tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59719346623055692912024-02-20T09:39:22.557-05:00One Fat Cat With a BlogA Daily Chronicle of My Nine LivesFrito the Fat Cat Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526736663260424802noreply@blogger.comBlogger57125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971934662305569291.post-81221990063265962342012-10-17T09:16:00.005-04:002012-10-17T09:16:56.591-04:00Frito's Wordless Wednesday Point of ViewThought I would take a look at things from a different point of view for an almost Wordless Wednesday post.<br />
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and I have decided......</div>
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....that the dog still looks stupid</div>
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How is your Wednesday?</div>
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I decided to try a blog hoppy thing today....linking up over at <a href="http://www.amamascorneroftheworld.com/2012/10/mamas-wordless-wednesday-link-up-week-1.html">A Mama's Corner of the World</a>...I may even get to post more than once a year now that the crazy cat lady has left the computer un-password protected. </div>
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See you tomorrow?</div>
Frito the Fat Cat Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526736663260424802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971934662305569291.post-82414265501777694392012-02-07T13:11:00.003-05:002012-02-07T13:52:33.260-05:00Security in the House of FritoOkay--why do most human morons buy a dog? Dogs are personal protectors, right? Hmmpf. I guess the people that use dogs for property protection have never met OUR dog. See Max, the Face of Stupid, is a useless pound hound who's afraid of his own shadow....and the garbage truck...and the garage door...and black hooded sweatshirts...and, oh, yeah, Gina--the five pound cat. OOOOOH! It's a scary world here in Frito Land. I only bring this up because the humans had four perfectly happy cats--then they adopted a dog, for which we can only assume was for protection, and NOW they are talking about needing a security system... <br /><br /><strong><em>WHAT?</em></strong> Our cat food budget does not allow for an expensive security system!<br /><br />Could someone explain to me why we need this flea carrying, slobber wielding, vaccuum powered snout of a hound dog if the humans think they need an alarm system? He's stupid, he smells, he needs a sitter, he can't go outside by himself, and he sleeps at least 23 hours a day.<br /><br />Oh, I get it now...we only <strong><em>really</em></strong> need a security system for the twenty three hours that the face of stupid sleeps. Oh, God...I just realized something--rather than bemoaning the cost of a security system--I should embrace it. The alternative is 23 other worthless pound hounds working one hour security shifts in the House of Frito. <br /><br />Okay--time to get some security company recommendations. What do you know about security monitoring companies that are sensitive to lean cat food budgets?Frito the Fat Cat Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526736663260424802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971934662305569291.post-42156282483188611552012-01-09T09:07:00.001-05:002012-01-09T09:09:21.281-05:00WHAT THEY CAN DO NOWThanks to Olga Quinn<br /><br />I looked into getting a security system for our home. I called <a href="http://www.securitychoice.com/adt-home-security/New-York/R/Rochester/">rochester ADT</a> and decided to set up an appointment for next week. My sister in law and brother recently got one installed. They were teasing me and telling me that I needed to bring myself into the 21st century. When I went over to their house, they showed me all of the things that the alarm system did other than just having a loud siren. It actually was wired and would call the police if it went off. It has glass break alarms and fire alarms that call the <a href="http://monterey.org/en-us/departments/fire.aspx">fire department</a>. It has motion detectors for the evening when everyone is asleep. There are also panic buttons on the key pad, that if for some reason you can’t get to the phone for some reason that you can call emergency services at the click of a button. Alarm systems have come a long way since they first started being put in homes. We are looking forward to getting ours.Frito the Fat Cat Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526736663260424802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971934662305569291.post-36758870348354546502012-01-09T08:46:00.003-05:002012-01-09T09:05:44.760-05:00New Year Resolution Time in the House of FritoMy New Year's Resolutions are a tadinsky bit late this year. (Blame human with thumbs rather than big boned city kitty for said delay--as usual.) As most of you know--the crazy human lady (the one with the thumbs in this writing team) asks that all of the resident cats rethink our wasting of our nine lives at least once a year in a thoughtful, motivational post. How will old Frito be the best cat he can be in 2012?<br /><br /><strong>Develop a love/hate relationship with a new vet</strong>. Most of you have heard my rants and raves over the big boned city vet who enjoys poking fun at my Maine Coon physique. Well--sadly enough the vet who has been the brunt of my own fat jokes and dietary dribble has left the building. She moved to an office across town--and, as much as I hate to admit it, I miss her. Now I have to break in a new guy (who doesn't seem to find the humor in my sense of humor) and he has so little personality that I have yet to find a marketable/bloggable character flaw. Rest assured--there is not a human alive of which Frito cannot make fun. I'm sure after a visit or two, he'll give me plenty of blogging material for the rest of my nine lives. As for my old vet--we both lost a lot of weight last year. I would like to think we motivated each other...of course I do think dropping her litter of humanoids helped her a lot more than canned mouse ears helped me--but, nonetheless--we are both healthier for our efforts.<br /><br /><strong>Continue my weight loss plan.</strong> Yes, I'm still eating the diet torture in a bag—simply because it keeps me peeing like a kitten. You know what else? I think I have found some canned cat food that I can swallow! It's not half bad--as long as they keep the fishy stuff off my plate.<br /><br /><strong>I will exercise.</strong> As I said last year--if I don’t stay in shape, how can I beat the crap out of one floppy eared pound hound on a daily basis? I may dislike exercise—but, I LOATHE that floppy eared pound hound. Bring on the milk ring fetching game. Frito’s still in training--just don't throw it down the stairs...I said I'm in training...not suicidal!<br /><br /><strong>I will be nice to Max the Dog.</strong> (Yes, this is a human imposed New Year's Resolution for the cat) This was on the list last year...didn't happen then...not likely to happen now. Okay—I will be nice unless I catch him looking at me, or at Fluff or the girls. If he barks, I’ll bash him. If he wags that hound dog tail, I’ll bash him. If he breathes in my presence, I’ll bash him. I’m only so strong. I am just one cat. I am willing to let him sleep in the human's bed with me now--as long as he stays in his opposite corner. That counts for something right?<br /><br /><strong>I will refrain from swatting the old folks.</strong> Yes--this is a repeat from last year too. It seems that I have been labeled by the GrandHumans as unfriendly—even intimidating. I would not be intimidating if they would not try to pet me, touch me, goo-goo/gaa-gaa at me or walk within 6 feet of me. Is this so hard to understand? In an effort to regain my kitty charm, I agree to refrain swatting the feeble except on the occasional third Sunday of the month. They don’t visit as often, so this should increase their odds of a swat free weekend. I may even let the loud Grandpa human pet me a couple of times before I bite him. Fair trade, right?<br /><br /><strong>I, Frito T. Cat, will still NEVER eat a mouse.</strong> (In case human with thumbs forgot this little detail of our relationship.) This is more of an admission than a resolution--but, it is time that I stand up for my convictions. In the past, the humans have requested that I catch a mouse. I refuse. I now openly refuse. I am a passive kitty. I love peace. I love harmony. I may eat the occasional bug or butterfly—but, a mouse. EEWWWW.<br /><br />The crazy cat lady will likely give me some secondary, “personal reflection” assignment again this year—but, until then, these are my 2012 New Year's Resolutions. As I've said before, at least the face of stupid doesn’t have a blog…boy that would offer some though provoking reading….Bubba says this…Bubba says that…blah blah blah…duh duh duh.