Merry Christmas 2009! What Santa brought me!

Merry Christmas Huskercat Fans!

Hi everybody! It's Christmas and so here is the official Huskercat Christmas Tree. It's pretty snazy and decked out. About half the ornaments are official Husker ornaments (trademarked and everything). There's no snow because I'm in California where it doesn't snow. Christmas trees are for putting presents under.
So enough about trees! Do you want to know what Santa brought me? Feast your eyes on the Snow Princess! (see photo below) Ok, I'm just kidding. Santa didn't bring me Kira the Snow Princess - for starters that would be illegal! Kira visited a couple weeks ago for a couple days but then she disappeared. She's going to come by in a couple of months to see me again, but I am officially declaring her Miss Christmas of the Huskercat Website (2009).

ANNOUCEMENT!!
Kira is Miss Christmas of the Huskercat Website
She's pretty famous as can be seen by her very fancy Christmas dress. She looks so special she could be the Virgin Mary helping baby Jesus celebrate Christmas! For those who aren't as steeped in religious history as I am, Mary was the Mother of Jesus. She is always referred to as the Virgin Mary. Kira looks pure as the driven snow so she's probably a virgin too, but I'm getting off on a tangent as they say and it's not polite to think about these things. And certainly not polite to write about it in a public blog! Ok, ok, I got to focus here. So when one talks about the Virgin Mary - her and sex get kinda brought up anyway since as Jesus' mother she never had sex which is why she's referred to as a Virgin. So, moving on, that's what today is - Christmas - where we celebrate how a virgin gave birth to a baby. This is what I've been told anyway and I heard it on TV this week too (it was on the Discovery channel so I'm sure it's right). The more I think about this, the less it makes sense though. As I understand sex (and let me tell you, I do understand sex. They didn't invent the word caterwauling for nothing!) you can't be a virgin and have a baby. Ok, listen, I keep my blog family friendly so I think I need to stop all this sex talk. It's Jesus' birthday and that's all that counts since we know Christmas is all about getting presents and Jesus wants us to have all we can get! It's true - it's called prosperity religion so don't go and write me nasty letters about it. God wants me to get while the gettin' is good! So that's my Christmas message to my readers...

Go For The Gusto!!

I got things pretty good at this place. I get Grilled Fancy Feast twice a day and they let me go outside when I want. I get catnipped pretty often. I'm an aging cat so it's medical cat nip, of course (all quite legal in California!). So I don't like to complain about stuff, but I don't think Jesus would have approved of my Christmas present being a sock full of malted milk balls! (see forensic photo and some of the malted milk balls in the photo)


What kind of moron would give malted milk balls to a cat! Seriously, has anyone at all ever heard of getting malted milk balls for a cat??? At Christmas, no less!! I'm pretty sure I know who the moron is since my one owner (the pretty one) doesn't like them in the first place. Even Jesus would have thought I got screwed this Christmas! The owners must have sensed something was wrong because they got a bowl of Frisky's (hard food) and set it in front of me for my dining pleasure.


So to be honest, this wasn't that great of a Christmas for me. I didn't get enough presents like I deserved and I hope that other cats don't have to endure these kinds of hardships.

It's still a day of celebration though and we shouldn't forget that. It's a special day with my appointment of the new Miss Christmas of the Huskercat Website (2009)!

Tarra - one of my all time favorite sexxyist friends!

Yeah!! Tarra and Dave came to visit me before Christmas. She looks great in red which makes her pretty Huskery. A good match for Christmas too. While being so Huskery sort of takes the Christ out of Christmas it doesn't make much difference to me. As a Cat I still have 5 of my 9 lives left and I live in unrainy southern California so it's not like I have to worry about a lightening bolt from God! HA! Not that I'm here to offend God or anything. If any cat is going to heaven it will be me! That's for sure. And if I end up in Heaven, I'll sure miss my owners!!

This heaven thing though makes me wonder sometimes. Logically it seems like cats would end up in heaven because it's rather obvious all dogs will be going to hell. Surely an all-wise supernatural deity would have commonsense enough not to put cats and dogs together in the afterlife!! Plus, it's rather obvious God screwed up with making dogs in the first place. That was lame.

The problem is that theologians seem to agree that cats won't go to heaven. They point out that man was created superior to animals and that animals can’t be equal with him or some such bullshit. Maybe these theologians with their fancy PhDs need to read the Holy Book a little closer.

