11. [ Lasers + Leo = OCD fit. ]

Before I tell you about Leo and the laser pointer.....I've discovered something on the interwebs that both disturbs and amuses me. Leo is a Squishable. I love Squishables. I own three, presently - the sheep, the leopard, and the hedgehog. Now, I was waiting until June for the return of the raccoon to complete my collection (I intend to use them as sofa throw pillows), but they've made a Squishable version of my cat.......it's his size for goodness sake! Zed said we'll discuss the purchase of said Leo Squishable tonight. Cross your fingers.

Now, onto my OCD cat....

Leo, as you know by now, is a big boy. I was browsing through Target, looking at the kitty stuff, when I found the kitty laser pointer, guaranteed to help your cat exercise! Well, it was a bit pricey there, so I found a little laser pointer elsewhere. The other two felines are happily amused by it - Callista, in fact, will chase it all around the house if I let her. But Leo won't even follow it with his eyes. If a cat could shrug, then I'm fairly certain he would've shrugged at this attempt of mine. Well, I pointed it onto his fur, and suddenly the shrugging, bored feline started licking the spot obsessively! I moved it to another spot of white fur, and again, he attacked it with a strange burst of frantic energy. I put the laser away, and he cleaned his fur for an hour. Naturally, I did it again once he was done, and he absolutely had a fit over the laser being on his fur. I would move it to the wall or the curtains, and he still wouldn't budge.....however, once it returned to his fur, he completely flipped out.

My cat is a personal hygiene freak, apparently. The moral of the story: Do not point the laser on Leo's fur.....unless you're prepared for his OCD antics.

Love & Catnip,
Nicolette

10. [ Work? Something like it. ]

Well, I've finally started working from home. So far, so good. I'm off today though since I had my infusion. I'm kind of bored at this moment. Zed needed some time to just....hang out by himself, Mom is cleaning the house because she's stressed out by my insane grandmother, and the cats are all hiding from that stupid dog. Luckily, the dog goes home tomorrow, Mom goes to my sister's house to take care of a sick nephew, Zed will come visit after work, and I'll have an entire day of peace and quiet to work.

Well, sort of on the peace and quiet front. Leo is rather fond of my desk in the study. He wants to be on it, especially while I'm typing. On the desk in my room, he can't do that, because it literally isn't big enough for him to fit on. But the other desk is big, and there's so much to play with.....he can't help himself! It took me all week for him to finally accept that his place in my workspace was in his bed. Now, the bed is right beside me at the desk and right by the window with the curtains pulled back for him. He's even got catnip in there. But, oh, I had to bribe him all week with plastic bags and catnip toys and repeatedly tossing him onto the floor from the desk.

But, he seems to have accepted this new phase. Granted, it'll be better once the dog goes home and I feel better - the Remicade makes me feel kind of rough for a couple of days. So, for now, I'm off to play the DS, perhaps read a little. It's not too eventful in our world tonight.

09. [ We don't do dogs. ]

On a normal day, not much phases Leo. He's a big boy - sure, he cries for attention, and he's not fond of Callista biting him....but the most part, he doesn't get spooked like most felines. The doorbell doesn't bother him, in fact he usually hops through the kitty-door to the porch to see who made the noise. The vaccum he finds more annoying than anything else, but he won't move from whatever napping spot he's found. However, we've discovered ten pounds of evil that scare the living hell out of my beloved Leo.

Happy Gilmore. No, not the Adam Sandler movie, but the evil one was named after it. Happy is my brother's chihuahua. He's larger than your average rat-dog as my brother feeds him from the grill - this silly dog eats better than I do! He's used to a diet of steak, bratwurst, ribs, whatever my brother cooks. My sister-in-law gets up and cooks Happy breakfast - bacon and eggs, for a dog. Well, they are visiting my other brother for a week, and for some reason, Happy has been left in our care. My mother is a strange one and has a bizarre affection for chihuahuas. The dog doesn't like me or my cat.

