injustice that she isn’t allowed. Remy is street-smart and Ada could lose a battle of wits with a dust bunny so for now they are star-crossed lovers Romeo-and-Julietting through the back door.

A.

Friday Catblogging: The Carpet Crawler

It’s not really carpet, it’s a rug. It’s Paul Drake current favorite spot. You’ll see why I call it a carpet after the picture.

A double-barreled last word goes to Genesis:

 

Not Everything Sucks: HORF

Go read this wholesome dumb animal thread.

I live for wholesome dumb animals because two of them live with me and they’re so stupid, look at this idiot:

I’d die for her without a second thought and if she wasn’t cute somebody would have turned her into mittens years ago.

A.

Friday Catblogging: Feline Fundraising Edition

I originally called this post Feline Tin Cup Rattling but begging was not the late, great Della Street’s style. She never begged when she could demand.

I’m more polite than my much missed mouthy tuxedo cat. Please donate to our annual fundraiser. Click here for details on how to do it from our publisher.

Saturday Odds & Sods: Dark Star

Flying Eyeball by Rick Griffin.

Dr. A and I went to the batshit crazy Saints season opener against the Houston Texans. The game had everything: bad calls, great plays, and a crazy ending. Most importantly, the Saints won with a 58 yard field goal by Will Lutz. It was his career long. The crowd was stunned in a good way. My personal streak of the Saints always winning when I sit in our friend Fred’s end zone seats was imperiled but it’s intact. Stay tuned.

This week’s theme song was written by Jerry Garcia and Robert Hunter in 1968. The music of Dark Star is often credited to the entire band, which seems only fair as it’s the ultimate jam band song.

We have two versions of the Dead’s Dark Star for your listening pleasure. First, the single version, which clocks in at a modest 2:44. It’s followed by a more typical second set medley that commences with Dark Star. It comes from the 12/31/78 closing of Winterland show that my younger self attended.

It’s time for a visit to Dismbiguation City with a swell song written by Stephen Stills and recorded by Crosby, Stills & Nash in 1977.

Now that we’ve bathed in the glow of the Dark Star, let’s jump to the break before the Dead go into The Other One. “Coming, coming, coming around.”

Continue reading

Friday Catblogging: What Do They Have In Common?

Paul Drake and Omar Little both like Honey Nut Cheerios.

Here’s a clip from The Wire:

Friday Catblogging: Still Missing Della

I’ve mourned all of my cats but this has been the worst. Here’s one of my favorite pictures of the sassy Miss Street.

Friday Catblogging: The Bow Tie Is Back

Paul Drake’s old bow tie/bell collar vanished a while back so he’s been naked. We’ve finally remedied that because he’s once again interested in bolting out the front door. The bell is an early warning system, the bow tie is purely decorative.

The last word goes to the Mothers Of Invention:

 

Friday Catblogging: On The Job

Private eye Paul Drake turns psychic investigator. Not really: the specter you see is Dr. A taking this picture.

Friday Throwback Catblogging: Cat Hat

Let’s set the dial on the Wayback Machine to 1999. Here’s a picture of your humble blogger with our 6-pound torti, Window, on my head.  It beats the hell outta being an Insult Comedian with a dead nutria pelt atop one’s head.

Holy stupid human trick, Batman.

Don’t try this at home. It’s not for amateurs.

The last word goes to Lyle Lovett:

Friday Catblogging: Hoser

We borrowed a wet-vac from a friend. Paul Drake has gotten attached to it.

Friday Catblogging: The Two Paul Drakes

First came The Two Mrs. Carrolls. Then, The Two Jakes. Now it’s time for The Two Paul Drakes:

Friday Catblogging: Well Groomed

Dr. A and I are still blue after losing Della Street. She recently texted me some pictures of the krewe of cats named for Perry Mason characters that I had not seen. This snapshot was taken last January:

Tuesday Catblogging

Slade is such a ham (figuratively, as well as in actual proportion) that sometimes I forget to take pictures of Ada, who sleeps in this kind of mollusk position, feet daintily pointed and back perfectly curled:

[photo: Calico cat curled up asleep on a blue couch]

Friday Catblogging: Missing Miss Street

It’s been a month since we lost Della Street. I miss her dirty looks and imperious bearing. The look on her face in this box picture says it all: