An Awful Trip

Hi. Gidget here, to tell you about an awful experience I had recently.

Do you see this contraption here? This objet de torture?

My mother, my very own mother, stuffed me into it against my will, and then carried me OUTSIDE!

And then . . . she put me and the contraption into the truck and carried me away from my home!

I was furious! And terrified!

I cried “Ow! Ow! Oooowwwww!” all the way there, but she was oblivious. She kept saying, “It’s OK.”

But, it wasn’t OK. We stopped at a little building and she took me inside, and showed me to a woman who talked to Mom over my head, and then STUCK ME with a NEEDLE! Can you imagine?

Who does that? What did I ever do to deserve such treatment?

I mean, I haven’t even scratched Mom in a long time, and then still, I’m treated this way?

As if being stuck wasn’t bad enough, she made me drink some horrible yellow liquid; from what I could tell it was made of worms. AND . . . she put liquid in my ears! Trying to drown me, I think.

I’m so terribly insulted over this entire ordeal. And my biggest fear was that perhaps Mom was going to leave me there, but she stuffed me back into the torture cage, and back into the truck, and off we went again. I cried “Ow! Ow! Oooowww!” some more, but again, she simply didn’t care. Thankfully, she carried me back home. I was never so relieved in all my life to see my house again!

I had to nap all afternoon to get over it, and even then, the memory is just still so fresh. I’m traumatized. I’ve been sticking close to Mom, but trying not to make eye contact. I mean, I love her and all, but how could she have done this to me? And I know she needs my help with her sewing, and I have that job to do, so I can’t just leave her, even if she did treat me so poorly.

Over time, I’m hoping the horrible memory will fade, and I can patch things up with Mom, and things will get back to normal.

I need time. And treats. Treats should help, don’t you think?

Imprisoned

A prisoner in my own home!

The Cowboy, who runs this place, says I was bad. Says I was living up to my name, Calamity Jane. Says I was causing trouble. Says I have to be in jail for awhile.

I don’t know how long a “while” is, but I maintain I was only doing what any good mother would do.

You see, there’s this calf . . .

It’s not mine, but its mother wasn’t paying any attention to it, so I adopted it.

But those other cows were only visiting, and that cow went home, and took my baby with her.

So I felt sorry for the baby, and I tried to go get her back.

I had to travel quite far . . .

Through fences and gates . . .

And across a pond.

I hollered and hollered, but the Cowboy caught me redhoofed, racing back and forth across the pond bank, in a pasture where he says I wasn’t supposed to be.

But I was desperate — looking for my adopted child.

That dog of his, and that beastly yellow horse . . . they made me go back to the barn. Without my baby.

And now I’m in jail. Indefinitely.

I’m still protesting.

But the Cowboy says that baby isn’t mine, and I can’t just go stealing other cow’s children, and tearing down fences, and going places I’m not supposed to.

These are all crimes, and now I must pay. I’m really wondering how long a “while” really is.

At least the meals are good!

I’m The Princess

My name is Gidget.

I can’t be the Queen, because Miss Kitty is already the queen, so I’m the Princess, but that’s all right.

Today is my birthday, and I’m five years old.

Mom says I’m only an indoor cat because I got off to such a rough start outside that she and Dad felt sorry for me and brought me indoors to save my life. As I think is only right, for heaven’s sake!

I could have died out there!

I was little, but wasn’t I adorable?

I’ve always enjoyed a good nap . . .

No matter my age . . .

I’ve always enjoyed reading . . .

And it’s my main goal in life to convince Mom to just hold me 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. I see nothing wrong with it, so I keep working on her.

Here’s my birthday picture on my first birthday. See how much I grew in just one year?

I wouldn’t let Mom take my picture today. I didn’t think she needed to. She takes enough embarrassing pictures of me, usually while I’m sleeping and can’t do anything about it.

I love to help Mom with her quilting.

She usually needs help keeping her fabric stash in line . . .

. . . but it’s exhausting!

It just completely wears me out!

I get soooo tired!

You simply have no idea how tired.

But Mom doesn’t seem to mind, and she still lets me help when I wake up again. I wonder if I’ll still like naps this much in another 5 years?

Suffering Indignities

That man showed up today at the ranch.

The one with the beard . . .

 . . . and all the tools. Yeah, him.

That one they call the “farrier”. Hmpf!

Chip likes the guy, for whatever reason, and usually Chip is the only one who has to deal with him. You see, Chip wears shoes, but I don’t have to, so Chip has to deal with this guy more often than I do.

The farrier messes with your feet. It does feel good to get your feet cleaned off and trimmed up. You don’t trip on things as much, and it’s easier walking. (But don’t tell Mom and Dad I think that.)

And although I’ve done it before, today I just didn’t feel like it. But they made me anyway.

Oh, the indignity!

It was gonna be OK until Dad made me eat this stuff he calls “wormer”. Have you ever tasted that stuff? Yuck!

So then I got mad, and decided I didn’t want to be nice to the farrier.

I let him do one front foot, and then decided to show myself.

But . . . I was tied to a tree by my head! Really?!