Here's where they get this idea: Then God said, "Let us make man in our image, in our likeness, and let them rule over the fish of the sea and the birds of the air, over the livestock, over all the earth, and over all the creatures that move along the ground" (Gen 1:26). Obviously cats are not fish, birds or livestock! We're also not "creatures" since that refers to monsters, Big Foot, dead dinosaurs, dragons and aliens from outer space. Plus, cats certainly have the ol' "breath of life" so I think God is looking out for us. Otherwise, why would we have 9 lives! This just makes sense.

I kinda got off the track here. Probably because of all this Christ in Christmas business. My owners don't seem to spend any time worshipping or going to Church so I'm assuming they're not big into that kind of stuff. For me ... I believe in God. Usually anyway. It makes sense if I don't think about it too much. And why chance it??? If I believe in God and end up in Heaven, yeah for me! If you don't believe in God and there is a Heaven, I think it's safe to say you're screwed!! Anyway - that's the Christmas message as I understand it.

Anyways, Merry Christmas everybody!!

NEWS FLASH - Kira comes to live here!!

Hey, Kira came all the way down from Oregon to see me. In fact, she decided to move in!! That's what I thought at first. She had a big suitcase and some other stuff. She kept her suitcase closed so I couldn't get into it, but let's not start this post off in a negative light. I'm not that kind of cat!

It's a big deal to come here since Oregon is so far away. Fun fact: Kira has the only cat in Oregon. That's weird if you think about it. I heard her talking about her cat and that's the only cat in Oregon I've ever heard of. I'm not sure why cats are so unwelcome in Oregon. Maybe it's because it rains lots in Oregon and lets face it, cats don't like to get rained on.
Speaking of disappointments, it turns out that she didn't move in. She was just staying a couple days. I thought this would be a bonanza for me seeing as how she seems much more attentive than the current inhabitants of this hovel.

When she got here she was dressed all normal. But (and I'm not sure exactly how this happened) a little later in the day she turned into some kind of Christmas Princess.

I'm not completely sure about this Christmas Princess thing cause I'm making several inferences in arriving at this conclusion. Not that this is a crime or anything. I would offer as evidence these first two photos that caught her in the act of showing me some love. Which isn't a crime either. Notice her stylish and very fashionable pink dress. It's has ermine trim. Ermines are little white weasels that rich people kill and use for trim on their fancy clothes. It's very expensive fur which is kind of funny when you think it's just a white weasel! But Kira doesn't just have ermine trim. Apparently she authorized the mass murder of a bunch of ermines for her hat. I don't mean to make it sound like there's anything wrong with mass murdering. They're just weasels. I doubt that even deranged PeTA people would give a damn about killing off weasels. Weasels are like one step above rats in the evolutionary tree and all they have to offer society is their little fur coats.
But I'm getting off the topic. If you notice in this third photo of an actual Russian Princess, it shows that Kira's hat is much like the Princess's. Royalty would have hats like this - it said so in google. They would also have dogs (as shown here) probably because royalty inbreed amongst themselves and end up over the generations a little retarded in the brain. With Kira you get beauty + brains!

Kira was expecting to be nice and warm here in southern California. Sadly, it was cloudy, cold and windy instead. She froze her behind off! You can see this in this parking tower surveillance photo that I was able to obtain. People kept telling her that she must have brought the bad weather from Oregon. That's just dumb. People can't "bring the weather" with them!

Obviously I don't hang out in parking towers so I wasn't able to help but if you notice Kira warmed right up when she got back and spent some time with me. Sadly she was leaving and this was the last squeeze for me if you know what I mean. That's too bad because I'd rather have her than a bowl of heavy cream! But she is going to visit again in a couple months. Bottom line is that I'm a bit of a chick magnet around here!

Snap a Rat!!!

We've been having rat problems on the home front for a couple weeks! Turns out the city tore out a bunch of ground cover in the middle of the street not but one house away and, all the local houses were recipients of the rats who previously were plenty happy there. This has been loads of fun! Nothing like a good rat chase to keep one young! Anything that will help me stay young is good since I'm 18 years, 2 months old. But who's counting!

