While The Girl's Away

Hi everyone, Katie here.

While Glogirly is away, you-know-who is going to play! Thanks to my Secret Paws (Tiger Lily, Zeke & Sushi) and thanks to Santa the big guy himself, I've got lots of cool new toys to play with.

I thought it would be fun to take a little time out from my staycation to talk with you, my extra special blogging friends. So many of you left very touching comments on my Merry Merry Christmas blog about Gabe the Marine. I thought you might like to get to know him a little better. When I first started out my blog I did a little feature on him that I think you might enjoy.

Just click HERE to take a peek!

Pee. S. Gabe has been promoted since my blog feature on him from Private First Class (PFC) to Lance Corporal. That's LCpl Gabe to those of you in the know. He is also an "Expert" marksman. Best to stay out of his way I guess.

Semper Fidelis

Merry Merry Christmas!

Hi everyone, Katie here.

It's a picture perfect Christmas here in Minneapolis. Nearly two feet of softly falling snow, yummy food to eat, warm blankets to nap under and the people I love. What more could a kitty ask for!

Even Gabe the Marine came home for Christmas. I haven't seen him in over a year! So I made this really cool sign for Glogirly and Gloman to greet him with at the airport. Gabe and I have a special relationship. Even though a lot of time passes between our visits, I don't hiss at him at all. We have lots of great conversations about girls and catnip.

Glogirly (GG), Gloman (The Other One) & Gabe (The Marine)

I'm hiding upstairs

As Glogirly and I count our many blessings, we want to especially thank all of our friends in the blogosphere for their friendship, kind words and laughs this year. It's our first year trying out this whole blogging thing and we had no idea how many wonderful people, cats, and even dogs we would meet from all over the world. From the bottom of our hearts...

Merry Christmas & Happy New Year!

May the new year bring all you wish for.

This is my "I Love Portraits" expression.

On a side note... I am being abandoned. Again.

Glogirly, Gloman and Gabe are going up north skiing for a few days. Between you and me, I'm fine with that. I'll have full run of the townhouse, a giant food bowl filled to the brim and all the uninterrupted naptime I could possibly hope for. I'm a little worn out from the holidays and need some quality R&R. But let's keep this quiet... The more guilt I can pile on Glogirly, for the abandonment and all, the better. Keeps me in the driver's seat.

XOXO, Over and out.

2009 was super fine,

But 2010 will be tasty as chick-hen!

So I may be gone for a few days, but I'll be...

love,

Katie

Indie Kitty

Hi everyone, Katie here.

I'm an Indie Kitty! I'm an Indie Kitty! What's an Indie Kitty you ask? Well to answer this we must first uncover the many meanings of Indie.

'INDIE'

The Urban Dictionary defines Indie as "Cooler than Emo." Now I don't know who this Emo guy is, but I'm going to assume he's very cool. The Urban Dictionary goes on to note that Indie is an informal version of Independent. Here's where it gets even cooler: Indie has come to symbolize originality and forward-thinking.

So as an Indie Kitty, I am an independent, original, forward-thinking, cooler than emo CAT. Now how cooler than emo is THAT!!

How did I earn my Indie Status?

Why, Indie Smiles of course.

My good friend Linda G. Jones is an artist, writer and blogger who frequently contributes articles to IndieSmiles.com. She decided it would be fun to do a story on blogging cats. After diving head first into our blogosphere, Linda stumbled onto my blog and has gotten to know me over the past couple of months. ... and since to know me is to love me, she included me and two other great blogging cats in her latest article. She put together a fabulous slide show for each of us as well. There's music, captions, the whole nine yards.

So be sure to click on over to Indie Smiles and take a peek at Linda's article and the slide shows.

CLICK HERE

for Segment 2 on Katie

CLICK HERE

for Beginning of Article

Thanks, Linda! You're the best.

Just call me Indie Kitty Katie.

Pee. S.

I know, I know... it's Christmas Eve. So where's the tree? Where's the presents? Where's my Christmas Eve post??? Well, Linda's article will only be up for a couple of days and I wanted to make sure I told you all about it. It's my Christmas present to her! Merry Christmas Linda!

Besides... there's more to come from me and my girl on Christmas! xxoo

My Secret Paws Came!

Hi everyone, Katie here.

My Secret Paws came! My Secret Paws Came! I'm somebody! I'm somebody!

