Catsitting, Episode 2: Attack of the Cats

In keeping with the horror theme of last post, I was awoken at 5am this morning by a phone call. It was a text message (which apparently can be delivered to phones, with a computer-voice reading out the text) from a local number I didn't recognize. All that it said was "Are you sleeping?"

Now I don't know about you, but I find that hearing a disembodied, mechanical voice ask me "are you sleeping" at 5 in the morning is pretty freaky. If I had a cell phone, I would have texted back "It's 5-frickin'-o'clock in the AM. When do you normally sleep? And why are you texting me when it just rings the phone anyways? PS I will find you."

My last day. The cats meow incessently. I feed them but they meow more. I pet them but they meow more. I don't know what more they want from me!!! Just like my last cat-sitting, this gig has once again convinced me that I shouldn't own cats.

A final observation: I found a catnip toy and threw it to Piggie. She went nuttier than Mr. Peanut. I think that cat has a problem; this must make me an enabler.

My days mostly consist of listening to the Ambient music station on Doug and Lisa's TV, reading journal articles, watching South Park, and checking email. The Ambient music channel is great, but I have to admit when it's late at night and no one else is in the house with you and the music sounds like it's from a horror movie soundtrack, you have to wonder if you're not tempting fate a little bit.

Mojo has been waking me up between 7 and 7:30. This will not do. I predict the basement door may close with him still downstairs. Though he meows quite loudly so I may still hear him. Piggie's also more vocal than my last time here. I wish I still intimidated her with my stranger-ness. Maybe if I grow a beard.

To date: No puke (that I've found, at least). Piggie purrs for me. Dishwashing detergent is located in an easy-to-find, convenient location. It's like Bizarro-world cat-sitting: nothing is going wrong this time around. More than likely, this means fire will consume the house at some point. I better go check where the fire extinguisher is.

I've a new appreciation for Greco-Roman wrestling. After engaging in what can only be described as spectacular struggles with Mojo each day to get him to swallow his pill, I think knowing how to do a suplex or two would be quite handy.

Oi. Technically it's 12:17 AM on Monday but this is more of a Sunday post. Finished Harry Potter just now. Have ignored cats most of the day. They seem fine with that, so long as I feed them. While I've never babysat, I wonder if kids could be treated the same way? Must share this new parenting technique with Doug and Lisa.

I wake up this morning, open the bedroom door, and look down. There's a mess on the floor. Cat puke, specifically.

Welcome back to cat-sitting with Mojo and Piggie.

Yes it's true - we're back for another 10 days while Doug, Lisa, and Norah (who recently repeated the word "Lance" back to me - I feel special!) are away on vacation. Leaving me with the primary job of cleaning cat puke and the secondary job of giving the cats more food with which they can create the puke for the primary job.

Which brings us to my first activity this morning - attempting to clean said puke. Made more difficult by the fact that the Breeping's have run out of carpet cleaner. This means I'll have to run out and get some today, but I'm torn, as I also have to go back to my own home to make sure I'm there when Harry Potter arrives. I can either miss Harry Potter or let the stain sink into the carpet.

Funny, the way I wrote that, you would think there's a decision to make.

My friend recently told me the story about how her pet Gerbil died in its HabitTrail tube, and she couldn't get it out.

While tragic, it made me think about how those tubes, a vacuum cleaner set to reverse, and a gerbil would make a wicked gerbil pea shooter. I envision the gerbil/hamster/miscellaneous rodentia flying through the air, paws spinning back and forth, until it hits its target and proceeds to bury itself in said target's shirt, hair, coat, pants (if you're Richard Gere), etc.

I'm sure some of you are aghast at the idea, but c'mon - the hilarity! In any case, I don't have a vacuum cleaner that sucks, much less blows, so your pets are safe.

Incidentally, having a broken vacuum cleaner that won't suck totally makes the comment "My vacuum cleaner sucks" misleading.

So the other day I got a chain email that said "Send this out to 15 friends in the next 13 minutes or you will be doomed to bad luck!" A number of thoughts, and this is purely hypothetical (I'd like to think I have 15 friends. I'd count them but I only have so many fingers):

- What if I didn't have 15 friends to send it out to? Why do I get assessed a "friendless" penalty of being doomed to bad luck because I don't have enough friends? Isn't this like kicking someone when they're down? "You have no friends - and now you have bad luck! Ahahahahaha!"

- To avoid the bad luck, should I start mailing out to random people so as to meet the 15 person quota? Wouldn't that annoy the people who get the email? How, exactly, does that create 'good luck', by pissing off random strangers?

- What's with the 13 minute time limit? Is that tacked on there so I have a chance to make some friends quickly to hit the magic number 15? If I haven't made 15 friends to this point in my life, am I likely to hit a groove where I can get 15 friends in the next 13 minutes?

In short, it seems chain mails like these are thinly disguised attempts by the "cool" kids at my old high school to make me feel bad. I mean, hypothetically.

Anyways, a guy keeps leaving messages on my answering machine, telling me to call my mother. Weird.

