As promised, outside time last night.  AH took me out, so I had to be on my best behavior.  Got some fresh grass - because of the rain - and did a bit of ’sploring.

Pictures, you ask?  Why, of course.

This is an area under the dinner deck.  It’s kinda out of the way and AH uses it to store some things.  Like our old skylights.  Not sure why they’re still there after all these years, but a quick sniff reveals nothing new.

The front area of the yard.  Notice the lean physique, the shiny coat, the ready tail.  Admit it. You can’t take your eyes off me.  Yet, you must.  No.  Really.  Let’s move on.

You’ve seen this area before, but I wanted to provide you an action shot.  OK.  A near action shot.  I’m gettin’ ready to make the leap onto the ties.  And of course, followed by chinrub.

OK.  If you can’t tell by my obvious body language, this is Danger Zone - or close to it.  It’s at the top of the driveway and everything leans to one side because of the Earth’s gravitational pull.  OK.  Not really.  I’m on a hill and everything else is flat.

I wanted to go a bit further - out into the cul-de-sac - by a nagging voice inside my head suggested I shouldn’t.  That’s it.  A nagging voice inside my head.  Had nothing to do with the external voice threatening me eternal damnation if I stepped another foot in the wrong direction.

Lastly, this isn’t just the Danger Zone, but a peek into the Forbidden Zone.  About all those times I”ve talked about wandering over into the neighbor yard?  This is it.  The Path to Trouble.

Now, honestly.  You can see how easy it would be, right?  I mean, it’s Right.  There.  There’s no fence.  Just a bit of brush, and then a clearing.  And see that umbrella above those steps?  I’ve been beyond that.  Once.  Bigus Troublis on that trip.

Anyway.  We came in shortly after this shot because it was getting dark and the only thing I could’ve done beyond this would be to get into trouble.   And besides … you can see I get around pretty good, so why push it.

Hey.  It’s Friday!  Whoo! Hoo!!  Have a great weeked - and it’s a long weekend, at that - and I’ll see you Tuesday.

The Wumpus

I’ve got nothing to say today except yesterday’s weather was much better, and I’m back on my normal routine.  Funny how a change in weather changes your sleep patterns, huh.

Oh, and I wanted to go outside last night but was rebuffed.  Apparently it was still too wet … like I can’t be the judge of that.  In any case, I was promised outside time this evening and they’re usually good on their promises.

Lastly - and this strictly has to deal with AH.  He’s happy today.  Yes.  That is worth mentioning anytime he’s happy.  Seems college football gets underway tonight.  Now, Webster has yet to come up with a word that accurately describes just how little I care about that.  But him?  It’s like he’s got wetfood, outdoor grass and railroad tie chinrub wrapped up all into one package.  Get a life, dude.

That’s it for a Thursday.  Have a great day, and if you missed yesterday’s post about the Caboodle Ranch, check it out.  I donated a bit of my wetfood allowance through PayPal, so it’s pretty easy to do.  Just sayin’.

See you tomorrow.

The Wumpus

Strange day yesterday, and I blame the weather.  See, normally after I finish my post here in the morning, I’ll grab a bite to eat and then either nab some sunspot or take a nap.  I’ll then spend the rest of the morning napping, bugging AH in his office and scoring bits of vittles.  Then I’ll bed down a little bit before Noon and sleep for the rest of the afternoon until AH heads downstairs or FP comes home.  But not yesterday.

I bugged AH at least a half dozen times.  Sat in my office window three times - something I may do once a week.  And when I did take a nap, it was downstairs in the basement.  Twice.  That’s where I normally nap during the winter months.  So, yes.  I’m guessing the switch from sunshine to dark, dank, pouring down rain and upper 50s triggered the Winter Gene in my body and set me off kilter.  Katty wumpus, as it were.

Anyway.  Today is supposed to be back to normal, so we’ll see how it goes.

OK.  Yesterday I mentioned a cat shelter that’s been brought to my attention.  Now normally this gets my Spidey Sense up because of all the stories I’ve read about hoarding and shelters gone wrong.  But after a bit of review, this appears to be on the up and up.  And it’s amazing.  It’s called Caboodle Ranch.

Apparently, this human, Craig, used to not like cats - as if! - and lived in a small condominium.  He then got exposed to his son’s kittens, and everything changed.  He bought a large chunk of property out in the woods, and now spends all of his time taking care of the cats.  Lots of cats.

Just looking by the picture, they all appear to be healthy, in good shape and having a great time.  According to the human, all cats have been spayed or neutered, all shots are kept up to date and regular visits to the vet for each of them.  And as we know, that’s a good thing.  A very good thing.

