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(no subject)
Mar. 16th, 2010 01:11 amThis is the scene in my basement.
"We few, we happy few, we band of vermin..."
This is our Stalwart Champion.
Sure, she looks sweet and fluffy. Sure, she only has one good eye. But let's not forget she also has... a sidekick!
... right, then. The battle is pretty much going exactly as you'd expect. Further info on the morrow, assuming I'm not on catch&release/stretcher duty while HT keeps staring into corners as if he has the faintest clue as to how to catch anything.
"We few, we happy few, we band of vermin..."
This is our Stalwart Champion.
Sure, she looks sweet and fluffy. Sure, she only has one good eye. But let's not forget she also has... a sidekick!
... right, then. The battle is pretty much going exactly as you'd expect. Further info on the morrow, assuming I'm not on catch&release/stretcher duty while HT keeps staring into corners as if he has the faintest clue as to how to catch anything.
(no subject)
Mar. 16th, 2010 01:11 amThis is the scene in my basement.
"We few, we happy few, we band of vermin..."
This is our Stalwart Champion.
Sure, she looks sweet and fluffy. Sure, she only has one good eye. But let's not forget she also has... a sidekick!
... right, then. The battle is pretty much going exactly as you'd expect. Further info on the morrow, assuming I'm not on catch&release/stretcher duty while HT keeps staring into corners as if he has the faintest clue as to how to catch anything.
"We few, we happy few, we band of vermin..."
This is our Stalwart Champion.
Sure, she looks sweet and fluffy. Sure, she only has one good eye. But let's not forget she also has... a sidekick!
... right, then. The battle is pretty much going exactly as you'd expect. Further info on the morrow, assuming I'm not on catch&release/stretcher duty while HT keeps staring into corners as if he has the faintest clue as to how to catch anything.
(no subject)
Jul. 26th, 2008 08:08 pmI've been devoting a lot of time - on this journal and in real life - to Handsome Tom. He's a snuggly ol' mush, to be sure, but he's also needed me. That doesn't mean my love for my other kitties has diminished. Oh, no. Not a whit. But Esme seems to be working extra cute into her daily routine, and after Tom's show of daring in yesterday's Stalking of the Bear, well...
The story begins this morning. I'd just returned from teaching a double at the gym. I was sweaty, I was weary, I was looking to relax. After saying hi to all of the indoor kitties (Esme was, predictably, sitting on the living room rug - the Play Zone - waiting for me to run a string or toss the toy lying at her feet) I went back out to check on HT. He came galloping out from under the deck and clambered onto my lap. Skritches were doled out, but as he snuggled on my lap I heard an odd mewing from inside. Now, Esme will let you know when she wants to play, but this sounded a bit off. I figured I'd better check.
When I went back inside, she was still sitting on the rug, her head tilted as she looked at me expectantly. "Fine, 'sme." I sighed. "I'll throw your mouse... ohmigodit'sreal."
Yep. Esme caught a mouse. Best I can tell she got it in the basement and brought it upstairs to her play area. After all, when she's sitting there we toss the toy mice for her. Surely this would be just as much fun. I saw no signs of blood or general mangling, so I scooped the mouse into a pint glass and took it outside. The moment I did so it scrambled at the sides of the glass. "I know, dude. I know." I took him to the shed, thinking he'd dart beneath the floor and be safe away... only HT came trotting up. "Not now, Handsome!" Ducking to the side of the shed, I all but chucked the mouse out of the glass, then turned to scoop HT into my arms and carry him back toward the house.
When I went back in, Esme was racing along the hallway, through the kitchen, and back into the living room. Her tail was puffed to full capacity, and her whiskers were perked forward. She was ever so excited. "Didja see, mom? Didja didja didja? *bounce*" Of course, there was nothing for it but to praise her and assure her that her capture of the mouse was every bit as mighty as Tom's bear-stalking.
And then there was nothing for it but to take some pictures. I'm still learning my way around my new camera and Esme is a very active kitty, so please forgive any blur or just plain bad photography.
( kitty!!! )
The story begins this morning. I'd just returned from teaching a double at the gym. I was sweaty, I was weary, I was looking to relax. After saying hi to all of the indoor kitties (Esme was, predictably, sitting on the living room rug - the Play Zone - waiting for me to run a string or toss the toy lying at her feet) I went back out to check on HT. He came galloping out from under the deck and clambered onto my lap. Skritches were doled out, but as he snuggled on my lap I heard an odd mewing from inside. Now, Esme will let you know when she wants to play, but this sounded a bit off. I figured I'd better check.
When I went back inside, she was still sitting on the rug, her head tilted as she looked at me expectantly. "Fine, 'sme." I sighed. "I'll throw your mouse... ohmigodit'sreal."
Yep. Esme caught a mouse. Best I can tell she got it in the basement and brought it upstairs to her play area. After all, when she's sitting there we toss the toy mice for her. Surely this would be just as much fun. I saw no signs of blood or general mangling, so I scooped the mouse into a pint glass and took it outside. The moment I did so it scrambled at the sides of the glass. "I know, dude. I know." I took him to the shed, thinking he'd dart beneath the floor and be safe away... only HT came trotting up. "Not now, Handsome!" Ducking to the side of the shed, I all but chucked the mouse out of the glass, then turned to scoop HT into my arms and carry him back toward the house.