<br /><br />Okay, cat pals--what resolutions do you wish to accomplish this year?Frito the Fat Cat Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526736663260424802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971934662305569291.post-14948590929168308702011-12-09T07:23:00.003-05:002011-12-09T07:34:37.242-05:00One Fat Cat with a Blog Disclosure PolicyOkay, cat pals--although I'm publicly blogging, I didn't see the need to add a disclosure policy to One Fat Cat with a Blog. Well, I'm beginning to have some advertisers interested in what I have to say--and in marketing to those who sometimes listen to my ramblings. And--a cat's "gotta" eat, right? So--Here is my statement about advertisements, paid posts, reviews, and money making on One Fat Cat with a Blog.<br /><br />I accept paid advertisers--and use sites like Google AdSense, Amazon Affiliates to generate revenue on this site.<br /><br />I will sometimes accept complimentary or discounted items to review--but, in true Frito fashion, free doesn't change my opinion. If a product should be in the litter box--I will tell you. If I like it--or the parent humans like it--I'll tell you. My opinions are my own and are not really for sale.<br /><br />I will sometimes write paid or sponsored posts with links to advertisers websites. Again--paying me doesn't make me like your site--and my readers will only see these posts if I would recommend the site without payment. (The extra $$ just helps ensure a steady stream of salmon cat treats and blueberry muffins!)<br /><br />So--that's my disclosure statement and advertising policy. If you would like to advertise on One Fat Cat with a Blog, <a href="mailto:%20fritoandthegirls@earthlink.net">send me note </a>and I will run it by the humans.Frito the Fat Cat Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526736663260424802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971934662305569291.post-3438749134946920962011-12-09T07:08:00.007-05:002011-12-09T07:23:46.201-05:00Frito T. Cat has Ditched the High Calorie Cat Food<div>In case you haven’t noticed the “fat cat blogging” string of human alphabet characters on my blog url….I, Frito T. Cat, once had something of a weight problem. In fact, for 4 of my 10 years, I was berated and downright ridiculed by a vet, albeit a somewhat portly vet—but, a vet nonetheless, for my Maine Coon and beyond physique. Well—as many of you know—the Diet Police—a.k.a. the psycho mom-human put me on a vet inspired diet. Frito T. Cat suffered diet drama for several years--all in the name of good health and yada, yada, yada…blah, blah, blah. Well—I’m here to tell you—I have finally dropped 4 of my 24 pounds. I have officially ditched the <a href="http://pets.become.com/cat-food-high-calorie">high calorie cat food</a> habit once and for all. I may have even gained a life or two since I’m lighter and a lean, mean, Frito machine.<br /><br /><strong>How did this cat lose weight?</strong> Well—my favorite vet—the one who sympathizes with us big boned city kitties rather than criticizing us (like some big boned vets who remain unmentioned but always on my hit list)—suggested that I avoid high calorie cat food and try some low carbohydrate options with higher, more cat friendly protein ratios. We gave it a shot—although I was pretty particular about my fast-food-grade cat food. After a while, Fluff, the girls and I actually craved the healthy, high protein stuff. It was amazing. We could eat half of the amount of the healthy stuff as the <a href="http://pets.become.com/cat-food-high-calorie">high calorie cat food</a> and be full—but, when we ran out of the “healthy” food; we were starving all the time! Psycho mom lady and economist dad even realized the HEALTHY food was more cost effective in the long run because we ate less and I had fewer, “help, I’m in the litter box and I can’t pee” inspired trips to the vet.<br /><br /><strong>Frito T. Cat says wet food isn’t really canned mouse ears.</strong> Yeah—I wonder if the affinity toward canned food doesn’t come with age because I absolutely hated the stuff when I was a youngster! I’m still not a fan of the weird fishy gruel-in-a-can—but, bring on the lamb and turkey! The vet said wet cat food was good for my urinary tract (to which the crazy mom human insists on constantly drawing attention) –but I gagged at the sight of a plate of it.<br /><br />So, cat pals, the moral of Frito’s story is….sometimes you can skip the <a href="http://pets.become.com/cat-food-high-calorie">high calorie cat food </a>for some healthier options and regain a few of those lost nine lives. Check out <a href="http://www.become.com/">Become.com</a> (crazy human lady just discovered them and economist dad is pretty excited about the prices) for some of your healthier cat food needs---the rest of your nine lives really does depend on it. If this fat cat with a blog can shed some pounds…you can too. </div>Frito the Fat Cat Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526736663260424802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971934662305569291.post-90545842924781485152011-09-14T19:01:00.005-04:002011-09-14T19:14:25.961-04:005 Reasons Frito T Cat Hates Road Trips<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9XLmJrJzYGGuRAHXWRZypgRa5QuzsH87BAcA_V-TX9uZDoZnWVBwYlV1niihyCnQ-TfJn1OABmKVZXj2PLhengaiK73sMguZdIfWbzm0MAgIeCN9YbxK5-NP537tESLp4nsz-7u0Ozg/s1600/african+fi+sxchu.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 133px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652356813729849826" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9XLmJrJzYGGuRAHXWRZypgRa5QuzsH87BAcA_V-TX9uZDoZnWVBwYlV1niihyCnQ-TfJn1OABmKVZXj2PLhengaiK73sMguZdIfWbzm0MAgIeCN9YbxK5-NP537tESLp4nsz-7u0Ozg/s200/african+fi+sxchu.jpg" /></a><br />Okay—I’ll admit it. There were times when I used to get a little jealous when the humans would pack up the Face of Stupid (aka Max the Hound Dog) and take him away to places unknown for a few hours…or even a few days. They still do it a lot—and sometimes it seems a little unfair—but, in the end I think Fluff, the Girls and I are better off to NOT be packed along on little outdoor road trip adventures. Let me tell you why.<br /><br /><strong>Road trips require a trip outside.</strong> I am Frito T. Cat—Watch Cat Extraordinaire of the INSIDE world. I’m a housecat. The outside world is generally too hot, too cold, too wet, too dark, too bright, too windy, too smelly, too loud, or just too darned scary. Avoid road trips…avoid the outside…be one happy house cat.<br /><br /><strong>Road trips generally do not end in fun-filled destinations.</strong> Have you ever noticed that when cats get a road trip—it sure isn’t for a fun filled day at the beach? My trips have ended at the vet, the boarding kennel, Grandma’s house, the groomer (sad, sad day that was) or at the home of yet another stupid dog….or some traumatic combo of all of the above. All roads seem to lead to non-cat friendly activities. I would rather skip the drama.<br /><br /><strong>Cats are often misunderstood.</strong> Grandma is scared of Frito. (Really? SHE is scared of ME? Hmmm.) Cats “tear up the furniture” (yeah…and tooth filled, snout of stupid just sniffs it, right?), cats “smell” (there’s no such thing as wet cat smell…dogs on the other hand…hmmm), litterbox duties put many off (how about pooper scooper duties for a 50 pound hound dog), and cats prefer to be left alone….well, maybe the stupid humans got that one right. Even if the human’<br /><br /><strong>The Face of Stupid gets carsick.</strong> Once again, my humans managed to find the one defective hound dog in the pound. Has anyone ever seen a dog, let alone a HOUND DOG, that doesn’t like to ride in cars or trucks? EVER? Well, we have one…one that hacks up his breakfast in the minute car ride to the vet. Yep..I really want to be in the car with a sack full of dog yack for miles.<br /><br /><strong>When the family takes a road trip—the cats are really the ones that get a vacation.</strong> See, when my family goes away…I get my blanket back…I get my room back…I get to roam the house…I get to sleep on the dining room table…I get to eat cat food in the little kids’ bed, I get to sleep in the laundry basket. Most importantly, I do not get carried around the house, I do not play dress up..or Baby Frito or any other demeaning game…I can let my guard down because the Face of Stupid cannot stay home alone for long. All in all..if I avoid road trip vacations, I truly get a vacation in the end.