Here’s a link to the background story, and the gallery home page.  There’s a donation button on the main page, as well as links to more and more pictures.  Take a moment to look around.  I did, and even found a cat who looks just like me.  I’m not jealous because I have my own trails, outdoor property and I’m taken care of like a King.  In fact, I’d probably get a little put out if I wasn’t the center of attention all the time.

But this?  What a great story by a human doing wonderful things for cats.

The Wumpus

Well, I learned one thing about yesterday’s post … I shouldn’t make fun of FP.   You’d think I’d recognize that beforehand when mocking somebody named the Food Provider.  But no.  Especially when her other nickname - like last night - could be the Outdoor Provider.

Yes.  I wanted to go out.  No.  I wasn’t let out.  She thought I needed to be taught a lesson.  Feh.

Oh, AH you ask?  Where was he to help me out?  You’re kidding, right?

Another thing regarding yesterday’s post - somebody asked about the title.  Gretel Adams Photography.  Well, Ansel Adams was a great photographer, right?  So, who is Gretel Adams?  Nobody, as far as I know.  But think about it for a second.  Ansel?  Gretel?

I know.  FP didn’t appreciate it, either.

On the other hand, I did get a bit of a treat last night.  Seems Tommy Human - the neighbor next door where I sometimes wander - went out and caught some fish.  And he brought some over for me to eat.  OK.  Not me, but AH and FP.  Well, FP had some for dinner and gave me a sliver to see if I’d like some fresh salmon.  Now, what do you think?  Of course I liked it.  A bit rich, so I suspect that’s my last bit … but good stuff for sure.

Lastly today, a regular reader sent in a group of pictures about a cat sanctury.  At first glance, it looks to be quite the operation.  I did a bit of checking around to make sure it wasn’t fake - or worse, in trouble in the news like the whole Tiger Ranch debacle.  Well, it looks to be legit and I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.  See you then.

The Wumpus

It’s Monday!  Whoo!  Hoo!

OK.  That was completely unnecessary, wasn’t it.

I had a fine weekend.  Got outside on Saturday, and simply sat on one of the railroad ties to enjoy a late-summer evening while FP and AH puttered around the yard.  AH had a sprinkler going and that meant I was nowhere near it.  So I sat and enjoyed a mild breeze blowing and all the scents and smells that came with it.

Did a little bit of sniffing and ’sploring, and it’s been awhile since I’ve posted a few photos … so here we go.

This is in one of the upper beds in the front yard.  Notice how it looks like I kinda have a collar?  Nope.  It’s a plant.  There was a bit of grass here, but not much.  So, on we go.

Ah.  Some flowers.  I’ve been here before earlier in the summer … when there were bees all over the place.  Bees and I have an agreement.  I leave them alone, and they stay off my nose.  So far, it’s a good arrangement.

You’ll also take note of FP’s mad photo skillz (again).  Notice how the subject - me - is centered in the photo?  Yeah.  Me, neither.

Lastly, I found a slug.  Slugs and I have a similar agreement as the bees.  I pretty much leave them alone and they don’t slime my nose.  Agreed?  Agreed.  Once again, you’ll notice how FP cut off half of my body without showing the actual slug.  You must admit, that’s quite the trick.  There’s a reason why she’s the FP and not the OPOWC (Official Photographer of Wumpus Central), and you’re looking at it.

That’s it for a Monday.  Have a great day, and a wonderful week.  Apparently a lot of you are heading back to school, and are visiting me again after taking the summer off.  Welcome back, and have a great school year.  See you tomorrow.

The Wumpus

Well, the week is done and contrary to my suspicions on Monday, I wasn’t taken to the vet this week.  Apparently my radar is off.  Now, that doesn’t mean a trip isn’t in store for me in the near future … because I know it has to be done with me getting older and all that.  Just because it has to be done doesn’t mean I have to like it.  And I won’t.

OK.  I trust you saw yesterday’s post.   If you haven’t seen the video at the link, take a second to do so.  Now, I was going to lay out a pretty good screed, but why ruin a Friday with that?  And really.  If a middle-aged woman is going to be walking along the street, stop to pet an obviously friendly cat who’s hurting no one and enjoying the warmth and attention … and then decides to pick up that cat and throw it into the trash can and walk away?  What could I possibly say that I haven’t said already.  Other than, just what in the hell is wrong with some of you humans?

