That darn cat.

Oxford begs. I am not sure why this is. I lied. I know exactly why this is. I tend to see what people food he will eat. It's my own animal experiment. Sometimes, I am a horrible cat mom and feed him things that could be potentially toxic. (Ask me about the grapes. Sigh.)

Last night, we were enjoying taco night with some perfectly ripe avocados. My favorite part of taco night? Leftover avocado. I put it on my plate, sprinkle with a little bit of sea salt, and eat plain. Really, truly delish. If that's not your style, I highly suggest you make it so. It's great. So, I'm sitting there, enjoying the last slice of avocado when I see him staring at me, with those big fat cat eyes.

"HEY MOMZ. GIMME SOME OF THAT NOW."



I responded. "Cat, you do not like avocado, knock it off." But then I got to thinking...has he TRIED avocado? Perhaps not. Maybe he will like it. Let's try it.

I gave him a smidge on my finger. He licked it off as if it were ice cream (which is only his most favorite food after peanut butter). Of course. This weirdo of a cat LOVES avocado. Or the salt. I couldn't figure it out. P.I.C. and I had a chuckle at his weirdness and went on with our evening.

It then dawned on me...what if avocado is toxic to cats? OH NO. Of course, I go to google to diagnose. Turns out, it IS toxic to cats. Sigh. Worst cat mom ever. I only gave him a little bit, so I think he'll be okay. He didn't puke last night, so I think signs are good.

BUT. This morning, when P.I.C. woke me up, he told me that if Oxford hadn't puked from the avocado, he was sure to puke later. Apparently, a knot of hair that I had removed from his luxurious mane and forgotten to throw in the garbage (oops) was sitting on the coffee table. P.I.C. was sitting on the couch with his coffee when Oxford carefully climbed on the couch, leaned over to the coffee table and SNARFED up the hairball.

Gross. He will definitely vom that up later. But of course, no one TALKS about the toxicity of hairballs.

Oxford is such a treasure.

Oxford's rough weekend.

Sigh. So while P.I.C. and I were off sunning ourselves in the Virgin Islands, Oxford was at home. He's not much of a swimmer, and he absolutely HATES iguanas. He had to stay home, obviously.

When P.I.C. and I arrived home from the airport at midnight, Oxford seemed a bit off. At first, I thought he was just miffed at being alone, but then I realized he had a distinct odor...of poop. Further investigation led to the discovery that our little guy had not only pooed himself and gotten it stuck in his fur, it had really morphed into a bad situation. As in, I could see his little kitty business sans fur, bad situation.

To the ER vet we went, smelly cat in tow. (Seriously, what were we feeding him?) A shave of the butt, a dusting of Gold Bond, some pain meds, and antibiotics administered, and he was discharged. He has been steadily improving, is off the pain medication (thank goodness) and seems to be back to his usual lovable self. I'm so relieved.

I felt like a bad kitty mom, but during the follow up visit to our usual vet, he assured me that these things happened and that I could perhaps consider getting him sanitary trims. Sanitary trims = shaving of the butt hair. Really, it's like a cat Brazillian, which Oxford is sporting right now.

What can I say, he likes to live right on the edge.

Now, for your viewing pleasure, some photos from our most fabulous trip to St. Thomas.

Drinks out of monkeys? SIGN US UP.

A view of the Soggy Dollar Bar...we swam ashore...hence the name!

The view from our balcony. Not bad at all.

One of the cutie duck-like creatures that were on the beach. I named this one Frank.

Second floor on the end was the vacation home of the Awkward Family for the week. We were sad to say goodbye.

More Fun with Oxford.

Sometimes, I forget to feed Oxford before bed. No, I'm not a bad cat momma. He is a princess diva cat and prefers his food dish to be full. (He also doesn't care that he strews half of the contents of his bowl on the ground in the process.) Once you can see the bottom of the bowl, he'd prefer you to top that business off, thankyouverymuch. When I forget to top his bowl off, I am punished.

I will be sleeping in bed peacefully, trying like mad to not be exhausted for once, when I will hear him. Some random bag left laying in the closet or even my work bag will be attacked. Clawed. Licked. Any way he can make noise, he will be doing it. I have tried to just sit up and scold, "OXFORD" really loud. That works temporarily, but not for long. He'll be back to clawing and licking whatever item he's found in short order. The only way to stop this assault on a random thing is to get out of bed and put more food in his bowl.

Last night was another evening where I forgot to top the princess diva cat's bowl off. I was having a rather fitful night sleep (if Oxford could talk, he would say this was Karma for not filling his bowl, I'm sure), when I heard him. I couldn't even see what it was that was his noise-making companion when I dragged my barely-into-REM-sleep body out of bed. I opened his new bag of food and proceeded to freshen it up. Of course, by the time I had realized that (1) the old bag was empty and (2) I had to actually open the new bag, he'd climbed back into bed with P.I.C.

As soon as those fresh little kernels of compressed feline nutrition hit the bowl, I heard his little ten-pound body land on the ground and saw him hustle over to the bowl. At this point, I figured I'd use the bathroom and drink a glass of water. By the time I was sipping my water, a mere 90 seconds later, I saw him, sitting there staring at me, sitting outside the bedroom door.