The owner got one of these big traps for the garage. They think they pretty much got the house sealed up but there still a few sneaking in somehow. Or maybe they can't get out. I don't care as long as we get them appropriately murdered. In a fun irony we put cat food in the traps. The rat sniffs his way (or her, I'm an equal opportunity rat slayer) over to the trap and as soon as they put their little sniveling rat nose onto the food - SNAP!!! The big serrated jaws of death hammer their head instantly sending them to Rat Hell where they will burn for eternity or be eaten alive by Satan's cats.

Before the owner got out here to see the recently demised rat cadaver I was able to lay out the crime scene. I've done this a million times as an experienced RSI (Rat Scene Investigator), thus the obvious professionalism you see in the crime scene photos. Just doin' my job.Exhibit A3 (above the expired rat) shows a piece of the cat food. It's Friskies hard food that leads the rat to his demise. Another lovely irony is that the food pieces are heart shaped. I like to think that I kill with love. I'm all about love especially seeing as how I love murdering rats! As can be seen in this photo, I'm a paws-on type of cat. Here I am smelling the sweet smell of rat termination.

I don't mean to be crass but this is kind of funny. The trap slammed down on the rat sooo hard that the just expired rat blew blood out its ass! That's why I said it was crass. Get it? HA!! I'm glad his little rat family didn't see this! How embarr-ass-ing would it be to see a rat family member who had a little explosive bleeding upon his p-ass-ing? That's a rhetorical question really - obviously it would be embarr-ass-ing. Damn, I'm having too much fun with this!! No doubt about it, dead rats are damn funny.

Anyways, suffice it to say that the deceased rodent is no more, he's gone to meet his maker, and that's just how we like them here. What you see here is a traditional kind of rat killing machine, but my one owner is rather perverse about rat murdering. He's willing to spend the big $$ for latest technology in rat extinction science.

He got four RatZappers (trademarked name) for the attic. They are little metal tube things (see photo) that you put food in the end and the rat sneaks into the tube and when he puts a thieving paw by the food he triggers an electrical shock (a zap if you will, specifically a rat zap!) which fries his brain and stops his heart dead basically snuffing the consciousness out of his future. It's pretty fun to watch! If rats had a brain they would know that I deploy only the latest in innovative, breakthrough rat murdering technology at our facility! The units even have a remote monitoring device so the murderer doesn't have to take time out of his day to check the traps. These things are so efficient they have to be German technology!

The RatZapper company says their annihilation units are 100% humane with "no blood, no gore, no mess." That's too bad - apparently the company doesn't appreciate the deep emotional satisfaction of inflicting pain and torture resulting in blood, gore, and, yes, a mess! Nothing wrong with a little rat mayhem! I'd be happy to consult with them in developing a ratzapper that was only 20% humane. This unit would come highly recommended in the cat community. I have time to do this since, due to the economy, my hours have been cut back on my Huskercat promotional responsibilities and Fancy Feast hasn't come through with a contract yet. I hope I'm not sending letters to the wrong address ....

So, anyways, all I have to say to rats, to paraphrase former President Bush, is BRING 'EM ON!

Scoring drugs and the payoff!

This is a story about drugs and money. My owners had been plenty neglectful and hadn't renewed my Rx for prednisolone. I do 5mg/day. It's a steroid and I'm supposed to take it every day. I can be a monster on that juice! My owner went to the Canyon Crest Animal Hospital which is where I'm seen for usual problems. When I need an oncology specialist Vet naturally I go to the California Veterinary Specialists (CVS). But I'm on drugs because I have cancer so EXCUSE ME if I don't want my humans farting around with this!! So anyways, the Animal Hospital, which is close to home, seems to be all decked out for Christmas. Let's bear in mind that it's the day before Thanksgiving so apparently the Animal Hospital is trying to cash in on the crass commercialism of Christmas rather than respecting it as a traditional religious holiday. Not that I give a damn one way or another, actually.

To get back to the story, my owner wanted to score the steroids at the local place but it's the CVS docs that prescribe it. Apparently is some kind of federal crime (!!) to have one place dish out the drugs unless there is some kind of coordination of medical care. This is all getting pretty complicated given what I hear you can score at the middle school a few blocks away. I'm sending my owner out to score the drugs. It's hard to imagine this is a crime. It's not like Rush Limbaugh did time for having his maid do the same thing! We're both celebrities! Just give us the damn drugs!!

