December 11, 2012

Meet Dolly the Doxie

I recently met @DollytheDoxie and thought you would enjoy getting to know her and her mom better. So please say Hello, Dolly!
How old were you when you moved in with your family? Were you a rescue?
I was 3 months old when mom and dad came to pick me up at Wright-Way Rescue. They first saw me and my littermates on when I was 6 weeks old but we were too sick to come home yet. The shelter had found us in poor condition at a local humane society and got us out of there so we could get better and find homes up north in the city.
Are you a breed of some sort? *curious ears*
I was listed as a Dachshund mix. Mom likes the nickname Doxie because she can’t spell the long version. She new nothing about my breed just thought I would stay small. Two and a half years later she knows now that almost all of my personality and behavior is pure Doxie. The verdict is still out on what the rest of me is. Most people think I am a purebred when they see me. I am very flattered.

December 5, 2012

A Bed of Memories by Squeaky & Elvis

Our mommy never travels unless for business purposes. When asked why not travel, she always answers "I like my bed and being with my babies." Us, of course.

We asked the same question and this is what we were told: Even though we are in another house our things are still here with us. Starting with her bed. It may not be a resort bed, but the bed belonged to someone who shares her last name. When she lies down, she sees where sissy Smokey spent her last six months and where her food bowl was kept by her pillow. There is the comforter with blood stains from when Sissy Smokey had her last nose bleed. The blood mommy cannot wash away.

This is the same bed our mommy shared with her three girls (Kitty, The Bandit, & Smokey) wrapped around her, protecting her from unknown threats when she came from a month stay in the hospital.

This is the bed Kitty shared with her during naps and The Bandit snuggled against her chest.

This is the bed where she now sees two sleepy boys all curled up next to one another on his pillow and one is in his pink bed, creating another memory…one of many more to come.

So you see it isn’t just a bed to our mommy. It’s a scrapbook of memories, created by some to be finished by others. Mommy says she would rather sleep with the memories of past, present & future than in a bed with none.


November 26, 2012

Dee Jay Debut

Hi Pals!

I guess most of you know by now that I made my dee jay debut at Bode's (@4catsstrapski) Bachelor Pawty on Saturday.

I was real nervous, but my mom helped me pick out songs to play to go along wif Bode's Hawaiian themed pawty. So I think I did pretty good. I even got a request *proud ears*.

Then on Sunday, @NancyCakeFace had her Bachelorette Pawty...and it seemed like there was no moosic, so I jumped in wif all four paws and played moosic till my mom took away my pawPhone cuz she had to go somewhere.

I had a great time and appreciate everyone telling me I did a good job. Yay!

If you have requests for me to play at future pawties, I'd sure like to get them cuz my Mom is stuck in the 80s and I really love Will Smith's Jiggy Wif It song. You all probably will want to hear something other than that. Hugs!

November 10, 2012

Remembering Cookie

by Kimberley Koz
When a loved one passes away, be they human or pet, a part of my heart goes with them, and I am never the same. This year, 2012, I lost Nicholas in February and Cookie in November, both to mold-related respiratory infections.

The honest truth is, with Cookie’s passing I feel relief, both for him and for me. Seeing him suffer, yet clinging to hope that he would be well again took a lot out of me. What he endured, beyond what dear Nick went through, I wouldn’t wish on anyone. Think about having the worst cold ever… Think about having it for over ten months.

Throughout this year Herman and I mentioned Cookie receiving pills and allergy shots to combat this awful infection, but I never posted photos of what he went through because…it was gross. His nose oozed constantly, with thick mucus running when he lowered his head. He often crouched on a little stool by the window, warming himself, oozing all over the sill.
He would sneeze and spray throughout the day, resting only when my husband Ray came home and would lie on the living room floor to watch television. I swear Ray was a German shepherd in a past life...he rarely sits on furniture.
Cookie had a dog-like devotion to Ray and every night would lie in the crook of his arm and sleep. He slept with utter peace, so deep that his suffering for the moment was lightened. We could barely hear him breathe.

