Plum Crazy

Where Did I Go Wrong?

A and I left the house yesterday. The television was off. We return to find the television on, a cat (Portia) on the couch near the remote control, and that Justin Timberlake concert thing blaring from the TV. I'm not sure how I wound up with a cat who is a Justin Timberlake fan.

Unless it was this that did it:

In which case, I guess I can get past it. Because that was funny.

Friday Cat Blogging

Portia did something cute today, so you get Friday cat blogging! Emma's just lying on the same old cushion as last week, so she's not getting a new picture posted this week.

Portia sometimes likes to curl up under the quilt. I meanly disturbed her nap by pulling the quilt back so you could see her all tucked in.

Friday Cat Blogging

Yes, I participate in this in a completely undetermined way. I don't normally take pictures of the cats every week. But I did take some a few weeks back that I finally downloaded from the camera. So this Friday, you get cat blogging! Below the fold.

First up, Emma coordinating stylishly with the seat cushion. She matches the living room decor well.

Next, Portia playing with her dolly, which is nearly the same size she is.

Friday Cat Blogging

Oh, why not! Below the jump.

First up, Emma.

And now, Portia, who will be 3 years old in January.

Saturday Cat Blogging

Portia commits feats of derring-do, climbing up the garment bag in the closet to survey the world from a lofty perch. This is not quite as impressive as when she manages to get on top of the 9' armoire, but I can't get a picture of her all the way up there.

Nowhere to Hide

Thanks to Lesley's move back to Manhattan, I took ownership of her fabby queen-size bed today. It's a Captain's Bed replete with a headboard full of shelves and a base with plenty of storage room for clothes and the like. A large bed, indeed, and when the movers showed up with it today, the cats ran for cover guess where? That's right, under the old bed. A poor hiding choice, especially for Huck, who thought he was safe until the mattress and the box spring from the bed came off. Suddenly exposed and not liking it a bit, Huck shot out from under the bed past a startled mover. Huck was such a lightening bolt that the mover had no idea what had just blasted by him. Later, Huck repeated the move, this time from the living room back into the bedroom and underneath the dresser. At the urging of the movers, I coaxed Huck out and stuck him in the bathroom until they were gone. When it was time to set him free, he was curled up in the bathtub, the poor traumatized kitty. Soon, though, he and Scooter were back to normal, loving the size and comfort of the new bed.

Box Creepage

Cats love boxes. They curl up inside of them instantly. Thus, I am suffering from box creepage. I have acquired three boxes over time that have become a permanent part of my decor. Two shoe boxes and one boot box. The latter I opened on Friday. The second I took the boots out Scooter curled up inside. I knew from that moment that I was fated to keep the box.

Scooter The Mighty Hunter

Last night when I was talking with Mom the conversation turned to Scooter and his penchant for killing cockroaches. If ever there's a roach that slips past me, have no fear, Scooter is here. With ironic timing, I spot a roach in my bedroom last night. It scurries into the closet and disappears. Images of waking up to find a roach staring at me went through my head as I turned in. But thanks to Scooter it was an uneventful night. In the living room this morning, I spot the roach on its back dead. Good Scooter!

Listen Here Cat

It's 4:45 in the morning. I was sound asleep. There is plenty of food in the bowl, both canned and dry. So tell me, why did you wake me up?

Portia Says

"I went into Mom's purse this morning to make sure she made her Blogathon donation to the Cat Welfare Society of Israel, just like she promised Laurence she would."

Friday Cat Blogging

Yay for cats. They are cute and sweet and all sorts of good things.

Goodbye to the Littlest Jangel

My sweet little kitty, Jane Eyre, was put down this morning. The growth in her lung had gotten bigger, and she couldn't breathe well any longer. She was hacking or wheezing most of the time, unable to get comfortable. There was nothing the vets could do for her. She had a very bad reaction to chemotherapy, so that wasn't an option. As long as her breathing was all right, she could live with the lump. But that stopped two nights ago. The vet tried giving her asthma medication, to see if that might help, but it did not. At that point, it was clear that she was suffering without any help available. She was almost 15 years old.

She was the sweetest, happiest, most content kitty I ever knew. Even the vets would always remark at how she never complained, regardless of what they did. Even a shot in her muscle wouldn't evoke a flinch or meow.

I remember when I first got her. It was in September 1990. She was 12 weeks old. She had been abandoned by her previous owner. I was at the apartment of a woman who worked for Friends of Animal, picking out two kittens. I sat down on the woman's bed in a roomful of kittens. Jane jumped on the bed and immediately curled up by my leg and went to sleep. I knew then that I would take her home. She had picked me, after all. How could I not?

