Q & A With Grover V. Fuzzy (The V Stands For 'Very')

Hi:

It's Grover. Listen, Well, it seems you would like to know more about me, Grover, King of The House. And, because you asked so nicely (fine, Teri asked so nicely!) and because my mom just realized we had been given two very lovely awards that she had yet to tell us about (harrumph!), if you keep reading you will find out more about who I am and what makes me tick.

Teri and the Furry Cats, and Elin gave us this great Honest Scrap Award!

And here are the rules:

“When accepting this auspicious award, you must write a post bragging about it, including the name of the misguided soul who thinks you deserve such acclaim, and link back to said person so everyone knows who he or she is.

Choose a minimum of 7 blogs that you find brilliant in content or design. Or improvise by including ones who have no idea who you are because you don’t have 7 friends.

Show the 7 random victims’ names and links and leave a harassing comment informing them that they were prized with “Honest Weblog.” Well, there’s no prize, but they can keep the nifty icon.

List at least ten honest things about yourself, as well as an Honest Photo...Then, pass it on! “

So, here are some Honest Things About Me and my photo above is quite honest, indeed:

1. My full name is "Grover V. Fuzzy, the 'V' Stands for Very". That is what it says on my papers. My mom is named Cunia and my dad is Little Mr. Gigolo.

2. I ripped my mom's right eyelid open when I was a kitten and she had to get four stitches in it, but I did not rip the nerve so her eye is OK. However; because she has a scar from me she said she will not be getting a tattoo for me, even though she has one for our cat Jade who died and even though she's currently planning on getting a Piggy tattoo. That's mean! I will guilt her into changing her mind.

3. When my mom brought Piggy home my whole personality changed - I used to be very happy-go-lucky and I loved everyone! She feels very badly about this and I am glad. She thought I needed a friend after Cheshire died and so she got Piggy to keep me company. Um, can you say, WRONG!?!

4. My mom had four surgeries in 5 years and after each one I guarded her injured parts for months and if anyone tried to go near her I would hiss at them and swat them. Everyone said I was a very good guard.

5. I snuggle Piggy when no one is looking.

6. The fur on the top of my head looks like Friar Tuck.

7. When I was a kitten, people thought I was a monkey.

8. Whenever my mom is in the shower we play a game of 'tap tap' through the shower curtain. I stand up and beat the shower curtain with both my paws and my mom laughs.

9. I will knock over ANYTHING that is on a table or counter and pull things out of drawers and unroll the toilet paper and tear things up if I am in a certain mood. I am in a certain mood a lot, especially lately.

10. I saved my mom from heart-break after Jade died.

11. I was a very, um, active kitten and broke nearly every breakable thing in the house and made my mom cry a lot...especially when I ripped her eyelid open. Frankly, I think I was paying her forward for bringing Piggy into my life when I was five years old. Payback's a bitch, eh? I know she thinks I'm so super cute because she always used to say to me, "Grover, you are so freaking lucky you are so freaking cute!"

We would like to know honest things about all our friends, and a lot of our friends have already posted their honest things, but here are 7 we don't think have done so yet:

Marley, Reggie and Me
Jeter Harris
A Few Good Cats
Artsy Catsy
Cats of Wildcat Woods
The Meezers
Meir Cats

And now you will learn even MORE about me, because not only am I totally freaking fantastic, the Cats of Wildcat Woods gave us this fantastic award!

I'm supposed to give you six things that make me happy. Ok, here goes.

1. My mom.
2. My mom carrying me.
3. When Piggy leaves me alone.
4. Any water that has touched my mom - I drink her bath water when she takes a bath, and every morning I get into the shower after my mom gets out and I drink the water at the bottom of the tub.
5. Sitting on the stove, particularly if a burner is lit.
6. Licking my mom's face when she sleeps.

And that is enough about me.

Because we think you are all so creative, we pass this award onto all our friends...and these, too!

Shana
Zippy, Sadie and Speedy
Mr. Hendrix
The Fine Felines
William
Poppy Q

Luv,

Grover

Peach Piggy

Hi:

It's Grover. Listen, Pig is freaking me out. Seemingly overnight, he sprouted PEACH FUZZ! I think this means he is nearly done transforming into a Monster, but my mom thinks this mean he is finally getting nutrients again. She was way overly excited to see him with fuzz. Is there ANYTHING he does that she doesn't find cute? I think not.

This weekend, Pig attempted to clean his sweater by himself since our mom was otherwise engaged and still hadn't washed the nasty thing as of Saturday morning. I watched him do this for quite some time, all the while getting more and more disgusted. Finally, our mom noticed, got the hint, and took the schmata off of him.

In the time it took her to turn around to get the new sweater, Pig had done one of the dumbest things he has ever done, and that is saying he lot.

He must be tired of being Frankenpiggy, because when she turned back around to put the fresh sweater on him, less than 30 seconds later, his tooth was stuck in his top stitch and he was pulling on it and making oinking sounds.

Um, can you say MORON?

It was really stuck on there, but she managed to slip the stitch off his tooth. His incision was no worse for wear, as he is a great healer and it is all sealed up. But our mom thinks he is trying to give her heart attack and I agree, because that is what Monsters do! They try to scare you to D E A T H!

Anyway, she got the black sweater on him as you can see here.

And then he got to sit on bubble wrap, his favorite thing, because he is a spoiled brat. Notice how saggy his wrinkly skin is? My mom says that is because he's lost so much weight. But I say it's one more piece of proof that Pig is morphing into a disgusting flabbity Monster.

After Wednesday, when he gets his stitches out, his transition from Frankenpiggy will be complete. What's next? Pigzilla?

Luv,

Grover

P.S. Our mom says to tell you that Piggy ate a lot this weekend. He did lose a few more ounces, but the Prednisolone (and maybe the Sucralfate, too?) seems to have given him back his appetite and she is very thankful. He must be feeling better, because for the past few weeks I have been able to hiss at him and he would walk away in great fear. But yesterday I hissed at him and he just sat there and then he swatted at me so I hit him in the head and THEN he walked away. But he didn't look so fearful. I imagine it's just a matter of time until he starts gallumping on me again. Harrumph.

Plush Piggy

Plush Piggy, the year he grew the most fur ever.

Hi:

It's Grover. Listen, I want you to know another creepy fact about Piggy. Sometimes, he grows FUR. I know. It's horrible and further proof of his Monster-ness.

Our mom was chatting with Marley and Reggie's mom about Sphynxs and she shared this picture of Piggy from a few years ago. Every winter he used to grow some fur, just a wee patch, but that particular year he grew a plethora of fur! It was so horrifying that I tried to lick it off him. I licked and licked in an effort to remove it and, because he is daft, he mistook my efforts as my trying to groom him. As if I were trying to be NICE or something. Bitch, please.

Anyway, when my mom was discussing Pig's symptoms with our vet a few days ago, she told him she had missed noticing a few symptoms; one of which is that this winter is the first time since he was born that Pig did not grow any fur at all. She realized this could have been a symptom when Teri shared that hair loss could be a sign of Inflammatory Bowel Disease, which Pig was just diagnosed with a severe case of. He doesn't have hair, so he didn't lose it, but he didn't grow it either and that was probably a sign.

Also, a few months ago, Pig began needing three to five tries to get up on the bed at night, where he used to gallump up in one try like he was in flight and often landed on me, scaring the bejesus out of me.

So, when he was no longer gallumping onto the bed at night, my mom began pretending she's a freaking cheerleader, forgetting that in school she did NOT make the cheerleading team and, instead, had to settle for being a TWIRLER - and I don't care if she did twirl batons, flags, rifles and fire. I don't care that she wore a short, flippy, trollopy skirt just like the cheerleaders, everyone knows that cheerleaders are better than twirlers. Anyway, so now she cheers Piggy to encourage him to get on the bed.

My feeling is that if he can't get on the bed, that is HIS problem. But no. She now does this annoying counting-his-tries thing and cheering-him-on thing. Like this:

Come on, Piggy! Come on, Piggy! One! Two! Come on, Piggy! You can do it! Three! Four! YAY! Five! You did it! Good, Piggy!

