IBKFergus isn't black

IBKFergus isn't actually black. Sure, he looks 100% black except for close
up when you can see the odd white hair, but in certain light you can see
tabby stripes and spots. And this mornign while he was busy extracting his
daily blood sacrifice requirement from my hands, I saw that undereath his
black fur, there is grey fur. He is, in fact, just a very very dark grey
tabby cat.

I am now looking forward to seeing how his adult coat will turn out. I
suspect he'll have more in common with Shmogg that both would care to think
about right now.

Last night was the third night IBKFergus spent out of his crate (I had to
give it back tot he rescue lady). Thankfully, he killed most of hte bedmice
on his first night, so he can catch and kill the few remaining ones by about
11pm and then settle down. Bed territory has been sorted out so that Shmogg
takes up his traditional role of by my head, and IBKFergus curls up at the
back of my knees. IBKFergus has turned out to be a power purrer! Who woud
have thought such a deep rumbly loud harley davidson sort of purr could come
from such a tiny body!

Which brings me to the weird point. As long as Shmogg can't actually *see*
IBKFergus, and IBKFergus can't actually see Shmogg, they will happily
cohabitate on my (well, their) bed - with my reclining body acting as the
visual barrier. But woe is me if they happen to actually get a glimpse of
each other, all hell breaks loose and I quickly become the human equivalent
of Hamburger Hill, I am ground zero as the fighting occurs directly upon me.

Now surely Shmogg would be able to hear the purr of IBK (cripes, the
*neighbours* probably can), and he can't be *that* stupid as to not realise
that it is coming from IBKFergus on the bed, but it seems as long as I don't
make the mistake of turning over and exposing each cat to a direct visual
confirmation of the presence of the other, both are happy to believe that
the other is simply doesn't exist.

IBKFergus has yet to work out the morning routine and how to jump on my
bladder as a way to hurry up the gooshyfood for breakfast, but Shmogg has
taught him about the nightly routine of Getting In My Face. By about 9:30pm,
whatever guerrilla warfare has been waged by the critters against each other
during hte day is called to a ceasefire, and they all gather around the
gooshyfood dispensing mechanism (ie, me) and all give me thier version of
hte "I am but a poor and starving critter, please take pity on me and feed
me just the merest morsel so I may survive for just one more pitiful day on
this earth". Its amazing how all three - who entirely fail to acknowledge
get along during daylight hours - can all work in tandem like that. Shmogg
of course already knows how to howl if the food doesn't appear within the
specified time, and Fluffy knows how to scratch and whimper like she's about
to die, but the Oscar for the saddest most gooshy-food enducing act of all
already goes to IBKFergus who kneads at my ankles and mews pathetic little
"Why isn't my Mummy feeding me? Mummy? Are you OK? Mummy? Mummy? Whats
happened to Mummy?" mews. If I didn't know any better, I'd be heartbroken by
9:30:05pm each night.

I also have to feed them in the order of most likely to eat the other's
food. Which mean Fluffy has to be fed first. She eats *anything* even
remotely food like, and some things which I'm sure were probably only edible
in a past life. Fluff gets locked inthe garage with her food for the night
so she can't steal Shmogg's food. Shmogg is next, and is fed on top of the
old washing machine. We started to feed him there so as to stop Fluff from
eating cat food, but Fluff grew too big, and at least disposes of whatever
SHmogg hasn't eaten before it gets maggoty (very quick where we live). And
then we have to feed IBKFergus last, so that the other two are busy with
eating their food and won't eat the incredibly overpriced kitten food. Of
course, IBKFergus doesn't particularly like kitten food, preferring everyone
else's food to his own (naturally) but thats what he's going to get for
another few weeks or until his tail stops looking a denuded pencil pine and
starts looking more like a cat tail (ie, when he graduates to 'cat' rather
than 'kitten').

Cary still thinks IBKFergus makes a great animated toy and IBKFergus still
thnks Cary's ankles have the sweetest blood of all, so I figure they are
pretty much fair game for each other. They both have the ability to yell out
if the other's games get too much (they don't do that as often as you
think), but I can't figure how to keep them apart, and also figure that one
day they'll work out how to play with each other nicely. Neither seems to
actually causing the other any actual damage, so as long as one of us is
their to supervise Cary, deter IBKFergus from maiign serous inroads into
Cary's ankles with the SquirtGun of Death and to extract IBKFergus from
Cary's super-human destructo-grip, things are pretty stable (as stable as
chaos can be I guess).