I took her back to my apartment. At first, she was scared and confused. She immediately hid under the bed. It was a daybed with a trundle underneath it, but she was such a small kitten that she could squeeze underneath the trundle. She wouldn't come out for two days. I put food and water by the foot of the bed. After a couple of days, she finally came out. From that time on, she was very attached to me (and I to her). She was scared of everyone else (other than the vet), but she loved and trusted me completely.

She was always good at finding places to hide, though. She did like to curl up in cozy, covered places. When I moved into Manhattan, into a studio apartment, I was terrified that she had somehow gotten out. I couldn't find her for hours. She had managed to jump behind the refrigerator and go to sleep underneath it. If the closet doors would open, I would often find her curled up in the back of the closet. She would regularly disguise herself as a quilt as well, especially during colder weather.

But she would also sleep next to me on the bed. She would flirt with me when I came home, playing roly poly. She would hold my head down with her paw so she could clean my face. Apparently she had mistaken me for her kitten, even though she never had kittens. And she would purr. Boy would she purr. She purred more loudly than any cat I've ever known. Especially for such a small cat.

I will miss her terribly. It's hard for me to believe that I will never see her again, hold her, kiss her little head, or hear her purr. But at least she's not suffering now.

Goodbye Jangel. I will always love you.

Friday Cat Blogging

Portia on her favorite piece of furniture - the cat tree

Plus an extra special bonus - A goose! It's sleeping outside the door to the West Des Moines office.

Inhumane

There is a twisted proposal in Wisconsin to legalize the shooting of stray cats. Worse, a stray cat would include not just feral cats, but any domesticated cat not under the control of its owner and not wearing a collar. The proposal, passed by the state's Conservation Congress, is wrong on so many levels that I don't even know where to start. How about that it's indecent and cruel? That there are much more humane ways to control the population of cats, such as catching feral cats and spaying or neutering them before returning them to the wild. Thankfully, the governor doubts that the proposal will gain lawmakers' approval as needed.

Stuck

I am here at computer (obviously) with plans to start doing stuff around the apartment. But I have a (sweet) problem. Huck, one of my two cats, is next to me, his head on my hand when I'm not typing, cooing. Who can resist such cuteness?

Tuesday Catblogging

Who can wait until Friday to post a picture this cute. Portia plays with a cat doll.

BTW, she's adorable, but quite a handful for such a tiny cat. She's all of 6 pounds and not likely to get any bigger. But completely fearless. One of her nicknames is the Tiny Terror. One of these days I'll catch a picture of Emma and Portia standing near each other, and you'll see how a 6 pound cat can make a 9 pound cat look huge.

Progress!

Whoa, Jane and Portia are existing relatively close to each other without hideous fireworks!

Playing in the Snow

Okay, so actually it's a blanket with snowflakes on it. But Portia likes it. anyway

Speaking of Portia, when I got her last week, the vet wasn't sure whether Portia had been spayed or not. They had been unable to check because of the pelvic fracture. I took her back to the vet yesterday for a one-week check-up, which she passed with flying colors. She was walking around like she had never been hurt. Of course, she's been jumping all over the place in my apartment and bouncing off the furniture, so this came as no great surprise.

Anyway, while she was there, Portia decided to answer the question of whether or not she had been spayed. She started to exhibit signs of going into heat. She actually started to exhibit those signs the night before ("Look, here's my butt!"), so I had already figured out she wasn't. The vet still shaved her belly to be 100% positive, but sure enough, Portia hasn't been spayed. I'm taking her in on Wednesday.

Cat Speak

Cat language is remarkably easy to translate. Though they typically say only one thing - "Meow" - there are enough nuances in tone and body language that it's pretty easy to understand what they're saying.

For example, Scooter just said, "Meow" while he was parading the food dish. The translation? Well, I think we all know. My response: "Scooter, you just ate. I saw you." Translation: "You're not snowing me cat nor are you going to get any more food either." Is it any wonder why we call him the round mound?

Update: looks like we're in for a battle of wills. Scooter is parked right in front of the bowls.

Carnival of the Cats at a Cat Hater's

In some kind of proof that blogging makes strange bedfellows, Ibejo, an avowed "fragile" cat-hater* (he's fragile, not his hatred for cats), brings us this week's Carnival of the Cats.