<br /><br />So, if you cats out there are getting bummed about being constantly left behind while the family takes off—take a few minutes to think things through. I bet you have 5 good reasons why cats hate road trips as well!Frito the Fat Cat Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526736663260424802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971934662305569291.post-52133726396356421322011-09-06T08:55:00.002-04:002011-09-06T08:58:42.622-04:00Frito T. Cat’s Bucket List<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjal2aUK_LWvO4SbZHC9OncY8jswwCBOtxwpcIY0aZrYI0UKeXfvRQYM-YJVb6RzBfsh1xzZHYLAvrnULqi2UyuhqO9g4sJULX6gKf95JQPFIpCa8Hc2GRK5OcpHVciRcQVJ-L3p7myCA/s1600/napping+table.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjal2aUK_LWvO4SbZHC9OncY8jswwCBOtxwpcIY0aZrYI0UKeXfvRQYM-YJVb6RzBfsh1xzZHYLAvrnULqi2UyuhqO9g4sJULX6gKf95JQPFIpCa8Hc2GRK5OcpHVciRcQVJ-L3p7myCA/s200/napping+table.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5649230090539330322" /></a><br />I just got a cutesy little postcard in the mail from my vet. I am officially now a “senior pet”. They mean senior—as in senior citizen kitty. Can you believe it? They think I’m old, over the hill, beyond my prime….maybe even on the last few of my nine lives. At first I was a little depressed…then I got mad at the pure rudeness of it all…then I realized that if the powers that be are doing a countdown to my demise, it’s time to live life to the fullest. Hmmm. How exactly does one laid back, scaredy cat live life to the fullest without inadvertently cutting said life a few lives short? I guess I just throw caution to the wind and write down my bucket list for a start.<br /><br />Here goes…10 things that Frito T. Cat wishes to accomplish in his “senior” years.<br /><br /><strong>Catch a Mouse.</strong> Cats are supposed to want to do this, right? Maybe if I caught one, I could understand what all the fuss is about. I couldn’t EAT it or anything…that’s just gross and inhumane…but, maybe the fun of it is in the catching of the mouse. Anyway…I just think it’s something I should do at least once before the end.<br /><br /><strong>Get Married.</strong> Everyone says that Lea and I were meant to be, but she’s more like a little sister. I met some cats on MyCatSpace that were Frito marrying material. There was a raven haired beauty in Pennsylvania… a spunky little Siamese in California…an older feline with Gina’s spunk and a lot more wisdom in Florida, and a younger gal that looked a little like me also in Florida. Maybe I should look them up and put myself out there. Maybe it’s time the Soul Cat settles down.<br /><br /><strong>Have a Frito family reunion.</strong> Crazy human lady is friends with the lady that owns my brother Michael. We were the two runts of the litter…so we were up for adoption at the same time. (If I was a runt, I’d hate to meet my “healthy weight” littermates in a dark alley!) I should have a reunion with Michael. See if we still smell the same and all, you know?<br /><br /><strong>Drink from the Fountain of Youth.</strong> I love to drink from fountains—and a fountain to make me a non-senior cat would make a whole lot of sense at this stage of the game. Anyone know where they keep that thing? (I’d do a car trip…but, no planes…I’m a little claustrophobic.)<br /><br /><strong>Become viral on YouTube.</strong> I used to do flips in the air catching those plastic milk jug cap rings. Did the humans pick up the video camera then? NOOOOOOO. I could have been an overnight YouTube sensation about 10 pounds ago…Time to come up with a new gimmick. I think it’s possible.<br /><br /><strong>Thoroughly Bash the Face of Stupid. </strong> I’ve talked about Max the Pound Hound, AKA the Face of Stupid. One good bashing of the hound and I think I could die a happy Maine Coon.<br /><br /><strong>Sleep on My Blanket without the Kid that Says My Blanket is Her Blanket.</strong> Once upon a time, I had a blanket. MY BLANKET. Along came a brat kid…then another…and suddenly my blanket was community property…THEN it took up residence on the bed of human brat #1 as HER blanket. I want my blanket back---without the kid. <br /><br /><strong>Eat a Butterfly. </strong> Every year, the humans raise butterflies from cocoons on my napping table. It makes me crazy. Before I die, I WILL eat one of those butterflies. I just need to put my mind at ease. I’ve heard they taste like potato chips…and I don’t much like those…but, I just need to know for sure.<br /><br /><strong>Taste every variety of tuna and salmon cat treats on the market.</strong> I am a soft cat treat kind of guy—and I love tuna and salmon. I have time to test every tuna and salmon option available and if I can get my paws on the human’s credit card, I will Amazon.com’s #1 cat treat buyer.<br /><br /><strong>Sample Blueberry Muffins from every Bakery in Columbus.</strong> Does anyone know where I can get the best blueberry muffins in Columbus? I am not a people food kind of cat—but, there is just something about a good blueberry muffin that old Frito cannot resist. I’ll get a list of bakeries…maybe websites that take credit card orders. Won’t the humans be surprised when I find a blueberry muffin of the month club?<br /><br />What to try first….bring on the salmon cat treats—Frito needs to live what’s left of his life!Frito the Fat Cat Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526736663260424802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971934662305569291.post-31221622797251876682011-08-31T14:18:00.003-04:002011-08-31T14:26:32.410-04:00One Fat Cat With a Flea<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGZ5g8Y8uFYnQtybTqCZdeKWEMGKYQc5Bdbh4VhH45QhzYr2pPu7LM3ujDKM3KachFEEcSX4mwwqmHEpDV8HnRDAbIP49_1HdEPv0rAiEHjvUk5FmdlgVqCKfFw0IQiWoGTV6MFwsO6g/s1600/fritotoughday.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 212px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGZ5g8Y8uFYnQtybTqCZdeKWEMGKYQc5Bdbh4VhH45QhzYr2pPu7LM3ujDKM3KachFEEcSX4mwwqmHEpDV8HnRDAbIP49_1HdEPv0rAiEHjvUk5FmdlgVqCKfFw0IQiWoGTV6MFwsO6g/s320/fritotoughday.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647088087045081170" /></a>
<br />Human mom lady found a flea on my belly this morning. A FLEA!!!!!! In all of my dignified, senior house cat years, I have NEVER, EVER and I mean NEVER EVER had a FLEA!!! Psycho Sal E. Cat may have had fleas….if a flea was stupid enough to grace his white fur and claw presence. Dumb Dumb Fluff looks like he <em>should</em> have fleas….but, even he’s never had one in all of his adventures and misadventures in the outside world…The girls have never had fleas…Even the face of stupid, pound hound that surely presents himself as a flea magnet purely by nature of breeding has never been caught red-pawed with a flea.
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<br />But, yet, she found A FLEA???? A FLEA ON FRITO????? Now it seems that I have been harboring this blood sucking little vermin for days because I’m having some weird allergic flea reaction. (Mom called it a money sucking trip to the vet for a cortisone shot—but, it’s ME these vermin are victimizing and sucking the Frito-ness out of!!!) Can I help it if I’m a sensitive kind of guy? Can I help it if I respond allergically to trash and vermin invasion? So my lip's a bit puffy and I have skin issues…I am the Soul Cat…I need peace and love….not fleas and grief!
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<br />AAAAAGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If I go to the vet for a cortisone shot, I get weighed. If I get weighed, I am the immediate target of diet plan restructuring and the inevitable fat cat jokes. I just went in for my annual ridicule and fat cat abuse session last month…aka the annual kitty “wellness checkup”…I was not supposed to be subjected to the vet calling out the fat cat for MONTHS yet. It’s just not fair.
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<br />Who caused this? If not the face of stupid…then I must blame recent house guests. Could my brother’s mum have brought me FLEAS? Nah….not her…My brother Michael is as citified as I am…Oh no….it was the county cousin Shih Tzu! She came to visit…there was talk about a neighbor dog with fleas…there was talk about flea baths.
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<br />AAAAAGHHHHHH!!!! I knew I should have chased her to the garage.
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<br />Why didn’t Max, the Face of Stupid, chase her to the garage? With that ridiculous hound dog snout, you’d think he could smell a flea from 4 counties over…. Who am I kidding…Face of Stupid evidently holds Snout of Stupid.
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<br />I am on my own in this crusade against the dreaded flea. <em>**Note to crazy, flea obsessed, human mom lady….Frito can handle this…no need for trip to insulting vet or to degrading outdoor flea bath….fleas are no match for Frito T. Cat. Really. They aren’t.**</em>
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<br />HELP????? I see the outdoor flea bath being readied for one sad big boned city kitty.