Still, my kitten fever is well and truly in remission at the moment. And
once all the lights are out, and we all settle down for a good night's
sleep, the last thing I do is look into Shmoggs eyes, and we both sigh
"Kids!!!!" at each other.

Yowie

Yowie wrote:
IBKFergus isn't actually black. Sure, he looks 100% black except for
close up when you can see the odd white hair, but in certain light
you can see tabby stripes and spots. And this mornign while he was
busy extracting his daily blood sacrifice requirement from my hands,
I saw that undereath his black fur, there is grey fur. He is, in
fact, just a very very dark grey tabby cat.


Weebs was like that, too. He grew into a very bunny-soft, shiney-black
kitty, you can only see his stripeys in the right light now.


I am now looking forward to seeing how his adult coat will turn out. I
suspect he'll have more in common with Shmogg that both would care to
think about right now.

Last night was the third night IBKFergus spent out of his crate (I
had to give it back tot he rescue lady). Thankfully, he killed most
of hte bedmice on his first night, so he can catch and kill the few
remaining ones by about 11pm and then settle down. Bed territory has
been sorted out so that Shmogg takes up his traditional role of by my
head, and IBKFergus curls up at the back of my knees. IBKFergus has
turned out to be a power purrer! Who woud have thought such a deep
rumbly loud harley davidson sort of purr could come from such a tiny
body!

I remember Weeble's first purr - I had just finished giving him a bottle
(only had him for about 24 +/- hours), and I hear this weird rattle. At
first I thought I overfed him, and he got formula in his lungs and I would
find it bubbling up his nose... but nope, he was happy & content with a big
fat round belly. I flet his throat and flet the vibrations. The tiny
little buggar was purring!


Which brings me to the weird point. As long as Shmogg can't actually
*see* IBKFergus, and IBKFergus can't actually see Shmogg, they will
happily cohabitate on my (well, their) bed - with my reclining body
acting as the visual barrier. But woe is me if they happen to
actually get a glimpse of each other, all hell breaks loose and I
quickly become the human equivalent of Hamburger Hill, I am ground
zero as the fighting occurs directly upon me.

What better place to have a battle than a nice soft mommy-belly?


Now surely Shmogg would be able to hear the purr of IBK (cripes, the
*neighbours* probably can), and he can't be *that* stupid as to not
realise that it is coming from IBKFergus on the bed, but it seems as
long as I don't make the mistake of turning over and exposing each
cat to a direct visual confirmation of the presence of the other,
both are happy to believe that the other is simply doesn't exist.

IBKFergus has yet to work out the morning routine and how to jump on
my bladder as a way to hurry up the gooshyfood for breakfast, but
Shmogg has taught him about the nightly routine of Getting In My
Face. By about 9:30pm, whatever guerrilla warfare has been waged by
the critters against each other during hte day is called to a
ceasefire, and they all gather around the gooshyfood dispensing
mechanism (ie, me) and all give me thier version of hte "I am but a
poor and starving critter, please take pity on me and feed me just
the merest morsel so I may survive for just one more pitiful day on
this earth". Its amazing how all three - who entirely fail to
acknowledge get along during daylight hours - can all work in tandem
like that. Shmogg of course already knows how to howl if the food
doesn't appear within the specified time, and Fluffy knows how to
scratch and whimper like she's about to die, but the Oscar for the
saddest most gooshy-food enducing act of all already goes to
IBKFergus who kneads at my ankles and mews pathetic little "Why isn't
my Mummy feeding me? Mummy? Are you OK? Mummy? Mummy? Whats happened
to Mummy?" mews. If I didn't know any better, I'd be heartbroken by
9:30:05pm each night.

Ooooh - sounds like they need Ernie to tteach them the Puss-n-boots face!