On Sunday, November 4th, I woke to find Cookie’s eyes looking weird. Turns out the pressure from inside his head had pushed his third eyelids out of whack. Our wonderful vet, Dr. Brandy Ellis, said his face was swollen and tender. The prednisolone and the allergy shots were not helping. He was not going to get better. 

I took Cookie home to spend one last night in the crook of Ray’s arm, and then the following day we said goodbye…for now.

I want to remember Cookie for the quirky little cat he was. Ray and I moved to Richmond, Kentucky in 1999 and on our 5 acres lived a scrawny Tuxedo cat that had few social skills.
Cookie patrols Kentucky property
He clearly wanted to be accepted and yet he had no clue on how to make friends. I brought with me from Florida a couple polydactyl tabbies - Moose and Logan - who had a father/son relationship--but were actually half-brothers (their mother Angel was a feral bimbo; sorry but she would have her fun, and then dump her babies in my yard for me to care for. But that’s another story.)

Anyway! Moose had already formed a negative opinion about another cat on our property: Nicholas. 

Nick was aggressive and angry, and he smelled foul from eating god-knows-what. Moose decided he’d had enough of Nick’s antagonism and told Cookie, if you keep Nick away from us, you can be in our club. So that’s what Cookie did: for six years he made it his mission to make Nick’s life hell. He followed him around the property, quacking like a duck (Cookie did not meow, he quacked) smacking at Nick’s tail, being relentlessly annoying. Poor Nick, I did feel for him, but in truth he did deserve to be hassled because he was a pain in the butt.

Belonging to The Moose Club had a remarkable effect on Cookie. 
Moose, Cookie & Logan
Cookie & Moose
For 3 years I rarely got a photo of Cookie sitting upright
He turned from insecure, his tail always tucked between his legs, always rolling on his side with submission, into a confidant and commanding cat. In fact…he earned the nickname The General. (Cookie was an unfortunate name for him. I originally called him Oreo, but he didn’t know what the heck an Oreo was and he actually liked Cookie.) Moose was not only a friend to him, but a father figure. And Logan was Cookie’s brother-friend. The three of them went everywhere together. That Moose, a kind gentleman with huge six-toe’d paws, took Cookie under his wing and gave him purpose is something I will never forget. Moose was an amazing cat, feral and yet in his golden years actually lived inside my home, never causing any trouble.
Moose in his golden years

On June 29, 2003 The General went into battle again my sister’s Jeep, and came out a little worse for it. Despite the heat of the summer, he crawled inside her engine and napped in the fan box. When she started the car…ugh. I recall the look on her face when she tried to start her car for a second time--and realized what might have happened. She threw open the hood and Cookie was inside. We lived on 5 acres…surrounded by woods. If he ran, and was as injured as I feared, it would not be good. So I reached in and pulled him out. He was clearly in agony, and chomped into my hand, highly uncharacteristic for this sweet, mellow cat. Still, I held on while my sister ran for my cat carrier. All the way to the emergency Cookie sat in his box, saying “Ow! Ow! Ow!” He had a broken leg and lost a couple toes from one paw. And his life changed for it, because we brought him inside the house permanently. 
Well, actually he performed The Great Escape for one day. I had put him on the screened patio to enjoy the breeze, but when I returned he was gone...and all that was left was a hole in the screen and his little yellow leg cast. And out by the deer lick I spied Cookie with Moose and Logan, sitting in a circle. I guess Cookie was explaining to them why he was living indoors now. I swooped him up and took him back to the vet to have his cast replaced.

Indoors, Cookie hit it off with Herman, and Buddy and Holly. We now had the four mouseketeers in our home and they were pals.

The General transferred his allegiance from Moose and Logan to Ray and I. He would tell us when to get up, and when to go to bed. We were the ones now pursued with annoying relentlessness throughout the house. The indoor cats however never showed signed of being annoyed by his odd quacking, raspy voice, or the way he would herd us like sheep. Ray referred to him as a sheep cat for awhile.

