Breakfast from hell

Today I had toast for breakfast. Sounds simple, right? Hardly. I put two slices of sourdough bread in the toaster and was peering through the fridge deciding what to put on the toast. I heard Gunnar pawing around in Katie's litterbox. This is bad because she hates him using her litterbox. And this will usually result in an accident for me to clean up. So I went to check on the cat. And....he had just peed all over the litter catcher that's outside her litterbox. Gross. So instead of waiting on my warm toast I had to clean up cat pee and litter. Ugh.

I cleaned the ramp off, washed my hands thoroughly and made my toast. I put the plate down on the table and I swear Gunnar tried to flop on it. I shooed him away since I didn't really want cat fur in my jam. But he kept persisting. I sat next to me and kept batting at my toast. He was relentless and wouldn't let me eat.

"No cat, you don't want to dip your paw in jam," I yelled exasperated at him. "You'd get sticky, have to clean yourself and would cry for at last 20 minutes."

Finally he flopped down on a few feet away and stopped trying.

Invited to dinner?

So this is just Gunnar being weird. He was hiding out on one of the tables at the dining room table. He likes to scratch the chairs (stinker!). But here, I pull the chair out and he still stays there as if to say "I didn't do it." Anyway, this is a favorite kitty hiding place. So if you ever go out pull out a chair and its heavier than it should be, you might be disrupting a cat nap.

His Excellency: Sir Gunnar of Wiltshire

Gunnar, looking rather regal with his shoelace.

Shoelace started out as Katie's favorite toy. Forget crinkly frogs or squeaky mice, nothing we bough was as much fun as a pair of shoelaces (that came extra on some Skechers that wore out years ago.)

Gunnar adopted it as his favorite toy too. And now they're both extremely possessive.  They take it with with them. I find it upstairs, downstairs, draped through the baby gates. And wrapped around his paw, Gunnar is clearly staking his claim to that ratty shoelace.

Lots-O-Fur

I love any picture that has ALL of my pets in it. It's hard to get them in the same place and harder  to get them all to hold still long enough to get a shot. The best time for me to get them all together is when they're...(guess!) sleeping in the bed. Then, they're all still. Though Katie usually gets annoyed and runs off after one frame. Mojo thinks he needs to sit up when he hears the shutter and Gunnar, upon being woken up, decides he has better things to do. But they all like the bed. And they're most likely to all be in the bed, either in the morning after I'd gotten up and Matt's still in the bed or this picture was taken when I was up too late on a Saturday night. I was sitting on the floor watching DVR'd So You Think You Can Dance and they were all passed out. Mojo is a stickler for bedtimes. And like a child, if we keep him up too late, he lets us know. The cats just like to sleep in the bed.

And no they don't all sleep in the bed at night. They wouldn't all fit, though they try. Mojo tries to sleep at the foot of the bed (though I'm adamant that he no)  and some mornings I wake up and Katie is sleeping in between Matt and me. Gunnar usually chills in the kitty condo.

Mad Ninja Skills

 Gunnar has mad ninja skills. This isn't the best video, but I have no idea what he's doing. It's like a sideways flip across the floor. 

Green-eyed monster

Gunnar is my little green-eyed monster. Don't get me wrong, he's utterly adorable, but he's also so jealous. If Katie finds a soft spot to lie down in, he wants to run her off. If she's playing, he has to play bigger. If she's getting attention, he wants more. This picture is after he claimed the spot she'd been napping in for awhile.

Happy Father's Day

The kids would like to wish a Happy Father's Day to Matt. They sure think he's the best dad ever. He takes Mojo on walks and to the park. He's an excellent pillow for the cats and Mojo thinks his lap is the best spot in the house.

Editing help

Gunnar is an extremely helpful cat. This video shows him helping me edit. He's especially handy with a red pen.

A Morning with Gunnar

It's not even 8:30 and so far this morning Gunnar has:

1) Decided that the power cord for my Mac laptop is the best toy ever. No. Please don't bite it. 

2) Tried (once again) to eat the dog's food.

3) Broken his litterbox.

4) Pooped in front of me.