Listen.  I know there are humans who don’t like cats.  I get that.  AH was raised a dog person and it took some time to get him to come around to my side of the  debate.  But even when he didn’t much care for cats, he certainly didn’t go around harming them.  Nor would he put up with somebody else who did.  He sometimes talks about the good ol’ days of ‘Frontier Justice’, and how that would solve a lot of the nonsense going on in your ‘civilization’.  I don’t know if he’s right or wrong, but whether it’s animal abuse or human abuse, you can’t keep going on like this.  You just can’t.

OK.  I promised no screed, and I pretty much kept that promise.  Know why?  Because it’s a Friday!  Whoo! Hoo!

It’s kinda chilly this morning, thus continuing Extremes Summer 2010!!  But there is a bit of sunspot.  I’ll grab it and then crawl under my favorite blanket for a bit of snooze.  It’s garbage day today which means a loud truck comes rumbling through in a couple hours.  I’ll resist the obvious and wish you a happy weekend instead.  See you on Monday.

The Wumpus

I need to be quick today because AH is swapping out computers, or something like that.  It’s office stuff and I have no idea … except he’s telling me to step it up.

I mentioned something yesterday that’s gotten quite a bit of attention both in the pet community and on Facebook.  I normally hesitate to discuss these things for a simple reason - they depress me.  But since it’s out there, I’ll give you a snippet of what’s going on, follow the link and I’ll have more to say tomorrow.  See you then.

The Wumpus

Cat Gets Tossed Away for Being Nice

It’s making front page news. A woman in Coventry, England is walking along nonchalantly when she comes across a cat standing on a wall near a garbage bin. She pets the cat nicely and the loving feline responds by walking closer - and then the unthinkable (for cat lovers anyway) - the woman scruffs the cat by the back of the neck and tosses it casually into the garbage bin and closes the lid before walking off as if she had done nothing. All of it was caught on the cat owner’s security video tape.

Full story here.

Well, I got into a bit of trouble last night.  Not so much that I received any punishment, but enough worth mentioning.

AH let me outside - and as I’ve mentioned before - I’m a completely different cat when he lets me out as opposed to FP watching me.  Don’t ask me why.  I just am.  Anyway, I was out and he was puttering around on the other side of the house … watering plants, setting up the sprinkler … stuff like that.  So, what did I do?  Yep.  Wandered over to the neighbor’s yard.  (I’ll take a picture - maybe today - just so you can see how easy it is.)  So, there I was.  Past the brush area where I’ve found some grass and I’m approaching the neighbor’s deck.  And here comes AH.

Now in the past, I’ve been scooped up and immediately brought back inside the house.  But this time?  He tells me to stop.  I do.  He snaps his fingers, and tells me to get back over here.  He’s - maybe - 15 feet away, and takes one more step towards me.  So, what do I do?  I start trotting towards him, go past him standing there, work my way through the low brush and hop onto the rock wall and then onto a railroad tie that marks my garden.

See?  I was here all along.  Pay no attention to the mirage you thought you just saw.  And he bought it.  Gave me a pap on the backside, picked me up and moved me to the flower beds in the picture I posted yesterday.  And that was that.  Got some chinrub.  Did a bit of mousing in an upper bed, and then came back inside.

Now, I don’t know how this is going to play out in the future.  I know I’m not supposed to go over to the neighbor yard, but I can’t help it.  AH warns me they have a couple of dogs over there.  Maybe an encounter with one of them will cure me.  And then again, maybe not.  Heh.

Have a great day, and I’ll see you tomorrow.  There’s a story out there I’ve been wondering about discussing, and it’s gone ‘viral’ as the kidz say.  Lemme think about it.

The Wumpus

Quick post today because the sun is shining.  And it’s going to be a great day.  Not too hot.  Not too cold.  Just right … and we haven’t had many of those days this summer.  It’s been 60 degrees one weekend, 95 degrees the next.  But I digress.

Got some nice outside time last night.  Did a bit of grassing, not much ’sploring and then sat on FP’s lap for quite some time just relaxing and listening to the water fountain.  It’s funny.  Three years ago I wasn’t allowed outside except if on a leash.  Then we went with my harness.  Now?  Inside is just the same as outside.  No harness.  No nothing.  Just open the door and out I go.  Sure, they keep an eye on me and I’m not allowed to wander off the property.  But considering how I spent the first 11 years of my life?  I’ll take this, thank you very much.

Finally, a shot from my office window looking down on yours truly.

And you wonder why I like railroad tie chinrub so much.  It’s everywhere, I tell you.

Have a great day, and I’ll see you tomorrow.