I just threw up in my mouth a little.

Anyway, so she attributed Piggy's sudden inability to join us in bed as Piggy being bottom-heavy (she is so PC, let's call a Pig a pig, shall we - he's FAT! Or was...), instead of realizing it was his muscles becoming less strong. He used to feel like a plump, hard football and now he feels like a deflated football. And they really DO make footballs from Pig skin, so let that serve as a warning to you, Mr. Piggy.

Anyway, I am only telling you this because sometimes "symptoms" of something amiss do not seem to be symptoms at all and instead are written off as 'nothing'. Most of the time, they probably ARE nothing, but sometimes they are not.

And that is what we learned this week.

Just sayin'.

Luv,

Grover

P.S. Pig ate more baby food and more yogurt and did not puke! He won't eat more than a few bits of our regular dry cat food though...who cares, more for me!

P.P.S. Pig says to tell you that his sometimes-fur is luxurious, not scary. He also said to tell you he wishes our mom would wash his sweater.

Bag Piggy

Hi:

It's Grover. Listen, I have no idea what the appeal is, but Piggy found his way into another plastic bag. Yes, he ripped open a tied bag of clothes that our mom had loaded up to donate to GoodWill. He just ripped it open as if that were an OK thing to do. As if that is what good cats do, just rip open bags at will and climb on in and hunker down as if the bag of clothes to donate was your own personal super-special hide-away. Like it was his honeymoon suite or something and next up is a bubble bath in some giant, gaudy champagne glass followed by an evening of cavorting and caterwauling with his betrothed. He's neutered. He really needs to get a grip.

Anyway, so we have good news here - Piggy ate something! And, even better, he didn't puke it up. The vet gave him a drug called Cerenia and it helped him feel less pukey so I didn't have to daintily step over piles of bile and partially digested food last night.

He is also going to start on another drug called Sucrolfate which should help all the erosions in his belly get coated so he can eat more and not feel sick.

That being said, I am exceedingly happy to report that Pig's illness finally, FINALLY, benefits me. Yup. My mom bought Earth's Best chicken baby food for Pig, but we BOTH got to eat some last night!! And I got to eat MORE than Piggy, which I think proves who's the favorite around here, despite all other glaring red neon signs that seemed to point to a certain stinky porcine-ish creature.

Oh my gosh, the stuff is SO good. I love it. As I am a bowl half-full sort of cat (Was that a snicker? Did you just snicker? Stop it!) I won't harp on the fact that I am certain this stuff existed for my entire life and only NOW am I being introduced to it. Instead, I will concentrate on the fact that this stuff is even better than Pepperidge Farm Goldfish and I am a very happy lamb indeed.

And now, a nap.

Luv,

Grover

P.S. Pig is still in that freaking sweater. And, rumor has it that one of his fans is sending him something 'handsome' to wear. Oh someone, please make it stop.

P.P.S. From the bottom of our hearts, thank you for thinking of us and helping things get better here at Grover's House with your love and prayers and good wishes.

P.P.S. Piggy just said to tell you it is NOT Grover's House, it is Piggy's House. But I think if one compares the amount of baby food I got to the amount Pig got, one could not disagree with me. Can I get an amen?

Frankenpiggy!

Smiley bandage over IV spot.

Hi:

It's Grover. Listen, there is a reason I want nothing to do with Pig and it's not because I'm being mean, contrary to popular belief.

See, first of all, he came home from the vet on Friday smelling like poops. I know my mom washed his super-special blanket but she did not give PIG a bath and HE still smells like poop, in my humble opinion. I know she said he does not. But he does. My little black nose is far more sensitive than hers.

The truth is, he SCARES me. He is Frankenpiggy, see for yourself.

Three little stitches for one little Piggy.

My mom is trying to hide the fact he's now a Monster by putting him in a lame red turtleneck as if he were some kind of beatnik. What's next? A beret, Daddy O'? I am not fooled. He's a stinky cat. But not THAT kind of cat.

He is feeling particularly unwell (an understatement, sadly) since Saturday, so I will not be actively mean to him (of course!), but I also do not want him even LOOKING at me because he gives me the stink eye, literally, and then I hiss at him and then I get yelled at. Me. Little cute woolly Grover. Little dumpling-scented Grover. Yes. Me who doesn't stink. Me who has enough self-respect to know cats do NOT wear clothes. Me who sits on the edge of the tub when my mom takes a bath to make sure she's OK and to lick water off her knees. Me who sleeps next to my mom's head every night to keep Monsters at bay. Wee, good HEALTHY Grover. ME! And I get yelled at? AND she brings Monsters to bed now?

Bitch, please.

And she wonders why I hiss at that stinky pink thing? Sheesh.

We are still waiting for the results of Piggy's bone marrow test but so far we know that he has severe Inflammatory Bowel Disease, which I think is just a ploy so he can have Pill Pockets twice a day, which he usually loves. Tonight though, he puked them up ten minutes after taking his first dose of Prednisolone and scared the shit out of all of us. Mom waited a while and gave him another dose, but without Pill Pockets.

Still, I am not fooled, because he's never acted SICK ever (until they took too many bits of him on Friday - harrumph!), so I think he is in cahoots with the vet to empty mom's wallet and to get my mom to feel all badly for him and buy the Pill Pockets so he can have super-special treats to go along with his super-special pink skin and his super-special blue plaid blanket and his super-special freaking TURTLENECK, for gosh's sake.

Am I the ONLY sane one in this household? Am I?

That was rhetorical.

If a tree falls in the forest...yes, Pig would STILL stink.

Harrumph.

Luv,

Grover.

P.S. Shhhh...this post is for my mom and Piggy's benefit so they think I'm my usual snarky self because I do NOT want my mom or Piggy to know that it makes me very upset to see Piggy feeling so awful. I even snuggled him all day when no one was home to see me. And when my mom came home, I quickly jumped up and told her Piggy was being all drama and that he looked really super-dumb in his freaking TURTLENECK. What a drag, man.

P.P.S. Piggy is asleep, yes, STILL in his turtleneck (!) on my mom's lap. So far he has not puked up again since she gave him another dose of pills, and we are glad the first 10 mg of drugs are running through his system to help him get better.

P.P.S. I want to sit in my mom's lap, too. Harrumph. Luv, Grover

In Which Piggy Discovers What He's Been Missing

Hi everyone:

It's Allison, Grover and Piggy's mom. Listen, I am so touched by the outpouring of love and generosity through your comments and emails and blog postings for Pig. Words cannot express how much it means to us to know that people (and kitties!) who have not yet met our boys in person can hold them in their hearts and prayers and help guide us through.

Thank you. Those words sound so insignificant. But I'll say them again. Thank you!!

We should have test results on Monday. Pig took quite a while to come out of anesthesia yesterday, but he did just fine and has some cool stitches to show for it. Stay tuned for Grover's post entitled: Frankenpiggy!

The incision was for the bone marrow extraction and also for the lymphnode biopsy. The endoscopy already showed one thing, which is that he has mass erosion in his digestive track all the way along. I'll be very happy to know what we are dealing with as this has been ongoing since December 23rd. And still, Piggy is acting completely normal. So strange...

Something funny: Pig's vet told me he had sedated Pig and Pig was laid out on the table when the Pathologist arrived. The Pathologist, having not expected to see a big, pink, bald cat laid out, stopped in his tracks, his face drained of color and he held onto the door frame to steady himself...because he thought that the big, pink, bald thing lying there was a BABY!

Hee hee. So, that had me laughing yesterday (and today, too!) :)

When we got home from the vet, Pig immediately ate a giant bowl of food, drank a big bowl of water, pooped, peed and began licking and scratching at his stitches (which were, according to his vet, in a place he can't reach...yeah, right).

He started to bleed a bit from the incision, so I wrapped the wound with this sticky gauze stuff, going around his chest and under his legs. He was not pleased, and as soon as I let him go, he began walking backwards and howling. Then he ran under the bed and proceeded to scratch the gauze off.

Then I put a band-aid over the incision. That worked for about 2 minutes and then he licked it off.