<br />Frito the Fat Cat Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526736663260424802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971934662305569291.post-82884576087871015272011-02-01T08:49:00.003-05:002011-02-01T08:52:04.779-05:00Central Ohio Weather Inspires Pole DancingOkay, conservative cats—before you go wrapping your tails around your eyes and ears, I’m not talking about THAT kind of pole dancing. If I was talking about that, then the old human mom lady certainly wouldn’t have been as actively participating this morning…the world does not need that kind of entertainment. Trust me. The girls and I got the laugh of the morning when the crazy lady took the pound hound out for his morning stroll. The weather gave us a layer of ice last night and apparently humans and hound dogs aren’t as sure footed as we felines.<br /><br />The Face of Stupid hit the steps and the sidewalk first—literally. The stupid dog went bounding out the front door right on his face. Luckily for the crazy lady that this happened, because that little misstep slowed him down just enough that she was able to stay upright until she could grab onto the rose bush. Yes. The giant four foot, sticky sticker filled rose bush was a better option than a repeat of the broken tail bone two years ago. This was an utter shock to me and the girls since we did not realize humans had a purpose for a starter tail!<br /><br />Well, the rose bush is the last point of balance and stability before one reaches the street with mailboxes and street light poles. Hee hee…oh, it was another Looney Tunes inspired morning. Remember when Bugs Bunny was “helping” Yosemite Sam find gold that time. He’d do somersaults and cartwheels and get that crazy look in his eye. You would have thought the lady found gold all the way down the driveway—until the Face of Stupid pulled her into and <em>ALL THE WAY </em>around a street light pole about seven times.<br /><br />We are not experts in the art of pole dancing—but, if it were an Olympic event we would have given her a 7, 8 and a 9 respectively for technique and creativity. Costume was a little off (we think the droopy sweat pants and 30 pound winter coat may has stifled movement). We even gave the Face of Stupid a 6 for his creative belly slides and side rolls.<br /><br />I would encourage you to the watch the news in Central Ohio today—I bet there’s lots of creative ice maneuvers out there on video. I wish I had a camera and thumbs with which to operate it this morning, let me tell you.<br /><br />Be safe; don’t let your humans break any hips. Remember, this may make it easier to be a lap cat—but, trust me; it will be harder to get fed.<br /><br />This could possibly go down as the first stupid human trick for February in the House of Frito.Frito the Fat Cat Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526736663260424802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971934662305569291.post-54136603708688529732011-01-24T15:00:00.001-05:002011-01-24T15:02:15.993-05:00If a Cat Kills the First Robin of Spring, Does Mother Nature Retaliate?Hypothetically speaking, if a cat kills the first robin of Spring, do you suppose Mother Nature retaliates? Hmmm. Yep. I do too. No need to check things out with the groundhog this Groundhog Day, Toms and Tommies—Dum Dum Fluffsy just gave us 6 more weeks of winter—he KILLED the coming of Spring!! It’s bad, I tell you---BAD BAD Predator Cat…wait until the humans hear about it! Oh—and when the little ones find out what he’s done…so long Fluffy D’Tail snuggle time!<br /><br />What is old Frito rambling about? Oh, nothing much---except the fact that we are finally seeing robins, as misguided and misdirected as they may be to show up in Ohio when it’s below zero, they are ROBINS nonetheless. The bearers of the coming of Spring. Robins make the humans happy—happy humans loosen the strings on the cat food bags and they are a little more forgiving during kitty visits to the vet. So what does Dum Dum do? Oh, he just KILLS and freeze packs a robin—and left a full fledged crime scene for all to see.<br /><br />Oh, yeah, right on the front step—he even cracked the storm window on the glass door with the head of Spring. (Of course, HE claims that the bird lost its mind and flew into the window….at 18 inches off the ground at THAT force???? He needs to work on that story a bit if he’s going to get it by Detective Mom—she ALWAYS knows what happens around here…and she has this weird third eye somewhere that lets her know not only WHAT happened…but WHO did it.<br /><br />Then—instead of at least eating it (which I am TOTALLY against for the record) and destroying the evidence; the Fluff-in-Stuff headed buffoon LEFT IT IN THE SNOW…RIGHT IN THE FRONT YARD when he came in for the night. He was safe for the past few days because we got a few inches of snow and the bird was covered….but now we’ve had a little rain and a little thawing…and there’s a tail featherless, frozen bird butt-sicle with two legs sticking up in the front yard! We don’t need more of a sign than that screaming, SPRING KILLER!<br /><br />Six more weeks of winter…I can feel it in my whiskers…six more weeks of cooped up coon hound…six more weeks of “dress up the kitty in ridiculous dresses”….six more weeks of prying eyes examining every morsel of food I eat…every trip to the litter box. All because of Dum Dum Fluff.<br /><br />Did we need a psycho killer cat on the outside? Well—maybe occasionally…just on the days when the humans expect me to rid the inside world of an invading mouse or something—but, I draw the line at innocent birds. I draw a double line on robins. (Oh, yeah, and Cardinals…and Blue Jays…and Woodpeckers.) WHAT WAS HE THINKING??<br /><br />He’s really done it this time….really done it. Well, I guess there’s only one thing left to do….let’s see if I can help him frame the dog for the murder of Spring…Frito the Fat Cat Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526736663260424802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971934662305569291.post-33389721514389235182011-01-19T13:30:00.003-05:002011-01-19T13:36:33.345-05:00Why Do Some Cats Not Cover in the Litter Pan?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgudn2ljIVOYOIaMYkhSF9pijs2p9WQ155PNuI9nwjbdvEqEOdwpoC4MfnNBjSgtyTWEkTGOU9ErghcFOBlbv9mL3E17NbNseNbP41PGarErU6SncG9kVOLd6rcftLF_arW2Pvq0mMVMw/s1600/ginasmiles.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgudn2ljIVOYOIaMYkhSF9pijs2p9WQ155PNuI9nwjbdvEqEOdwpoC4MfnNBjSgtyTWEkTGOU9ErghcFOBlbv9mL3E17NbNseNbP41PGarErU6SncG9kVOLd6rcftLF_arW2Pvq0mMVMw/s320/ginasmiles.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563967624439327138" /></a><br /><strong><em>Wednesday's Weekly Guest Post:</em><br /><em>Featuring Guest Blogger~ Gina T. Cat, Frito's Free Spirited Roommate</em></strong><br /><br />Can someone please shed some insight onto why exactly some cats (namely Frito T. Cat) find themselves unable to cover up the doodie in the litter box? Lea, Fluffy D’Dum Dum, and I have tolerated this oddity for years—and have decided that it’s time to seek some outside guidance. Either Frito learns to cover or we are going to block access to the downstairs litter boxes.<br /><br />Really—it’s disgusting. It’s unsanitary—and we cannot understand why he cannot grasp the concept of potty and cover. I even watched him yesterday! He dropped a Frito sized load of crap (in the box not onto the web)—stepped out of the box, looked around to see if anyone was looking, and then made a quick paw or two into the litter box (without moving any litter) and then stopped to look at the uncovered pile. It seemed that he was honestly perplexed by the fact that it was not covered.<br /><br />Hello, Frito—it requires MOVEMENT OF LITTER OVER the pile. What did he do when he realized that it wasn’t covered, you may ask? He turned around and pawed like a madcat OUTSIDE the litter box on the carpet. What was THAT supposed to accomplish? He turned to check the status of the potty pile—and was immediately distressed that it was NOT covered. Hmm. Then, he proceeded to try pawing the carpet on the other side of the litter box. Guess what? He turned to check out the potty pile again. Bewilderment struck. What did he do next? He pawed the wall behind the litter box! THE WALL. Not kidding. With one more look at the uncovered pile of poo, he took one more look around the area for witnesses and ran as fast as could waddle out of the hallway and onto the stairs.<br /><br />For the millionth time, I followed along, entered the litter box and covered his potty wotty doodle. Apparently someone missed the litter box training in kitten school. You’d think as many times as he’s watched me cover for him over the years that he would have gotten the hang of it. <br /><br />I think I’ve been uncharacteristically patient for the past 8 years. I have followed his litter trail, covered his messes, and have never even made a hiss. Really, though, I’m getting to old to keep covering up his messes. I have kids to bite, humans to trip, and a floppy eared pound hound to bash—you never know when my nine lives will be up. I really do not have time to be on constant litter box patrol. I just don’t get it—any insight? Any good intervention/potty therapists out there? Perhaps a litter box training guide for dummies that I’ve missed? <br /><br />See you next week! Same cat time. Same cat channel.<br /><br />GinaFrito the Fat Cat Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526736663260424802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971934662305569291.post-62009096376978366372011-01-11T10:04:00.002-05:002011-01-11T10:08:55.363-05:00Short Term Memory Loss...Or Just Plain Stupid<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKLI6hN2jsgWM9i6G8llx3mr-MID6cDAOjF4m3YmgzAGyIWmL2ksuqH9kDtuoYcmX-g2vT3p9CYjqO2OJStnPMnZZb9cqmKJL9hXy9tU4jcUAsFGnBX80p-WIIMcd21pf1czJCPDiwpw/s1600/thelatestfluff.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 258px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKLI6hN2jsgWM9i6G8llx3mr-MID6cDAOjF4m3YmgzAGyIWmL2ksuqH9kDtuoYcmX-g2vT3p9CYjqO2OJStnPMnZZb9cqmKJL9hXy9tU4jcUAsFGnBX80p-WIIMcd21pf1czJCPDiwpw/s320/thelatestfluff.