Today was the best day EVER!!!!!! The man inthe big blue parka and giant hat brought a package to the door with MY, that's right, MY name on it. It even said Ms. Katie. I think that's very sophisticated.

I knew immediately my Secret Paws friends were very special!

So Glogirly left me sniff out the box a bit before we opened it.

Black Cat and Red Dog wanted in on the action but I said not on your fake furry lives.

The box came all the way from Roswell, New Mexico, so I was a little concerned there might be an alien spaceship inside. But when Glogirly shook the box for me I knew that there was nothing extraterrestrial about those beautiful jingle sounds.

So she helped me tear though the box. There was some very fancy animal print celophane with pretty green tissue inside. VERY beautiful, and crackly too! Also a pretty card from my SecretPaws, ... Inside the pretty package was a huge stash of KITTY LOOT!

There were Tuna Temptations and a super cool feather toy. I tried to eat the feather and Glogirly had to explain it wasn't a Tuna Tempatation.

There were fast spinning balls with bells inside and crunchy paper pieces poking outside. PERFECT for reaching warp speed on the hardwood floors.

I can't wait to trip up Gloman.

And best of all.....RED MOUSE!!!!!

I can't wait to show him off to Red Dog and Black Cat.

They are going to be so jealous.

Oh, I can't forget the feathers... the feather toy is totally cool!

I don't know which end to go after, and I don't care.

It's all FUN, FUN, FUN!

Thank you soooooooooooooooooooooooooo much to my dear friends Tiger Lily, an awsome cat, and her two doggie brothers, Zeke and Sushi. I've never gotten a present from a dog before and I'm very, well, I'm touched. This whole experience is causing me to revaluate my ordinarily rigid impressions of these four-legged barkers. Zeke and Sushi are pretty sweet. In fact, I'd like to make them honorary Townhouse Cats. Just don't tell their friends, they'll all be jealous. Tiger Lily has got a very cool blog... be sure to check it out:

Tiger Lily's Pad.

Thank you Tiger Lily!

You & your woofies are awesome Secret Paws.

Merry Christmas from Katie & Glogirly.

I Am Stealth Kitty

Hi everyone, Katie 

Thank you for your deep concern and comments you have shared regarding my food and litter box plight. In the face of intruders and houseguests, especially those bearing pajamas and toothbrushes, I have been forced to resort to extreme measures to insure my safety and well being.

I Am Stealth Kitty.

As Stealth Kitty I am able to slink through the townhouse in the wee hours of the night without detection. I am able to pass through the living room where the intruders in feet pajamas snore away, oblivious to my stealth-like moves, and continue into the kitchen where my food and water dish wait quietly for me. After a quick refueling, I move on, slithering down the steps to the danger zone known as the guest (intruder) sleeping room. I must enter the room undetected, sneak silently past the bed and finally, into the bathroom. MY bathroom. This is where my box resides. Mind you I must pass within only 3 feet of the smelly snorer as they snooze away on one of MY beds. I also take great care to limit the fervor with which I dig in my box. The last thing I need is a middle-of-the night close encounter in my bathroom.

Once my business is done I quickly exit the intruders room and make my way up the winding staircases of the townhouse. Another quick pit stop for sustenance.

It's dark and scary, but my mask gives me secret night vision powers. And my cape keeps me safe from flying blankets or pillows should the sleeping intruders regain consciousness and become defensive.

I Am Stealth Kitty.

But you won't hear me roar.

The Hunted

Hi everyone Katie here.

It's been quite a week here at the townhouse. Parties and intruders. Intruders and parties. I had glorious plans of participating in Hunt Week, sponsored by my good friend Fin over atHousecat Confidential.

I had the photo shoot all planned, right down to the most intricate details. I made sure Glogirly's camera was all charged up and ready to go. I was going have her photograph me in a series of classic hunt poses. Hiding around the corner of the staircase with my eyes on Black Cat. Crouching low to the ground as I stalk Red Dog.

Instead of enjoying the thrill of the hunt,

I have become...

The Hunted.

Smelly strangers wandering the townhouse, calling out "Here Kitty!" "Where are you Kitty?" "Kitty! Come out, come out, wherever you are!" Yeah right. Would you like fries with your nice big glass of Hiss?

Last night's guests didn't leave until late this morning for crying out loud. They brought pajamas AND toothbrushes. Sheesh! One slept by my food. The other by my box. It was a dicey night, I tell you.