*Well, he says he hates cats, but apparently he's a nice enough guy to not make fun of a cat who was hit by a car. Which just goes to show you - there's some good in everyone.

Con Cat

My cat, Scooter, and I have this ritual. There is a tall dresser next to my bed, and Scooter likes to play king of the castle by parading on top of the dresser.

The problem is that Scooter is a fat cat whose bulk allegedly prevents him from making the leap to the dresser from the bed. So he plays Pied Piper and leads me into the bedroom with meows and glances back at me, hops up on the bed, scurries over to the dresser, and stretches toward the dresser with his front paws leaning on it. Crane of the head back, more meowing, and I oblige by lifting him up. Of course, since it's so cute, I am a willing participant.

Well, today, I open up a drawer in my wide dresser, Scooter decides he wants to curl up in the drawer, and in one fell swoop makes the leap unaided.

The little con artist. If he can make that leap, he can make the other one, too. Now that I'm on to him, the question, of course, is what to do. Alas, I will probably continue to play the little game. Because who can resist his charms?

A New Addition

There's a new addition to the family. This is Portia.

Poor little Portia was hit by a car in the Holland Tunnel. Fortunately, she only suffered a pelvic fracture. The Port Authority police brought her to the Hoboken Animal Hospital, which is where I take Emma and Jane for their veterinary needs. The time Jane had to stay for the day, she wound up in the cage next to Portia. I saw on the tag of Portia's cage that she had no owner, and my heart immediately went out to her. She took to me readily, so I told my vet that when her fracture was healed, I'd take her home. Today was the day.

So far it hasn't been too hideous. I had to keep her locked in a large carrier for about an hour, while Emma growled and hissed. Jane hissed once or twice, but promptly decided it wasn't worth all the effort, so she calmed down. Once Emma calmed down a bit, meaning she was still growling and hissing, but wasn't actively trying to get at Portia, I let Portia out of the carrier. Aside from a couple of tense moments, there's only been a lot more growling and hissing. Portia is very happy to be out of a cage, running and jumping around, playing with cat toys. She is quite fond of the feather toy, parading around with it in her mouth looking for all the world like she just caught a bird.

Fingers crossed Emma will adjust. I keep telling her what a good girl she is and how much I love her. I pet her as much as she'll let me, which isn't a lot right now, as she's quite mad at me for bringing in an interloper. But direct hostilities haven't broken out, so I have high hopes.

Jane, on the other hand, is sleeping.

A Cat's View of New Years

Emma and Jane wanted you to know their thoughts on the New Year.

Yeah, they take the same view of it as they did the old year. We're cats. Let's sleep.

I Don't Care...

...what all my teachers say. I'm gonna be a supermodel.

Jane is hoping to become the new Carnival of the Cats margin model for January, but she needs your help. Go cast your vote for the first one of her pictures! That would be jane1.jpg, just to be perfectly clear. Them's the rules.

Remember, vote. Vote for the first picture of Jane, but vote!

The Carnival of the Cats Turns 40

Ha, it will turn 41 before I do! Now, go check out all the cute kitty posts.

Random Catblogging

Tonight I stripped the bed to change the sheets. I put the sheets in a big pile on the bed while fishing out the new sheets from the drawer. Jane decided that the big pile of sheets would make a fine place to sleep. I decided that would make a cute picture.

Vitamin V

My cat, Jane Eyre (Jane for short), has been a sick kitty. She is a little old lady at 14 1/2, which, as I tell her, explains her grey hair, but up until two weeks ago, she had never been sick a day in her little kitty life.

She was vomiting clear liquid, which was odd. The second time she did it in 3 days, I took her to the vet. The vet suspected she was in kidney failure, not uncommon for cats her age, so we took some blood tests. The creatine level was a smidge high (0.1 ml), so the vet determined that it was probably the very early stages, requiring only a change in diet. She also recommended an ultrasound to help determine how far advanced the kidney failure was.

The ultrasound confirmed that she was in the early stages, but turned up something else surprising. When doing a physical, the vet couldn't feel any tumors. Lo and behold, the ultrasound showed a small tumor in the stomach, so small that it wasn't possible to feel from the outside. Lucky, because this meant Jane was in the very early stages of cancer, making her prognosis for remission good. A biopsy showed it was lymphoma, which generally responds very well to chemotherapy.

