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The BOMB

Welcome to the BOMB.



The Blog Of the "Mother" of Bandit.
Bandit is my Hairless Chinese Crested--he's the "normal" one. I, on the other hand, am unrepentantly "pet-crazy." You know the type--the spinster who lives in the haunted house three blocks over with 72 cats...okay, so I don't have 72 cats, and my house isn't haunted--but my dogs wardrobe is better than mine! Need I say more? :~)
I've never been consistant at journaling, so the timing of my blogs will be sporadic at best. I just hope they are as entertaining to you as they are to me; however, be forewarned: Most of my blogs will be about The BaldOne. In spite of his Don King "do," I think he's just as cute as any of the Brothers B!
Now, if I can just remember not to get him wet--or feed him after midnight...

About Me

My photo
My bags are packed and I'm always ready to seek out an adventure with Bandit and Moggy in tow. Bandit is my ten year old Chinese Crested, who I frequently call The Bald One or The BaldOne Boy (like he was one of the Baldwin Brothers). Moggy’s full name is Pip-Moggy. He’s my gansta-resuce kitty. I couldn’t decide between Pip (which are the spots on die and domino tiles) and Moggy (or Moggie when I mistakenly thought he was a she), so I combined the two. Moggy refers to the British term for "cat of unknown parentage .” So in essence, I have an almost bald dog, and I’ve named my cat “Spot.”

Fun Stuff (I'm doing now or have done)

  • Artistic Attempts weekly (alternating between Painting With A Twist, That Art Place, and Peniot's Palette).
  • Bunko with the Belton Bunko Babes monthly.
  • Participating in the A to Z Blogging Challenge.
  • Spades and Liverpool Rummy with the Spadetts weekly.
  • The Mighty Texas Dog Walk, Austin (fund raiser for Service Dogs, Inc--they train shelter dogs to be Service Dogs, then give them free of charge to people with disabilities.)

Sunday, May 21, 2017

Strays

I haven't had any escapees at the laundromat in a while, so I was rather amused and somewhat baffled when a singleton sock, in a brand I usually don't purchase, started hanging out with my clothes.  I always assumed it was me that attracted strays. Maybe it's not me after all--maybe it's my clothes.  Or the Color Catcher. (I love that stuff!)

Nah, after mulling it over I've come to the conclusion  it's me.  This escapee must have chatted up my spoiled boys.  And he agrees with the word on the street:  Life is good at Mary Lou's Zoo.

It's a pretty sure bet he's not heard, or at least not believed, those nasty rumors out there...

Like my habbit of alternately drowning and dehydrating my plants. Okay, so technically that's  more truth than rumor. 

I don't think he's heard the annoying  fire drill that takes place each time I cook either.   Maybe that's  not really a rumor either since it's more of an occurance.  BTW, is it really necessary for the batteries to self-test  each and every time I turn on the stove? 

Of course, it's not all bad, the battery self-testing has introduced me to some very nice Firemen.  And the Firemen  have taken a really cute photo with Bandit. 

Several times.

Now if only a stray winning Lottery Ticket would find it's way to The Zoo....

Friday, April 28, 2017

Moggy's Midnight Madness

Okay, it wasn't really midnight--I just like alliteration.  It was actually just shy of  1:30am when I wittnessed Moggy go into Territory Protection Mode. I attempted to call Moggy off before he engaged The Other Cat, who was  slinking toward us from shadows edge; however, Moggy had ideas of his own.

Imagine my surprise at finding  a cat with independent thought ignoring me. 😉

Moggy dropped into prey mode and ran  to meet TOC, but rather than fully engaging him in the claw-de-tooth cat fight I feared, (the type cat fight from which he has previously drug himself home a little worse for wear),  he abruptly stopped and sat in full attention:  ears forward, body sitting tall and rigid, and he gave TOC the  same intense stare with which he has awoken me on several occassions.

TOC fled.

Moggy ceremoniously dusted his font paws, clenched his dominate paw, and raising it high into the cool night air, shouted, "Good riddance to ya! And don't be comin' back 'round here--your kind aint welcome!!"

Okay...So it didn't go down exatly like that...but it was the cat equivalent:  Moggy held his statute imitation a few heartbeats, then stood, nonchalantly turned his back on TOC, and strutted to the front door, tail standing straight up, with just the slighest tail-tip twitch. The Tail Twitch is Moggy's tell. He was well pleased with himself and feeling good.

Moggy met me at the front door, I praised him and thanked him for his protection, and invited him inside. He, of course, ignored my invitation to enter. Actually, he attempted to engage me in one of his favorite games:  lets see how many times the human will attemp to get me inside before she finally closes the door. Three is usually my limit.  Last night, I cut the game short and closed the door after the second invite.

I barely had the front door locked before Moggy was bumping the back door wanting to come inside. I get it--he had to do a final perimeter  security sweep ensuring the safety of his Family before he could come inside and go to bed. 

Yeah, or maybe he's a strong-willed, independent cat,  who ensured his person opened the door the third time.  Who says it has to be the same door? 

Score one for Moggy.