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560945108736529938" /></a><br />Some of you may remember when the humans took in Fluffy D’Tail a few years back. He was a whiny, hungry, scruffy looking dust mop of an excuse for an outdoorsman. While he’s still whiny and scruffy looking, he does manage to eat his share of the indoor cat allotment of diet friendly kibble—and his own canned mouse ears. The girls and are starting to worry about him…see, since the Central Ohio weather turned yucky and blucky and downright cold and snowy—Fluff D has presented some peculiar behavior. His behavior is so ridiculous, in fact, that we are questioning either his mental faculties or his intellect—or both.<br /><br />Every morning, he goes to the door and throws an absolute, caterwauling FIT to be let out into the snow. SNOW, I tell you! (While I think that alone screams of a loss of mental faculties—I believe in to each his own and all.) However, after minutes outside—two to three at the most—he’s outside the door again throwing a whiny tail fit to be let back inside. Then he continues to do this throughout the day in 2 to 3 hour increments. Now—the girls and I must ask the question….does he somehow forget that it’s wet, freezing and snow covered outside---or is he just an idiot?<br /><br />One look out the window is proof that it is snow covered (hence the frigid temperatures and resulting icy, wet, frozen paws). Why then would the cat repeatedly venture out to only prove that it’s miserable out there….there simply must be something wrong with him! I have the sense to know that if the floor is cold once I venture off my blanket that perhaps I should stay on my blanket. There seems to be a missing cause and effect sensation in that cat. <br /><br />*Sigh*….I guess it just goes to show you that the human’s judgment in animals worthy of adoption has certainly declined in recent years.Frito the Fat Cat Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526736663260424802noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971934662305569291.post-37996206191612506832011-01-07T10:49:00.002-05:002011-01-07T10:53:51.490-05:00Restless Tail Syndrome Creates Pain in the Tail for Cat RoommatePondering the theory of restless tail syndrome for the morning....<br /><br />For a long time now, I have discussed the many imperfections in the resident pound hound that the humans so felt necessary to “rescue”to adopt (and pay good cat food fund money for) from the shelter. These flaws include those floppy ears that get in his food and water, the big vacuum cleaner power suction device attached to the end of a ridiculous hound dog snout, and silly spots that look like dirt--which even a much needed weekly bath fails to remove—and a tail that just does not stop wagging.<br /><br />For a long time, I just assumed the dog was stupid. I thought he was simply in a doofus, la-la land of perpetual happiness. An idiot. Now, though, I wonder if there is not some medical reason or malady causing this constant, unusual (and downright irritating) wagging of the tail. After all, NOBODY can be that darned happy. Then it hit me. He must have restless tail syndrome.<br /><br />You cats have heard of restless leg syndrome in humans, right? It’s a real thing, you know? My Swat-A-Granny has it and she is miserable without her medication—especially if she’s not moving about (and that make her the perfect Swat-A-Granny contestant I might add). So—I’m thinking (and you know that Frito T. Cat is ALWAYS thinking)—maybe the dog isn’t a clueless buffoon. Maybe he just looks stupid and has Restless Tail Syndrome—making him appear to be unwittingly happy all the time!<br /><br />I just did some online research and it seems that the vet world is entirely missing this highly plausible, overly irritating phenomenon! I’m going to email this to the human lady immediately—she needs to call the vet. Maybe he needs sedated! Maybe it’s incurable and the only humane thing to do would be to put him down and out of my…er…HIS misery. Did I mention that he even wiggle-waggles that silly tail in his sleep? (The human says he’s dreaming—I say he’s possessed by the moron ghost of hound dogs past—but, of course, nobody ever listens to the fat cat!)<br /><br />I may have just discovered the cause of irritating wag-worthy happiness in dogs everywhere. Do you think they’ll give me credit? Do you think this discovery is worth any money? (Either the cat food fund is low these days or those humans are enforcing the evil vet diet plan in preparation for my upcoming vet visit—this visit I like to call “The Fat Cat Weight Check and Ridicule Session”.)<br /><br />I think it’s answered. The stupid dog, while he may be inherently less intelligent than we felines, is suffering from a real medical illness. He needs help—he needs drugged…um..he needs medicated! He may even need to be put down for humanity sake. I’m a strong advocate for humane treatment—we cannot wait on this—we need to act quickly, human!Frito the Fat Cat Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526736663260424802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971934662305569291.post-13633629755003875062010-12-26T11:42:00.007-05:002010-12-26T11:53:52.150-05:00Frito T. Cat's New Year's Resolutions 2011What are some of this cat's New Year's Resolutions? The New Year is almost here and I wanted to get a jump on the crazy cat lady’s annual “self improvement” demands. Every year, she wants me to create my personal New Year’s Resolutions—and do some soul searching and self evaluation in some goofball human inspired effort to be the “best cat that I can be”. Most years, I grumble and complain and just simply rewrite or paraphrase last year’s list to humor the crazy mom human. This year, though, I’m a little more thankful for each passing life and I think I’m going to put more thought into my New Year’s Resolutions.<br /><br /><strong>The vet will never again call this big boned kitty fat. </strong><br /><em>Does this mean that I will lose more weight? Eat my canned mouse ears and innards without complaint? Uh, no, it means that when the farsighted vet criticizes Frito T. Cat, I plan to bite her with all of the force that my manly 23 pounds can muster. Hey, I’ll continue the diet torture in a bag—simply because it keeps me peeing like a kitten—but, the fat cat jokes stop here. (And unless the vet’s about to drop another litter of two or three little humans, a few cans of diet mouse ears should probably grace her lunch bag as well.)</em><br /><br /><strong>I will exercise.</strong><br /><em>Surprised? Don't be! After all, if I don’t stay in shape, how can I beat the crap out of one floppy eared pound hound on a daily basis? I may dislike exercise—but, I LOATHE that floppy eared pound hound. Bring on the milk ring fetching game. Frito’s in training!</em><br /><br /><strong>I will be nice to Max the Dog</strong><br /><em>(Yes, this is a human imposed New Year's Resolution for the cat) Hey—I will be nice unless I catch him looking at me, or at Fluff or the girls. If he barks, I’ll bash him. If he wags that hound dog tail, I’ll bash him. If he breathes in my presence, I’ll bash him. I’m only so strong. I am just one cat.</em><br /><br /><strong>I will refrain from swatting the old folks.</strong><br /><em>It seems that I have been labeled by the GrandHumans as unfriendly—even intimidating. I would not be intimidating if they would not try to pet me, touch me, goo-goo/gaa-gaa at me or walk within 6 feet of me. Is this so hard to understand? In an effort to regain my kitty charm, I agree to refrain swatting the feeble except on the occasional third Sunday of the month. They don’t visit as often, so this should increase their odds of a swat free weekend. </em><br /><br /><strong>I, Frito T. Cat, will NEVER eat a mouse.</strong><br /><em>This is more of an admission than a resolution--but, it is time that I stand up for my convictions. In the past, the humans have requested that I catch a mouse. I refuse. I now openly refuse. I am a passive kitty. I love peace. I love harmony. I may eat the occasional bug or butterfly—but, a mouse. EEWWWW. </em> <br /><br />The crazy cat lady will likely give me some secondary, “personal reflection” assignment—but, until then, I think I’ve developed a realistic, inspiring list of New Year’s Resolutions. Maybe if I impress her with this list, I’ll get enough computer time to keep up with my blog on a more regular basis. At least the face of stupid doesn’t have a blog…boy that would offer some though provoking reading….Bubba says this…Bubba says that…blah blah blah…duh duh duh.<br /> <br />Well—I’m sending out my New Year well wishes a bit early—but, I think it will help me focus! I’m ready to put 2010 to rest and come out swatting in 2011!<br /><br /> What resolutions do you wish to accomplish this year?Frito the Fat Cat Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526736663260424802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971934662305569291.post-65745303565944805042010-12-09T09:58:00.003-05:002010-12-09T10:03:20.847-05:005 Toxic Plants to Cats<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNncyz5xJDoIQGqP6bbzog2TKUvHxnWVcgvEV4jbkP_x0LT5_DQGAFv4dsT7ikyhcaIxzsXcrq00MNJEm3hKHyqezx5LbN0z5y9Dceq3yNloSYZRysN2pfn1E5n57xV-nYzFgCFAD0aA/s1600/holly+bjearwicke.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 133px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548697972256780450" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNncyz5xJDoIQGqP6bbzog2TKUvHxnWVcgvEV4jbkP_x0LT5_DQGAFv4dsT7ikyhcaIxzsXcrq00MNJEm3hKHyqezx5LbN0z5y9Dceq3yNloSYZRysN2pfn1E5n57xV-nYzFgCFAD0aA/s200/holly+bjearwicke.jpg" /></a><br /><div>The holidays are here and all of our stupid humans seem to love to bring in pretty greenery to deck our halls—unfortunately some pretty greens just smell so darned good that we feline folk just can’t resist their toxic draw! What are some plants that will make you yack up last year’s hairballs—and maybe even ones still in progress or worse yet, take that last ninth life you’ve been saving up for your Bucket List adventures? I love green veggies as much as the next guy—but, here are 5 plants that the vets and science gurus say are toxic to cats. Avoid them, boycott them if necessary—or suffer the consequences.<br /><br /><strong>Holly. </strong>My humans have some strong Celtic roots—and we ALWAYS have holly in some form or other hanging out. Looks pretty, smells good, chews well…skip it. Hacking up a hairball is NOTHING compared to Holly induced yacks. Holly hits so hard you yack from BOTH ENDS…sometimes at once.<br /><br /><strong>Mistletoe.