Today I had, not just one, but two people (one of which being my sister) request that I procreate soon, but I don't think the timing is quite right. Besides, I think Mike would frown upon my sudden discontinued use of birth control without telling him anything. These are generally topics couples choose to discuss together. Unless you're all sorts of crazy.
No, Lucy's brother needs to be a dog. A pug, more specifically. Because pugs are so ugly they're cute. And because, being rather inexperienced in the world of canines, this is one of the few breeds of which I approve.
And because Lucy told me it shall be so. She also told me we should name him Desi.
Get it?
Showing posts with label pet. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pet. Show all posts
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
lucy and her marukai shopping basket
My cat frequently partakes in some rather odd and/or pretty cute activities and I figured it was time to document them.
An Asian market plastic shopping basket? Possibly a little random to have one lying around the house, but we happened to end up coming home with one after helping a friend sort through the miscellaneous piles of crap he had acquired in the storage room of his recently closed bar. The bar had just happened to be located next to an Asian market. This basket was merely a means of transporting some of said miscellaneous crap (none of which we needed and most of which we have since thrown out) back to our apartment.
But the Marukai basket remains because Lucy loves the thing. She naps in it. She just sits in it, as is shown in the picture, as though it has magical powers that prevent us from seeing her. She tries to dig a hole to China in the bottom. She just loves the thing.
She has a history of sitting (or as she sees it, hiding) in various objects. Like the Modelo box that was sitting by the front door, waiting to be taken to the dumpster.
I had no idea she was even in there until I walked by and she popped her head out like a whack-a-mole.
Then there was the plastic trash bag that she somehow thought we couldn't see through. Needless to say, her sneak attack was not very sneaky.
Lucy also quacks. I'm not kidding. When she gets really excited, like when you're getting her food, she runs after you and meows these abbreviated meows that sound like quacks.
It's like having a cat and a duck in one.
An Asian market plastic shopping basket? Possibly a little random to have one lying around the house, but we happened to end up coming home with one after helping a friend sort through the miscellaneous piles of crap he had acquired in the storage room of his recently closed bar. The bar had just happened to be located next to an Asian market. This basket was merely a means of transporting some of said miscellaneous crap (none of which we needed and most of which we have since thrown out) back to our apartment.
But the Marukai basket remains because Lucy loves the thing. She naps in it. She just sits in it, as is shown in the picture, as though it has magical powers that prevent us from seeing her. She tries to dig a hole to China in the bottom. She just loves the thing.
She has a history of sitting (or as she sees it, hiding) in various objects. Like the Modelo box that was sitting by the front door, waiting to be taken to the dumpster.
I had no idea she was even in there until I walked by and she popped her head out like a whack-a-mole.
Then there was the plastic trash bag that she somehow thought we couldn't see through. Needless to say, her sneak attack was not very sneaky.
Lucy also quacks. I'm not kidding. When she gets really excited, like when you're getting her food, she runs after you and meows these abbreviated meows that sound like quacks.
It's like having a cat and a duck in one.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
lucy
Meet my cat. Lucy. The first pet I've had on my own.
She'll be 2 years old this summer. Although she still has kittenish moments, she has matured since I got her in August. She's also grown from petite kitten to fatty mcfatterson, but now she's just comfortably chubby. I had to adjust her eating regime in order not to induce a premature heart attack. She's just as content in her plain old chubby state.
She has a foot fetish. This ranges from her attacking your feet during the middle of the night to her licking/biting them during your nightly TV rituals. Sometimes she just likes to sit next to your feet. She just likes feet. I don't ask questions.
She likes bleach. I've grown up owning cats and this was a new one for even me, but apparently a lot of cats are attracted to the ammonia as if it were catnip (which, by the way, she couldn't care less about). If I am cleaning the kitchen or bathroom I have to keep an eye on her. She'll come snooping around. Once I deter her, she'll proceed to roll around the floor in pure pleasure like a shameless hussy. Whore.
She's a piggy. I love her for it. Her favorite is beef in gravy. Or anything in gravy, for that matter.
She is not declawed, which is a new one for me. I have perfected the art of cutting her nails. I like to look at it as a bonding experience. She's definitely more trusting than when I first attempted. We have a cheap armchair (bought it off a friend for $25) that holds our mail and miscellaneous crap. She has clawed it to shreds, but the rest of the furniture has been saved, for the most part. A little squirt from the spray bottle deters her from the rest.
She likes open windows and cool tile, pony tails and twist ties.
She's also racist. She has had a minor peeing problem in the past (*crosses fingers*), but this only pertained to black items (i.e. black laptop bag, black duffel bag, black backpack, black t-shirt). I'm hoping it was only due to her nerves after the move from the humane society to the apartment, a whopping two miles, but I immediately noticed her discretion when it came to my more racially diverse belongings. Perhaps I shall have to educate her on the finer points of acceptance and civil rights?
She'll be 2 years old this summer. Although she still has kittenish moments, she has matured since I got her in August. She's also grown from petite kitten to fatty mcfatterson, but now she's just comfortably chubby. I had to adjust her eating regime in order not to induce a premature heart attack. She's just as content in her plain old chubby state.
She has a foot fetish. This ranges from her attacking your feet during the middle of the night to her licking/biting them during your nightly TV rituals. Sometimes she just likes to sit next to your feet. She just likes feet. I don't ask questions.
She likes bleach. I've grown up owning cats and this was a new one for even me, but apparently a lot of cats are attracted to the ammonia as if it were catnip (which, by the way, she couldn't care less about). If I am cleaning the kitchen or bathroom I have to keep an eye on her. She'll come snooping around. Once I deter her, she'll proceed to roll around the floor in pure pleasure like a shameless hussy. Whore.
She's a piggy. I love her for it. Her favorite is beef in gravy. Or anything in gravy, for that matter.
She is not declawed, which is a new one for me. I have perfected the art of cutting her nails. I like to look at it as a bonding experience. She's definitely more trusting than when I first attempted. We have a cheap armchair (bought it off a friend for $25) that holds our mail and miscellaneous crap. She has clawed it to shreds, but the rest of the furniture has been saved, for the most part. A little squirt from the spray bottle deters her from the rest.
She likes open windows and cool tile, pony tails and twist ties.
She's also racist. She has had a minor peeing problem in the past (*crosses fingers*), but this only pertained to black items (i.e. black laptop bag, black duffel bag, black backpack, black t-shirt). I'm hoping it was only due to her nerves after the move from the humane society to the apartment, a whopping two miles, but I immediately noticed her discretion when it came to my more racially diverse belongings. Perhaps I shall have to educate her on the finer points of acceptance and civil rights?
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