So Jane got her first course of chemotherapy a week ago Tuesday. It turned her appetite a bit, not surprisingly, but she was eating for the first three days after the chemo. Then she stopped eating last Friday night. She would only take a little milk. She threw up the appetite stimulant the vet gave me, although she does keep down the Prednisone. Saturday morning she wouldn't eat anything either, so back to the vet. She got a shot of some kitty Pepcid and a bottle of kitty Pepto Bismol for use at home. I also got some high-caloric food (Hills Prescription Diet A/D) which she would hopefully eat on her own, but if not, instructions on how to force-feed her and some feeding syringes. She wouldn't eat it on her own, so I mixed it with some water and force-fed her for the next week. She threw up the kitty Pepto Bismol too. The only medications she would keep down were the Prednisone and kitty Compazine.

Because she wasn't eating on her own, the vet wasn't sure whether she wanted to give her the second course of chemo, so she took another ultrasound. This showed that the tumor was gone and the stomach lining was thin. So her refusal to eat was a mystery. Finally, yesterday, the vet gave her a shot of valium, which in small doses acts as an appetite stimulant in cats. And boy does it ever. One minute later, she was eating. I took her home last night, after she got IV fluids for the day to help hydrate her, and she was eating. She has been eating all day today.

She'll restart the chemo on Tuesday. Even though the tumor is gone, the cancer is probably still in her lymph system, so we want to be sure we put her in total remission. Believe me, though, if she won't eat again after that, I won't wait a week before asking for Vitamin V. She really feels much better when she's eating on her own, rather than being force-fed.

Belated Friday Catblogging

Have more fun in bed!

Jane gets all tucked in

Emma inspects the Aero Bed

Carnivale De Los Gatos!

This week's Carnival of the Cats is up at The People's Republic of Seabrook. Kitties galore! Go enjoy.

Friday Catblogging

Today's theme is fun with catnip socks.

Emma:

Jane:

Carnival of the Cats

The 36th Carnival of the Cats is up at Watermark. Lots of kitty goodness (and Emma and Jane making their debut appearance).

Friday Catblogging

Everybody loves the new chair!

Jane and Emma showing how detente works:

Jane all curled up in a ball of kitty fur:

Emma looking up at me like I'm some kind of camera-toting freak:

Bad Week

It's been a rough week for me and my two cats, Scooter and Huck. Last Tuesday, I brought Scooter in to have his teeth cleaned, and he hasn't been right since then. I've had to force medicine on him that he doesn't want, he's had negative reactions to the medicine on a couple of occasions, Huck has been hostile to him because he doesn't recognize his scent, and he's gone back to the vet twice (once because of his reaction to the medicine and again because it seemed like he had a cold). He has been through the wringer and is one unhappy, moping, and stressed cat. Thankfully, the vet says he appears to be fine aside from the psychological burden, but I don't ever want him to go through this again. Not to mention me or Huck. Because this whole thing has put us through the wringer, too. Huck from having to deal with this “strange” cat, and me from having to put up with the stress of feeling Scooter’s stress.

Did He or Didn't He? Nope, He Didn't

All in all it's been a bad week for my cat Scooter, who had his teeth cleaned on Tuesday. The ordeal of the procedure, being at the vet for a day and a half, his brother having no clue who he is right now and giving him what-for, and having me force medicine down his throat (just about literally).

Then it appeared to me Scooter threw up twice, presumably from the antibiotic. Not that I actually witnessed it but saw what appeared to be clear stomach contents on the kitchen floor. Home today to keep an eye on him, I've seen him get feisty with the water bowl, dipping his paw in and slapping at the water. He managed to spill a decent amount on the floor just now, making me wonder, did he just spill a ton of water on the floor and not actually throw up? And as I watch the water run a couple of feet away from the water bowl, the answer is definitely yes. Silly cat. He earned a trip to the vet earlier because of it. Oh well, at least his stomach is for sure fine.

A Cat's View of the Election

Emma sleeps through the whole thing

Jane hides in her cave

Who Is This Weird Cat?

Today I took my cat Scooter to the vet for a routine check-up. He had bladder surgery three years ago, and I like to have him checked out around the anniversay. Well, as usual, the moment I get him home from the vet, my other cat, Huck, objects strongly to his new scent. Doesn't recognize him and is in a hissy mood. Literally. Maybe I should check with the vet to make sure it really is Scooter.

Of course, I really can't wait until I put Scooter in overnight for the dental work he needs. It'll take Huck days to get used to him again. At least this time it shouldn't be more than a few hours.