Thanks god for Jennifer (on the left) who is the vet tech who visits me when my owners take off. As a trained specialist, she is able to give me the drugs I need every day as well as serve me dinner (always Fancy Feast Grilled Tuna with Gravy). She works at the animal hospital and she fast talked her way to getting what I needed since they have them right there in the hospital. So my owner scores the dope and hightails it home so I can get back on the juice. This all happened because my owner finally paid her professional fees to looking after me a couple weeks ago. They need to stay on top of this a little better.

The only question I have now is who the hell is that guy in the picture?? His name is Ryan but I've never seen him. He doesn't care for my needs. The only thing I can think of is that he wanted to hop onto Jennifer's claim to fame as a regular on my blog. But I don't know Ryan from Adam. Actually, I don't even know an Adam. I'm not sure why I said that. But if he pulls that stunt again I'll bill him for my promotional services!

Asthma, sneezing, and a wart or something

So here I am. Hauled off to the vet again! I had to see my board certified oncologist for some reason and that reason was that I've been coughing and sneezing a bit. Can you imagine what this world would be like if they hauled every human to the vet when they coughed or sneezed!! Yeah? Well neither can I! So, yes, this is me waiting for the medical staff sitting in my the PPU (portable prison unit supplied by the secret police! You'ld think I was on trial for selling the secret recipe for Fancy Feast Grilled Tuna in Gravy!)

I'm always annoyed when they drag me to these places. But out comes the cheerful medical staff to try and get me in a good mood. I know better though. They just sneaky. No matter how cheerful they are, I'm always hauled into the back room for some pretty rough treatment!
Although I have to say this staff person is pretty easy on the eyes! And I don't need hate mail from the radical feminists either! I call'em as I see them! Anyways, her name is Liz. She's a little new here and lives in Oceanside which from the sound of it is probably by the ocean. She interrogates my owner (in a very pleasant way) about my "problems." He says I'm coughing and sneezing and he thinks I've lost weight and there a little thing on my neck. Jesus! I didn't know I was so messed up until Mr Doom started laying it all out!

If you're a reader of my blog (and apparently you are!) you probably know that the first thing they do when they drag you into the backroom is see how much you weigh. You'ld think they were going to sell cat by the pound out the back door or something! HA!! Ok, anyways, it appears that I've lost 8/10's of a pound since May which if you do the math (which I don't personally do) it means I've lost almost a pound. That's a bit if you now weight 10.22 pounds like me now. I'm not sure what that last "2" in 10.22 means. I bet it's less than what an upchucked furball weighs! This weight loss is probably bad news ...
Next, Brooke, another one of the medical types since she has a listening thing around her neck, seems obsessed with time. She's timing my heart I guess. She kept holding me tight - I guess she couldn't get enough of me!

I was hauled in here as a patient, but Brooke promoted me to Doctor! I assumed that's what the ritual of draping the heart listening device around my neck meant. And I assumed wrong. Apparently they were having a little fun at my expense but we were all having fun. And with these guys that just makes you suspicious!

So far nobody has shoved a needle into me so I'm not going to complain just yet!Finally the head guy gets to see me. He's my board certified oncologist. Most cats don't have board certified medical staff. But not all cats are VIP cats either - I'm not to blame for that. I'm not even sure what that certified stuff means but my owner thinks it's a big deal.
Dr Prouix was doing a major check up on me when this wise-cracker started goofing off! Probably the janitor or something! Turns out he's another one of those board certified vets (Dr Trostel), although let's be honest he wasn't acting like it! From the looks of it, Dr Prouix thought he was acting pretty silly. Dr Prouix is a real professional.

So what's up with my medical self - well, it would appear that it was kind of complicated. I know it's complicated because Dr Prouix always draws pictures since my owner doesn't seem to catch on very fast.
I had my web guy highlight the important things. I'm pretty sure I got it all right. It's not like I have a DR in Vet Science. It's a custom hand drawn picture of me. It doesn't look like me because Dr Prouix isn't exactly an artist and he was drawing my insides. It feels like I have more in me than what he drew, but he's the doctor. He gets paid for knowing this stuff.

