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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

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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.)

Thursday, February 23, 2017

Moggy: HelperKitty

Some days I think Bandit is dumber than a post.  He is so clueless and unassuming when it comes to his brother-by-another-mother, Moggy (aka The Cat). It always floors Bandit when Moggy picks on him.  And yet he continues to trust Moggy, and attempt to engage him in playtime.

You would think that Moggy, a rescue, would be appreciative of a warm, soft bed, access to plenty of fresh water, boutique catfood, enough toys to decorate a master suite,  and free Healthcare. If he is appreciative, he has an odd way of demonstrating it: he glares, alternates between tripping me up and lying down exactly where I need to stand (like when washing dishes or brushing my teeth--it's not like I can move the sink to accommodate him), and giving little love nips--okay, the love nips could actually be his version of yanking on my pigtails as a little boy way of showing affection; however, the bopping on the head is not. Especially when he draws blood.

Tonight I was in the guest bathroom and Bandit sought me out. Heaven forbid I do something without him. So he comes in for a scratch and a snuggle, and I ask him, "Where's your baby?" When he hears that phrase he will perk up and go find his favorite toy of the day, always passing up the other toys.

Upon finding his baby of the day, he will perform the death shake and, if he's not previously performed a successful squeaky-ectomy, he will give the squeaker a couple of chews, before bringing his baby to just outside my arms length.  It's his sadistic version of "fetchless fetch."

Tonight was no exception. But after he came in for the snuggle, then went in search of his baby, Moggy sauntered around the corner and without warning or provocation bopped Bandit on the top of the head three times successively. This is new.  He normally only goes for the singular head bop.

The look of hurt and bewilderment that overcame Bandit was heartbreaking.  It was as if I could read his mind, "All I wanted was to go get my baby--why did he bop me?!"

Scooping Bandit up, I  loved on him a little extra, and patted his  head softly while seriptiously checking for blood. Moggy sometimes bops with unfurled claws.

I reminded Bandit he has permission to defend himself against The Cat. And I scolded Moggy for being ungrateful and picking fights. I told him he needs to love his brother and get along with him, because hes the only brother hes got. Moggy glared. Then he blinked and he almost looked chagrined.

Almost.

I decided  to take Bandit with me to Austin on a Marketplace buying run. The Marketplace is addictive. I never knew all the stuff other people were selling that I needed. Anyway, a little time apart might be just what the boys needed.

When we arrived back home, Moggy ran to greet us and was actually civil. Then I went into the master bath. 

Moggy has taken to  turning his nose up at the chicken selection of the variety catfood pack, so when I saw the toilet paper up and over the cabinet in order to lie on the food dish, I thought Moggy was sending a stronger message than his usual patented show of disdain: the loud sniff,  followed closely by the nose in the air, and saunter away.

But then I realized two things: first, his food bowl was empty. And second, the TP was not shredded, nor was it wadded--it was neatly folded. Not only that, it was not covering his now empty food dish--it was actually on the cabinet edge I use to hoist myself up when the knees are bothering me.

Finally, it dawned on me--Moggy was trying to make amends by being a HelperKitty--he had neatly folded the TP  and readied it for Mommies next use!

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