Cat Time

2:30 AM ETT - eastern throwup time
6:30 AM EBT - eastern breakfast time
11:30 PM ENT - eastern (run) nuts time

Have I missed any time zones?

Catster

I recently discovered Catster, thanks to Laurence's catcam. Emma and Jane are now making their appearances there. Wheeee!

Midnight Crazies

I often wonder what it is that happens to cats who are one minute chilling cool as a cucumber and the next minute they're in a complete frenzy. My mother gave me a good name for it today: the Midnight Crazies.

It happened to my cat Scooter last night. One second he's fine. The next minute he's racing Pell-Mell into the living room and smack into a bookshelf. Moved the thing a good couple of inches. Thankfully he seems to be ok. And come to think of it, it happened not too long before midnight.

Cute But Dubious Idea

A restaurant for cats and their humans, the Meow Mix Cafe, has opened in Manhattan. You know, as cute as the idea is, I think it has disaster written all over it. Throwing a bunch of strange cats together in the same room can't be a good idea. I speak from experience. My cats Huck and Scooter are brothers, yet Huck goes psycho whenever I bring Scooter from a stay at the vet.

Friday Cat Blogging

It's that time again!

Emma sleeping in her favorite box. I had opened the box to remove the book, and Emma immediately decided she wanted to claim this box as her own. She looked so comfortable, I decided to leave the box on the desk for her to sleep in.

Jane always wants to help me make the bed. And when I say help, I mean roll around on each layer of sheets as I put them on. Sure, I can take her off the bed to put on the sheets, but she gets right back on to recommence her rolling activities.

Friday Cat Blogging

I'm throwing you a little change-up for this week's Friday Cat Blogging. Instead of blogging pictures of my cats, I'm blogging pictures of my brother's cats.

First up, it's Huck on the Table

And now, Scooter in a Suitcase

Friday Cat Blogging

Today's entry is simply titled Bookends.

Friday Cat Blogging

In honor of my taking the day off work and it being Friday, I present Friday Cat Blogging! In keeping with the theme of relaxation, today's pictures will be of relaxing kitties.

Jane all tucked in

Emma lounging on her favorite couch cushion

The Stepford Cats

This is just scary. The expression, or lack thereof, on the faces of these cats indicates that they have been hypnotized, drugged, and brainwashed. What else could explain a cat letting a human dress it up like that?

Oh, the catanity.

Via Randy.

Friday Cat Blogging

It's Friday again. And Friday the 13th no less. As seems typical for me lately on Fridays, the blogging muse escapes me. I had a rather uneventful day. A couple of meetings. Left work at 5 pm to enjoy the long weekend. Watched Come Back to the Five and Dime, Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean. There's not much exciting me in the world of politics today. John Kerry may or may not have had an affair? Yawn. There are plenty of reasons not to vote for Kerry, but I don't think that's one of them. I wouldn't refuse to hire a man who had cheated on his wife, if I thought he were more qualified for the job than a man who hadn't. Would you?

So, as I always say, when you can't think of anything good to write about, show a kitty picture. This picture is one where Emma has decided that I don't really want to use that pesky keyboard anyway. It also has the benefit of having the almighty Barnabas bobblehead in the background. Feel the power of the Barnabas bobblehead.

Friday Cat Blogging

A congruence of events leads me to participate in Friday Cat Blogging today.

• It's Friday.
  
• I can't think of anything else to blog about.
  
• My Mom sent me a picture of their cat, Marmelade, taken with the digital camera we bought my Dad for his birthday.

  

• A funny thing happened with one of my cats, Jane, yesterday. I was taking a shower. Jane was in her usual spot, between the shower curtain and the liner, when suddenly I feel a big furry lump at my feet. Yes, she fell into the bathtub. Surprisingly she did not freak out and start scratching and clawing, frantically trying to get out of the hated water. She merely calmly walked to the end of the tub and jumped out. She then proceeded to clean herself. Too bad she hadn't let me know in advance that she wanted to take a shower. I'd have let her use some of my cinnamon-scented body wash.

Friday Cat Blogging

I really don't ever participate in Friday Cat Blogging, but I'm going to do it this week. But I'm doing it with a little spin. I'm not posting a picture of one of my cats. I'm posting a colored pencil painting my father did of an Egyptian mau. BTW, I think the Egyptian word for cat - mau - is easily the most intelligent word for cat in any language. Where does the word "cat" come from? It's obvious where the term "mau" is derived from. But "cat"? Eh?

Marmelade

Still suffering from blogger's block. So how about another kitty picture? But to change things up this time, I am not posting a picture of one of my cats, but of my parents' cat, Marmelade.