</strong> Who needs the kissyface crap anyway? Apparently human-folk think this stuff is cool to stand under—but, for the sake of Magical Mister Mistopheles—DON”T EAT IT! If the yacking from both ends doesn’t get you, you can have some trips that NO CAT would believe. I’ve heard of cats seeing some Black Lab sized MICE, I tell you…Skip the Mistletoe.<br /><br /><strong>Amaryllis.</strong> Pretty flower, pretty greens—pretty darned nauseating. Sure, the puke factor is bad—but, if you eat too much of this one you can drool like a doofus, convulse like none other and have some high powered tummy cramps that a few extra helpings of cat food never brought on!<br /><br /><strong>Lilies and Baby’s Breath.</strong> Okay—lots of humans get those floofsy-poofsy flower arrangements from the local florists as gifts during the holidays—and what do they stick in there? Random lilies and baby’s breath. Both of those awful things can make you sick as a dog—or even wish you were a dog. If you human doesn’t put them up out of tongue’s reach, summon your willpower and skip the holiday pretties.<br /><br /><strong>Christmas Tree water.</strong> Okay, this isn’t a plant—but, since the Christmas tree becomes planted in your living room for weeks, it’s important to remind everyone about the dangers of <em>Toxic WATER</em>??? What will these humans think of next! First of all they bring in a tree that you are not allowed to climb, decorate it with shiny pretties that you aren’t allowed to swat—and then fill up a basin of water for the tree to sit in that can kill you??? Yep. Skip the tree water. It can have nasties like fertilizers and bacteria that grow in there when it sits for weeks on end. Save the tummy trouble and skip it!<br /><br />Okay, it’s a given that humans sometimes do stupid things (especially during holidays and special occasions.) For the next few weeks, why don’t you skip eating ANY green, leafy veggie that magically appears in your midst? There are other things like poinsettia which may not kill you or make you deathly ill in small doses—but, should NOT be eaten in meal sized quantities. Use your cat sense—but also hope that your humans eliminate holiday hazards from your decked halls this year!</div>Frito the Fat Cat Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526736663260424802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971934662305569291.post-27127094421506067962010-12-06T10:39:00.005-05:002010-12-06T10:47:12.871-05:00Why Cats Get Stressed Out During the Holidays<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIZSX5q3i9taw6GusP12fvm3aKUKakMbP2oRRVz6Ev5ZW2Ul3Knydotdz3YEL3e8hbEhi21C_OK-VM_idHBKGQ1GsXOrwihK5-mTr7_kCl5s0FNDj42on0v-d2orXl5yICp7QCG21Vwg/s1600/Frito+Santa+Baby.gif"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 166px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547596050948458818" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIZSX5q3i9taw6GusP12fvm3aKUKakMbP2oRRVz6Ev5ZW2Ul3Knydotdz3YEL3e8hbEhi21C_OK-VM_idHBKGQ1GsXOrwihK5-mTr7_kCl5s0FNDj42on0v-d2orXl5yICp7QCG21Vwg/s200/Frito+Santa+Baby.gif" /></a> Okay, some of you cats and human typists know that I, Frito T. Cat, develop some annual holiday stress related health issues. In fact, the Mom human has battled my annual Thanksgiving psychosis and urinary tract stress-distress so long that she and the vet debated drugging me through the entire holiday season! I am generally a pretty laid back cat—so why do I lose it from November through January every damned year? Let me tell you—and I bet many of you other cats can relate…. <div><div><br /><p><strong>Strangers invade and sometimes stay for days.</strong> I like meeting new people as much as the next cat—but, only in small doses. If I happen through a room full of strangers during a Thanksgiving meal, so be it—but, when those weirdos move in for a day or two—I kind of lose it. It’s a matter of too much new noise, new smells, and new artifacts---too much NEWNESS in general for TOO LONG. Cats like routines, we like patterns….no new Fruit-Loops for days one end. Too stressful for even a peace loving, laid back kind of cat.</p><p><strong>Umm…Black Olives on the Thanksgiving table?</strong> HELLO—Frito T. Cat LOVES black olives. What do humans serve for Thanksgiving? Turkey? Ham? Aromatic veggies? HELLOOOO???? Cats eat birds in the wild. Turkey=Wild Bird. I am a self proclaimed vegetarian—but, black olives are my friend—and if they are on the Thanksgiving buffet, I consider myself invited. As for Fluffy D’Tail, the resident outdoor psycho-bird-hunting killer cat? You wonder why he goes a little nutso over turkey? Really?</p><br /><p><strong>Luggage moves in.</strong> While I do not have a problem with new artifacts in my living space—some cats like my roommate Gina—take issue when the living space becomes disorganized or cluttered. Some cats—like my roommate Gina—tend to take matter into their own paws and show the humans who rules the floors around here. While the other cats and I think Gina’s crazy (although not one of us has the whiskers to say that to her face), we can see how the disruption can cause stress and anxiety. (Note to humans staying in Gina’s house: Sit a suitcase on the floor unsupervised and you had better have a brave dry cleaner and a lifetime supply of Nature’s Miracle because she can and will pee on it.) Not kidding. If I was joking—it would be funnier.</p><p><strong>Tinsel, tree pretties and music—oh my!</strong> My name is Frito and I eat plastic. Hey—after 10 years in Plastic Eater’s Anonymous, I can admit such things. Now—bear in mind that it sounds like plastic, tastes like plastic and exhibits a glorious sheen like plastic; even an intelligent cat like myself may view it as plastic. Tree tinsel is my weakness. Skip it this year. You, I, my intestines and the vet will appreciate the beauty of a tinsel-less bare tree. Who needs it anyway? As for the pretty hangy-downy-cat teasers….Fluffy and Lea cannot resist. Make it easy for all of us—skip those or move them up at least 3 feet from the cat’s eye view, please. Is motion activated musical nonsense necessary? Sure, sending a cat to the ceiling once may be pretty funny—but after that first time, must we really be subjected to blaring rifts of “Grandma Got Ran Over by A Reindeer” at 3 a.m. for a full month? </p><p><strong>Humans bring a TREE into the living room.</strong> Hey—I’m a house cat. Too big to climb trees, too chicken to consider it, in fact. However, the other cats in my house are either ex-outdoorskitties or freaking insane. They climb trees. They love trees. Since Gina sent the family tree over a 12 foot landing drop off about 6 years ago, my humans wedge the tree into a corner of the dining room to keep it safe—but, still lose their minds when the girls or Fluff try to climb it. Cats climb trees daily—apparently I need to take video or something to remind my stupid humans of this fact. Skip it or learn to deal.</p><p>Okay, cats…the holiday season is stressful. Do your best to get through them. January is less than a month away—and then we are all good until the stupid Easter bunny comes along with that damned Easter basket grass….Be brave, be strong—be smarter than your humans and have a happy, safe, vet free holiday.<br /><br /><br /></p><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div>Frito the Fat Cat Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526736663260424802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971934662305569291.post-1604686294268423372010-11-30T10:04:00.005-05:002010-11-30T10:09:43.558-05:00My Buddy Tiger Could Use a Forever Home<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCtxFJOyBGn0UQOz0M37q8vyWHTDyqsKQxDWuX7NTbnHzDXrttrQG0I3hDxEIDbjnFhhVquhFxsWmtdkYjlihD5T_etEAFN_xptlBwj-tU4vL3UFWdrcIpe6NC4BxY5WqfkF6FO-FQ1w/s1600/tiger2+002.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545359528038380338" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCtxFJOyBGn0UQOz0M37q8vyWHTDyqsKQxDWuX7NTbnHzDXrttrQG0I3hDxEIDbjnFhhVquhFxsWmtdkYjlihD5T_etEAFN_xptlBwj-tU4vL3UFWdrcIpe6NC4BxY5WqfkF6FO-FQ1w/s200/tiger2+002.jpg" /></a> I’m taking a break from my usual dog hating, sarcastic rants today because I have a cat pal in need. His name’s Tiger and he’s a pretty cool guy. Well, I’ll be honest, I haven’t met him personally—he’s my “cousin”, and the Mom lady says he’s the best cat she’s ever met besides Me, Fluff, Lea, Gina and the late, great Salzi Doodle. The Mom lady’s a pretty good judge of cat character, you know.<br /><br />See, I haven’t met Tiger because Mom says he has an illness. It’s called Feline Leukemia. He tested positive for both FLV and FIV and my Aunt and Uncle who took him in off the streets are having a hard time trying to decide what to do. They can’t bear the thought of having him put down because he is such a loving cat—so full of life still. But, they have three kitties that have not been exposed to FLV/FIV and they are afraid to risk giving them Tiger’s disease.<br /><br />Tiger really needs to be adopted by a loving family—and live in a one cat household. He’d love to be a lap cat—and find someone to devote himself to for the rest of his life. My Aunt and Uncle adopted Tiger—and promised to love him, and it’s out of that love that they have been so determined to find him a good home to offer him the care and attention that he needs.<br /><br />Right now Tiger has to be isolated from my other cousins. Dixie, Callie and Grey have the run of the house—and lots of lap time. The vets suggest that Tiger be put down. The animal shelters cannot take him because he is too much of a risk to their other cats and would be too difficult to adopt out.<br /><br />Okay, Frito fans—can any of you help him out? Do you know someone that would be willing to adopt him and help him live out the rest of his life in peace? I sure hope so. See when I developed my urinary tract issues a few years back, the Mom lady refused to listen to talk about putting me down—and I’d consider it an honor to be able to give Tiger the same chances I’ve had through the years.