I've never seen Leo scared. However, when he and Happy got nose-to-nose, my short-haired tabby cat puffed up like a Persian and started shaking. Of course I scooped him up to safety until my mother escorted Happy elsewhere. Leo is staying in my room, not because of me specifically, but because I have a bamboo-beaded curtain in my doorway that frightens Happy. My room has become a safehouse for me and three cats. It's going to be a long week.

Love & Catnip,
Nicolette

08. [ Exhausted. ]

Even Leo gets exhausted. We - the human companions, counterparts, Mommy - assume that surely a cat cannot become exhausted, especially an indoor variety. Leo has the luxury of lounging about the house, napping whenever and wherever he sees fit. No, he could never know the pain that comes with exhaustion - the aching bones, the irritable demeanor, that unquenchable thirst for rest that simply hasn't been had.

Wrong. Leo knows exhaustion. On the evening on February 15, I became incredibly sick, which caused Leo to panic. Everytime I threw up, Leo would look up at me and cry that innocent mew of Mommy, what's wrong, how can I make it better? Bless his heart. He stayed with me for all 30 trips to the bathroom/trashcan/sick - whatever was in closest proximity. He never wavered, not for a minute. You see, I firmly believe that animals understand when their humans are sick, especially if they have a chronic condition - they know when something isn't right. I have an autoimmune disease. Leo and his sister, Callista, have been there through every treatment, every bad day that leaves me trapped in the bed; they know what's normal and what isn't. Leo knew something was wrong. Oh, he cried and cried, as if he was begging my mother to help him fix me.

The doctor had me admitted to the hospital. I had to stay cooped up in painful confinement for four days. Mom and Zed came to visit. My boss and former boss stopped by. But, despite my earnest requests, the hospital wouldn't allow a cat to visit. I assured them he was a handsome boy with impeccable manners, but still, they denied my request. They weren't really on top of things - we told them several times that I don't do dairy, and yet, every time dietary knocked on my door, my tray contained both milk and ice cream. I think we could've gotten by with sneaking Leo in for a quick visit, but I digress.

Mom said that Leo didn't appear to be getting any rest. She said that every evening when she went home to shower and rest a bit, Leo would pace and cry - he would apparently stand in the doorway to our room and cry. When I was finally allowed to go home Thursday night, my beloved furry toddler was hoarse and could hardly hold his green eyes open. I tossed one of my blankets onto the bed, and he proceeded to cuddle up, positively exhausted. I tucked him in, and my poor baby didn't budge until breakfast.

Lucky - for me, and for Leo - I'll be starting telework in two weeks. The doctor feels it's in my best interests if I can work in a controlled environment to keep my weak immune system safe. I've already bought Leo a new cat bed and seated it beside my "work" desk. It will be easier to update the blog then, I think. I'll be home with my furry child, and I can post his darling antics as they happen rather than in retrospect. For now, updates are still a bit erratic. Once the doctors make up their minds as to what's wrong and what will make me better, I should have enough energy leftover after my work day to do something other than channel surf with heavy-lidded eyes. It's only two short weeks before I can be a stay-at-home-mama-cat for Leo. Oh, he will be absolutely delighted, and perhaps then I'll be able to get his nasty biting habit under control!

Love & Catnip,
Nicolette

07. [ He bites! He bites! ]

Leo is many things; a biter, however, is not one of them. I don't know where he's picked up this sudden habit. Nothing has changed over the past week - nothing new or out of the ordinary. Out of the blue, he started to nip - silly, play biting, nothing more. But then he started to bite a little harder, a little more aggressive. Yesterday, he bit Zed and drew blood! Leo! Drew blood! ....nonsense, right?

I'm not sure what's gotten into my little beast. He's nipped at me, Zed, Mom, my brother, and the other two felines - now, Callista deserves every bite/scratch she receives because she's dealt out many nearly-lethal attacks; I've got some nasty scars courtesy of that calico. Last night, Leo woke me up by biting me - it wasn't hard or terribly painful, but enough that it wasn't a pleasant wake-up situation. He kept chasing my hand back and forth across the bed every time I tossed and turned to avoid his snappish self. I'm not sure which of us gave up first, but when I woke up again, he was nestled beside me sleeping like an angel.

