Since the weather was cold yesterday Mommie decided it was time to work on her income tax return. Mommie sometimes waits till the last minute to do things. She says “I work better with a deadline.” Whatever that means.

As she always does, she spread the information into piles on the bed. Apparently that is her sorting system. She invited me to get on the bed so I could do my nine to ten hour afternoon nap. I jumped up on the bed as she asked.

Unfortunately, it was much more fun to play in the piles of paper. She tried to lure me to the pillow where I always sleep, but that piece of tuna didn't do the trick yesterday. I was more interested in jumping (and sleeping) on the receipts. Deep down I know Mommie didn't want to scold me, but she did. Mommie is not a happy camper when it comes to taxes; she hates the job and I was making it worse for her.

I finally went to the pillow when Mommie said, through gritted teeth, “get off the bed.” I knew she really meant for me to get off the receipts.

By the way what are “gritted teeth”? 


Yesterday when Mommie went to town, she left Patches and me alone in the house. Since I already had my nine hours of morning / afternoon sleep, I decided to do some exploring. In Mommie's office I found some paperwork to “rearrange”. I knocked off the telephone to the floor and scratched the leather on Uncle Tom's chair. Patches was still getting his “beauty sleep” (and, boy does he need that!!) so he wasn't around to tattle.

Then I went to the dining room. I spotted a big yellow ball on top of the china hutch and decided I really needed to get to it. I jumped on top of the table (no problem), then onto the antique china cabinet which is a couple feet away from the table and a couple feet closer to the hutch (a little harder to do). My last jump was about eighteen inches from the cabinet and two feet taller. I did my best Superman jump.

SUCCESS!! I was on top of the hutch. That ball was a balloon that bacon (Keith) lost yesterday when he was here. When I reached for it, P-O-P. That scared me so much I almost lost my balance on the narrow ledge on the hutch.

That POP brought Patches as fast he could run. He looked at me with his “I'm-going-to-tell-Mommie eyes”. I had a lot worse problem than Patches – the antique cabinet had a sharp crown around the top. I didn't notice it when I jumped, but looking from atop the hutch, the odds looked awful. I shut my eyes and jumped.

I'm here to tell you I made it (barely) and Patches felt so sorry for me he didn't even tattle. Mommie found the office mess and scolded both of us. After all, Patches could have been the one to scratch the chair.  


Really! Mommie has told me repeatedly NOT to play around the storage shed when she is inside working. She says it would be too easy for me to get shut inside when she leaves. That storage shed is big and there are several hiding places where she wouldn't necessarily see me. After the episode with getting shut in the shop, I make it my duty to get out of places before Mommie or Uncle Tom go out.

Well, yesterday the wind was blowing hard and it got a grip on the open door and started to slam it shut. Of course, I was inside where I wasn't supposed to be. I was starting to go out because I heard Mommie say she was going to the house.

I made it ALMOST all the way out when the door began slamming shut. I heard Mommie scream “Sparkles, get out NOW!” I felt the wind blowing and got my tail out just in time. My tail hair stood on end for at least two minutes. That was a close one!

Mommie picked me up and cuddled me for a couple minutes. She didn't even give me her “I-told-you-so" lecture.  She was so happy that I still had my tail (me too). I love Mommie.


Yesterday Mommie brought Keith and Kevin (bacon and tuna) over to play while their Mommie went to the doctor. Fortunately they did not bring their terrorizing dog, Rusty, with them. Instead they brought their laser “guns”.***

Mommie said she was glad that kids nowadays play with “laser” guns rather than cap pistols. She had to explain cap pistols to the boys. Her guns came apart in the center so she could load a reel of caps. Every time she pulled the trigger, the caps coming out of the gun in line with the part that was pulled back so the trigger could fire, the caps would go BANG. Laser beams are silent.

I know I would not have liked the bang guns, and I don't like the laser ones either. Those beams are confusing. Even though they said they were shooting at each other, it seemed to me that they kept pointing that laser at me. I looked one way, there was a ray. I looked the other way, another ray. My head was spinning. After a while I got dizzy just trying to avoid those rays. If I would have had a white flag I would have waved it.

Boy, was I glad when they went home. Poor Patches' head is still spinning.

Does anyone know the meaning behind the “white flag” expression?

***Mommie said these beams were not really laser beams because real laser beams can destroy things. She said they were just red beams of light which become a dot when it hits something in its way.   


I knew something was amiss when Mommie came home smelling like d-o-g (?). Usually when she visits her friends, she comes home smelling like another cat. I am a little jealous of the other cats she sees, but a DOG? That is going too far! I know I can compete against any other cat – I am her perfect kitty – at least that is what she tells me.

I don't know how to be better than a dog. Mommie kept blabbing about this cute, gorgeous, wonderful, cuddly, sweet dog. And he weighs less than I do. He is some kind of miniature poodle because Mommie said he is about my size, only cuddlier (?). How can that be? I am the most cuddly animal on the planet!

When I go to sleep on Mommie's shoulder, I put my paws around her neck and lick her neck. It is a ritual and if I don't go to sleep that way, Mommie is disappointed. Mommie says that is what makes me cuddly. I am going to think this through because I love Mommie the best!