So what's the bottom line? What's this cryptic diagram really mean? Well, if I had paid better attention I might have more to say but here's what I remember. The coughing is probably a little asthma. You can see in the diagram that my bronchial tubes get enlarged and that will cause problems with enough air getting into my lungs. That must not be too bad because Dr Prouix didn't give me any drugs for it. He said my steroids would help with it. I like the steroids - nothing like having a little JUICE in my system for chasing and murdering all the new mice that the bird feeder is attracting. The sneezing is no big deal. I'm not sure what the other internal parts of me do. Neither of these are symptoms of any cancer problem which is in remission so it's not a problem anyway. I guess. Dr Prouix said he wasn't worried about my weight loss yet, but that my owners should mix my food up a bit and serve me some even more elegant and expensive treats. Ok, I'm paraphrasing what he said a little, but it wouldn't be the first time a trip here resulted in me getting more of the good food - Fancy Feast Grilled Tuna in Gravy. I think they'll need to get me more of a variety. As long as it's the grilled stuff in gravy, that's good. Maybe they should start getting me those Pounces again! Oh - and that little bump on my neck. Dr Prouix said he thought it was a wart. THAT was a little embarrassing! Warts are disgusting. At least mine is covered by fur so it's not a cosmetic problem like with humans so as long as I'm looking good, it's not big deal!

After all this my head was kind of spinning. How the photographer guy actually got a picture of my head spinning is beyond me, but that's how it feels after all this diagnosing stuff. It's not exactly unpleasant. Maybe it's the drugs they got me on. Better living through chemistry, I always say. Actually, my owner is the one who always says that. I think he has problems.

Hey - look! The camera got a picture of the medical bill on top of the PPU. One thing these big medical bills prove is just how important I am! As far as I'm concerned the bigger, the better!! (I bet my vets are with me on that!!)

On the way home I was pretty pooed out. It wasn't a bad visit. They didn't "put me under" and they didn't reinforce their vampiric tendencies by removing some of my blood like they usually do. They got somebody new who seems to really like me. And to top if off, Maggie stopped in to say hi and show some love! She's usually my medical technician but for some reason she didn't get assigned to my case today. I hope for her sake they didn't have her doing dog duty. THAT would suck. But she had a few good medical tips for my owner. I think she understands that he needs all the help he can get.

You can see from this surveillance photo from the car what I did on the way home - nap time! And if you're wondering why my owners car has a surveillance camera in it so am I! I'm outta here!

WE NEED HEALTH CARE REFORM NOW!!!

OMG!! WTF!! If there was ever a time for internet acronyms, it is NOW! Do I have a story to tell today! And it's a good case for health care reform too! I'm sure your attention is drawn by the images of utter horror that can be seen below. I don't want to come off hysterical or nothing, but I'm used to excellent medical care. My two oncologists at California Veterinary Specialists are board certified. One even wrote the textbook on cat cancer! My cardiologist is board certified. And my radiologist is board certified although he has a funny last name. The only medical personnel who has actually come see me at home has been Jennifer (a real sweetie) who is a highly trained vet tech from the Canyon Crest Animal Hospital (located in the upscale Canyon Crest neightborhood where I live).
SO, I ask --- What the hell were my owners thinking when they invited a voodoo nurse over to give me a shot!! (see above surveillance photo) We get weirdos visiting all the time around this hole, but I got to admit, a voodoo nurse is going to catch almost any cat off guard! I mean only some kind of wackjob would expect a voodoo nurse to walk in the door, right??

I don't like shots in the first place. I have to go get a damn blood test every month! And even with all the steroids they pump me with for my illness, I was plain afraid! Actually it was that special kind of afraid you get with voodoo nurses. In case anyone isn't buying this rather incredible story, please note the condition of the syringe (with attached needle, I might add!). That's right! It's an EMPTY syringe! She shot me up with some kind of stuff. And unless she's a certified medical practitioner (and let's face it, I think this is doubtful), I'm wondering what kind of curse she gave me. Did she inject me with chicken blood? Voodoo types sacrifice chickens and use chicken blood for all kinds of unspeakable acts. I'd go into more detail, but like I said, they are unspeakable. Not that I care what happens to chickens. Chickens are just big birds. They deserve whatever happens to them anyway. All this probably doesn't make any difference. I take a human cancer drug. If I got something in me that kills cancer, I'm sure it can deep six whatever voodoo curse she injected into me!

I don't think she was a legitimate voodoo nurse. I'm pretty sure she was undead though. She has autopsy scars. She's the first person I've met with autopsy scars! Maybe she escaped from the morgue! HA!
It was a weird situation for sure. But I headed out back, got a drink out of the bird bath, took a big stretch and then headed off for a nap. I don't think the voodoo curse she injected me with will do me any harm.