So I wrapped him, again, in the gauze, deciding he will just have to deal with it; but it was pitiful to watch him walk around backwards and howl so I took it off.

I called the vet, who was closing in 10 minutes, and they were very apologetic because they thought he wouldn't be able to lick or scratch there (why? why would they think that?!) and said they would, since they were closing in ten minutes, leave one of those "Elizabethan collars" at the pet store across the street from their office for me to come pick up.

I started to get dressed to go do that and realized I couldn't leave the house and leave Pig here alone as Pig was scratching the bejesus out of his stitches. As I stood there figuring out what to do, the vet tech called back and said that it would be better if I put a sweater on him instead of the collar.

I said, "Pig does not have any sweaters because he is a CAT AND CATS DON'T WEAR CLOTHES!" I know people DO dress their cats...especially Sphynxs and I always think it's cute when I see it...(Piggy's littermate, Rocky, has a wardrobe of clothes and costumes bigger than my own!) but I myself have never put a sweater on Pig and it didn't lessen the quality of either of our lives.

The vet tech told me that she thinks a sweater would work better than the collar because the collar is not going to come down far enough to cover the incision.

She suggested I not buy one in a pet store because they are stupidly expensive, especially since he won't be wearing it again (because his mom, me, is, apparently, a judgmental bitch), and she suggested I go to a baby store and buy a cheapie baby sweater, something he could wear for at least 2 days til the incision starts to heal a bit.

I tell her that there are no 'baby stores' near me and I'm home alone and I can't leave him to even come get the collar because he is trying to rip his stitches out RIGHT NOW and of course then I start to cry.

She says, "You're small...maybe one of your tee-shirts will work."

I tell her I will go try to find something and she said she will stay there until I call back to tell her everything is OK.

I start frantically ripping through my closet - even my smallest tee is (obviously!) too big for Pig.

Then my creative mind kicks in (as the hysterics do), and I start searching through my socks for the widest ones - I try to get one over his head and he freaks out and, in the process, gouges my ankle, so now I am bleeding, too.

I find another sock and cut holes in what I think are the approximate location of his front legs. I am able to pull this sock over his head, but I'd made the leg holes off-center, so now he's howling again.

I take that sock off him and go into the duffel bag that has all my circus clothes that I no longer have a reason to wear since I was injured in 2007 and can no longer do aerial acrobatics. I found this very tight pair of thigh-length, thick, red, stretchy leggings that I used to wear over my unitard to help protect myself from the burn of the tissu and trapeze in class.

I held it against Pig to figure out where the leg holes should be, and then I cut slots in the leggings, pulled one leg (from the foot hole) over his head, stuck his front paws through the slots (perfect placement this time, thank goodness!), folded the ribbing down on his neck like a turtleneck would be, and cut the 'shirt' off a few inches behind his front legs.

Well, he immediately calmed down and it is obvious he's a little traitor to my 'cats don't wear clothes' stance because he LOVES his sweater. He was all proud and started licking me and prancing around like some kind of diva. I swear I saw him glance in the mirror and admire his dapperness. Then he climbed on me and started purring loudly and went to sleep.

And he hasn't scratched at or licked the incision, or even paid any attention to it at all, since.

And now the little bugger has converted me into a person who PUTS CLOTHES ON HER CAT! So welcome me to the club, y'all.

Pig had a very odd poop this a.m. - a huge pile of barely digested food, but his vet said this is normal after having an endoscopy and it should resolve itself in a few days.

Pig, still in his fancy sweater, (I think he looks totally freaking hilarious in it, so I have to keep peeking at him) is sleeping under his blanket on the bed and is as happy, as the saying goes, a Pig in shit. I'll keep you posted when we have some news on Monday...

Thank you, again, from all of us. You are forever in our hearts. We appreciate you!

OX

Allison, Grover and Piggy

Can't See Me!

Hi:

It's Piggy. Listen, shhhhhhhh....be very quiet. I have crawled into the bag of recyclables and no one can see me. I bet you even had trouble finding me in the picture, didn't you? I know! It's a great hiding spot!

I'm trying to avoid being found because at 8pm tonight my mom took my food bowl away and, if I remember correctly, the last time she did this was because I had to go to the vet the next day to have a test, so, I'm pretty sure that is what is happening tomorrow, and I'd really prefer avoiding THAT.

Another clue is that I heard her on the telephone discussing me and I heard her say things like "bone marrow aspiration", "endoscopy" and "lymphnode biopsy"; none of which sound like "Snacks!", "Q-Tips!" and "Bag Ties!" to me.

So, um, yeah; I'm staying right here, stealth-like in this bag.

The end.

Luv,

Pig

P.S. Hi, it's Grover. Listen, I can see Piggy in that bag and unless you're a bit dim, you can, too. That being said, Pig's right....he is going to the vet tomorrow morning at 8 o'clock for more tests as he is still losing weight and his blood tests get more and more wonky every few weeks and the vets fear he is very sick, even though he acts very normal, like the big potato-and-mushroom-smelling bully that he is. We're all very anxious about this. As a matter of fact, I'm so anxious I am not even going to tell my mom where Piggy is hiding. She won't find him. Lately, she's so pre-occupied with thinking we're going to lose our little pink Pig, that calling her "a bit dim" is an understatement. Your secret is safe with me, Piggy. Your secret is safe with me. Luv, Grover

P.P.S. Thanks and hugs to Teri for reviewing Piggy's test results and offering much love, information and support!

Drama Pig

Hi:

It's Grover. Listen, there are a few things wrong with this picture. First of all, Pig needs a bath. Second, I am not in the picture. Third, Pig's doing something weird with his mouth - is it open? Is it closed? Just what is he doing? Is he trying to say something? Is he going to talk about how PINK he is again? Is he starting to meow? Is he about to drawl, "Rhett, Rhett...Rhett, if you go, where shall I go? What shall I do?"

Pig, listen, you are not the star of some epic drama where you gaze forlornly into the distance and contemplate your navel. You don't even HAVE a navel.

Pig, please.

Luv,

Grover

Me, Too!

Hi:

It's Piggy. Listen, I take sun baths and my mom always has her camera in my face and I'm a handsome bastard, too! Not just Grover!

And...I'm P I N K!

Luv,

Pig

P.S. Hi. It's Grover. Listen, pink shmink. I'd call it salmon. And what the eff is up with his ears? Luv, Grover

Geezus Louiseus!

Hi.

It's Grover. Listen. Can't a person take a sun bath without having a camera stuck in their face? Can't a person just try and RELAX a little, do a little grooming, dream a little daydream, purr a little tune, without having a big, stupid LENS all AIMED at them, trying to catch some unspecified special MOMENT, something CUTE or PRETTY, something to REMEMBER me by when I kick the bucket? Geez. Just get AWAY from me already, OK?

Harrumph.

Love,

Grover

P.S. Damn, I am a handsome bastard.

The Power of Love

Hi:

It's Grover. Listen, I know Piggy and I can be really snarky to one another sometimes and he gallumps on me and I bite his neck and all of that, but the truth is we DO love one another.

A lot.

As proof, just look at Pig's feet.


The fact that I even still LOOK at him when he's got feet with little pointy weird appendages on them and (though you can't tell in this picture) big PADS on the bottom, like he's standing on round wads of ABC bubble gum (ABC = already-been-chewed); the fact that he has feet like THAT and I still even TALK about him, let alone TOUCH him should be proof positive of the power of love.

That's all I'm sayin'.

Luv,

Grover

P.S. Hi. It's Piggy. Listen. I have cute feet. Ask my mom. Luv, Piggy

P.P.S. Hi. It's Grover. Further proof of what I just said, feet only a mother could love. Luv, Grover

Maybe It's Raspberry Juice?

Hi:

It's Piggy. Listen, we don't know why there was blood on the floor last night. We do not know who it came from. We do not want our mom to keep searching us all over and poking and prodding and checking our butts and searching through our poops and such to find out where said blood came from. We don't know. OK? So stop it.

I have to admit I was the one who puked 3 times last night because my mom saw me do it. I wanted to eat it one of the times because my food wasn't even digested but my mom wiped it up too quickly. Harrumph.