I also have to feed them in the order of most likely to eat the
other's food. Which mean Fluffy has to be fed first. She eats
*anything* even remotely food like, and some things which I'm sure
were probably only edible in a past life. Fluff gets locked inthe
garage with her food for the night so she can't steal Shmogg's food.
Shmogg is next, and is fed on top of the old washing machine. We
started to feed him there so as to stop Fluff from eating cat food,
but Fluff grew too big, and at least disposes of whatever SHmogg
hasn't eaten before it gets maggoty (very quick where we live). And
then we have to feed IBKFergus last, so that the other two are busy
with eating their food and won't eat the incredibly overpriced kitten
food. Of course, IBKFergus doesn't particularly like kitten food,
preferring everyone else's food to his own (naturally) but thats what
he's going to get for another few weeks or until his tail stops
looking a denuded pencil pine and starts looking more like a cat tail
(ie, when he graduates to 'cat' rather than 'kitten').

I always though Weeb's tail looked kinda spindly at first - but now he keeps
it curly. Sometimes I call him piggy-tail kitty

Cary still thinks IBKFergus makes a great animated toy and IBKFergus
still thnks Cary's ankles have the sweetest blood of all, so I figure
they are pretty much fair game for each other. They both have the
ability to yell out if the other's games get too much (they don't do
that as often as you think), but I can't figure how to keep them
apart, and also figure that one day they'll work out how to play with
each other nicely. Neither seems to actually causing the other any
actual damage, so as long as one of us is their to supervise Cary,
deter IBKFergus from maiign serous inroads into Cary's ankles with
the SquirtGun of Death and to extract IBKFergus from Cary's
super-human destructo-grip, things are pretty stable (as stable as
chaos can be I guess).

Still, my kitten fever is well and truly in remission at the moment.
And once all the lights are out, and we all settle down for a good
night's sleep, the last thing I do is look into Shmoggs eyes, and we
both sigh "Kids!!!!" at each other.

Yowie

Sounds like IBKFergus is fitting in quite well.

--�
The ONE and ONLY
lefthanded-pathetic-paranoid-psychotic-sarcastic-wiseass-ditzy
former-blonde in Bloomington! (And proud of it, too)© email me at
nalee1964 (at) insightbb (dot) com
http://community.webshots.com/user/mgcmdjeep

I'm still here Yooooweeeee, so I can reply to your post about IBKFergus,
so he's out of Nappies, I mean his cage, Its Cary has the nappiesof course,
sounds like he's gonna grow up just great, you can bet he and Cary will
become very close as they grow up together, and then shmogg will come
into his own again, shmogg is really beautiful too and Fluff, did you get
the letter about the horse called Fluffy's courage? I dont know if thats in
the letter in cyber, { the one that got away }funny things keep happening
with this Pc
so I'll just keep hoping, and if I suddenly disappear, you'll know why!
hugs to you and love and kisses to Cary. Jean.p.

Yowie wrote in message
...
IBKFergus isn't actually black. Sure, he looks 100% black except for close
up when you can see the odd white hair, but in certain light you can see
tabby stripes and spots. And this mornign while he was busy extracting his
daily blood sacrifice requirement from my hands, I saw that undereath his
black fur, there is grey fur. He is, in fact, just a very very dark grey
tabby cat.

I am now looking forward to seeing how his adult coat will turn out. I
suspect he'll have more in common with Shmogg that both would care to
think
about right now.

Last night was the third night IBKFergus spent out of his crate (I had to
give it back tot he rescue lady). Thankfully, he killed most of hte
bedmice
on his first night, so he can catch and kill the few remaining ones by
about
11pm and then settle down. Bed territory has been sorted out so that
Shmogg
takes up his traditional role of by my head, and IBKFergus curls up at the
back of my knees. IBKFergus has turned out to be a power purrer! Who woud
have thought such a deep rumbly loud harley davidson sort of purr could
come
from such a tiny body!

Which brings me to the weird point. As long as Shmogg can't actually *see*
IBKFergus, and IBKFergus can't actually see Shmogg, they will happily
cohabitate on my (well, their) bed - with my reclining body acting as the
visual barrier. But woe is me if they happen to actually get a glimpse of
each other, all hell breaks loose and I quickly become the human
equivalent
of Hamburger Hill, I am ground zero as the fighting occurs directly upon
me.

Now surely Shmogg would be able to hear the purr of IBK (cripes, the
*neighbours* probably can), and he can't be *that* stupid as to not
realise
that it is coming from IBKFergus on the bed, but it seems as long as I
don't
make the mistake of turning over and exposing each cat to a direct visual
confirmation of the presence of the other, both are happy to believe that
the other is simply doesn't exist.

