Good Morning View

Dear Readers-
Good morning! I hope you slept well last night. What do you wake up to? Breakfast in bed, the pitter patter of little feet, a cup of coffee handed to you by your mate?

This is what I wake up to.

Max. Weird, fuzzy, dirty, stinky, Max.

More often than nought, Max refuses to get up when the humans are ready to get up. He has a lot of business during the night, and enjoys wreaking havoc from about midnight to 3am.

Understandably, he’s passed out at 5am when the alarm goes off. His pink little eyes just squint back at me and he says, “Really?!” (with his eyebrows), then tucks his head back under his paw and sighs.

I feel a hint of disgust coming from his furry body. It’s kind of a crappy way to wake up if you ask me.

Not Letting Go-Pathetic Brown Mouse

Everyone has that weird sweatshirt-chock full of nostalgia and memories-and so full of holes, that leaving the house with it on would be a travesty. However, giving it away, throwing it out, or even cutting it up for rags is a horrible thought.

I have one of those in my life. A K-State, long-sleeved, 17 year old shirt, with blown out armpits, a barely hanging on collar and with sleeves I have to carefully insert my hands into for fear of tearing them off completely. The shirt is so embarrassing I won’t even take a picture of me in it or just “it” for that matter.

Maxwell, the cat, has the same thing going on with Brown Mouse. This was Brown Mouse just a couple of months ago. He was already pathetic-missing an ear, splitting at the seams and covered in disgusting-ness.

And this is Brown Mouse presently.

Brown Mouse was one of Maxwell’s first toys. The two instantly bonded over a game of fetch-which is one of Max’s favorite past-times. I know, it’s weird for a cat to play fetch. But, Maxwell has never been normal.

Brown Mouse used to rattle, but is now silent. The rattle has been rattled out of him.

He has been baptized (sloshed into the water dish and then transferred to the food dish) almost every day. We have no idea why Max does this, but it’s become commonplace to find Brown Mouse, along with Q-tips or whatever else Max can find, floating in his water dish or covered in sticky food. Ewww.

Brown Mouse isn’t the only mouse we’ve purchased for Max. However, it’s the only mouse Maxwell chooses to play with.

For a few weeks, we couldn’t find Brown Mouse. Maxwell refused to play with Pink Mouse, Black Mouse and Gray Mouse. Then, one day while cleaning underneath the stove, I saw two little beady black eyes staring at me.

Brown Mouse.

Just like my K-State shirt, Maxwell just can’t let Brown Mouse go. It’s awful when friends stop by and ask, incredulously, “What’s that?”.
I answer back, “Oh, that’s just Brown Mouse.”
“It is?”
“Well, it used to be. I guess it’s just a weird pile of fur and plastic now.”
“Why don’t you just buy a new one?”
“They quit making them and Max has refused all of the new toys I bought him.”
“Your cat is weird.”
“I know.”

Let it go, Max. I’ll give up the K-State shirt if you give up Brown Mouse.

What? Ok. I’ll keep my shirt, then.

Bianca-Up Close and Personal

Maxwell is the one typically getting the camera’s attention. He’s a bizarre cat that does bizarre things which inspires me to document this bizarre behavior. All the while, pretty, delicate Bianca is sitting quietly in the background, preening herself and praying to the cat-gods that Max won’t attack her.

I decided to do a little impromptu photo shoot using a lens that I normally don’t use (ProMaster Spectrum Teleconverter Lens w/ Magnification of 2x, along with a Nikkor 50MM 1:1.8D).

And Bianca happened to be in the line of fire.

I set the camera to 400 ISO and used natural daylight to play with the lens’ depth of field. I loved how detailed the image could be, along with an intense depth of field.

Her paws are so dang cute.

Bianca’s pink little nose is one of my favorite things about her.

That and the fact that she isn’t stinky, like a certain other kitty.

Stepping back a few feet, I was able to capture her powerful green eyes. Sometimes, when she looks at me, I swear she is reading my mind…

Bianca has some of the longest whiskers I have ever seen on a kitty. When she sheds one of these, I’m tempted to make an ink pen out of it.

Soon, she bored of me and went back to sleep in her favorite position-on her back, with her front and back paws curled into rabbit position and her body wedged in the corner of the couch.

I guess she’s pretty bizarre, too.

Maxwell’s New Friend

A new dog moved into the neighborhood. He is big and black and a little rough around the edges. Let’s just say, you don’t win me over Mr. New Dog when you dig underneath the fence and into my squash plants. You are on a slippery slope, New Dog.

For some reason, New Dog and Max have seemed to come to an agreement that they like each other. After a few hours of hissing, arched backs and fluffy tails, I finally calmed down and let the two be.

They will spend hours, paws outstretched, touching each other through the chain link fence.

New dog has no idea he’s not supposed to be friends with kitty cats.

They pay no mind to the mocking squirrels. They do what’s in their heart. They follow their heart.

And, they love. My mind is singing, “Ebony and Ivory” all the while. It’s a beautiful moment. *Sniff.