Given the popularity of my adventures with the cats (despite the lack of comments here, I hear it's quite the hit with the Friends of Breeping's), I've decided to re-start this blog. Let's see how long it takes for anyone to notice - I can't imagine people are checking it daily anymore. But I was recently told that the old version of this blog was being quoted at parties, so that makes me think there's some interest out there. Plus, lots of *really* boring parties out there too.

While I may now be cat-less, and they were undoubtedly the stars of my last blog (which should be archived somewhere on this page for those interested, or even below this post), hopefully there will be enough entertaining things occurring in my life to keep me interested in posting here.

If not, I'll make some shit up. That's my heartfelt promise to you, my readers.

Piggie has gone back to her under-bed-hiding ways today, as the maid has arrived and given her a good scare. I was also scared when I heard someone unexpectedly banging around downstairs, but at least I didn't hide under the bed. Piggie's a wimp.

Mojo's made a full recovery. The carpets have not. I'm hoping said maid will work some magic, maybe like in Mary Poppins or something, and fix the carpets. If not, I'm thinking I should break out the bleach!

So it turns out my green thumb may be a bit black after all. I watered the plants yesterday and couldn't help but notice that half of them were dying (but not dead!). I overcompensated and gave them more water, which will hopefully help them. However, so far during my house-sitting stay I have: 1) killed plants; 2) broken the computer; 3) made Mojo sick; and 4) Doug's car squeals like a pig sometimes when I start it now. Somehow, I'm doubting I will be getting this gig again. But on the bright side, at least no one has broken in! Assuming, of course, that that is in fact the maid and not a thief. But if she is a thief, she's an obsessive-compulsive thief who cleans as she goes. Though she may just be wiping fingerprints off...

My last full day of house-sitting! Tomorrow Lisa's mom comes and takes over the job. This is likely to be my last post. Thanks for reading! My dream is that this blog will be preserved and when Norah turns 18, Doug and Lisa will show her this blog, and Norah will say:

Who the hell are Piggie and Mojo?

And on the 14th day, the blog rested TWICE AS HARD.

(PS - Mojo's fine now! Can't say the same for the carpets!)

Mojo's sick. Cat puke everywhere like crop circles on the carpet. I was warned that this might happen, but it's something else entirely to see it. If anyone knows of a good way to get stains out of carpets, let me know.

Huzzah! I'm also watering Lisa's plants while she's gone, and an "African Desert Violet" has flowered under my watch. As a non-gardner, I can only assume that a plant with "African Desert" in the name doesn't flower very often.

I credit this miracle to my innate green thumb. I think my mix of once-weekly waterings, plus ignoring the plants the rest of the week, is a very successful plant-management technique. I call it the "tough love" theory of plant management, and the flowering violet proves it works. Of course we would have to ignore the leaves falling off the other plants. I think they were like that when I got here though. Lisa clearly doesn't have my innate green thumb. She'd do well to adopt my tough love theory. But maybe not with respect to Norah.

Hey, look down there at Day 9! A comment! I just noticed. Good to know someone's reading!

So my mother is off to visit relatives for a week, leaving me her car as of today. I go from having no car to having 2 (3 if you count the car in Doug and Lisa's garage, which is supposedly off limits, but which I have used to engage in capers and hijinx ala Ferris Bueller). No cars to 2 cars - when it rains it pours. 'cept, it's not raining. It's definitely not raining cars. And thank god it's not raining men. Yes, truly, I should be counting my blessing, among them, that there are no scattered remains of men and car parts strewn about the streets due to a heavy car-man storm.

Double irony - my relatives are from Carman, Manitoba. I also hear they get a lot of rain.

While attempting to cook up my dinner, I opened up a package of my veggie chicken and found out promptly that it had gone bad, and stunk quite a bit. Opted instead for tacos but couldn't find the "Pam" or other stick-avoiding spray. Decided to use butter, but I didn't have any, so I had to borrow Doug and Lisa's "imitation butter spread" from the fridge, which I'm assuming is *like* butter. I'm now fascinated by this imitation butter spread. Why not real butter? Or margarine? Probably some vegetarian thing.

Speaking of fridges, I also saw a letter from the vet talking about some cat named "Hera" hanging on the fridge. Either I've lost another cat (see Day 1) or I've discovered Piggie's true name. However, given Piggie is a girl, I prefer the name Piggie as it can become Miss Piggie (cf: The Muppets).

This household clearly shops at Costco or some other bulk-buying place - I open a bathroom cabinet and find approximately 400 toilet paper rolls; I open a kitchen cabinet and find around 100 cat food tins and 10 pasta packages. But, when it comes time to use the dishwasher, they have but a single squeeze-bottle of dishwashing liquid, hidden in the back of a cupboard, buried under plastic bags. Took me like 10 minutes to find that bloody thing. It's too bad I can't wash dishes with toilet paper. Maybe I'll try that next time.

This morning Piggie was sitting by the front door, looking up at the door handle. Either she misses Doug and Lisa, or she wanted to go outside. Both seem equally implausible. In any case, there's no way I'm unleashing that cat on an unsuspecting world.