When we moved from Kentucky country to suburban Mid-South area, I had to bring my cats indoors. I could not risk them being hit by a car as our home now sat behind a busy street. That meant The General would not only be reunited with his pals Moose and Logan, but also be residing inside with Nicholas. But 3 years had passed and Nick no longer stunk. He had mellowed with age and frankly I think he was happy retiring from the outside tomcat life. I still picture Nick sitting like a bear at the zoo with his back against a wall, his legs out in front of him, grooming himself, at peace.

Amazingly, Nick and Cookie became…well, friends isn’t right. More like co-Alphas. They grew to respect each other. I always fed them side by side, Nick twice as big as Cookie.

Although there were still times when they reverted back to their old relationship where Cookie bugged the heck out of Nick and Nick had to show him who was boss.

 Still, the older Nick became, the less interested he was in putting the other cats in their place, but frankly Cookie never stopped trying to keep order. The day before he passed, he cuffed Barney’s ear for sitting too close to his food dish.

Cookie lived fifteen years, thirteen of which were a part of my life. I regret that I wasn’t able to hold him as a baby, but I was honored to watch him evolve from the shy, insecure nerd he was into the amazing Alpha he became.

So now Cookie and Nick sit side by side on my shelf, and hopefully their spirits will linger in my household, keeping watch over us until we see each other again in the afterlife. Which I truly believe is possible.

I would like Cookie and Nick to serve as poster cats for mold-related respiratory infection. In 2009 we had a huge tree drop on our home during a tornado. The contractor hired to repair the damage took far too long, and with the heat, humidity and the rain, I believe that is how mold turned up inside our air handlers. It grew over the next two years, and the result was first Nick and then Cookie suffered for it. In fact, we all did. Please click on their photos on the side bar to read about symptoms and what to look for. I highly recommend you have your air ducts cleaned professionally every 3 years. If your family suffers from runny noses, constant lethargy, memory loss, inability to concentrate…you could have mold in your home.

November 8, 2012

Meet @NewtTheCat

Like Isaac Newton's apple, my furend @NewtTheCat fell into the life of his mom, Lisa, and became the apple of her eye. Newt has an interesting story, and I'm pleased he agreed to share it here on my blog. Please welcome Newt!

How old were you when you moved in with your family? Were you a rescue?
The shelter vet said I was three weeks old when I was rescued – a foster bottle baby.

What breed are you?
Some folks have said with my spots I might be part Egyptian Mau, but my purrents and my vets say that I’m a miracle cat. Do you know what breed is a miracle cat? Is it like an Ocicat? They have spots, too.

November 7, 2012

The Wondering Thoughts of S&E...30 Things We Are Most Thankful For

As you know from last Wednesday, Squeaky and Elvis Presley @SqueakyElvis are writing a column for my blog. Today they wanted to share what they are most thankful for.
1. Noms
2. Catnip
3. Soft Bed
4. Clean litter boxes...well more like we wish for clean boxes, but well...we have staff problems
5. Noms
6. Noms
7. Catnip
8. Cat trees
9. Warm bed
10.  Mommy's job which pays for our noms.
11. Toys
12. Noms....did we say that already?
13. Clean litter boxes...maybe if we keep listing it then it will come true.
14. Catnip
15. Noms
16. Dreamies
17. Dining room chairs which we sleep on & move on a daily basis
18. Water
19.  Water...hey mommy check the bowl, would you?
20.  Mommy's shoes which we play & move through the house.
21. Sun puddles...hey open the blinds mommy
22.  TURKEY!
23.  After turkey day Turkey
24. Noms
25.  Clean litter boxes
26. Sun puddles
27.  Toys
29. Packers with a winning record


Thanks guys! I'm thinking Turkey Day is gonna be big at your house.