Oh the Weather Outside Is Frightful

But the slipcover and laptop are so delightful.

A View from the Window

The lump in the middle of the couch is Emma sleeping under the slipcover

Jane considers getting her own blog

Picture Time

I'm a little drained after going through all those entries for Voices, so I'm going to keep things simple and post pictures that make me happy.

Emma, while I was packing my old apartment to move into my new one, decided she liked the empty wardrobe unit.

Jane in her absolute favorite position - sleeping in a ball of kitty fur.

Two items from the hideous amount of Bobbi Brown makeup I ordered last week. The deep eye and lip palette and the neutral eye and lip palette.

Two Kinds of Queens

It's time for catblogging again. Today we have Jane and Emma both making appearances as queens.

Jane in her red boa (Okay, my red boa that I got when I went to see "The Rocky Horror Show" on Broadway).

Emma as queen of all she surveys.

Kitty Pictures

You can just never go wrong with kitty pictures. (Shut up, all you cat haters.) Today's theme - Cleanliness is next to godliness.

First we have Emma bathing herself:

Then we have Jane in her usual position when I shower. Watching me like I'm some kind of water-loving freak:

Talk With the Animals

Takara Co., a Japanese toymaker, unveiled a new product that translates a cat's meow into Japanese - The Meowlingual. What cat owner requires such a device, though? It is usually crystal clear what your cat is trying to tell you - "You exist to serve me."

Moving Day

Yesterday was moving day, and what a hassle it was. I'm exhausted. But forget about me. Adding more to the claim that cats are of no use in moving was Emma freaking out after the place was emptied of stuff. I had kept her and Jane in the bathroom while the movers were doing their thing. Didn't want them sauntering out the front door and deciding to take a stroll down First Avenue or something. Once I let her out, she goes to the living room, stands stock still, ears completely perked up, eyes as wide as saucers, turning her head frantically from left to right. She then runs into the bedroom and proceeds with the same act. Repeat 10 or so times. I guess she figured that maybe the next time she walked into the room, the stuff would magically reappear. After it dawned on her that it just wasn't coming back, she started stalking around hissing at random, an action she has not ceased since we got to my friend's apartment.

Jane, on the other hand, took a far more sensible approach to the whole thing. After doing the Emma thing a couple of times, she decided it just wasn't worth it and went back to hiding in the bathtub. Since arriving at my friend's, she has holed up in the back of the closet, emerging only for the occasional snack and bathroom break. She may be the original scaredy-cat, but she is more well-adjusted.

I imagine we'll get a repeat of the Emma performance once arriving at the new apartment on next Thursday. Jane will, of course, find the furthest hiding place. It's always a challenge to locate her when moving. In one apartment, she managed to hide under the back of the refrigerator. Given her considerable girth, this was quite the feat. In the last place, she decided behind the stove was the place to be, until I cut off her access point. Then it was off to the closet for her.

Hep Cat

Jane wants everyone to know what a big Yankees fan she is.

Pet Blogging Day

Jay and Jane have the pet blogging entry up. Many cute pets. Many cute stories. No pets as cute as Emma and Jane, of course, but they're tough acts to follow.

A preview of the two cutest kitties:

Emma

Jane Eyre

What's Up Pussycat?

Jay and Jane of The Daily Rant are going to be hosting a Pet Blogging Day on April 14th (entries requested by April 13th). Rules copied from The Daily Rant and listed below. Jane and Emma will be making an appearance.

There are rules for this little project, so please be sure to follow them in order to have your pet included!

1. If you have one pet, you can send a maximum of one picture. If you have more than one pet, you can send a maximum of 2 pictures. That's it.

2. Picture sizes must be kept to a maximum resolution of 400 X 300. That means your picture can have a maximum width of 400 pixels and length of 300 pixels. That's about 3 inches across and 2.5 down. Remember, we have server size limitations and we can't be loading pics that are 1.5MB in size and we don't have time to edit your pictures. Now we're not going to reject something that is 401 pixels wide so please use the numbers there as a guide - but a strict guide.

3. We need to know the names of the pet(s) and how you chose that name.

4. We need to know how you got said pet(s).

That's it!

Send your submissions to the following email address:

pets@jaycaruso.com

Cat Blogging

I went out and bought me a nifty digital camera today. Of course the first two pictures I took with it were of my cats, Emma and Jane Eyre (Jane for short).

Emma

Jane