Okay, I was off in my last post. It wasn't an Oct. 2005 expiry date, it was Oct. 2006. That's freaky on many levels - i) How can something last that long and still be considered "best" (as in best before) even once opened, and ii) If I thought it was Oct. 2005, why didn't I throw it out instead of leaving it in the fridge for me to discover my mistake? I think I might go through the fridge and clear out the expired stuff.

The cats seem to fall to the floor, lying on their backs, whenever I come near them. I take this to mean that they want to be petted, not that I have some sort of overpowering stench about me...

Having been here now for over a week, I can make the following conclusions:
1) Having laundry in-house rocks. No more laundromats for me.
2) The ambient music channel on Rogers Cable also rocks. I turn that on, sit down and do some work - it's great.
3) Snow tires on a car are a good thing.
4) I can never own pets. Too much maintenance, having to come home, feed them, and...well, that's about it, but what can I say, I'm a low-maintenance kinda guy.

More computer problems. For some reason, the computer won't run anything Microsoft-related (e.g., Explorer, Word, etc.). Thank god they have Netscape on their computer!

Piggie's now a regular visitor at my door early in the morning. I think she's made the connection between me and food. I used to sleep with the door open, until I woke up with a great weight on my chest. Stress? Heart attack? No, just Mojo walking on me, letting me know it was breakfast time.

I found something in the fridge with an October 2005 expiry date. I was impressed.

And on the seventh day, the blog rested.

Found the first bit of cat puke today. Now, acocording to the Brownian theory of cat barf, if I allow it to sit a few days, it will be easier to clean. Extending this to its logical conclusion, if I don't touch it until they get back, it will be practically self-cleaning. I'm anxious to test this hypothesis.

It turns out Piggie is bipolar. She now lets me pet her, but after about five or six pets, she starts to hiss at me and try to bite me. Women!

Used the jacuzzi today. Read a social comparison article at the same time. Realized this is not as hot a party as I had anticipated.

Progress! Piggie sniffed my hand today when I put it near her, then ran away. I think she's warming up to me.

Speaking of warming up, it was about 15 degrees today. I cruised into school with the window down, tunes blaring, expecting to get appreciative glances from the ladies. I have since discovered that a 1992 purple Saturn is not a babe magnet. Blasting the radio station "Dave FM," which consists of bad 70's tunes and worse 80's tunes, probably didn't help. With this car and radio station, perhaps I should be targeting the senior demographic.

Danny wanted me to mention that he got a goal in soccer the other night. I believe the joy he's experiencing might be the same as the joy you'll experience when Doug and Lisa pick up Norah, so it fits with the theme of this blog.

Saw something out of the corner of my eye today. I think it was Piggie! Very exciting to see her out from under the bed.

Mojo and I engaged in a thrilling game of "attack the shadow" today, where I would shake my head and he would attack the moving shadow of my head on the carpet. Got a headache after a bit and stopped.

Had a panic attack. The computer froze up and I had to reboot. When I rebooted, a screen came up and asked for a password. Doug and Lisa left me no password. Visions of two weeks without internet flashed through my head. Thankfully, I was able to log in normally after I clicked on the "cancel" button that was next to the password prompt, and bypassed this extremely effective security measure. But for my cunning skill with the cancel button, this was almost the shortest-lived blog ever.




For those of you who aren't familiar with our dramatis personae, this is an image of Mojo (with Doug, stolen shamelessly from Doug and Lisa's blog), the friendly cat. Unlike other cats, he's always around, wanting to be petted, jumping up on me, etc.

Piggie, however, has yet to emerge from underneath the various beds, couches, etc. around the house. I imagine if she did, this is what she would look like.

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Or maybe this....

On the plus side, Piggie has started eating. So I forsee no weight loss for Piggie, esp. given she hides under beds all day, getting zero exercise. On the other hand, Mojo burns a lot of calories by headbutting my knees, arms, and head if I ignore him for too long. Maybe I should have named this blog "A tale of two cats".

So far, no cat puke on the carpets, except the one that happened before I got here, and Doug was leaving it to dry because it makes it "easier to clean." Yes, I imagine cat puke is quite easy to clean when you are in China and someone else is cleaning it for you. That's right, I'm on to you.

Realized today that the car's speedometer is in miles, not kilometers. No wonder 60 km/hour felt so fast.

While searching for Mojo the other day, I opened the bathroom door in the basement and discovered a jacuzzi. I anticipate hot parties.

Left work early today to come home and give Mojo his pill, and then do some readings. Spent next 2.5 hours looking through the rooms in the house, increasingly franticly, for Mojo. Opened every room, drawer, cupboard, looking for him, while shouting his name. After deciding the maid must have taken Mojo when she came today, I started to make some dinner before deciding if I should call the police. Heard faint meowing, which I tracked to the furnace room. How the hell Mojo got in there I have no idea. Why he didn't answer me during the 2.5 hours I was shouting his name, I also have no idea. Only Mojo knows.

Piggie hides under the bed all the time and is very easy to locate. Unfortunately, when I give her food, she doesn't eat it. I'm assuming she eats Mojo's leftovers when I'm not looking, otherwise, when Doug and Lisa get back, Piggie may no longer be a piggie.