November 6, 2012


I recently met Bliss and thought she would be interesting to intermew. And I was right! Please welcome my new furend...@GuideDogBliss

How old were you when you moved in with your family? Were you a rescue?
I am a retired guide dog, so I moved in with my family when I started to train with mum. At that time I was 19 months.

What breed are you?
I am a Labrador cross Golden Retriever.

What inspired your hoomans to name you?
Guide dogs are named when born, so your eventual owner does not name you. Each litter born at a breeding centre has a name beginning with the same letter of the alphabet. So all my brothers and sisters have names beginning with B. The next litter born at the breeding centre would all have names beginning with C and so on.

Do you have siblings? Do you get along?
I am the only animal in the house. All my brothers and sisters were also bred to be guide dogs, but I don’t know how many of them qualified successfully.

October 23, 2012


Bad Boys!
Bad Boys!
Whatcha gonna do...
Whatcha gonna do when your meowmy comes for you....?

Claiming the COPS theme song for their own, my pals Squeaky and Elvis make getting into mischief a top priority. They're fun and funny. So please welcome the bad boys you know as @SqueakyElvis.

How old were you when you moved in with your family? Were you a rescue? 

We were 6 months old. We are rescues from Kansas. Our birth mom had us under a porch then moved us next door inside. Just yowled for the door to be opened and moved us into a closet in the back room. This house was owned by the sister of our foster mom whom brought us and a sister to Oklahoma. She kept our sister Gracie and gave us, Squeaky & Elvis, to mommy. Mommy just lost Kitty the year before and The Bandit the month before. She said no before to taking us before the Bandit died, but our names came up in random conversions so she relented and took us in. It has been a party every since.

October 22, 2012


Anipals, gather round, cuz I'm about to intermew another of my beloved furends, a real great kitteh named Luka. Please welcome @I_Am_Luka

How old were you when you moved in with your family? Were you a rescue?
No one is really sure how old I am. Mama and Uncle Rob think I was almost a year old when I adopted her on June 14, 2011 (Flag Day!). The stabbypeople all said I was older – anywhere from 3 to 10! – but now they are still saying 3-5. So the only two hoo-mons I will talk to are sticking with what they said…which make me going on 2 now.

I adopted Mama so that makes her the rescue. I lived outside the whole winter before deciding on her. Would sneak food off of Uncle Rob’s back porch, but not let either one of them near me.

What breed are you?
I am a Domestic Longhair…I look like a long haired Russian Blue. (Excuse me – that reminds me I need to groom. ::: takes time away from questions for a little grooming :::)

What inspired your hoomans to name you?
That was a big decision for Mama! She likes Oscar Wilde a lot so almost gave me that for a name. She also is addicted to “The Big Bang Theory” so tried to think of a Manhattan Project name since that’s how Sheldon named his cats when he had a clowder. She even asked @BillPrady about it on Twitter and he reminded her about that, as well as suggesting Oppenheimer. She thought that was a big name for a guy as little as I was then, so kept thinking.

Several hoo-mons told her I look like I am a Russian Blue and she’s a big fan of Russian names, so she put together a list of them and when she got to “Luka”, said “Aha!  That’s it!”

And since I am so youthful looking, my middle name is DorianGray…also a nod to Oscar.

It took her almost two whole weeks to name me!  Her friend Mildred (Freddy the dachshund lives with Mildred, but I digress) was getting mad at her…Mildred was afraid she was not going to let me adopt her!  Now I have Mama completely kitty-whipped. MOL!

October 17, 2012

Hanging Out with Lou @LiveLoveMeow

Lou: Herman!!! Long time no meow!

Herman: Hey Lou! I haven’t seen you in awhile. I bet you’ve been busy like me, keeping our Moms inspired so they can continue to keep us in the luxury we are accustomed to. So, whatcha been up to?

Lou: Well, as you know, my job is Vice Pawsident and Spokescat for That means that I wear many collars.

Herman: *Gasp!* I wear just one and it’s tight! I can’t imagine wearing more! You poor kitteh!