I tried to knock him down, but when he said he was OK, I knew I had to step up my game, so I wouldn’t let him pick up my back foot.

Then I heard him say something like, “They can teach themselves a lesson better than we can teach it to them . . . ” and he looped a rope around my foot.

He pulled my foot off the ground even though I didn’t want to lift it up, so I kicked. I kicked and I kicked and I kicked, but the loop wouldn’t fall off.

What’s even more embarrassing is having those stupid cows watching me. Sure, they can laugh — this never happens to them.

I finally quit kicking, and let my leg relax, which kinda felt good. So I decided to let him do that one foot.

But I’d have another chance or two to show myself yet. I rested for awhile while he did that foot.

We had to go through it all again with the other back foot. I kicked and kicked and kicked, but that loop would not come off. I even hopped a little, but the bearded man won, and I gave in and let him work on my foot.

But I lifted my tail and dumped a little gift on the ground for him right under his nose, in protest. Just to make sure he knew what I was really thinking.

It was over fairly quickly, just not soon enough for me. Thank goodness I only have four feet!

I heard Mom mutter something about being ashamed of me, and Dad took me back out to the pasture.

But I also heard her tell Dad that she still loves me, and she’s not gonna “sell” me, whatever that means.

Do you know how much grass I had to eat to get rid of that taste in my mouth?

I’m 9! I’m 9!

Today is my birthday! I’m officially 9 years old.

Feel free to sing “Happy Birthday to Moooollllllleeeeeeee” anytime you’re ready. I’ll even sing along. I’m a good singer. It’s just that Mom doesn’t like it when I sing at 5:00 in the morning.

I’ve decided I like it here at the ranch, so I guess I’ll stay.

I’m here today with a little doggie wisdom . . .

Nine things I’ve learned just since being here, in honor of my nine years:

1 ) Keep your tail down . . . sometimes. Those wires around the pasture — they’re called electric fence. If you don’t keep your tail down when you pass under, you get shocked. Getting shocked hurts and makes you yelp. I know, because I’ve tried it 4 or 5 times now. But I’m learning to keep my tail down . . .

2 ) Catz don’t like dogs much. But that’s OK. I’m not real fond of them, either, because they hurt, too. Just in a different way than the electric fence. I really want to chase them sometimes, but Mom says I’m wiser to just leave them alone. And when I chase them, Dad yells . . . really loud.

3 ) Aunt Kate likes dogs a lot. She pets me and treats me like I’ve been here all along. She didn’t even get mad at me for jumping into her car, although she still wouldn’t take me for a ride. I’ve learned that when Mom and Dad have company, I can’t jump into every car that comes to visit.

4 ) The ranch is a scary place outside after dark. Dad says those noises are coyotes, but I don’t really want to find out firsthand. I finally cried at the door enough that they let me come inside and sleep by the bed at night. It’s much safer there, and they don’t even mind that I snore a lot.

5 ) The ranch is a busy place during the day. I can hardly keep track of everyone. It’s especially hard when Dad goes one way and Mom goes another. It makes me anxious. What if I miss out on something by choosing the wrong one to go with?

6 ) Ranch food? Well, let’s just say the pickin’s are slim. They expect me to eat plain ol’ dog food. Every meal! I’m wasting away to nothing! I’ve had a couple treats, and have even resorted to cleaning up the cat food left outside, but still . . . somethin’s gotta give. Maybe I’ll at least get a birthday treat today. I vote for steak!

7 ) Mind your manners. When you are finally granted access to the house (as is your right), behave yourself as much as possible so that you don’t get ushered back outside. Unceremoniously. Especially at night. I usually try to find an out-of-the-way spot and lay down for a nap. Then they forget I’m even inside. Until I start snoring. And, under no circumstances, should you ever chase the indoor catz.

8 ) Only play with your own toys. I was helping Mom and Dad patch the roof yesterday afternoon, and while waiting, I found a fuzzy chicken, and thought it looked like it might be fun to play with. Mom saw me pick it up and she hollered at me and ran to “rescue” the chicken. I thought she was gonna pass out. I guess it’s HER special chicken and I can’t share it with her. I have put in a request for a toy of my own. Mom says if I’m a good girl at the vet tomorrow, she’ll get me one.

9 ) Pay attention. Paying attention makes life a lot easier. It’s how I’ve learned all these things in just the two weeks I’ve been here! And if you always place yourself at the ready, you get more pets, and more snacks, and more opportunities for helping. And you can sometimes sneak into the house even when it’s not dark outside!

Oh, and one more thing — don’t play in the road. In fact, don’t even go near the road — that makes them both yell — loud! (And don’t sing at 5:00 a.m.)

My Turn To Help

Hi! Purrl here . . .

Mom had to take some quilt pictures the other day, and it was finally my turn to help.

Frankly, I don’t know how she would have managed without me, either.

Here I am, trying to decide how best to go about this. It’s a rather large expanse to cover, and I’m a small thing. Plus, I’m also trying to make sure that no one else is going to try to intervene into my moment of glory. I’d have to run them off . . .

Just checking to make sure there’s no one hiding underneath . . .