IBKFergus has yet to work out the morning routine and how to jump on my
bladder as a way to hurry up the gooshyfood for breakfast, but Shmogg has
taught him about the nightly routine of Getting In My Face. By about
9:30pm,
whatever guerrilla warfare has been waged by the critters against each
other
during hte day is called to a ceasefire, and they all gather around the
gooshyfood dispensing mechanism (ie, me) and all give me thier version of
hte "I am but a poor and starving critter, please take pity on me and feed
me just the merest morsel so I may survive for just one more pitiful day
on
this earth". Its amazing how all three - who entirely fail to acknowledge
get along during daylight hours - can all work in tandem like that. Shmogg
of course already knows how to howl if the food doesn't appear within the
specified time, and Fluffy knows how to scratch and whimper like she's
about
to die, but the Oscar for the saddest most gooshy-food enducing act of all
already goes to IBKFergus who kneads at my ankles and mews pathetic little
"Why isn't my Mummy feeding me? Mummy? Are you OK? Mummy? Mummy? Whats
happened to Mummy?" mews. If I didn't know any better, I'd be heartbroken
by
9:30:05pm each night.

I also have to feed them in the order of most likely to eat the other's
food. Which mean Fluffy has to be fed first. She eats *anything* even
remotely food like, and some things which I'm sure were probably only
edible
in a past life. Fluff gets locked inthe garage with her food for the night
so she can't steal Shmogg's food. Shmogg is next, and is fed on top of the
old washing machine. We started to feed him there so as to stop Fluff from
eating cat food, but Fluff grew too big, and at least disposes of whatever
SHmogg hasn't eaten before it gets maggoty (very quick where we live). And
then we have to feed IBKFergus last, so that the other two are busy with
eating their food and won't eat the incredibly overpriced kitten food. Of
course, IBKFergus doesn't particularly like kitten food, preferring
everyone
else's food to his own (naturally) but thats what he's going to get for
another few weeks or until his tail stops looking a denuded pencil pine
and
starts looking more like a cat tail (ie, when he graduates to 'cat' rather
than 'kitten').

Cary still thinks IBKFergus makes a great animated toy and IBKFergus still
thnks Cary's ankles have the sweetest blood of all, so I figure they are
pretty much fair game for each other. They both have the ability to yell
out
if the other's games get too much (they don't do that as often as you
think), but I can't figure how to keep them apart, and also figure that
one
day they'll work out how to play with each other nicely. Neither seems to
actually causing the other any actual damage, so as long as one of us is
their to supervise Cary, deter IBKFergus from maiign serous inroads into
Cary's ankles with the SquirtGun of Death and to extract IBKFergus from
Cary's super-human destructo-grip, things are pretty stable (as stable as
chaos can be I guess).

Still, my kitten fever is well and truly in remission at the moment. And
once all the lights are out, and we all settle down for a good night's
sleep, the last thing I do is look into Shmoggs eyes, and we both sigh
"Kids!!!!" at each other.

Yowie

On Tue, 18 Jan 2005 13:08:26 +1100, "Yowie"
yodeled:

IBKFergus isn't actually black. Sure, he looks 100% black except for close
up when you can see the odd white hair, but in certain light you can see
tabby stripes and spots. And this mornign while he was busy extracting his
daily blood sacrifice requirement from my hands, I saw that undereath his
black fur, there is grey fur. He is, in fact, just a very very dark grey
tabby cat.

Wow. There is a cat like that in my neighborhood. I thought he was
very unusual.

I am now looking forward to seeing how his adult coat will turn out. I
suspect he'll have more in common with Shmogg that both would care to think
about right now.

Last night was the third night IBKFergus spent out of his crate (I had to
give it back tot he rescue lady). Thankfully, he killed most of hte bedmice
on his first night, so he can catch and kill the few remaining ones by about
11pm and then settle down. Bed territory has been sorted out so that Shmogg
takes up his traditional role of by my head, and IBKFergus curls up at the
back of my knees. IBKFergus has turned out to be a power purrer! Who woud
have thought such a deep rumbly loud harley davidson sort of purr could come
from such a tiny body!

Which brings me to the weird point. As long as Shmogg can't actually *see*
IBKFergus, and IBKFergus can't actually see Shmogg, they will happily
cohabitate on my (well, their) bed - with my reclining body acting as the
visual barrier. But woe is me if they happen to actually get a glimpse of
each other, all hell breaks loose and I quickly become the human equivalent
of Hamburger Hill, I am ground zero as the fighting occurs directly upon me.