I don't buy all that kind of voodoo, superstitious, quasi-religious mumbo jumbo. This is a world of science and that's why I go to all my board certified specialists for my medical care. They are trained in science stuff. Plus, when you got 9 lives you don't have to worry about voodoo curses anyway. If this happens again, I'll just sink a pair of claws into her! That's how I give "injections!"

Ali - My sexy new friend!

There's so many people visiting me lately there's no denying my popularity now! Not that I'm planning on getting a big head or anything. Ali popped over the other day but somehow they didn't get a photo of me with her then. I can't tell you how hard it is to get reliable help. I think I might have been out back dining on mouse anyway.

Ali is wearing a bridal dress but I should probably clear up right away that we aren't getting married. A person can't marry a cat! Besides, I spend all my time worrying about me. I don't think she got married here because there wasn't a minister or some official kind of person around here.

She seemed pretty happy to see me (see photo) so I hope she comes around more often. Maybe she won't wait until she's about to go before giving me some hug! It's not like I'm hard to find. If I'm not sleeping on the owner's pillow, I'm probably on patrol in the backyard which is my major responsibility around here.

I GOT STUCK GOOD! RIGHT IN THE JUGULAR!!

It was a perfectly good Saturday morning. Not that I make a habit of keeping track of days. I'm just trying to be complete. I don't mean Anyways, I come in from my morning prowl/patrol and am swept up by my owner (the big one), which is fine since he always rubs my head with his face (it sounds disgusting but it feels good), and then get the shock of the week. I'm immediately tossed into this PPU (portable prison unit in case you haven't been reading my blog). Well I can tell you one thing - it's never good news to be tossed into one of those. Next think I know we're in the car and I have a feeling he's about to deliver me to the cat doctor. It's not like I've been sick either. They keep me pumped up on so much steroids I'm pretty much invincible. Ask any dog that has made the mistake of straying into my yard!

Here's the problem with being stuck in a PPU. I get to the Canyon Crest Veterinary Hospital and this house cat comes by getting all hissy with me. I bet they don't let her out. Vets don't like letting cats go outside. I guess Vets like pussies for cats! :) If I wouldn't have been trapped in this cage I would have sunk a paw full of claws into that prissy head of hers.

So the deal is that I have to give some blood again. This is happening way too often. One of my oncologists (all board certified) have to make sure my blood is ok before they give me more cancer drugs. I'm assuming that Jennifer who is one of the vet techs here, who looks after me when my owners desert me from time to time, will be taking charge here but she's nowhere to be seen.

I've always told about what a medieval torture practice this blood letting is but nobody believed me.

Well Here's PROOF! It took two of them to get it from me. They actually poke a needle into my JUGULAR VEIN! Then they unsquirt my blood into a tube.

It's pretty sick if you ask me! The two culprits are Charlene and Claudia. That's Claudia who has me in some kind of steel grip. She clearly has experience doing this. Charlene is the one who seems awfully handy with the needle. There were a bunch of dogs in the place. I bet she likes poking needles into dogs. At least that would be funny!

You got to be pretty good with the needle to nail the jugular vein. One slip and you got blood all over! I was disappointed that Jennifer wasn't in there with me. But she was there helping us check out. There's quite a bit of paper work with important medical procedures like this. And by paper work I mean the green kind of paper (see photo). But one thing for sure, I'm worth it!

Tia: My sexy new friend!

I wasn't expecting any company today but I got a surprise when Tia showed up. She's a new face around here. That's good because we needed a new face around here. And one as pretty as hers really classes this place up!

Her and my owner spent all afternoon taking pictures. It was pretty busy in there so I avoided it as I didn't want any disruption of my napping.

I checked things out after they got done. This is when I got the squeeze (if you know what I mean) from Tia. We hit it off. Not a surprise, I know. People usually like me a lot. As far as I'm concerned she can come back anytime!

Checking out the Bride! woohoo! Tarra comes to visit me (again!)

Tarra's one of my oldest sexy friends! I mean I've known her a long time - she's not like old or anything like my one owner. She came to see me last June according to my assistant who keeps my calendar. I don't pay much attention to times and dates. Well this time Tarra is getting married! This is pretty exciting! Naturally she wanted me in her photo. Not because she was marrying me (that would be weird!), but she likes me in her photos. I think she feels it gives her images an edgy feel with me in them. I'm happy to help out naturally. It's not like I got anything else really important to do.Her and the photographer were taking lots of bridal pictures. You can see me in this first photo. I sort of popped up so I could be right there with Tarra. It was pretty fun. But I don't think the photographer liked me that much. He seemed easily annoyed. I don't think he gets along with fun people (like Tarra) and celebrities (like me) very well.