Luv,

Piggy

P.S. Hi. It's Grover. Piggy is nasty. Luv, Grover

P.P.S.
We are both so very excited and thankful to read that The Creek Cats gave us this award yesterday. Gosh, it's so hard to pick just a few blogs to pass this on to today - we love you ALL and don't want anyone to feel left out - so we're thinking we're going to have to start giving out awards all the time, too, to thank you all for the joy and laughs you give us! So for today we're going to pass this cute award on to The Meezers; Shana The Dash Mouth; Jeter Harris; Marley, Reggie and Me; Cliff & Olivia; and Kitty Limericks.

Thank you!

A Calm Afternoon, I Hope

Hi:

It's Grover. Listen, our mom is obsessively weighing us and it's very annoying. I mean, the vet told her to weigh Pig every day at the same time and keep track, but he didn't say to weigh ME and I find it very insulting to have to sit there in her arms while she comments on how much I weigh. Please. Spare me.

In other news, today I decided to put all our toys in one spot because Piggy had made a mess and they were strewn all over the house.

Speaking of Piggy, he's sleeping in the bedroom under his special blue blanket. Note to mom: excuse me, where is the Grover special blanket, may I ask. Yeah, exactly. He played with one of the catnip socks our mom makes for us and he licked it and licked it and it is disgusting and soggy now and, of course, he over-indulged so now he will sleep it off the rest of the afternoon.

This is good because that means he will stop bothering me the rest of the afternoon.

Now if only mom would lick the catnip sock, maybe she'd stop bothering me, too.

Harrumph.

Luv,

Grover

Baby's Got Back

Hi:

It's Piggy. Listen, I know this falls under the heading "too much information" but I thought I would tell you guys anyway.

I had two normal poops.

My mom was very excited by this (how nasty is that?) and thinks the change of food is helping.

I still seem to be rapidly losing weight. Good thing I am very big boned and I do not look at all skinny. I have lost half of Grover's body weight - 3 pounds. Grover is such a show-off about how tiny and delicate he is, what a little cute thing and just so wee. Phooey. Mom doesn't help matters because she's always talking about it, too. Like, I've heard her on the phone discussing the fact that I weigh three times what Grover weighs.

Harrumph.

Luv,

Piggy

P.S. Hi. It's Grover. Listen, I do not think Pig has lost any weight because when he gallumps on me he still nearly crushes me. I'm lucky I am wiry and can wiggle out from under him and do my vampire grip on his neck to subdue him. I have great powers of subdue-ism. And I leave bite marks, too. So there.

Grover, Party of One

Hi:

It's Grover. Listen, finally I feel I have been shown the type of deference that the stinky pinky (i.e. Piggy) has been shown of late.

My water glass (I do not like to drink from a bowl, so I have a water glass, thank you very much. I used to like to drink from the bathroom sink but my mom never lets me any more, because she's a bitch.) sits on top of the clothes washer and now my mom put my bowl of our usual food (which Pig can't eat anymore) right next to it, rather than having my water in one place and my food in another place like it was before.

So, now I take a few laps of water, then turn my head very gentlemanly-like and I eat a few bits of food, then turn my head again and drink some more water...it is a very civilized way to dine.

Unlike that Pig who thinks his food bits are wee hockey pucks and he takes them out of his bowl and bats them all around the apartment before he eats them. And, he's always sticking his face into his water and then snorting it out dramatically because it goes up his nose. He says this is because he doesn't have whiskers so it's hard for him to tell the level of water in his bowl.

I say he's just a slob.

Manners. That boy needs to read Letitia.

Luv,

Grover

Swim At Your Own Risk

Hi:

It's Grover.

Listen, if you don't want anyone scratching holes in your hand-made gray hooded sweater, I suggest you not leave it hanging over the back of a dining room chair where it looks suspiciously like Something That Is Begging To Be Unraveled.

It's like how if you're on a surfboard out in the ocean and a shark bites you, you have to accept the shark was not trying to eat you; the attack wasn't personal to you at all...the shark was simply doing what nature taught him to do, and that is to try and eat what he thought was a seal.

Not the shark's fault that you looked like a seal, right?

And not the cat's fault that the sweater looked like Something That Is Begging To Be Unraveled.

Get it?

Luv,

Grover

P.S. Piggy did it.

Stinky Goodness In Da House

Hi:

It's Grover. Listen, yesterday my mom brought home our new cat food. Well, really, it's Piggy's new "experimental" food but I get to eat it, too, since no one could stop me anyway. So my mom opened the bag of Hill's Prescription Duck and Green Pea Formula and nearly fell over because she said it STINKS!

Piggy was sleeping under the comforter in the bedroom, but I was waiting not so patiently in the kitchen to taste this new food, and she was taking her sweet time.

First, she stuck her nose near the bag and made an ugly face. Then she read the bag. Then she stuck her nose near the bag again and then read the bag again and then she looked at me and said "OK, now I understand why the other blogging cats call their food Stinky Goodness."

I really wanted to try it, so I rubbed against the bag and licked her hand and made my eyes real big and tilted my head a bit to look extra-specially cute. It didn't work. She opened the bag AGAIN and sniffed it AGAIN and said, "This smells VERY wrong..."

It smelled damned good to me, but then she walked around the kitchen sniffing things - the garbage bag, the sink - I don't think she believed the delicious scent wafting from the cat food bag was really the cat food.

"Well," she said, "this offends me. But OK...."

She leaned back, poured some into our bowl (which is really a big abalone shell) and then, I am still so insulted by this I can barely type, and then....she carried it into the bedroom and put our new delicacy in front of Pig, whose wrinkly pink head was sticking out from under the comforter! Oh my gosh, as if he weren't already a spoiled baby, now he gets dinner in bed, too? WHAT?!?!

I know my mom does not play favorites (even though I myself have never received dinner in bed, harrumph), so I did not show her my indignation and instead jumped up on the bed and started gobbling our duck and pea flavored food. And it was DELICIOUS. Pig didn't eat too much of it, but that may be because I kept pushing his face away from the bowl because it was THAT good and I didn't want to share even though I know it's supposed to be for him because he's got The Sickness Of Unknown Origin.

And then, can you believe it, my mom picked me up and brought me to the kitchen and put me up on the fridge to eat our boring old food...well, OK, it's delicious, too, but variety is the spice of life. I ate my old food, but grudgingly. Then she went and got the new food from the bedroom and brought our bowl back to the kitchen and Piggy followed her and we both ate more of the Stinky Goodness. But Piggy didn't eat too much and I'm not sure if he liked it or not.

I love it. Rock on, Stinky Goodness!

Luv,

Grover

P.S. This is Piggy. Hi. I like the food. I got up three times last night to eat some and each time when I'd come back to bed and breathe on my mom's face she'd say, "Oh my god, what died in here?!" and I was very insulted. She explained that, to her, my new food smells like Something Very Wrong and now my breathe smells like Something Very Wrong, too. Harrumph.

P.P.S. This morning, mom said the whole kitchen, where our food bowl is, smells like Something Very Wrong, too. But me and Grover don't smell it. Luv, Piggy

The Reason

Hi:

It's Grover. Listen, there is a reason I don't cover my poop in the litter box, OK? And the reason is because of the phrase, "He thinks his shit don't stink." Well, yeah, exactly.

I'm smart and cute and funny and acrobatic and, also, I'm going to be 12 this year so I know a thing or two about a thing or two, not like big, fat Pig who is only going to be 7 this year and who thinks licking the inside of the armoire is a hobby.

But that Pig, he just cannot leave my poop alone in the box. Oh, no. He has to jump right in there and make a big honking show about covering it up. Like he's all clean and neat or something...and I know he's not because sometimes in the summer his skin is oily between baths and he leaves marks on stuff and usually in the winter he is flaky and leaves snow wherever he was sleeping and even on your clothes if you pick him up.

So this is not an issue of hygiene by any means. This is, I believe, an issue of dominance. And Piggy thinks he is the boss of me because he weighs three times what I weigh and because he's just freakin' GIANT and because he's PINK (which he thinks makes him super-special), whereas I am lean and svelte. and have wooly fur like a lamb.