Sounds like the uneasy peace Mimi and Stinky had for awhile. AFA Mimi
was concerned, once she knew Stinky was around, the only thing that
would satisfy her would be to sow salt so nothing would grow there for
1000 years. :P But she could ignore him if he didn't intrude directly
on her.



Theresa
Stinky Pictures: http://community.webshots.com/album/125591586JWEFwh
My Blog: http://www.humanitas.blogspot.com

Yowie wrote:

Yowie wrote a truly great little piece about a day in the life of her
family. Thank you for sharing it with us.

Regards and Purrs,
O J

In article , "Yowie"
wrote:


Still, my kitten fever is well and truly in remission at the moment. And
once all the lights are out, and we all settle down for a good night's
sleep, the last thing I do is look into Shmoggs eyes, and we both sigh
"Kids!!!!" at each other.

Yowie

Ahhhh, poor Yowie, giggle, sorry. Your life is making great reading right now.
Suz
Macmoosette
=^..^= =^..^= =^..^= =^..^= =^..^= =^..^=

"People that hate cats will come back as mice in their next life."
--Faith Resnick



|\__/|
(=':'=)
(")_(")

Yowie wrote:
IBKFergus isn't actually black. Sure, he looks 100% black except for
close up when you can see the odd white hair, but in certain light
you can see tabby stripes and spots. And this mornign while he was
busy extracting his daily blood sacrifice requirement from my hands,
I saw that undereath his black fur, there is grey fur. He is, in
fact, just a very very dark grey tabby cat.
Snip
Yowie

I love your stories, I look forward to many more as Cary and IBKFergus
grow up together. :-)
--
Adrian (Owned by Snoopy & Bagheera)
A house is not a home, without a cat.

On Tue, 18 Jan 2005 13:08:26 +1100, Yowie wrote:

IBKFergus isn't actually black. Sure, he looks 100% black except for close
up when you can see the odd white hair, but in certain light you can see
tabby stripes and spots. And this mornign while he was busy extracting his
daily blood sacrifice requirement from my hands, I saw that undereath his
black fur, there is grey fur. He is, in fact, just a very very dark grey
tabby cat.

I am now looking forward to seeing how his adult coat will turn out. I
suspect he'll have more in common with Shmogg that both would care to think
about right now.

Last night was the third night IBKFergus spent out of his crate (I had to
give it back tot he rescue lady). Thankfully, he killed most of hte bedmice
on his first night, so he can catch and kill the few remaining ones by about
11pm and then settle down. Bed territory has been sorted out so that Shmogg
takes up his traditional role of by my head, and IBKFergus curls up at the
back of my knees. IBKFergus has turned out to be a power purrer! Who woud
have thought such a deep rumbly loud harley davidson sort of purr could come
from such a tiny body!

Which brings me to the weird point. As long as Shmogg can't actually *see*
IBKFergus, and IBKFergus can't actually see Shmogg, they will happily
cohabitate on my (well, their) bed - with my reclining body acting as the
visual barrier. But woe is me if they happen to actually get a glimpse of
each other, all hell breaks loose and I quickly become the human equivalent
of Hamburger Hill, I am ground zero as the fighting occurs directly upon me.

Now surely Shmogg would be able to hear the purr of IBK (cripes, the
*neighbours* probably can), and he can't be *that* stupid as to not realise
that it is coming from IBKFergus on the bed, but it seems as long as I don't
make the mistake of turning over and exposing each cat to a direct visual
confirmation of the presence of the other, both are happy to believe that
the other is simply doesn't exist.

IBKFergus has yet to work out the morning routine and how to jump on my
bladder as a way to hurry up the gooshyfood for breakfast, but Shmogg has
taught him about the nightly routine of Getting In My Face. By about 9:30pm,
whatever guerrilla warfare has been waged by the critters against each other
during hte day is called to a ceasefire, and they all gather around the
gooshyfood dispensing mechanism (ie, me) and all give me thier version of
hte "I am but a poor and starving critter, please take pity on me and feed
me just the merest morsel so I may survive for just one more pitiful day on
this earth". Its amazing how all three - who entirely fail to acknowledge
get along during daylight hours - can all work in tandem like that. Shmogg
of course already knows how to howl if the food doesn't appear within the
specified time, and Fluffy knows how to scratch and whimper like she's about
to die, but the Oscar for the saddest most gooshy-food enducing act of all
already goes to IBKFergus who kneads at my ankles and mews pathetic little
"Why isn't my Mummy feeding me? Mummy? Are you OK? Mummy? Mummy? Whats
happened to Mummy?" mews. If I didn't know any better, I'd be heartbroken by
9:30:05pm each night.