The other day when Keith and Kevin were waiting for the school bus, Kevin broke away from his mommie's grip on his left hand and declared that he was too old to hold his mommie's hand. Keith hesitated a bit, but agreed with Kevin. It almost broke her heart. But, she noted “they are six years old and it is time for me to 'let go' of their hands at the bus.” She doesn't want her twins to be teased as “babies”.

I let Mommie pet and cuddle me any time she wants to. I don't care that I am probably about sixteen years old in people years; and, I don't care who sees it. I LOVE my Mommie. I know it would hurt Mommie much more than me if we didn't show how much we care for each other. Besides, I kinda like it. 


When Mommie left this morning I was sound asleep on her bed taking my eight to ten hour morning / afternoon nap. She petted me quietly as she went out the door.

When she came home I hardly recognized her. She had real legs; they weren't covered with jeans or slacks – she had on a skirt so they were bare. Even at night she has her legs covered with jammies so I hardly ever see them.

Mommie caught me staring at her legs so she invited me to rub my body against them. It was fun to feel a part of her body that wasn't attached to her neck or hands. I went back and forth between her legs rubbing the calves. When she told me where to rub and what they were called, I expected to hear a b-a-a-a from a baby cow. Instead she pointed to the fattest part of her lower legs.

All at once I felt a little jolt as I rubbed my nose. It seems she had a couple little hairs standing up on end which actually made my nose tingle. But only a couple because her skin was actually very s-m-o-o-t-h.

Mommie has legs. Mommie has legs. Mommie has….


The birds are singing, the grass is turning green, and the pollen is out. It is too early for little birds, but I do like to hear the bird mommies sing – they sound a lot better than when Mommie sings. At least the birds have a melody; Mommie sounds like a knife scratching a pan.

Green grass. Wow, I like green grass. Green grass is much smoother than the prickly brown grass left over from winter. When I am chasing the little kittens I can actually sneak up on them without them hearing me crush the straw-like grass. I can even catch Patches when he is snoozing on the porch.

Achoo. A-c-h-o-o. Sometimes the sneezes are longer than at other times. Mommie doesn't think I can have allergies because I am a cat. But, I do sneeze now and then. I used to sneeze in Texas too. Maybe it is something else, but they only come on when the pollen season begins. Other times of the year I don't sneeze – so there!


Mommie says I have three different purrs – kinda like three different ring tones.

When she opens the door to let me in she says I purr with an “L” as in p-l-u-u-r-r-r. She says I am so happy to be let in that I let out a squeal-like, excited purr that sounds different from my other purrs.

At night when I am going to sleep on Mommie's shoulder, I sigh as I purr. Mommie says it sounds like P-U-u-r-r. After I go to sleep I apparently don't purr at all. (And, I don't SNORE – ok?)

During the day when I am contentedly laying around the house awake and not asleep, Mommie says I have long, drawn-out purr like: p-p-u-u-r-r-r. She says I don't purr at all when I am watchful and ready for play in the morning and afternoon.

Have you listened to your kitty today? 


Me and Patches saw it coming. Mommie was trying to dig a hole and the grass was wet. All at once the shovel flew out of her hands and Mommie went k-e-r-p-l-u-n-k to the ground. Well not exactly the ground – right into a big mud puddle. (Good thing Mommie has lots of padding – if you know what I mean – ha ha.)

After the x-rays it was determined that Mommie's left wrist was broken. She came home with a big splint on her left arm. The splint doesn't seem to stop her. She still cooks, cleans, washes dishes, etc. Most of all she can still get food and water for me.

WORST of all – she can't cuddle me like she used to. She always had her arm curled around me when I slept on her shoulder. Kinda hard to curl her arm with a straight splint. 

I want my Mommie's arm back. Mommie told me that her arm would be back to normal in 6 or 7 weeks. She reminded me about the soldiers whose arms wouldn't ever come back to normal. Ok, I feel a little guilty about complaining, but I miss her cuddles.


With Mommie's bad arm she can't pick me up. I have to wait until she is sitting or lying down.

Patches doesn't sit on MY Mommie's lap at any time, so he was gloating that Mommie couldn't pick me up. He said (and I quote) “you're too fat, you're too fat – ha ha”. I guess I have been getting into the treat sack once too often. 

Mommie has this sack of treats by her chair in the living room from which she doles out treats once in a while. Every now and then she doesn't get the sack quite shut all the way. Since the sack is up off the floor, Patches can't get to it. Last week Mommie mentioned that the sack seemed to be getting lighter and she looked right at me when she said it. I pulled in my tummy and tried to look innocent. Mommie thought she heard Patches snicker. (Tattle tale.)

I guess Mommie wasn't fooled by my innocent stance because she put the sack into a covered basket. DRAT 

(Of course sometimes Mommie forgets things, so I am hoping she might let the basket lid slightly ajar once in a while.) 




Latest comments

24.06 | 22:14

Mommie, I am glad you are back! I was beginning to worry.

30.03 | 18:11

Other places charge for these. Thanks.

05.09 | 20:06

Interesting concept. I am sending an envelope with my name, address, and stamp on it so I can receive these for free.