I realized, he was waiting to give me my reward for feeding him. Sure enough, I finished my water and crawled back into bed. I didn't even need to call him when he was on the bed and all up in my business. Usually, he likes to lay on P.I.C. right when we go to bed. He gets all the snuggles. But when I get up in the middle of the night to feed Oxford, and P.I.C. sleeps away, things are different.

I rested my head on the pillow when I felt those ten pounds climb right on my stomach purring away. He put his face right up next to mine and give me a few kisses. After a few minutes, he'd rotate his body. He did this every so often for ten minutes or so before he took his usual position at the foot of the bed. Of course, this keeps me awake even longer. I'm okay with that. I love his sweet little purrs almost as much as I love a sound night's sleep.

Nao I kin haz sleepz all dae.

Adventures in mothering Oxford.

Friday, I left work early. No, it wasn't to start my holiday weekend off right. I didn't have big dinner or drink plans. Sadly, I had to take Oxford to see his doctor. I had noticed on Wednesday that my little fella seemed to have a claw issue. Since he was about two months overdue for his rabies shot, I figured I would just suck it up and take him into the veterinarian.

I got in the car with the cat, all set to just have the offending claw snipped quickly and a rabies shot administered.

As you've probably guessed, it ended up being an atypical visit.

Not only was I given a reproachful look for allowing his claw to grow as it did, I was given a stern lecture on how important it was to take him for his dental cleaning. "He is eight years old now, and this needs to be attended to. I see gingivitis and suspect that there will need to be an extraction or two. Oh, and he likely needs blood work at this age. We do that before the cleaning since we put the animal under general anesthesia. They don't just open up and go 'ahhhh,' you know." (SERIOUSLY. She snickered then.)

Sigh. Poor little buddy was already traumatized by the thermometer up his butt and the shot given. They then took him to another room to take care of the nail clipping. They bandaged him up, and gave me antibiotics. Total cost for an afternoon at the vet? $175. But the shame that the vet brought on me for my negligent cat parenting cost me so much more.

This is how we both looked when we got home:

That cast on his leg cost me $26. The vet put it on Oxford on Friday and instructed me to take it off on Sunday. Oxford walked around the apartment like he had no leg, tucking and rolling now and again to see if it would fall off. Within two hours, it did just that. The $26 for the fancy red cast was for nothing.

Oh, and you try giving a squirmy cat an eyedropper full of bubble gum smelling liquid twice a day. It's super fun.

The good news? Oxford seems pretty chipper now. He is without a cast. He runs and slides on his scratcher. He's also back to snuggling after about two days of sullen isolation.

Does anyone have any experience in taking their feline for a dental cleaning? Yea or nay? Is the vet just trying to get me to pay for a service, or do I really need this?

Oxford almost became an outside cat last night.

NOW, NOW, NOW. Before you report me to PETA, please hear me out.

Lately, Oxford has been exceptionally nocturnal. That's normal, right? Most cats are nocturnal. However, it would appear that as of late, he wishes me and P.I.C. to be nocturnal as well. It all starts out the same. The annoying noise of Oxford licking a bag. Then comes the running and sliding. What is hilarious during waking hours (him running and sliding into things) turns into a horribly annoying noise montage in the wee hours of the morning.

P.I.C. and I take turns getting up to scold him. Without fail, once we get up, he follows us back into bed. He will jump on us, and if we attempt to go back to sleep rather than pet him, he will claw at the blankets. Sigh. So one of us will have to try to stay awake for a little bit to pet him to avoid this other annoying sound.

Part of the problem, I suspect, is that we have "stuff" everywhere. There's a plastic bag with all of our table numbers in the living room. There is a box of vases with paper to wrap them laying on top. Everywhere you turn, there are signs of a wedding being hastily planned. However, to Oxford, these are signs of an obstacle course. But not any obstacle course. It is a midnight to 4:00 a.m. obstacle course that must be played in a very large and in charge manner.

Last night, I'd had it. The crashing. The licking. The diving into plastic bags. I was so over it. I was tired, cranky, and certainly in no mood to let this feline creature disrupt my sleep again. I got up. Scolded him. When he came to bed, I told him "No way, cat. You lay down and leave me alone." Eventually, he jumped off the bed only to get back to the run and crash routine. I got up, looked at him pointedly and told him, "OXFORD. I AM ABOUT TO OPEN THAT BACK DOOR AND LET YOU OUT. YOU ARE AN ASSHOLE." At that moment, I shut the bedroom door. No more cat attack last night, thank you.

Yeah, I kind of am a mean cat mom these days. However, I am going to pull the "almost my wedding day" excuse. No one is more scary than a bride close to her wedding day. NO ONE. Trust me.

In re your cat puzzle

This is an actual email I had to send out resulting from Oxford's retaliation at being left alone at home for a few days. Sigh.


Hi friends,


I never anticipated that I would have to write an email like this, but I believe that I have to be honest with both of you. Remember that puzzle that you loaned to us with all of the unhappy-looking cats in costume? P.I.C. and I had been having a great time working on the puzzle bit by bit to put all of those 750 pieces together. We started it before we left for vacation (when Oxford was with his cat-sitter) so we were able to work unobstructedly for a week or so. However, the reconstruction of the puzzle became more difficult when Oxford got home.