When I went back in, Esme was racing along the hallway, through the kitchen, and back into the living room. Her tail was puffed to full capacity, and her whiskers were perked forward. She was ever so excited. "Didja see, mom? Didja didja didja? *bounce*" Of course, there was nothing for it but to praise her and assure her that her capture of the mouse was every bit as mighty as Tom's bear-stalking.
And then there was nothing for it but to take some pictures. I'm still learning my way around my new camera and Esme is a very active kitty, so please forgive any blur or just plain bad photography.
( kitty!!! )
(no subject)
Jul. 26th, 2008 08:08 pmI've been devoting a lot of time - on this journal and in real life - to Handsome Tom. He's a snuggly ol' mush, to be sure, but he's also needed me. That doesn't mean my love for my other kitties has diminished. Oh, no. Not a whit. But Esme seems to be working extra cute into her daily routine, and after Tom's show of daring in yesterday's Stalking of the Bear, well...
The story begins this morning. I'd just returned from teaching a double at the gym. I was sweaty, I was weary, I was looking to relax. After saying hi to all of the indoor kitties (Esme was, predictably, sitting on the living room rug - the Play Zone - waiting for me to run a string or toss the toy lying at her feet) I went back out to check on HT. He came galloping out from under the deck and clambered onto my lap. Skritches were doled out, but as he snuggled on my lap I heard an odd mewing from inside. Now, Esme will let you know when she wants to play, but this sounded a bit off. I figured I'd better check.
When I went back inside, she was still sitting on the rug, her head tilted as she looked at me expectantly. "Fine, 'sme." I sighed. "I'll throw your mouse... ohmigodit'sreal."
Yep. Esme caught a mouse. Best I can tell she got it in the basement and brought it upstairs to her play area. After all, when she's sitting there we toss the toy mice for her. Surely this would be just as much fun. I saw no signs of blood or general mangling, so I scooped the mouse into a pint glass and took it outside. The moment I did so it scrambled at the sides of the glass. "I know, dude. I know." I took him to the shed, thinking he'd dart beneath the floor and be safe away... only HT came trotting up. "Not now, Handsome!" Ducking to the side of the shed, I all but chucked the mouse out of the glass, then turned to scoop HT into my arms and carry him back toward the house.
When I went back in, Esme was racing along the hallway, through the kitchen, and back into the living room. Her tail was puffed to full capacity, and her whiskers were perked forward. She was ever so excited. "Didja see, mom? Didja didja didja? *bounce*" Of course, there was nothing for it but to praise her and assure her that her capture of the mouse was every bit as mighty as Tom's bear-stalking.
And then there was nothing for it but to take some pictures. I'm still learning my way around my new camera and Esme is a very active kitty, so please forgive any blur or just plain bad photography.
( kitty!!! )
The story begins this morning. I'd just returned from teaching a double at the gym. I was sweaty, I was weary, I was looking to relax. After saying hi to all of the indoor kitties (Esme was, predictably, sitting on the living room rug - the Play Zone - waiting for me to run a string or toss the toy lying at her feet) I went back out to check on HT. He came galloping out from under the deck and clambered onto my lap. Skritches were doled out, but as he snuggled on my lap I heard an odd mewing from inside. Now, Esme will let you know when she wants to play, but this sounded a bit off. I figured I'd better check.
When I went back inside, she was still sitting on the rug, her head tilted as she looked at me expectantly. "Fine, 'sme." I sighed. "I'll throw your mouse... ohmigodit'sreal."
Yep. Esme caught a mouse. Best I can tell she got it in the basement and brought it upstairs to her play area. After all, when she's sitting there we toss the toy mice for her. Surely this would be just as much fun. I saw no signs of blood or general mangling, so I scooped the mouse into a pint glass and took it outside. The moment I did so it scrambled at the sides of the glass. "I know, dude. I know." I took him to the shed, thinking he'd dart beneath the floor and be safe away... only HT came trotting up. "Not now, Handsome!" Ducking to the side of the shed, I all but chucked the mouse out of the glass, then turned to scoop HT into my arms and carry him back toward the house.
When I went back in, Esme was racing along the hallway, through the kitchen, and back into the living room. Her tail was puffed to full capacity, and her whiskers were perked forward. She was ever so excited. "Didja see, mom? Didja didja didja? *bounce*" Of course, there was nothing for it but to praise her and assure her that her capture of the mouse was every bit as mighty as Tom's bear-stalking.
And then there was nothing for it but to take some pictures. I'm still learning my way around my new camera and Esme is a very active kitty, so please forgive any blur or just plain bad photography.
( kitty!!! )
the great mouse escapade of aught-eight
Feb. 2nd, 2008 05:21 pmA couple of months past, we had a mousely visitor. I bought a pet safe sonic-mouse-scarer-thingy. It seemed to be keeping the mice away...
( ...until today )
( ...until today )
the great mouse escapade of aught-eight
Feb. 2nd, 2008 05:21 pmA couple of months past, we had a mousely visitor. I bought a pet safe sonic-mouse-scarer-thingy. It seemed to be keeping the mice away...
( ...until today )
( ...until today )
