Happy New Year

Princess, Rose, and Kleopatra
o Princess, Rose, and Kleopatra

That’s what things looked like, in the run up to Christmas at our place. Princess got to avoid wearing a costume. She revolted after we made her wear a Santa hat five or six years ago, and told us never again.

As to Rose and Kleopatra, well, they are bribable. The two of them will do just about anything for peanut butter doggie training treats!

A Happy New Year to everyone. Let’s hope that 2014 will be wonderful.

Oh, and starting tomorrow, I’m going to be writing a series of articles on Global Warming. They won’t be the typical article you read though. I think different.


Wayne Borean

December 31, 2013



Merry Christmas to All!

I’ve been somewhat distracted over the last few months, between one thing and another, my apologies for not being around. In the mean time I’d like to wish everyone a Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah, and Happy New Year.

Oh, and here’s a picture of Mark playing Santa for Sam and the Kittens.

The Lovers

At least when they aren’t trying to kill each other.

Yes, Princess appears to be preggers. Considering how good looking mommy and daddy are, I suspect the kittens will be adorable.

Feeding the beasts

There’s times that you read something that is so obvious, well, lets just say I’m in shock.

A bit of background. We have 7 cats, and a dog. They all get along fairly well. You get the usual dominance things, which can be amusing, but overall the house is not a war zone, and the five of us love our furry four footed friends.

Today Heather was reading an article posted at Stuff on My Cat titled Why Is Your Cat Fat? Or, Your Cat Is A Carnivore. She told me about it, I read it, and I started thinking.

Soot is fat. An 18 month old cat shouldn’t be fat. Nor should he be hanging around the sink, trying to drink from the tap all the time.

Princess is still recovering from having kittens. We’ve tried to make sure she had extra food, but it didn’t seem to make any difference.

Several of the others have issues. Weight for instance. We have several fat cats. The only one who looks really healthy is Lucky, who is also the only one who gets outside at all.

All of them eat dry food. Standard stuff from the local supermarket. After reading that article, I think we’ve been inadvertently poisoning the poor things by feeding them supermarket pet food. If you have cats, I’d suggest that you read that article. It’s kind of scary. We’re going to change our little friends diet over the next couple of weeks, and see if they look healthier.

Dessert Island log, day 83


This is rather what things are like at home right now. Heather and Vicky have gone to FilKONtario. Mark (the dog) and I have been sitting on the couch most of the evening, watching the cats do strange things. Mark is puzzled, but that’s nothing unusual.

Part of the problem is Shiloh. Shiloh is the biggest chicken I have ever seen. He’s an uncut male, a Siamese/Burmese mix, so you think he’d have some guts. Guess again. Princess, the half Siamese female has him scared witless. She has him so scared he’d rather sit on the couch beside me (and he’s scared of me) and Mark (who he’s really scared of) because he’s terrified of her. Heck, he’s terrified of the kittens!

It would probably be worse if Princess could count. Ruby, who’s little girl is cat crazy came by to pick up the kitten we’d promised her, and I don’t think Princess has figured out that one is missing yet. Considering the noises I’m hearing from by the front window (which have to be Bandit and Princess, because I can see everyone else) she is going to be a nightmare all weekend. The kittens just sit there and look puzzled when their mommy throws a fit. Which really would be quite funny, if poor Shiloh wasn’t catching most of the fury. He’s a really nice cat, when he isn’t terrified.

Cats are stupid

Let’s take the old one. She comes to the door to see me when I come home, and then stands there so I can’t get up the stairs. When she finally figures out that I want up the stairs she does her best to walk in front of me. Now I out weight her by 250 pounds, and really don’t want to step on her, but it gets really difficult some times.

Let’s take the middle one. He was in a car accident – the car won. When we got him he was still recovering. Now he really likes going outside. It’s 10 below zero, and he wants to go outside, and nearly every bone in his body was broken when he was hit by the car. But still he wants outside. Where he will stay for 5 minutes or less, and then when he gets back in he collapses for a couple of hours.

Then there’s the young one. He thinks he’s a dog. He follows me all over the house. He sits in my chair. He also follow the middle one, which gets him really upset, and since the middle one is nearly twice his size could be evidence of a deep seated death wish.