Lou: No, no! I mean, I am companion and muse to my Human Mom. I keep her company while she works, and give her ideas for blog posts and products to carry in our web shop and such. I also make her laugh with my antics. If I think she's been working for too long without a break, I jump in her lap, throw myself over her shoulder, and purr in her ear.

Herman: Ohhhh. Okay. Had me worried there for a moment. I hear you got a new blog!

Lou: Yes! Not only do I help speak to our anipals and Human Moms/Dads on Twitter <@livelovemeow>, but also through my blog, The Secret Life of Lou. <> That’s one of my favorite parts of my job: communicating with other anipals and their Moms and Dads, and perhaps helping them when they are sad.

Herman: Yeah. I no like sad Moms and Dads either. They tend to forget da kittehs need attention and more important…lunch! You said something about a web shop. What’s that about?

Lou: Well, I help product-test the newer things being sold in the shop; from time to time I get to try out new treats, toys, or cat furniture. <>

Herman: OMC! Really? You get to test-drive toys and treats and *envy ears* cat furniture? Hm. Wish my mom would open a web shop…but then she’d never have time to write. As it is she barely has time to open a can of toona.

Lou: I also am Official Watch Cat. I patrol the house and office frequently, and watch over my Human Mom. If there is anything going on that I feel Mom should know about, I make sure she knows it! Included in that Watch Cat title is being a champion bug, mouse, and lizard-catcher.

Herman: Yeah, I’m kinda a Watch Cat too, sorta. I sit next to her computer screen and watch her write, gazing soulfully…hungrily at her…sending her telepawthic messages to stop and feed me. I also watch bugs in the house. I watch them crawl across the floor. Um…. Hey! I caught a grass-snake once! *proud ears* See? Here’s pwoof:

Lou: So, Herman, let's turn this around. You know what my days and duties are like as mews to a working mom; what’s going on with you? You’ve been kinda AWOL from Twitter a lot lately, which I’m sure doesn’t make your fiancée, Belle (@Frankencat1) too happy.

Herman: Belle has been understanding, thank goodness! I’m companion and mews to my writer mom, @KimberleyKoz. I inspire her story ideas. But lately I've been up to the tippy tops of my ears keeping my mom from plunging off the deep end. She’s got a very full plate right now, seeking an agent for her recently completed novel. Plus she’s working on two more stories. Plus she’s developing a new author blog. She’s still promoting her published romantic comedy, Southern Exposure. Plus she’s dealing with my daddy traveling on business, and Buddy being old and diabetic, and Cookie being so sick wif his allergies and stuff. There’s multiple layers of stress, so its all I can do some days to support her and not fwreak out myself. *whispers* I been hitting the nip pretty heavily to stay calm.

Lou: Do you get extra treats and toys on the days your presence has been extra-helpful?


Herman: Well, I hang out in the office I share wif my mom. The other kitties in our house aren’t allowed in unless I approve, which I don’t always. Mom keeps kibble at her desk for me, but it’s the fire pee kibble I’m supposed to eat and I don’t like it. But…beggers can’t be choosers and so I eat it. I haz my beloved Pajama Bear toy and my chair. It’s quiet and in our house that’s a treat in itself.

Lou: Do you get to go on book tours with your writer mom? How do you travel? Do you walk on harness and leash?

Herman: I’ve never gone on tour, just done local stuff. However Mom has a couple stories in the works that have me in them as a character and she sez I can go on tour wif her then to promote. I think I be a good promoter. I haz a nice open-top cat carrier to travel in, and yes I’m on a body harness. But mostly I sit in Mom’s lap and look adorapurr. I do love to travel, though. I’ve been up to Michigan a couple times, and once to Nashville. I sit in Mom’s lap and either nap or watch for trucks. I love trucks! Big red trucks are my favorite.

Lou, thanks for stopping by my blog and for telling me all about your project. Always enjoy hanging out wif you. Yay!

Furends, if you haz a business to promote, maybe you and I could talk about it sometime.

Don't Mess Wif Me!