<br /><br />Leave me a comment or <a href="mailto:fritoandthegirls@earthlink.net">shoot me an email </a>if you have questions or think you can help my buddy Tiger.Frito the Fat Cat Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526736663260424802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971934662305569291.post-45295422931606661882010-11-27T20:39:00.006-05:002010-11-28T12:51:40.488-05:00Maine Coon Meets Coon Hound: Canine Affinity Treatment Step TwoIf a cat fails to accept the given logic that cats are the polar opposite of dogs, it is up to the owner to find his or her cat's anti-cat...a.k.a. the dog absolutely most un-like the cat and set up a meeting to set a dog loving cat on track. <br /><br />I wish my family had kept the Face of Stupid, my anti-cat dog, for only an initial meeting--but, NOoooooooooo, they had to adopt it. The most important aspects of this step in a cat's Canine Affection treatment are twofold. (1) The dog must be the ultimate opposite of the cat for the maximum impact and (2)The dog should be a loaner dog--not a permanent resident. <br /><br />*Ignoring aspect two can cause personality disorders, unmanageable anger, and other psychosomatic illnesses leading up to and including one Frito sized kitty meltdown! Because I understand that humans often lead by example--I am offering my own personal memories of my Step Two. My cat pals know that I am something of a "soul cat"--I am laid back. I enjoy calm, peaceful living. I like calm music, a clean litter box, and a quiet napping table. The humans decided it was time for me to meet my anti-cat. Then THIS happened. <br /><br />(You may need to switch the view at the bottom of the video window from 360p to 480p in order for the YouTube music to play with the video--there's some AudioSwap bug that's causing a glitch at the present)<br /><br /><object width="640" height="505"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/hSd_fAqsDAY?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/hSd_fAqsDAY?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="505"></embed></object>Frito the Fat Cat Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526736663260424802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971934662305569291.post-58402645701337603562010-11-27T07:12:00.008-05:002010-11-28T07:38:34.055-05:00Canine Affection Therapy Step 1: Understand differences?<div>My therapists at the CAT (Canine Affection Treatment) Institute are thrilled with my total reversal in dog-affinity. So much so, in fact, that I have been asked to write an advice manual intended for the Institute to use in healing their toughest, dog loving cats. Ah, what the hey--the Institute has offered payment in black olives and complimentary anger management counseling. All I have to do is map out my treatment techniques.<br /><br />Let's begin at the beginning. Step One. Cats are Different than Dogs.<br /><br />Okay, cats, I realize that this is an obvious, basic assumption. However, it is one that many dog loving cats seem to ignore and resist. I had my dog Bear. He was sweet, he was fluffy, he never barked, he was actually smaller than I was--I think in my heart I felt that he was really a cat. It clouded my judgement and my common cat sense. I was confused.<br /><br />When the parents discussed adopting a hound mix mutt puppy from the shelter, I heard the words "coon hound". Well, swat my tail and call me a Shih Tzu! I am a Maine Coon--the new dog was originally believed to be a Tennessee Walking Coon Hound mix--this was going to be awesome! Do you suppose our grandmothers were related? Maybe it was on my dad's side. Wonder how the coon clan made the moves between Maine and Tennessee???<br /><br />See? I was obviously confused. Whatever difference the state of Maine made to my coon genes was signficant--and whatever Tennessee did to Max's relatives was quite horrific. See? I was totally delusional! Once I met him, I realized that he was surely adopted into the family...or perhaps the result of inbreeding...or cross breeding. Maybe just flat out bad breeding!<br /><br />Related? No. Even shared naming and the possibility of confused ancestors does not create any similarity between dogs and cats. None. We are different. It's a fact. It's a reality--and accepting this difference is necessary to successfully begin your canine affection treatment. </div>Frito the Fat Cat Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526736663260424802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971934662305569291.post-74507680643605581182010-11-26T11:00:00.005-05:002010-11-26T11:20:43.652-05:00Has Anyone Noticed that the Kids are MISSING??Okay, one minute I was asleep on my blanket (the one that the middle little kid think is hers) and the next minute, I wake up and all three little irritating human kids are GONE. They have absolutely disappeared. Vanished. G-O-N-E. The weird thing? The Mom and Dad humans seem not to notice.<br /><br />Do you supposed they've lost their minds--or maybe they've come to their senses and gotten rid of the time sponging brats...Oh...could it be? Do you supposed they got rid of the dog too? #%^@ Nope, the Face of Stupid is still upstairs in bed with the Dad human. <br /><br />They must have been KIDNAPPED! Okay..let's go back here. What do I remember before the kidnapping? Yesterday morning, Fluffy stole a turkey neck, the mom human was making banana pudding (Fluffy tried to get the milk and was thrown outside), Gina was reminded that not every human belonging was in "the wrong place" and that she needed to be tolerant, Lea moved into her "company's coming" hidey-hole under the littlest little kid's bed...now the kids are gone. What happened?<br /><br />OH NO!!! I slept through Thanksgiving! I missed the black olives! I missed swatting my Swat-a-Granny! I missed biting the Aunt that thinks I'm cute and cuddly! I missed the first eight hour of peace once the brats...er..the little humans are off to Grandma's. I must be getting old! How does a cat like me sleep through the annual holiday feast and guests. <br /><br />Did I lose a life? Should I get my hearing checked? <gasp> HOW OLD AM I??? I blame the dog. He must have slipped something into that catnip! Yeah. That's it. The dog ruined my Thanksgiving. The girls and I need a sit down.Frito the Fat Cat Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526736663260424802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971934662305569291.post-11837863928488954032010-11-21T07:55:00.004-05:002010-11-21T08:23:25.597-05:00Stupid Human Trick 10,025...Bug Removal For Dummies<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB6aSxMsgnXBRgdL_8HvlAujJotOePvBWAjyE9yYVbSSx1GgjBylG6t-lqsK-QiGYsCXPdt5LzOa_2Q6MHCn90K2kmLyiHbQ71iRwHlg2aYVqJYvH0xOuf51t7lmd-YAeMuBlDYKyEDg/s1600/the+bug.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 138px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541992471151983602" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB6aSxMsgnXBRgdL_8HvlAujJotOePvBWAjyE9yYVbSSx1GgjBylG6t-lqsK-QiGYsCXPdt5LzOa_2Q6MHCn90K2kmLyiHbQ71iRwHlg2aYVqJYvH0xOuf51t7lmd-YAeMuBlDYKyEDg/s200/the+bug.jpg" /></a><br /><div><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">Well, the humans really outdid their previous stupid human tricks with their latest adventure in moronic action.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Let me set the stage for you:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The humans took a trip to Hocking Hills a few weeks back—they even shipped the little humans off to my Swat-a-Granny and the Shih-Tzu Grandma and the Aunt that thinks I’m cute and cuddly. The Face of Stupid, AKA Max the Dog, visited the boarding kennel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was a great 4 days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Peace, quiet, relaxation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Since I knew that the cat sitter was going to be stopping by, there were no unfortunate cat food burglar misunderstandings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was a nice vacation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Fluff, the girls and I really enjoyed it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Mom and Dad even came home early and spent a day with just the cats before the kids and the dog came home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So what was the latest stupid human trick?</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">The humans came home on a Saturday night, unloaded the car, unpacked all of their stuff, and went about their normal routine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Sunday morning, the Mom human made several trips up and down the stairs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She brought in the newspaper, packed away the suitcases, fed us, cleaned out cat litter—and even talked to the cat sitter on the front landing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Then it happened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Mom saw the ugliest, most awful, bug like creature she’d ever seen right on the front landing where she had been walking all morning!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>(For those of you unfamiliar with Hocking Hills—it’s a <em><strong>nature area</strong></em> in Eastern Ohio and the humans stayed in a rustic cabin in the <em><strong>woods</strong></em>, etc.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Mom was immediately convinced that this bug hitched a ride home with them!</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">Let me tell you, Mom’s not a panic freak.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She’s the official designated spider killer, house centipede remover, and generally not very excitable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When she started screaming for the Dad human, Fluff, the girls and I perched ourselves at the top of the stairs for a bird’s eye view of the action.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Dad, who had been asleep, headed down the stairs—and stopped midway as soon as he saw the bug.</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">“What is it?” Mom was asking him.</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">“I don’t know, kill it.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Dad squinted from his spot on the stairs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">“<em>You </em>kill it!”</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">This went on for several minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was a riot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> Mom was not very happy with dad. </span>The girls and I were rolling! Fluff got bored and walked down the stairs to see if there was any breakfast left in the bowls—walking right by the bug.</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">“See?? The cats won’t even mess with it!