I also have to feed them in the order of most likely to eat the other's
food. Which mean Fluffy has to be fed first. She eats *anything* even
remotely food like, and some things which I'm sure were probably only edible
in a past life. Fluff gets locked inthe garage with her food for the night
so she can't steal Shmogg's food. Shmogg is next, and is fed on top of the
old washing machine. We started to feed him there so as to stop Fluff from
eating cat food, but Fluff grew too big, and at least disposes of whatever
SHmogg hasn't eaten before it gets maggoty (very quick where we live). And
then we have to feed IBKFergus last, so that the other two are busy with
eating their food and won't eat the incredibly overpriced kitten food. Of
course, IBKFergus doesn't particularly like kitten food, preferring everyone
else's food to his own (naturally) but thats what he's going to get for
another few weeks or until his tail stops looking a denuded pencil pine and
starts looking more like a cat tail (ie, when he graduates to 'cat' rather
than 'kitten').

Cary still thinks IBKFergus makes a great animated toy and IBKFergus still
thnks Cary's ankles have the sweetest blood of all, so I figure they are
pretty much fair game for each other. They both have the ability to yell out
if the other's games get too much (they don't do that as often as you
think), but I can't figure how to keep them apart, and also figure that one
day they'll work out how to play with each other nicely. Neither seems to
actually causing the other any actual damage, so as long as one of us is
their to supervise Cary, deter IBKFergus from maiign serous inroads into
Cary's ankles with the SquirtGun of Death and to extract IBKFergus from
Cary's super-human destructo-grip, things are pretty stable (as stable as
chaos can be I guess).

Still, my kitten fever is well and truly in remission at the moment. And
once all the lights are out, and we all settle down for a good night's
sleep, the last thing I do is look into Shmoggs eyes, and we both sigh
"Kids!!!!" at each other.

Yowie


When you want to call him to you, do you call "here kitty, kitty, kitty"
or "here IBKFergus, HereIBK Fergus.here IBK" or what? MLB

"mlbriggs" wrote in message
news
On Tue, 18 Jan 2005 13:08:26 +1100, Yowie wrote:

IBKFergus isn't actually black. Sure, he looks 100% black except for
close
up when you can see the odd white hair, but in certain light you can see
tabby stripes and spots. And this mornign while he was busy extracting
his
daily blood sacrifice requirement from my hands, I saw that undereath
his
black fur, there is grey fur. He is, in fact, just a very very dark grey
tabby cat.

I am now looking forward to seeing how his adult coat will turn out. I
suspect he'll have more in common with Shmogg that both would care to
think
about right now.

Last night was the third night IBKFergus spent out of his crate (I had
to
give it back tot he rescue lady). Thankfully, he killed most of hte
bedmice
on his first night, so he can catch and kill the few remaining ones by
about
11pm and then settle down. Bed territory has been sorted out so that
Shmogg
takes up his traditional role of by my head, and IBKFergus curls up at
the
back of my knees. IBKFergus has turned out to be a power purrer! Who
woud
have thought such a deep rumbly loud harley davidson sort of purr could
come
from such a tiny body!

Which brings me to the weird point. As long as Shmogg can't actually
*see*
IBKFergus, and IBKFergus can't actually see Shmogg, they will happily
cohabitate on my (well, their) bed - with my reclining body acting as
the
visual barrier. But woe is me if they happen to actually get a glimpse
of
each other, all hell breaks loose and I quickly become the human
equivalent
of Hamburger Hill, I am ground zero as the fighting occurs directly upon
me.

Now surely Shmogg would be able to hear the purr of IBK (cripes, the
*neighbours* probably can), and he can't be *that* stupid as to not
realise
that it is coming from IBKFergus on the bed, but it seems as long as I
don't
make the mistake of turning over and exposing each cat to a direct
visual
confirmation of the presence of the other, both are happy to believe
that
the other is simply doesn't exist.