The Wumpus

A couple of things this morning.  First of all, it’s a Monday.  Ugh.  Normally I’m not bad on a Monday because I have no job.  But considering my post on Friday,  I’ve got a bad feeling about this week.  No.  They’re not telling me specifically if I’m going to the vet - nor is my carrier out - but I’ve got a feeling.  A sixth sense, you might say.

Second, not a bad weekend, overall.  Got a little bit of outside time last night, but certainly not enough.  I won’t go into all the details here, but AH was making dinner and FP thought she might take me out since I was squawking about something.  AH suggested it was a bad idea, but she took me out anyway.  True to form, it was a bad idea since I showed her up and took off.  She had to track me down, and took me back inside immediately.

I don’t know why I do that.  No, not taking off.  But proving AH correct at FP’s expense.  Maybe I’ll learn not to bite the hand that feeds me.  Heh.  Who am I kidding.

Speaking of having a sixth sense, check this out.  Now to be honest, my BS detector is perking up just a bit … but why would good humans like this make up these stories?  They wouldn’t.  So, enjoy.  If everything they say is true, it’s amazing.

Nine lives, sixth sense: Cat at veterinary clinic seeks out ailing cats
By Diana Samuels - Daily News Staff Writer

All cats may have nine lives, but Christopher, an orange and white tabby who lives at a Redwood City veterinary clinic, also has a sixth sense.

Dubbing him a “guardian angel,” “wonder cat” and “miracle kitty,” the staff and volunteers at the Nine Lives Foundation’s Feline Well-Care Clinic say Christopher can tell when other cats need help. He will sit outside the cages of sick felines until someone lets him in, and last month, the clinic says, he saved the life of a kitten in need of a blood transfusion.

“It’s weird, it’s really true that he seems to understand things,” said Monica Thompson, Nine Lives’ chief veterinarian and founder. “He knows when he can help. He alerts us when things aren’t right about a cat.”

Now, I’ve heard - and written about cats - who have this knack when it comes to humans.  But with other cats?  That’s awesome.

Christopher, who is about 3 or 4 years old, was found on the side of a road by a group of bicyclists in March. He arrived at the clinic unable to stand, his pelvis fractured.

He recuperated, and one day simply jumped out of his cage while it was being cleaned.

Since then, Christopher has lived at the clinic. On Wednesday morning he snoozed in his favorite cat bed on a desk, ignoring the hustle and bustle around him.

As is typical for Christopher, he was napping next to a terminally ill cat.

“He’ll often paw at a cage door to be let in so he can clean and comfort a cat in there,” said Robert Lowery, a San Ramon resident and volunteer at Nine Lives.

He even became known as the “feral kitten tamer” last month, when he asked to be let into a cage with two feral kittens that were “untouchable, just hissing and growling,” Thompson said.

Christopher taught the kittens all about being a cat, and within a couple of weeks they were tame. One has since been adopted, and the other is still available.

“The kittens were so excited to see (Christopher) that when he left the cage they would sit and cry,” Thompson said.

I can’t confirm rumors Christopher wears a cape and has a large ‘S’ and ‘C’ on his chest.  But it wouldn’t surprise me … especially if this is all on the up-and-up.

But Christopher’s biggest claim to fame is likely saving the life of a tiny black kitten that came to the clinic July 11 with severe anemia. She needed a blood transfusion immediately, and Thompson couldn’t draw enough to even determine her blood type.

“I didn’t know what I was going to do,” Thompson said.

Christopher kept jumping up on the operating table, rubbing on Thompson and nuzzling the kitten. So Thompson grabbed Christopher and used his blood for the transfusion.

Thompson didn’t know it at the time, but the kitten had a rare “B” blood type found in about 20 to 25 percent of the cat population. It’s also a blood type usually found in purebred cats, Thompson said, so she wouldn’t have expected to find it in the black shorthair kitten.

As it turned out, Christopher also has Type B blood. The kitten was standing up within about four hours of the transfusion, Thompson said, and has since gone back to Humanimal Connection, the rescue foundation that was caring for her.

“If I hadn’t paid attention to (Christopher) I probably would have lost the cat,” Thompson said.

Though many people have inquired about adopting Christopher, Thompson said, he “serves a purpose” at the clinic.

“Who knows how many cats he’ll save in the years ahead,” Lowery said.

Now, I’m not sure why the vet jumped to the conclusion of tapping into Christopher’s blood because it does seem a bit far-fetched.  But you know what?  I have no idea why humans would make this up … especially since they have no interest in adopting him out.  And you know what again?  Let’s just take them at their word and enjoy a great story about an amazing cat.  I mean, who knows?

That’s it for a Monday.  Have a great day, and I’ll see you tomorrow.

The Wumpus