5) Birdwatched at the front door.

If nothing else, he is certainly keeps things interesting.

Katie Sunbathing

I caught Katie sunbathing the other day. As you can see, she really likes to be comfortable, so she's sleeping in the bed. (The other day, I caught her sleeping like a queen on my pillow). I liked the pretty window light in this photo and the pink background really makes her green eyes pop.

Smiling Practice

Mojo has the most infectious smile, which I think is an accomplishment for a dog. He's just smiling in this video. Smiling, smiling smiling. If this doesn't instantly cheer you up, I don't know what will.

Waiting for a call?

If you need to get in touch with me, my assistant will be taking my calls.

My cats have habit of plopping down near my cellphone. Perhaps they know I'll reach for it, and are hoping for cuddles of an affectionate scratch behind the ears. Here Gunnar is sitting next to my phone looking like he's waiting on a very important call. Katie does it too. Last night she flopped down on my phone. Maybe it's the same principle as reading material—because whatever book or magazine I'm reading, they have to flop down on it. Oh, kitties.

Dog Park Sunday

We spent another Sunday morning at  the dog park. Only four dogs this time...and a lot of lounging.

Matt wrangles Phoebe and Billie Holiday while Emily has Mojo and Cody.

Mojo played with Phoebe a lot on this outing.

Phoebe loves attention. Billie Holliday likes naps.

Mojo being silly.

Mojo at full sprint. 

Matt tells Mojo to sit. Billie Holliday ignores the command.

Billie lounging.

Billie rolling around.

Lots of lounging.

Mojo gives Cody a kiss while Phoebe vies for attention.

Cody...and my blue toenails. 

Candid portrait of Cody.

Cody and Billie look pretty happy.

My favorite part of this picture is the shirts these two cops are wearing: a zombie apocalypse shirt and a Harley shirt.

In loving memory...

Getting whacked by Baby and tiny lil Gunnar.

This morning a pit bull killed my sister's cat, Baby.

Baby was only two-years-old. He was a fluffy, stub-tailed Manx mix. He's Gunnar's brother. They were both born in the same doghouse at my sister's house. It's really sad that a cat died. 

And it's even for devastating that it was by a dog. Gunnar and Mojo are best friends. They play together, wrestle—would never purposely hurt each other. Yet at my sister's house this 100-pound pit bull somehow got into their yard (there are no holes in or under their six-foot fence) and killed this cat. And because of this, this dog will likely be put down. He's obviously a danger to other animals and there are a lot of children in their neighborhood. So two animals will lose their life in the end.

But Baby was a sweet cat. When I'd go over to my sister's house, he and his brother, Bear, were inseparable. They were always racing, wrestling, getting into trouble together. 

He was also my sister's cat. He LOVED my niece. If she was crying, he'd go and lie down next to her. She could flop down on him, tug his fur, practically strangle him and he'd take it. He'd snuggle with the family at night. All in all, he was a wonderful cat who will sorely be missed.

These are all the kitten's in Gunnar and Baby's litter.

Itty bitty Gunnar and Baby sleep in my sister's lap.

Kitten Kisses. I'm not sure if this is Baby or Bear.

Lexi snuggling with her favorite cat.

Disappearing Act

I went home for lunch and made myself a chicken sandwich. The patty is bigger than the bun so I cut the edges off and fed them to Mojo. That was my first mistake.

Mojo apparently liked it and stuck around to beg, which is pretty typical.

I ate half the sandwich and then went to the other room to check on something. I came back and Mojo was licking the carpet. I went over to see what he was doing, if he was eating his kibble over there or what. I didn't find anything suspicious, so I told him he was a silly dog and went back to my lunch.

Or what was left of it. On my plate was a hamburger bun and tomatoes. No chicken.

And suddenly, I knew why Mojo, looking very proud of himself, was licking the carpet and where my missing chicken patty had gone.

Mojo had reached up onto the bar-height table, and somehow managed to steal just the chicken.