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><strong><em>You</em></strong> kill it!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>This somehow proved to Mom that this was a bug to be reckoned with if we cats wouldn’t play with it.</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">“I’m not killing it.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Dad turned around and went back to the bedroom.</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">Mom decided that killing it would make a big mess—so she opted to scoop up said bug onto the dustpan (and pray she didn’t get stung by some prehistoric psycho bug).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When it didn’t move, she considered herself lucky and tossed it quickly outside.</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">Why exactly was this the latest stupid human trick? Why did the girls and I find it so utterly hysterical? Little did the humans know at the time, but the psycho killer bug was actually a very well rendered plastic Halloween treat that the middle little kid had received during Trick or Treat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Fluffy had found it on the kid’s window ledge and carried it upstairs to play with it and left it on the landing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was even funnier later when the parents were relaying the story to Grandma and Grandpa—with photos—and the middle little kid said, “That looks just like the bug I got for Halloween!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes">One mad little kid demanding a bug replacement....$2.00</span></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes">The look on the faces of Mom and Dad when they realized the truth of the situation...priceless</span></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 10pt" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">Stupid Human Trick 10025….at least.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p></div>Frito the Fat Cat Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526736663260424802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971934662305569291.post-10585668755715362772010-11-19T09:35:00.003-05:002010-11-19T09:40:42.445-05:00Guest Post: Gina's Canine Cohabitation Plan<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj6rLuVSiJwt-W41aUgsawvpHH30_g35hQ-k5v0j7FFnVTv4WIfKJdYylY5uTD2m9PIbsnljLiK3C_Z5nOu3tWfzvEAnAyQlHd6UxFWZjh7-Rfskz9XjBvWZdRIFWDuHWUIDBPAGiEoA/s1600/ginasmiles.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541270567125254258" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj6rLuVSiJwt-W41aUgsawvpHH30_g35hQ-k5v0j7FFnVTv4WIfKJdYylY5uTD2m9PIbsnljLiK3C_Z5nOu3tWfzvEAnAyQlHd6UxFWZjh7-Rfskz9XjBvWZdRIFWDuHWUIDBPAGiEoA/s200/ginasmiles.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="left">As Frito mentioned, as part of our canine adaptation plan, Mom wants us each to write our coping techniques which will be employed to learn to live with this horrible animal. I was chosen to present my plan next since I am the most direct, straightforward and sincere. Here goes.<br /><br />As in Lea’s Plan, I too will need to start with a newspaper ad: </div><br /><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">Wanted: To Buy or Trade </span></strong></div><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"><div align="center"><br /></span></strong></div><em>One copy of the book, “You Too Can Make it Look Like an Accident” by Joe D’Hitman.<br />Book’s condition is not important, nor is the version. I’ve lost my original—if someone could even just fax me a copy of Chapter 3: The Art of Stairs, that would cover it.<br />Contact Gina T. Cat directly. I will purchase or trade for one small, striped, slightly Loofa-life cat. Humans need not be involved or named to protect the idiots that allowed this beast into our happy home.<br /></em><br /><div align="left"><br /><em><strong>What? </strong></em><br /><br />Gina<br /><br /></div>Frito the Fat Cat Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526736663260424802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971934662305569291.post-36310483047522753272010-11-19T09:19:00.006-05:002010-11-19T09:35:44.870-05:00Guest Post: Lea's Canine Cohabitation Plan<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXocvKjZnDvYUhpCEW8FujieYVc2v18EG61bPJ22o_m2qM843CqWPv1wjtOo8tnUxKxbyrFUyMaYCbI_A_HIFiAzFygdI6azNHirfzQYE4iwMsZosvF1fooS01z_M57m7bNTQuBdFYKg/s1600/leaprofile.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 133px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541266724142504242" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXocvKjZnDvYUhpCEW8FujieYVc2v18EG61bPJ22o_m2qM843CqWPv1wjtOo8tnUxKxbyrFUyMaYCbI_A_HIFiAzFygdI6azNHirfzQYE4iwMsZosvF1fooS01z_M57m7bNTQuBdFYKg/s200/leaprofile.jpg" /></a><br /><br />For those of you who don't know me, I'm Lea. I found Frito's family a long time ago when I was cold and hungry--I was just a baby--and they took me in. It was a good life for a few years--then they adopted this thing they called Max. I call him a vacuum cleaner with hound dog ears--but, the humans didn't care much for my analogies.<br /><br />ANYWAY--I have been asked by the Mom Human to develop a plan that would allow Frito, Gina and myself to peacefully, safely live with Mister Max. This is the best option I could think of.<br /><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"><em>For Sale or Trade</em></span></strong></div><p><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"> </p><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2jhKSOMmoMeEVOnJoelhIRr4dxgvFZ4wDjD1jLiZ2ehyphenhyphenYtOMA51Omfzk3Uw17QAzx6wI9vzPm65La6abI3nEyuRfJ8lv_5jN-z3FPx6sSeMXFzIJKHWmS6B5tmzdcn2Yh5PaWJa28vQ/s1600/Mister+Max.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2jhKSOMmoMeEVOnJoelhIRr4dxgvFZ4wDjD1jLiZ2ehyphenhyphenYtOMA51Omfzk3Uw17QAzx6wI9vzPm65La6abI3nEyuRfJ8lv_5jN-z3FPx6sSeMXFzIJKHWmS6B5tmzdcn2Yh5PaWJa28vQ/s200/Mister+Max.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541268821496277074" /></a><br /><div align="justify"><br /></span></strong><em>One slightly used floppy eared hound dog like thing. Razors…uh..teeth are in like new condition. While not attractive to cat taste, coat, ears and general appearance must be pleasing to someone. Makes messes when it eats—often from both ends. Apparently this is also pleasing to humans. Makes horrible wake up alarm sound human calls a bark and has a turbo charged suction device over mouth razors that humans call its “hound sniffer”.<br />Will sell for 48.99 or trade for one bag of our Vet Diet cat food. Also willing to throw in a slightly unpleasant white cat with grey spots—no charge.<br /><br />Contact Lea T. Cat directly. Humans need not be involved. They have entrusted me entirely to complete said transaction.<br /></em><br />What can I say? This is the only way I see of working this out. Just because the cats and I don’t like him doesn’t mean that there isn’t a creature out there somewhere willing to take him in!<br /><br />Lea</div>Frito the Fat Cat Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526736663260424802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5971934662305569291.post-21315790874765998352010-11-19T09:11:00.004-05:002010-11-19T09:18:52.652-05:00Frito's Canine Cohabitation Plan<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7iUG-3HtmGSLzixoJNQzUXPo5jXmLQHznCtnkY07VGUeoBq93jTiv3VDlf-8ZHBWdHhmv6-Au4dRumk_5OJzs_XrmujkFPC7oEbplEMrqNyMv9cpgcPiMsrB_kp-oSJDSuVeTOLKSkg/s1600/maxposes.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541264788710012290" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7iUG-3HtmGSLzixoJNQzUXPo5jXmLQHznCtnkY07VGUeoBq93jTiv3VDlf-8ZHBWdHhmv6-Au4dRumk_5OJzs_XrmujkFPC7oEbplEMrqNyMv9cpgcPiMsrB_kp-oSJDSuVeTOLKSkg/s200/maxposes.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">After months and months of trial cohabitation with the awful Beast from the Humane Society (the humans call it Max), we are no closer to accepting this situation. We have tried to talk to Mom about it—but, she says the dog stays. She says that we cats need to learn to adapt.<br /><br />As part of our adaptation, Mom wants me and the Girls each to write our plan to learn to live with this horrible animal. I have had great difficulty writing my proposed plan. My world has gone into a state of total disorder to such an extent that I can barely compose my thoughts. Here goes.<br /><br />Unlike the girls, I feel that I owe it to the humans to at least try to compose a plan to live in one house with the pound hound dog.<br /><br />First, I would like to say that this “dog” has been a disaster to my psyche. I was a dog supporter from birth. I am now questioning everything I thought I knew and believed about dogs. I loved my old dog Bear. It was because of my relationship with Bear that I rebelled at the CAT Institute. I even formed a Cats Who Love Dogs Support Group….now I am lost.<br /><br /><em>What is this monster they call Max?!?!?!</em> Why does he bark at me even after I go at him with a right cross?? Why does he keep growing??? I had no idea that house dogs were this big! I thought the Great Dane I met at the vet was some cross breed with a horse or a giraffe or something. </span><span style="color:#ffffff;"><strong>OMG!!! Was my Bear even a Dog????<br /></strong><br /></span><span style="color:#ffffff;"><strong><em><span style="font-size:130%;">HAS MY ENTIRE LIFE BEEN A LIE?????<br /><br /></span></em></strong>Well, as you can see, I’ve become a slight bit fragile in the past month. I have decided that it is time for me to return to the CAT institute from my early blog posts and see if the counselors there can work me through this.<br /><br />In the meantime, I will hope that the girls have some success with their cohabitation plans. I am sure that there is a way to accomplish this, but I have been emotionally and intellectually drained by this whole situation and I just can’t seem to grasp an appropriate answer.<br /><br />Anyway. I’ve got to take some time to recompose myself, regain some composure—go to some group therapy in a friendly all-cat environment.<br /><br />I will put together a plan when I return….unless the girls have a solved our dilemma.<br /><br />Frito<br /><br /><br /></span></span></div>Frito the Fat Cat Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08526736663260424802noreply@blogger.com0