And the reason I want you to know this is because it explains why Pig has bite marks on his neck this morning.

Harrumph.

Love,

Grover

P.S. Piggy said to tell you he is not only not afraid of me, but that he is going to kick my butt as soon as I publish this post.

P.P.S. To that I say, BRING IT, PIG!

Well...

Hi:

It's Piggers.

Well, we don't know too much more but we have blood test results from yesterday. We know that some things stayed exactly the same as they were on my blood work of January 24th, and some things are more elevated.

After yet another consult with a whole Troupe o' Needle-Waving Vets, we are all baffled.

What was decided is that, based upon the fact I am acting like my usual crazy self, not sick in any way, and even though my tests indicate some massive infection and cell weirdness and I'm losing weight and my lympnodes are enlarged, we are going to try something different and switch my food again; this time to a very hypo-allergenic kind.

I will be allowed to eat as much as I want (WAHOO!). The vet told my mom to watch me very carefully (as if she was not ALREADY driving me crazy with that one) and we have to go back to the vet for a weigh-in (sort of like Weight Watchers, but in reverse) and more blood work.

Mom goes to the vet now to pick up my new food. It is duck flavored! I've never had duck before but the vet said it is delicious (so he's told) and that the Hill's company even has a return policy because they are so sure I will like it. If I don't like it they will take it back and we will try another flavor - either rabbit or venison. When the vet asked my mom to choose a flavor she said, "Um...so he can have Thumper, Bambi or Donald?" And the vet laughed and said that he's never known a cat to turn down duck, so Donald it is.

Grover will be so jealous. Or so I thought. Apparently, we will both be eating this food for a while since we like to eat from the same bowl. Well, that is not exactly true because my mom and Grover are sneaky and think they are fooling me, but I saw that Grover has his own special bowl of food up on top of the refrigerator where I can't reach it. So I'm guessing he'll have our usual delicious food up there and then he'll be eating my duck flavored food down here, too. Harrumph.

I'm excited to be able to eat and eat and eat and not get called a fattie for it!

Thank you for your continued prayers and support and good wishes! We love you all!

Luv,

Piggers

P.S. Hi. This is Grover. I will still call Piggy a fattie. Because he is. And I hope he stays that way.

P.P.S. Shhh...please don't tell Piggy, but I am worried about him. I hope the vets all know what they are doing. Mom has confidence they do...but I don't. :(

Waiting, Waiting, Waiting

Hi:

It's Piggy. Listen, we can't sleep. All of us are up at 3:57 a.m. We're going to try and get some sleep now but we are anxious to hear from the vet's office tomorrow, well, later today I guess, to tell us what the blood work says and to find out if my bone marrow has stopped putting out the crazy things it's putting out.

Mostly, we just want to know what is happening to me.

Mom says she finds it VERY hard to accept anything is wrong with me because I am acting so normal. If I didn't have the vagal vasal episode I would not have even gone to the vet. The vet said he understands why she thinks I'm not really sick, but that sometimes cats don't act sick when they are sick...and the blood tests, and my big lymph nodes and my weight loss indicate that something is happening so that is why we keep trying to find out.

Well, mom says harrumph and I do, too, and so does Grover because he was sleeping nicely and we woke him up to have a cuddle-fest but he didn't want me to be part of it because he says I still smell funny.

And now we are all going to go back to bed and try to sleep a little, because mom has to get up for work in two hours. Hopefully, later, we'll have some answers. I'll let you know.

Thank you, again, for all your good wishes and emails and love. We appreciate it!

Luv,

Piggy

P.S. Grover said to tell you he hopes your moms are not reading this right now at 4 a.m. or else it means they can't sleep either. He said to tell them to have some Sleepy Time Extra tea and try to sleep again. That's what our mom just did.

Thank you, everyone!

Hi:

It's Pig and I want to give you an update.

First of all, we are so touched from your emails and comments and all the good wishes and information. It means so much to us! Thank you from the bottom of our hearts!

We still do not know what (if anything) is wrong with me, but after nearly being starved to death, the ultrasound, thank goodness, showed nothing amiss!

Well, it did show one embarrassing thing that I cannot believe they even spoke about in front of me. They said I had solid poop in my colon, which was good news because I've had nothing but loose poops for over a month. The vet thought maybe the change of food is working on the diarrhea, which is still (besides the blood results and enlarged lymph nodes) my only symptom.

However, the vet said I have one more symptom...I have lost another 7 ounces since my 10:30 a.m. vet appointment on Saturday (2 days ago). And at that appointment I had already lost 8 ounces since my appointment just a week before that.

So, after another pow-wow with other vets, they forced me to have yet another blood test to see if things are going back to normal or getting worse.

Starve me, insult me by making my mom sign a piece of paper indicating I will be shaved for the ultrasound (as if!), push some weird thing against my belly and peek at my insides, talk about my poop in front of me AND stick another needle in me? Harrumph.

This time, I did my requisite screaming and fussing, but not so strongly as before because. obviously, my ruckus-making is not stopping them from doing what they want to do to me. No bother, I am saving my energy for when I really need to kick butt.

So, I don't know what else to say except we are all so grateful for your thoughts and prayers and we hope tomorrow brings some news that helps put an end to this nonsensical nonsense.

And now I am going to take a nap in my cat carrier. My blue plaid blanket is in there and it's very comfy. I figure since I'm always in there lately anyway, I might as well be all ready for the next trip to the vet.

Luv,

Piggy

P.S. Oh! One good thing - the vet said that since I am losing weight, even though I'm still big-boned (ahem), I can have as much food as I want now! I couldn't believe my ears (and believe me, my ears are BIG)! Yes! I can eat everything I want! Wahoo! This is better than winning the lottery! This is better than Grover deciding to move in with someone else's family! This is really good!

P.P.S. Shhh...I don't really want Grover to move, but I do want him to stop hissing at me. He's been very nasty to me since I got home from the vet's today.

P.P.P.S. Do I smell?

P.P.P.P.S. This is Grover. Yes, Piggy, you smell.

Monday

Shhh....it's Pig.

Please. I beg of you. SEND FOOD! I have had nothing to eat since last night. I have been scratching at the cat food bag all morning and my mom keeps talking to me in a sweet voice, "No, Pig. I'm sorry, Pig. You'll have lots of food and treats after the test." Blah blah blah. No food? Is she kidding me? I didn't really think she'd go through with this!

I kept getting out of bed last night to see if there was any food there. There was not.

So, please send food! I'm going to take money out of her wallet and I will pay you!

Sent it to:

Piggy's House (Oh, shut UP, Grover! It is NOT Grover's House!)
New York City

Hurry! And tell the delivery man not to ring the buzzer - we'll come down and let you in!

Love,

Piggy

P.S. Grover said to tell you that he wants to go to the vet with me this morning but mom told him he had to stay home.

P.P.S. We are both pissed at the mom today. Harrumph.

Saturday

Hi:

It's Piggy.

Today at the vet we found out I have lost a 1/2 pound in one week. Normally, this would be a good thing - well, my mom and the vet would think it was a good thing if I lost some weight as they think I'm a fattie. Oh, Grover just said to tell you he thinks I'm a fattie, too.

Anyway, so normally everyone would be pleased about this weight loss but no one is. No one is pleased, either, that my lymph nodes are all gigantor and that the ones behind my legs which were fine a week ago are not fine now. Harrumph.

All this means that after midnight on Sunday I am not allowed to eat anything! Yup. Mom will drop me off at the vet for an ultrasound test on Monday at 8am and I have no idea how I will stand not eating for all those hours! That's a whole 8 hours with no food! I will starve! My stomach will growl and so will I! How could anyone survive without food for 8 whole hours?

Oh my gosh, it will be longer than 8 hours! It's just 8 hours from when my mom takes away my food bowl to when we arrive at the vet. How long will I be without food altogether? 9 hours? 10? Twenty?

That vet better give me some chow the moment he's done with that test. He just better.

Double harrumph.

Love,

Piggy

Am I Sick?

Hi:

It's Piggy.

Listen, my mom had a consult today with my vet and the Cornell Veterinary School's diagnostic department about me and they are thinking I may have GI Lymphoma.