He loves to jump on the table and knock things around. Clearly, the puzzle pieces that had taken up habitation on our kitchen table were no exception. We would find pieces on the floor, in the other room, pretty much everywhere throughout our apartment. Finding the pieces and putting them back on our table became part of the puzzle process. However, nothing compares to the treat we got when we arrived home from Missouri this past Sunday night.

Oxford was apparently rather angry at being left alone for two days. We came home to cat puke (typical, because I believe he secretly eats his own hairballs) and then a more interesting "present." Stuck to the floor in our bedroom was a face-down piece from the crazy cat puzzle. No, Oxford didn't get into the glue. He actually had taken a piece of his feces and used it as an adhesive on the puzzle. He's really quite creative, honestly. He's always coming up with different ways to show that we have pissed him off.

Obviously, we owe you another puzzle. I felt it wouldn't be right to return it to you sans one piece. (Of course, the offending "turd piece" was throw away.) P.I.C. suggested that we just buy you a new one and not let you know what really happened. But me? I like to give credit where it is due. Now you both know the feline asshole rage that P.I.C. and I encounter on a daily basis.

I'm sorry that Oxford ruined your puzzle, but of course, we will buy you a new one. Just let me know where I can find it.

With regrets,
Fabulously Awkward

Oh, right. This is payback for the time I dressed him up like an elf.

Honestly? I'm kind of sad.

Why?

Because this little guy?

I call this my mummy sleeping position.

He's residing with my mom for the next two weeks. I brought him there today.

I have lived in my own apartment since 2003. Aside from one night he had to spend at the vet's office, I have lived with that furry, Gizmo-looking creature for SEVEN years. My house feels empty without him. I am sad.

Honestly, I am grateful that I won't have to worry about him while we are gone. My mom's little kitten will keep him plenty busy. But now? I see his toys spilled out over my bedroom floor (because the second I put them all away, he dumps the thing over to get his favorite...catnip cigar), and I miss him.

I know, some people are probably rolling their eyes saying "CRAZY CAT LADY, WTF?!" To those people, I say suck it. Everyone else, feel free to leave me a comment showing how much you care that MY CAT IS NOT IN MY HOUSE TONIGHT.

Thank you.

Hey bandwagon, 'sup?

I cannot RESIST jumping on this "Things I am thankful for this Thanksgiving" bandwagon. I do enough griping about my first world problems, I appreciate any way to gain some perspective of my honestly pretty awesome life. I probably could spend my entire day coming up with things for which I am grateful, so I am narrowing it down to my top ten (well, top ten for today.) Without further ado, here is my version of that list.

1. I am so, so grateful that I have a family that is amazing. I don't see them nearly enough, but I know they are there for me throughout all thick and thin. I love you all.

2. On that same token (I almost just wrote toke...ooops!), I am grateful for my friends. They really are the family I get to see all the time. Whether they are friends I have had for a very long time, or newer friends, all have become an integral part (and there, I just typed party...no shock there) of my life.

3. To my P.I.C., you really do make my life better just by being in it. You put up with so much shenanigans because of me. I can't imagine life without you.

4. TURKEY and GRAVY. I don't even have to EXPLAIN that one. Both are awesome. Fingers crossed that I deliver the goods tomorrow.

5. I get a real vacation this year. Yep. I'm still bragging. Can't help it, but here it is. Not only do I have the opportunity to GO to a completely incredible place, I have the vacation days and a work that will allow me to take SEVEN DAYS (IN A ROW) away from work. Happiness.

6. Digital cameras make me happy. Photographs are my favorite way to capture memories since I seem to forget things quite often, so I take a lot of pictures. Digital cameras make that easier.

7. Oxford (my cat, not the city, although the city AND the university are pretty cool. How do you think my cat got his name?). He might puke and be a jerk most of the time and have a weird affinity for licking plastic bags, but he's a great pet and not one day passes where I don't say, "OMG, look at him. He's so cute."

8. My space heater at work. Seriously. Does it need to be FORTY degrees in here near round. My space heater makes me feel lovely. Oh yeah, and cuz it turns off when I kick it over, I know it's safe. (Please don't tell my bosses I have one. They would confiscate it, and that would make me sad. And cold.)

9. My naturally blond hair. I always have an excuse when I say something dumb. ALWAYS. (And, for what it's worth, shut up if you think that my attitude perpetuates the "dumb blond" stereotype. That is just dumb people. PERIOD.) My inherent laziness means I will not color my hair. I am grateful that it is a decent enough shade to not HAVE to color it. Yet.

10. This blog and my followers. Honestly, after a childhood and teenage years of writing every single thing down that happened in my life, I didn't write for a long time. Starting this blog (well, this incarnation of that) has been one of my most favorite things I have done in the past year or so. I'm grateful that I have this outlet to vent or just blab. I'm even more thankful that there are people who actually READ my inane drivel.

THANK YOU!

I wish everyone a very happy and safe Thanksgiving.