Love & Catnip,
Nicolette

06. [ Good Morning is a contradiction of terms. ]

I apologize for the lack of updates. Sleep is little and precious these days - partly due to the feline to my left.

About two weeks ago, I overslept. This isn't much of a surprise considering we [because Leo feels it necessary to accompany me through the morning routine] rarely get to sleep before 1:00AM or so then have to be up at 6:05AM. Leo was very troubled by this. Apparently, the alarm on my cell phone didn't go off, or it's very possible I sang along then went back to sleep as it played the manah manah song. Regardless, it was 6:30AM when a certain white beast planted all four feet on my chest and proceeded to meow loudly until I woke up. Imagine a cat having a panic attack - not, going-to-the-vet panic, maybe two steps down from that - and that was Leo. Once I was up, he hopped down and stood between the closet curtains and swatted at clothes until I grabbed something suitable to wear to work. He charged in full cat-that-sounds-like-an-elephant-stampede mode to the bathroom and sat on the ledge of the shower, meowing until I turned the water on. He sat inside the shower, still meowing, during the shower process, as if he thought this would speed up the process. After about a minute, he decided to retire to the counter for more effective, dry wailing. He swatted my toothbrush, hairbrush, makeup brushes - not in the appropriate order, because that would have been several shades of fantastic. He charged us into the kitchen and tugged at the bagel bag with his teeth. I managed to get to work on time. Bless that furball.

We now wake up to Rubber Duckie! You're the one! ....it's sort of improved our mornings.

Leo has developed a new, disturbing, mildly disgusting habit that does wake me up. I've asked him nicely to stop. Let me see if I can set this up properly so you can understand the full experience of my bizarre wake-up call. I'm curled up asleep - usually on my side. There's pressure of something climbing onto my hip - he only has back claws, so this typically doesn't hurt, he's just heavy. I'm still basically asleep, just aware that there's a feline. He sits, and I fall back into a more normal sleep mode momentarily. Then, there's this sensation in my ear - it's kind of like a wet piece of sandpaper, and a scratching noise echos down my ear canal. I open my eyes, only to be greeted nose-to-nose by Leo who then promptly goes back and licks the inside of my ear again. If this was, perhaps, the outside of my ear, it would weird but acceptable, but no, his literally licks down into my ear canal. I'm not sure how to make this nonsense stop. I give him a high-pitched whine of Leeeeooooo, stooooop it, but that doesn't have an effect. I certainly can't close the door at bedtime because, well, it's his room too. I'm optimistic it's just a phase - it's just something silly that has struck his furry fancy, and next week he'll go back to humping my leg or something else equally disturbing but less invasive to my ears.

Lately, I've wonder what will happen when I move out from my mother's house. She adamantly refuses to let Leo go with me, though she readily admits that cat is my heart. This is the only time I'm able to honestly say that I love someone more than I love my Leo. That kind of scares me. I hope it doesn't scare Zed - or, break Leo's heart, though I feel quite certain he's happy that I'm happy. If I choose to move out anytime soon, I'm sure Leo won't be a happy camper at that point, but for now, it's nothing more than midnight musings.

Love & Catnip,

Nicolette

05. [ Hey, look! A movie! ]

If this video magically appears, you'll get to see the first recording experience that Leo and I have attempted! I remember my digi-cam has a record feature. Leo was interested at first, then he proceeded to play with stuff (note: see straw)

I have DSL - high-speed and what not, per AT&T/Bellsouth/whatever. This video is 72.12MB - lower than the Blogger limit of 100MB. I started uploading this video at 11:18PM It changed the text from "uploading" to "processing" at around 11:51PM.

It's presently 12:13AM. I'm quite cold, and Leo is nagging me to pet him. We're off to bed. I'll check in the morning to see if it ever made it. Bah.

[Morning] It didn't auto-save again, so I'm not sure what time the video actually finished its very slow processing time. Ah, well, enjoy!