See, I'm not sick though. I feel totally fine! I eat, I sleep, I beat up Grover, I play with my toys, I try to beat up Grover again, I sleep, I eat, I purr, I eat. Rinse, repeat.

We also found out they are quite certain it was not a seizure I had in December afterall, but only a vagal episode. Whew. The 'seizure' is the reason mom took me to the vet in the first place and we surprisingly found out my blood tests were very wonky. Then I had to take antibiotics for 2 weeks (I love my Pill Pockets!), but my follow-up blood tests are even more wonky than the first and are indicating that whatever is wrong with me is escalating at a rapid pace.

My mom is confused on what to do as one vet wanted to open my belly up and do biopsies right away but the other vet wants to take a less-invasive route and do an ultrasound on Monday on the slim chance this is all something else and they won't have to open me up after all. But the thing is, the only way to know if what I have is cancer is to open me up. So mom is wondering why bother with the ultrasound if they are STILL going to have to open me up?

I do not know how they will open me up, as I have checked myself all over (Grover helped) and we cannot find a zipper or anything else that would allow ease of opening me.

Anyway, mom is going to the vet with me tomorrow morning to discuss all of this and so he can feel my lymphnodes again to see if they are still big. I do not like the vet after last Saturday because he went up my butt and took poop out and I was not at all pleased to have been violated like that. And it hurt when they took blood last weekend, too, and I screamed so loud my mom almost grabbed me off the table and ran back home with me. But we do love our vet (well, I don't!) so we stayed and let him do what he had to do. Harrumph.

Anyway, so that's what's going on here. If anyone has any advice, please email us. And can someone tell me where my zipper is?

Thank you!

Love,

Piggy (and Grover, and our mom)

What Would Make Me Very Happy

Hi.

This is Grover and I just want you to know that if my mom wore one of those baby slings and carried me around in it all day, I would really love it and be very happy.

Thanks.

Love,

Grover

P.S. My father said that if my mom wore one of those baby slings and carried me around in it all day, he would call a therapist.

P.P.S. Harrumph.

What's For Dinner? Not Me, I Hope!

Hi:

It's Piggy.

Listen, the truth is, I did not have a seizure because I cooked my brain by getting as close as possible to the radiator for as long as possible.

It's just not true, but Grover is trying to convince me there is a potato and mushroom gratin inside my head and it is just about ready to eat.

Harrumph.

Love,

Piggy

P.S. Really, I can't have cooked my own brain into potatoes and mushrooms, right?

P.P.S. Now I'm worried.

P.P.P.S. GROVER!!!!!!

Why I Get Up In The Night

Hi:

It's Piggy.

Today I want to tell you why I get up in the middle of the night so much.

I sleep under the covers pressed against my mom as tight as I can get and then I extend one paw to rest onto whichever body part of hers I'm laying against. It's very snug and warm and I like it a lot and I feel it is my mom's duty to allow me to sleep the way I feel most comfortable.

Periodically I get up and get a drink of water and then police the apartment checking for intruders like mice (haven't seen one here yet), or spiders (haven't seen one here yet), or Q-tips (lots of those!). I also do all the things I'm not allowed to do when my mom is watching - chew on wires, play tap-it with curtain pulls, lick the tiles in the bathroom, knock things off tables and counters. It's fun.

So, it's a combination of reasons that I get up so much and in the process wake up my mom and wake up Grover, too, who thinks he's so precious the way he sleeps next to mom's head with either his head on her pillow (his best imitation of a human) or all curled in a circle on his own pillow (can you believe the creepy little thing has his own pillow?!).

And every time I get back into bed, I get up on my father's side (and it takes me about 3 jumps to get up, thereby giving my father enough warning that I may possibly be landing all 21 pounds of myself on his face) and then, if my aim is good, I jump across his head and land on Grover and then Grover hisses and sometimes jumps crazily off the bed and then my mother lifts up her side of the covers and says, "Come on, Pig. Get under," and I do, even though some times she has the nerve to say it in a stern voice.

And then I wiggle myself into perfect position, reach my paw across my mom and express my bliss by purring for twenty minutes, causing my father to say to my mom, "OK, you complain about my snoring but Piggy's louder than I am and he sounds like a lawn mower and you think it's cute!"

I would have to agree. I am incredibly cute.

And loud.

Luv,

Piggy

P.S. Grover said to tell you that he has heard my mom say that even though she loves me, I can be very annoying at night. He's such a liar.

P.P.S. Grover said to tell you that he is not a liar.

We Are So Saddened

Me, looking particularly handsome.

Hi.

It's Grover, the cuter, smarter and more charismatic cat in the house (and the boss of all cats in the house, which means I am the boss of Piggy).

Piggy and I were catching up a wee bit on all our long lost cat blogging friends and we (and our mom) were so saddened to read how many of our friends have crossed The Rainbow Bridge.

We are so very sorry for the loss of all the amazingly beautiful, funny, sweet, loving and character-ful friends.

Sigh...

One thing we can say is that we are certain our own cats who have passed on, Spooky, Jade and Cheshire Cat, were all waiting at the gate and very excited for new playmates. Just watch out for Cheshire Cat! He could be really mean and that is why I called him Grumpus. But sometimes he let me snuggle up to him and that is what I focus on - the good stuff.

I never met Spooky or Jade, but I know that Jade's unfortunate passing (the vet prescribed him Valium - he had a heart murmur and mom was moving and the vet wanted him to remain calm...so mom gave Jade the Valium and not very long thereafter he died a very unpleasant death. Mom will never forgive herself for following vet's orders, which is why she is so wary of vets now - even though she loves our new vet.) had a silver lining. I never would be here living with my mom if Jade wouldn't have been called to the new stage of his being.

And so, today, along with much love to all of you and your families and all of your dear departed, I want to thank Jade for allowing me to live with my mom. And I guess I'll thank him for allowing me to live with Piggy, too, even though Piggy wasn't here then and even though I fully blame my mother for bringing that bald, fat, potato-and-mushroom smelling creature into our home.

With our deepest love and sympathy, and with joy in my heart because I just know that all our departed babies are up there romping about with no pain and no worries anymore. They are watching us, too. And purring at the memories and knowing someday we'll all be living in the same place.

Amen.

Love,

Grover

P.S. Shhhh...I really do love Piggy. Just don't tell him.

Happy New Year!

Mea culpa.

We don't know what that means, but we think it has something to do with our mom being a stinker and choosing all her other activities over updating our blog. Double harrumph.

I, Pig, had a seizure a month ago and my mom thought I was dead. Long story short, we don't yet know what is wrong with me (they think it's something intestinal/colon-related but it could just be some random weirdness - my white blood cell count is through the roof). I've yet to have another seizure and, let me tell you, my mom is thrilled about that, because she said the first one nearly killed her.

The vet told her it did not bother me at all. I, apparently, didn't even know it was happening. He told her that I can't swallow my tongue during a seizure either. The only part I recall is getting up after, walking slowly to the litter box, having diarrhea (which has not stopped, by the way) and then sitting for a while before devouring an entire bowl of food as if I'd been passed out as long as Rip Van Winkle and missed all those meals.

So, that was exciting.

Just as a point of information, if you ever have a seizure, your mom is going to love the hell out of you even more than she already did, if that is possible.

Let's just say I get away with a lot of crap I would not have gotten away with before I pulled my little stunt. Had I know this was the case, I'd have had a seizure a long time ago!

Grover wants to have a seizure now, too. He's such a copy-cat.

XO

Piggy

P.S. Grover said to say he wrote this, too, but all he did was try to squirm away as I've been sitting on his stomach the whole time I typed this. He is still squirming so I'm going to let him up before I get in trouble, because I don't think even a seizure would save me from getting into trouble for this one!

Good lord!

Sigh...

We've been gone a long time and we owe you emails and memes and all sorts of other things and all we can say right now is we are very sorry - our mom has been hogging all the PC time working on her book, as if that is more important than what WE are doing? I mean, really.

There is so much to tell you.

For one, Grover let me snuggle him one day last week. Well, he laid on my head and fell asleep and I didn't move because it was so nice.