So I've spent most of the week crouched not as a Hunter but as the Hunted. I've checked the calendar and it appears there will be no more "planned" intruders prior to Christmas. I'm not breathing easy yet though. You can never be too careful.

Pee S: Thank you so much for your encouraging comments. I know many of you have been advising me to give these intruders a chance. You know, six laps are better than two, etc... Well that's all fine and good, but it's not in my Cat Handbook. I've re-read the section on hissing and visitors. As far as I can tell, it's no accident that hissing and visitors are addressed in one chapter. They go hand in hand.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

I'll Never Trust Red Dog Again

Hi everyone, Katie here.

Red Dog has failed me. He's supposed to stand guard downstairs by the front door and make sure that no intruders are allowed passage into the townhouse. Well apparently he missed the memo about party guests and their obvious intruder status.

Not only is the idiot dog wearing Glogirly's hat, and I must say he looks ridiculous, the poor excuse for a guard dog just stood by and let not one, not two, but SIX intruders into the townhouse tonight.

This party crept up on me like a snake in the grass.

All of a sudden, there was music playing and candles burning.

I heard noises and ran to the front window to get a look. Cars in the townhouse driveway. Not good. I barely had time for a quick snack and drink before the doorbell alarm sounded and I was forced to retreat.

Even as I write this, at the wee hour of 2:00 am, Gloman is still downstairs entertaining them. Glogirly apparently had the sense to say her goodnights and come upstairs to bed. But even as she sleeps, I am still on full alert. I will not eat, drink, groom, poop or sleep until they are gone.

I heard talk of pajamas. This is not a good sign. If one of more of them have packed their pajamas, I may have to wait until everyone is passed out before I can safely navigate back to my food dish and litter box.

I will keep you apprised of my situation.

Party At The Townhouse

Hi everyone, Katie here.

The holidays can be hard. For many, Christmastime is filled with ups and downs. Just when I think it can't get any better... the excitement of a fresh tree, the twinkle of sparkly lights, tempting dangly ornaments, and PRESENTS with my name on them... I hear the word I wish Glogirly would just banish from her vocabulary.

Party.

Don't get me wrong, I'm all for parties as long as the venue is somewhere OTHER than the townhouse.

There are warning signs, that's for sure. It generally starts with a thorough townhouse cleaning. I'm fine with that. I'm a very neat cat. I like order. I like clean. Everything in it's place means less time wasted on my daily rounds and more time devoted to napping.

When the vacuum comes out though, I know she means business.

It's no accident that Glogirly's vacuum is a Dyson Animal.

And when the microfiber cloths come out, well... it's beyond serious. All stainless appliances, including the ham safe, ham cookers, and the ham plate washer, are going to get a once over with that nasty, smelly cleaner that sounds like a snake when Glogirly squirts it.

Dust will be considered the enemy and Mrs. Meyers our friend, as every mirror, every window, EVERY surface imaginable is wiped to a sparkling shine.

Mrs. Meyers and I, we have the same eyes.

Still there is time.

One, maybe two days.

Time enough to take the Christmas decorations over the top. Much like cleaning, I believe the more decorations the merrier. But even so, underneath all that glitter lies a warning. Party guests.

So when the dining room table is set with all the tall sparkly breakable stuff and yummier than normal smells start wafting their way from the kitchen, I know that invasion is imminent.

Now only a few hours stand between me and the smelly doorbell-ringing strangers... er, I mean party guests.

Music and candlelight. Romantic? I think not. More like T minus 30. These two final warning shots occur approximately one half hour before the doorbell alarm sounds, announcing the arrival of the first intruder.

It's important I make sure I'm well hydrated and fed. Litterbox needs should have already been attended to. Favorite toys stashed. It may be a while before I can refuel or safely use my box again. Of course it's not impossible, but I run the risk of a close encounter with one, two or even a gang of these strangers.

When the doorbell rings, I'm off. I dash upstairs and under the bed. Meanwhile, Glogirly & Gloman make lots of noise entertaining these so-called strangers. There's lots of loud shoes, annoying laughter, even an occasional shriek. I think they're drinking. They better stay away from my dish.

Finally, after what seems like days, I hear the front door shut for the last time. It's about time. I come trotting down the steps with my nonchalant "What? Did you have a party or something? I hadn't noticed" look on my face.

I instinctively know that my townhouse is once again mine.

All mine.