We’ve got some sneaky ones around here.

I guess the coast is clear, so now the modeling can commence . . .

This thing is nice! I could just stay here all day . . .

But of course, just when I get all comfy, Mom says the photo shoot is over, so I’m off to find another comfy place to spend the rest of my day . . .

I really do need a nap, because that helping thing is just so exhausting. And with all the hats I wear around here to try and keep this ranch running smoothly, I’m sure you can see why . . . it’s like herding cats!

Oh, and Mom says this is a free quilt pattern, so if you’re interested, you can find it here: Sasparilla Trails. Go download it and make one for your cat!

My New Forever Home

Hi, I’m Molly.

I just recently came to live on the ranch. Actually, today is my first day here.

I’m a black Labrador Retriever, and I’ll soon be nine years old.

I never thought I’d em-bark on a new adventure at the people age of 63, but hey, you’re never too old to try something new.

That saying about not being able to teach old dogs new tricks? It’s malarkey.

Dad gave me a brand new orange collar — I think it goes good with my complexion.

I’ve always been a city dog, but I think I’m really gonna love it here.

There’s a lot to see, and do, and learn.

I’ve learned a couple new things just my first day here, in fact.

There are these little furry creatures that the parents call “catz”, and Mom calls them cute and cuddles them, and they make this “ththththtrrrrrring” sound when she’s petting them.

Well, I got close to one of them this morning, and it suddenly morphed into a whirling, hissing creature with about 20 arms, and those arms had sharp things on the ends of them, and it attacked me!

Just for trying to say hello! Talk about the ultimate in rudeness!

It made my tongue bleed, and I cried, and Mom hugged me and said it would be OK — just to stay away from them and I’d be all right. I think I’ll take her word for it.

I also heard Mom say that she’s putting me on a “diet”. I’m not sure what that is, but I think it’ll be fun. She also said she was going to take me to get “spayed”, so there’s apparently a road trip in my future. Yep, I think I’m gonna like it here!

Oh, The Humiliation

Yesterday was a pretty nice day.

Mom had all the windows open, and there were breezes, and I could hear and see all these birds outside.

So I found myself a good perch, and when I was tired of watching those birds, I decided I’d just nap here in the breezes.

Mom thought I was cute, so she took my picture. And she’s right, I am pretty cute most of the time.

Mom put down her camera and walked away, so I was gettin’ all comfy, and I yawned and stretched, and . . . there was a crack and a whooshing sound, and all of a sudden, I was falling!

That barrier thingie between me and the birds had disappeared, and I. Was. Outside.

In the grass.

Vulnerable.

Alone.

My feet were on the ground.

I was totally humiliated.

Mortified.

Terrified.

I heard Mom spout out a word I don’t think she was supposed to say, and then heard her running.

I jumped back up into the window, to get my feet out of the dirt and tell her what had happened. When she came to my rescue, she asked me if I was OK, but she was snickering, so I’m not sure she really cared that I had just been endangered. I mean, really!

This is no laughing matter. I was out there for at least a full 6 seconds. Anything could have happened!

I showed her the barrier thingie there on the ground and tried to tell her what happened. She picked it up and put it back on, and Dad came over to help her clip it in place. I think that word she said made him come running. But back to me . . .

I could have been nabbed by any number of horrible things out there in the yard. I’ve heard them talking. I guess I’m just glad it was daytime, because they say nighttime is even more dangerous.

And Mom told Dad she was glad that I wasn’t upstairs when this happened. And she said I was a good girl for jumping back into the window instead of running off.

Pfft! Running off? Where would I go, pray tell? I know my place, and it is NOT outside!

Fortunately, nothing was injured except my pride, but I’ve decided not to lounge in that particular window for awhile. It took extra bathing to get over the incident, but I think I’m gonna be OK.

Today I’m upstairs bird watching. The window barrier thingie up here seems a bit more sturdy, but I’m not gonna lean on it just the same. And Mom still thinks I’m cute . . .

Takin’ Pictures

A good horse’s work is never done.

There’s always something to do or someone who needs my help around here.

Especially Mom, when she’s taking pictures for a new quilt she’s made. She always brings them right to me so I can help her.

I try to be good help and look my best, but sometimes we have to deal with adverse weather conditions and other critters, too. For some reason, those cats think they can help, too, and they think they’re more photogenic than me, which is just not so.

While Mom adjusts the quilt, I try different poses. I mean, I want to show my best side!

You tell me. Does this side look better? It might, except for it looks like I have my nose stuck on the fencepost. See? This is not as easy as it looks!

I help make adjustments . . .

And sometimes I have little accidents . . . oops!

Sometimes I just have to be real patient while we wait for the wind to die down or that dog to get in the right position . . .

How about this shot?

And here’s another one that’s all right.

See how handsome I am? I’m sure I’ll get to help with more photo shoots in the future. I think it just makes the picture better to have me in it.

Meanwhile, I’ll keep fit by chasing Bonnie and PeeWee around the pasture. They hate to run, which just makes it even more fun for me.

I’m Chip, and I’m a horse model (among other things). A good horse’s work is never done.