And I lost some weight, which doesn't thrill me, but thrills my mom and the vet. This seems to be because I've been playing a lot with my KittyTease, which I love, adore and assorted other endearments. It's fun!

What else?

Oh! I almost forgot to tell you the most important thing!

I got outside! Mom left the door open while she was bringing in groceries and I walked out. Concrete is cold on my feet, but I came down the stairs anyway.

I got yelled at when mom saw me...she was scared and mad, mostly at herself because I have learned how to turn doorknobs and she hadn't realized that...now she does. She was especially upset at me for trying to go for a walk because our friend's sweet Italian Greyhound named Walter broke free from his leash and hasn't been seen since. It's very sad...

So, on that sad note, we will be back soon and catch up with ya'll. Please forgive us for our absence.

And, please stay in the house so you don't get lost, like poor Walter. Sniff. It's no fun to get yelled at, but I did get big, giant hugs so maybe getting yelled at was worth it. Not sure...


Here is a picture of Siri laughing at me when I got yelled at. Harrumph.



XO

Piggy

P.S. Grover says hi. He also says Harrumph because I didn't let him type today.

P.P.S. Hee.

Brotherly Love

Hi.

It's Grover.

Listen, I love my little brother, Pig. I do.

Even though he always bothers me and tries to pounce on me the moment I step from the litter box.

Even though he's GIANT and smells like mushrooms and potatoes.

Even though he likes to annoy me so much I have to leave the room and then he curls up in my warm spot.

Even though I still don't think he's really a cat.

Even though he never leaves the litter box without a dirty butt and mom always has to wipe him down with baby-wipes.

Even though he likes to climb into plastic bags and sleep.

Even though he licks everything and makes it soggy.

Even though he likes to play Big Pink Vampire and tries to bite my neck.

Even though one time mom was cleaning gunk out of his eyes and he licked it off the tissue and ate it before mom could stop him, and mom and I nearly threw up.

Even though he copies every thing I do and then pretends it's me who is copying him.

Even though he makes a lot of noise when he runs.

Even though he writes lies about me here for everyone to see.

Even though he has no whiskers except for one teeny tiny little thing I think might just perhaps be a whisker. Sort of.

Even though he has to take baths.

And, most importantly, even though I was so happy being an only-child before his bald, weird, stupid ass entered into the picture.

So, like I was saying, I do love my little brother, Pig.

Even when he yawns while the sun is blazing through his ears and he looks like this.


Even though it's very hard to love something that looks like that, I still do.

Love,

Grover

Go Away, Flu

It's a very good thing cats can't get the flu because our mom has been sick in bed for 11 days. I swear I heard her pray for death. That was a few days ago though, and I think she's feeling a bit better now.

Grover has been sleeping with her all day and night but I only pop in for visits a few times a day and then go sleep on the bed in the studio. She moves around too much, coughing and trying to get comfortable, then sitting up for sips of water and blowing her nose and more coughing and even moaning! Can you say DRAMA QUEEN? I'm sorry, I love my mom but I really don't like to be bothered that much when I'm trying to sleep and she makes it very hard to get comfortable against her belly if she keeps tossing about.

This morning she actually got out of bed, came to say hi to me and kiss me on my most kissable parts and then went to make herself some tea. I think this means she's getting better. I hope so. I miss sleeping against her belly but gosh, she's just too annoying right now for me to deal with.

Grover is such a little butt kisser, all snuggled up against her for 11 days, even though she's very annoying when she's sick.

Oh, I forgot to tell you that every day, along with visiting my mom in bed, I visit her when she takes a bath. I stand on the edge of the tub and lean over and lick water from her knees. She thinks this is very cute, and it is. But then, of course, Grover has to try it. He said I got it from him since he has always drunk mom's bath water, but I think he's the copy cat, not me.

Harrumph.

Separate But Equal

The motto in our house is "Separate But Equal" and in this case it means that the canine lives in the front three rooms and the felines live in the back three rooms, but we are all loved equally.

We didn't always have to live separately, but then The Incident Of Which We Shall Not Speak occurred and mom and dad decided it was not safe to keep us together.

Grover and I like to think of it as Siri being banished because he's a big stupid dog with big stupid teeth, but when no one is home, we sit on one side of the door that divides our space from his space and he sits on his side and tells us that we are the ones being banished, not him. And he tells us that we better not try to touch his food again. And he tells us that if we try to sneak into his space he will eat us.

OK, he doesn't say these things to Grover. He LIKES Grover. He doesn't like me. I don't like him either and that is why whenever I see him I try to attack him. And that is why he's banished. But he insists WE are banished.

Sometimes we believe him. Like the past two nights. Because he got to sleep in the bedroom with our parents and the bedroom is in OUR part of the apartment! We did NOT say he could go in there.

We slept outside the bedroom door all night and we could hear him in there snoring along with our dad and let me tell you, 'pissed off' does not even begin to express what Grover and I are feeling right now.

We are contemplating a proper punishment for not only our mom and dad, but for Siri, too.

I don't know who the heck he thinks he is, but if he sleeps in our bedroom again tonight, this means war!

This picture was taken way back before All Hell Broke Loose.

This gives you somewhat of a hint as to why The Incident of Which We Shall Not Speak occurred.

OK, one more hint, you didn't think a dog would tolerate getting hit in the face by a cat, would you?

OK, just one more hint...did you know that if a dog tries to bite you because you kept hitting him in the head and charging him and hissing at him, and your mom jumps between you and the dog, and she gets bit really hard and gets a bone infection that lasts for months it means the dog gets banished?

Well let this be a warning to all dogs. Do NOT mess with the cats. And do NOT bite the mom!

And stay out of our bedroom, too! This means YOU, Siri!

Frootbat Friday

Hi.

It's Grover.

Listen.

I've been invited to join Frootbat Friday so here is one of my favorite pictures of myself - me drinking my mom's bath water. This is why my mom can't use bubble bath anymore - it would make the water taste funny and we both know she only takes baths so that I can have a long, warm drink.

I prefer to drink from anything other than my water bowl.

I like to drink from the faucet, the toilet (this one always gets me in trouble but the water is so COLD!), any cup or glass of liquid I see lying about (mom usually leaves a glass full of water on the counter for me) and my favorite way to drink is to lick water off my mom's hands when she's washing dishes or brushing her teeth.

So, thanks for inviting me. I am honored to be a Frootbat (even though I never knew I was one before just now!).

Love,

Grover

P.S. Does Pig count as a Frootbat? I don't think so. We all know that bats have fur and Pig does not. I will be sure to tell him he can't join us.

--------------

Hi, it's Pig.

I am SO a Frootbat and here is a picture to prove it.

Just look at those EARS!

And, um, please don't stare at my bits. I was trying to cover them up with my tail. It didn't work.

Grover thinks he's so cute.

Last night he slept under the covers by mom's shoulder but his head stuck out and rested on the pillow like a person would sleep, and mom made a big fuss over how cute Grover looked, oh how sweet little Grover is, funny little Grover....blah blah blah blah!

Here, look at both of us.

Who's cuter?

It's ME, right?

RIGHT?!

Hi.

This is Grover.

Listen, I love peanut butter. My mom was just packing her lunch for work tomorrow and she made these things she calls "Ladybugs on a Log" that are really a combination of three of my favorite foods. Celery sticks (she peels them, we both hate the strings), stuffed with peanut butter and dotted with a few dried cranberries. If she uses raisins we call them "Ants on a Log".

I don't care what we call them, all I care about is whenever she makes some for herself she makes a teeny one for me, too.

I lick and lick the peanut butter and I chew and chew the cranberries and I lick the celery but don't chew it...it's the leaves I love the most! I could eat celery leaves three times a day if she'd give them to me. But she doesn't.

I like a lot of different kinds of people food and I've discovered that if I sit on the countertop when mom is making something and I put on my Especially-Cute-Face and gaze at her lovingly with my big green eyes, she'll usually give me a tiny taste. Oh, and sometimes I have to meow really loud to get her attention. This is how I discovered that I love cheese, meat, chicken, butter, yogurt, eggs, jicama, Pepperidge Farm Goldfish Crackers, cottage cheese, Asian Rice cracker snacks, tuna fish, Granny Smith apples...pretty much everything she lets me taste I like.