He can reach the tabletop IF he really tries. But the plate wasn't at the edge, so I would have really liked to see him pull that off. He then brought the chicken to his treat spot on the carpet, which explains the licking I witness when I came back to the room less than 2 minutes later. How did he pull it off? Esepcially in that short of time?
Oh well. I guess I know better than to leave chicken unattended while a crafty hungry dog is lurking.

Mojo's Birthday Party: By the Numbers

Mojo wearing his party hat.

Number of dogs in attendance: 14

(Mojo, Toby, Knoxie, Schuai, Cody, Phoebe, Billie Holliday, Jpeg, Mango, Sadie, Barkley, Max, Sunny, Dolly)

Number of blonde dogs: 6

Number of black dogs: 4

Number of red dogs: 2

Number of white dogs: 1

Numbers of Mojos: 1 (He is black and tan. I don't know what color that counts as!)

Number of dogs Mojo hadn't met before: 6

Number of Paws: 56

Number of babies: 1

Number of people in attendance: 12

Occupations of 2-legged guests: Swat officer (2), diving coach, magazine editor, newspaper editor, photographer, college professor, administrative assistant, mom, university admissions specialist, etc.

People peed on: 1

Tennis balls found in the woods: 2

Number of water bowls: 1

Number of cow toes received as a birthday gift: 1

Number of toys played with: ~5 (orange ball, yellow toy, orange rope, stick found in the woods, baby,)

Number of sprints done by Toby: lost count

Number of broken up humping attempts: ~5

Number of fights: 0

Number Dog Park we reserved: 3

Number of Bday parties we've had for Mojo to date: 3

Mojo giving me the stink-eye for making him wear a party hat.

Mojo couldn't wait to go to the park.

Dogs at the party include (from left) Schaui, Knoxie, Mojo, Jpeg and Toby.

Mojo plays with Jpeg.

Mango (and his poof) was a very sweet party guest.

Pheoobe, Cody, Jpeg, Max and Billie Holiday play in the fenced off park.

Jpeg and Knoxie nose to nose.

Sadie says hi to Schaui and Luke.

Mojo did NOT eat the baby.

All but two of the dogs were bigger than Lexi.

Everyone was sad when it was time to leave.

The trio

This is my trio of furballs. I caught them all sleeping in the bed. Mojo isn't really supposed to be in the bed so he looks a little guilty. Gunnar has kitty version of red-eye and Katie is oblivious.  Yes, they cuddle.

Happy birthday Mojo

We've had you for almost three years. And it really does seem like so long ago that you were a four-pound little puppy who ate kibble out of our hands and occasionally chomped down WAY too hard. You whimpered in the bathroom and needed to go potty every three hours. You were the shy puppy in puppy pre school that hid under my chair and watched the other pups play. You looked like a fuzzy teddy bear.

But over the last three years you've grown into a 65-pound dog that couldn't fit under a chair if you tried. You're the life of the party and always lead playtime. You eat food out of your bowl. And you look like super friendly version of a German Shepherd.

I should tell you that our dad wanted to name you Torbin. (I might have been pulling for Rhett.) But you are a Mojo through and through. You're the happiest dog I know. You're always smiling and you have such a great smile. The other day I was driving home from work and I saw this really happy dog walking down the sidewalk. Then I realized it was your dad walking you. You're a fun-loving guy. You want to meet every dog you see and even the poorly behaved dogs don't get you down. You love them all. You love to sniff things. You love socks. You love climbing into laps. You love sleeping in the bed. You LOVE Gunnar the cat. You guys play so cute. I have to admit your bedtime bathing ritual melts my heart every single night.

And you are so unbelievably well-behaved. You wait for us while we are at work. You don't chew on the stray high heels I leave out. You don't eat the magazine on the floor and you are so well potty trained. And when we're home with you, all you want is to be with us. You do occasionally bark at nothing when you want some attention, but that's it.

You love barreling up or down the stairs. You love going to grandma and grandpa's house on the golf course and you love going to see your friends at the dog park.

You love Frosty Paws, and Lick and Crunch cookies. You want all the people food we eat in front of you. Of what we feed you, you love spinach, mashed potatoes, bacon, carrots and all meats really.

We're so happy we have you.