IBKFergus has yet to work out the morning routine and how to jump on my
bladder as a way to hurry up the gooshyfood for breakfast, but Shmogg
has
taught him about the nightly routine of Getting In My Face. By about
9:30pm,
whatever guerrilla warfare has been waged by the critters against each
other
during hte day is called to a ceasefire, and they all gather around the
gooshyfood dispensing mechanism (ie, me) and all give me thier version
of
hte "I am but a poor and starving critter, please take pity on me and
feed
me just the merest morsel so I may survive for just one more pitiful day
on
this earth". Its amazing how all three - who entirely fail to
acknowledge
get along during daylight hours - can all work in tandem like that.
Shmogg
of course already knows how to howl if the food doesn't appear within
the
specified time, and Fluffy knows how to scratch and whimper like she's
about
to die, but the Oscar for the saddest most gooshy-food enducing act of
all
already goes to IBKFergus who kneads at my ankles and mews pathetic
little
"Why isn't my Mummy feeding me? Mummy? Are you OK? Mummy? Mummy? Whats
happened to Mummy?" mews. If I didn't know any better, I'd be
heartbroken by
9:30:05pm each night.

I also have to feed them in the order of most likely to eat the other's
food. Which mean Fluffy has to be fed first. She eats *anything* even
remotely food like, and some things which I'm sure were probably only
edible
in a past life. Fluff gets locked inthe garage with her food for the
night
so she can't steal Shmogg's food. Shmogg is next, and is fed on top of
the
old washing machine. We started to feed him there so as to stop Fluff
from
eating cat food, but Fluff grew too big, and at least disposes of
whatever
SHmogg hasn't eaten before it gets maggoty (very quick where we live).
And
then we have to feed IBKFergus last, so that the other two are busy with
eating their food and won't eat the incredibly overpriced kitten food.
Of
course, IBKFergus doesn't particularly like kitten food, preferring
everyone
else's food to his own (naturally) but thats what he's going to get for
another few weeks or until his tail stops looking a denuded pencil pine
and
starts looking more like a cat tail (ie, when he graduates to 'cat'
rather
than 'kitten').

Cary still thinks IBKFergus makes a great animated toy and IBKFergus
still
thnks Cary's ankles have the sweetest blood of all, so I figure they are
pretty much fair game for each other. They both have the ability to yell
out
if the other's games get too much (they don't do that as often as you
think), but I can't figure how to keep them apart, and also figure that
one
day they'll work out how to play with each other nicely. Neither seems
to
actually causing the other any actual damage, so as long as one of us is
their to supervise Cary, deter IBKFergus from maiign serous inroads into
Cary's ankles with the SquirtGun of Death and to extract IBKFergus from
Cary's super-human destructo-grip, things are pretty stable (as stable
as
chaos can be I guess).

Still, my kitten fever is well and truly in remission at the moment. And
once all the lights are out, and we all settle down for a good night's
sleep, the last thing I do is look into Shmoggs eyes, and we both sigh
"Kids!!!!" at each other.

Yowie


When you want to call him to you, do you call "here kitty, kitty, kitty"
or "here IBKFergus, HereIBK Fergus.here IBK" or what? MLB

"Gooshy food!" seems to work. otherwise, I'm generally telling him to *go
away*.

The hicky on my neck was not caused by Joel, or any secret lover (hahahaha),
merely a black kitten with a tendency to bite any and all of my exposed
flesh.

I can't wait till he develops into an actual cat, these psychopathic muffins
are hard to deal with.

Yowie
(Anyone know when kittens stop biting? He won't tolerate me stroking or
scritching him and bites me immediatley - whilst purring like mad - and I
seem to be his favourite thing of all to bit - particularly my hands and
feet. is there any chance he will settle down and *like* being fussed upon?)

"Yowie" wrote in message
...
Yowie
(Anyone know when kittens stop biting? He won't tolerate me stroking or
scritching him and bites me immediatley - whilst purring like mad - and I
seem to be his favourite thing of all to bit - particularly my hands and
feet. is there any chance he will settle down and *like* being fussed
upon?)



He will likely stop biting when he learns it doesn't benefit him. And will
let up once he cuts his teeth and moreso when he gets his permanent teeth.
Until them do what mamma cats do. Swat his nose and hiss at him.

Jo