Pig is not as big a fan of people food as I am. You'd think he would be since he's such a fat Pig. He likes some things, but you'd think he loved to eat potatoes and mushrooms all the time since that is what he smells like. But he doesn't. I like to eat both of those. But I don't like that Pig smells like them, especially when he doesn't eat them. It's just too weird.

I've always been small and sinewy, and I've always eaten a lot. If I were human, I think I'd be a model, a super model. Not one of those Amazonian ones, more like a Kate Moss one. Minus the drug problem and skanky boyfriend.

I know I'm a boy, but we're talking hypothetical here so don't get all caught up in the details.

Anyway, the whole point of this is to tell you I like peanut butter. And celery. And cranberries.

Serious.

Love,

Grover

Grover and I love catnip, even though mom says it makes me a nasty drunk because sometimes I'll bite her after I play with it.

She has this big tub o' catnip that she hides in the kitchen cabinet above the sink and, of course we know it's there; we just haven't yet figured out how to knock it down so we can have as much as we want, whenever we want.

She's pretty fair about it though...she takes old socks and fills the toes with catnip and ties them up tight with the knot just to the top of the catnip and these things are FUN! One for me and one for Grover.

Grover likes to carry his up onto the counter and kick the crap out of it up there.

I prefer the floor for my own personal kick-the-shit-out-of-the-catnip-sock entertainment.

We both like to lick our catnip socks but Grover says I lick mine too much and it gets soggy and nasty and then Siri's fur sticks all over it. Why does that dog have so much FUR and why is he always leaving it everywhere!?

Mom thinks I'm the one that's a nasty drunk but it's really Grover! He thinks he's all tough after he plays with his sock and then he sneak attacks me and tries to pin me down. He says he's the big brother and I'm the little brother and I better start acting like it. He hits me hard with his back paws, but he only weighs 6 pounds and I weigh 23 pounds so he doesn't hurt me too much, usually, but sometimes he does. I never let him know he does though. No way. I don't care that he's five years older than me, I'm nearly 4 times his weight! That's right!

After we play we like to eat and then we drink water and then we nap.

Tell your mom to make you a catnip sock! It's fun! But keep your big brother away from the catnip.

Wahoo!

Guess what year it is?

That's right - the Year of the Pig!

It's all about me this year - all about the Pig.

Finally, I am getting the attention and respect I deserve.

It's about damned time.

Grover fell into the toilet today. I swear.

He flew out of there so fast that water splashed all over.

It was VERY funny...especially since I'm the only one who usually gets baths around here.

Snort!

Hi.

This is Grover.

Listen. I really like cheese. I mean, I REALLY like cheese.

And coffee. I like to lick the lid to the coffee can. It's very tasty.

I am not above sticking my head into a cup to see if there is coffee in there. If there is, I will drink some.

It's tasty.

Keeps me up at night, though.

I have to cut back.

Love,

Grover

I love to lick the catnip banana.

I lick it and lick it and lick it and it gets all wet and soggy.

Then I get really hungry and I go into the kitchen and eat and eat and eat.

Then I take a good long nap.

Then I go lick the catnip banana again.

I singed my tail on the stove.

I pretended it didn't hurt because mom is forever taking me off the stove and telling me NOT to go back up there.

I will not let her know it hurt when I accidentally stuck my tail in the fire under the pot of boiling water.

I will have NO reaction when she rubs balm into my tail to cool it off.

I will NOT let her think she was right about this.

Screw her.

P.S. Ouch.

I have been especially loving and snuggly with my mom this week.

I keep jumping in her lap, putting my paws over her shoulder and rubbing my face against hers.

At night I sleep curled against her belly under the covers.

When she's in the shower, I peek around the curtain and gaze at her adoringly and meow a lot.

I am being particularly attentive.

Probably because I have done something very bad that she has yet to discover and I'm trying to soften her up...

Something is going on.

There is a big crate in my living room.

It smells like...well, I don't know what it smells like, but the scent has been referred to as "Siri" by my mom.

I do so hope this Siri thing is not going to inhabit the crate.

If I had hair it would be standing up right now!

I love to lick butter. Grover does, too.

It is a very tasty treat.

Not quite as tasty as licking mom's plate of brisket when she's not paying attention, but rather quite luscious all the same.

Hi:

It's Grover.

Listen, if you sniff a piece of cotton, sometimes it sticks to your nose and you can't get it off and you run around shaking your head like crazy and you bump into a wall and fall and then you bite and scratch your mom when she tries to hold you still to pull the piece of cotton off your nose and then you run away and you are breathing so heavy now you almost inhale the piece of cotton and you start snorting and finally your mom grabs you and pulls the cotton off your nose and puts you back on the floor.

I'm just sayin'.

Love,

Grover

Hi.

It's Grover.

Listen, I am not the one who made the pillow cases all dirty and smudgy.

That was Piggy.

He does not know how to leave the litterbox with a clean butt.

I do.

Piggy = Dirty Butt.

Grover = Clean Butt.

It was NOT me who dirtied the bed!

Serious.

Love,

Grover

I like to sit on the stove, especially when something is cooking and it's all warm and cozy and what not.

I particularly like it when the tea pot is full of water that is boiling and steam is pouring out the spout. I put my face right there with my chin high in the air and I just LOVE it!

I do not understand why my mom makes me stop. I haven't gotten burned yet, but she keeps saying I will if I don't cut it out.

She has NO idea what she's talking about or how good it feels to have steam on my face or how mad I get when she makes me stop!

Harrumph.

Yo, mom!

It's insulting to say as you clean our litterbox, "Ewwww! What the fuck have you cats been eating??????"

Thank you.

Week in review thus far.

One little black pottery bowl from Istanbul. Broken.

One little cream colored handmade bowl from a potter in New Jersey. Broken.

One white coffee cup. Broken.

I'd say it's been a pretty productive week and it's only Thursday.

The best time to express your love is at 3:00 in the morning.

And, the best way to express your love is by purring.

LOUDLY.

At 3:00 in the morning, the house is very quite so your purrs sound extra loud, even though they already sound like an idling Mac truck to start with.

Make sure you also pat your mom on her face with your paws every three minutes or so, just when you think she's fallen back to sleep.

Alternate that with licks on her eyelashes.

Ignore her when she says, "Piggy! Go to sleep!" and tries to hold you close.

Do not be fooled by her affection. She is just trying to contain your exuberance.

Keep purring and patting and licking her.

She will appreciate being shown just how very much you adore her.

Serious.

Mom wanted to know why I kept sticking my paw under the front door.

So, she opened the door to see what was out there and I dove out so freaking fast she didn't even have time to stop me.

The reason I've been sticking my paw under the door is there is a GIRL CAT out there and she's been tormenting me for DAYS!

I jumped on her, hard, all 23 pounds of me - and I started to pummel her and mom screamed at me and had to pull me off.

Then I got yelled at and tossed back into the house while mom went to make sure the girl cat was OK.

Mom said, "How can a cat with no fur who couldn't even survive outside and loves to snuggle be so freaking mean?"

I'm not mean. I'm just territorial.

Very.

And if that girl cat knows what is good for her, she won't be coming 'round my door no more.

Because I will kick her ass again.

Serious.

I haven't been here in a month.

I've been very busy.

I had toys to play with, food to eat, a litter box to dirty.

I had bugs to kills, Grover to beat up and cheese to sneak off my mom's plate.

I had dirty paw prints to leave all over the bathroom, a bottle of cranberry juice to break and spill all over the floor and a plastic bag to get tangled up in.

I had a beaded earring to steal (hee hee, no one has found it yet!) and a sweater to shred and a lightbulb to break.

I had to get used to sleeping under the covers again (it's COLD!).

I also had to get used to something new - I got some hair! Well, not hair really, more like little tiny stubbly bits. I know, I know, how scary. Don't worry, they'll fall out soon.

So, you see, I've been very busy.

But now I'm back.

Hi.