I was able to get into a second bridal portrait too! That was fun. I kinda poked my head in from the side. It's pretty obvious Tarra doesn't mind. She looks pretty in every picture of her. So do I, but the photographer seemed to lose his cool when I got into this picture. All I wanted to do was get a better look at the view (if you know what I mean!).
The photo guy yelled at me. He must be pretty religious too because he was saying quite of few religious words although I don't really think I'm a God forsaken cat. As pissy as he was, I seriously doubt that he gets any direct communications from God. He should ask WWJD? I don't think Jesus would yell at me. He seems to be big into that Salvation Army Couture <--- that's a joke! I came into the world with 9 lives and I got plenty left. Humans only get one life and assuming the photographer is a human (HA!!) he's got one life. He better watch out yelling at a cat. I'm not threatening him (technically speaking), but he better watch his P & Qs! I'm not sure what P&Qs mean exactly, but I bet the "P" stands for Pussy. That would make sense.

They kept taking more pictures. She only needed one picture of her glamorous self in that fancy wedding dress. It didn't make much sense that they had to take that many. I think it's because he's not a very good photographer. He should take lessons or something. When you're taking pictures of someone as pretty as Tarra you could probably be a pretty lame photographer! How hard can it be to take a good picture of Tarra. Point camera, push button. I think that pretty much covers all one would need to do.

So I thought if he's going to keep taking pictures, I'll poke my adorable Main Coon mug into one of these last pictures. He put some stuff on the one side so I couldn't hop in to photo like I did on the last one. But the coast was clear on the other side. So in I pop! (see photo below) This was pretty funny and I look really good too. Tarra thought this was pretty funny. So did I. The photoguy apparently doesn't have a sense of humor though since he knocked over one of those fancy light things when he tried to shoo me away. He got pretty steamed. I think he was mad that he lost his cool in front of a pretty bride like Tarra. Given the photodude's lack of humor I decided not to get into more of the photos. At the time I thought they weren't going to turn out very good anyway, but I was wrong about that. Which just proves that you don't have to be a good photographer to get a glamorous picture of Tarra. No offense to the photographer. I'm sure he's good at something (I'm a milk bowl half full kind of cat). It's not my fault he's sorta lame at taking pictures. Tarra and I hung out for a while and she scratched me under the chin and petted me for awhile. She knows all my pleasure zones! It would have been perfect if she would have sneaked me a bowl of Grilled Fancy Feast Tuna with Gravy. I still have no idea who she's going to marry in that dress. Nobody deserves to be that lucky!

Tarra Terrorism: The Shocking Story Revealed!

It was a pretty fun weekend with Tarra and Dave staying over. It was pretty much okay that they were staying in the spare bedroom where I usually go to get away from it all. I like sleeping on all the pillows. The first night they closed the door. I'm not used to closed doors around this place. And closed doors usually magically open when I want to go through them. I wanted to find out what was going on in the room so naturally I scratched the door. That usually does the trick. I guess Tarra's not used to cats because she thought it was a mouse in the closet! That was a first! But she got over that and couldn't get enough squeeze time in with me. She gives good squeeze too!
As the Huskercat, I'm always happy to see fans wear their Husker clothes. Let's face it, Husker clothes wearers deserves a little extra respect. So I was dismayed when the backyard surveillance camera caught THIS picture! Some group of Tarra-terrorists got together and tossed my friend into the swimming pool! She was obviously caught off guard by this low rent, juvenile behavior! Humans sure look goofy when they get tossed into the pool. I guess it is kind of funny.
Getting thrown in the pool is a cat's worst nightmare! I don't mind chasing mice and lizards into the pool so they can drown. Let's face it - they have it coming. It's really funny when they get sucked into the skimmer. Talk about a thrill! The way I see it I'm just helping them get to vermin heaven a little faster. But Tarra recovered in a jiffy as can be seen by her theatric finish. She's a sweetie for putting up with this kind of abuse. I'd claw someones eyes out! Who knows what she'd do if she had claws.
It's nice having so much company lately. My owners get kind of boring after awhile. I like the excitement and fast paced life of having lots of visitors who will all throw some attention my way.