Taking Control Again

Greetings, Effurrybody!

I'm back!

Yes! It is I, Queen Trixie, Empress of Jerusalem, Israel and the Entire Middle East, Guardian of the Boudoir, Alpha Kitty Extraordinaire!

I know, I know, it has been a whole month since any of Us blogged, and even longer since My Imperial Majesty graced you all with my Royal Presence.

It has been so-o-o-o-o hot that none of Us really had the Energy to sit down at the Computer Machine Thingy and write, but Mummy reminded Us that We haven't even updated you on the Results of My Surgery and We really ought to do that, at least.

Well, it turned out that Mummy was Absolutely Right. They did leave some bits in three years ago when they furrst tried to steal my Ladycat Parts. I won't go into details, because it's not Ladycatlike to discuss such things in public. Suffice it to say that We all hope they've done it propurrly this time.

When Mummy went to collect Me, after my surgery, the nice lady v-e-t gave her a Wink and asked her if She wanted the Good News furrst, or the Bad News. Mummy didn't know what to say, so Dr. Einat said: "The Good News is that you were right. We didn't get it all out last time. So We found it quite easily."

Mummy said: "So what's the Bad News" - and the v-e-t said: "You don't have to pay anything".

And Mummy said: "That's not Bad News" - and Dr. Einat winked again and said: "It is for Me".

Anyway, after Mummy took Me home, she fed Me but it must have been too soon, because I was sick and horked up the lot. And then I didn't want to eat or even come out of my kitty-cave all the next day. I did nothing but sleep.
And Mummy was effur so worried, She took Me back to the v-e-t. Dr. Einat fed me some special food with a spatula - food for sick kitties who have lost their appetite - and gave Mummy some to take home for Me. And She didn't charge Mummy for that either.

After that, my appetite started coming back - quite quickly, in fact. By the time I had my stitches out (actually, they were staples), I was even eating more than I had been used to before my surgery.

This is my Tummy with my stitches staples:

It looks awful, doesn't it?

It took weeks before all my beautiful furs grew back propurrly - and when they did, the undercoat of white furs was much more pronounced than before.

After I was fully recovered, I began the process of reconquering My Territory.
Furrst of all, I made it clear to Mummy that, just because Shimshi likes to eat computer cables, that is no reason to ban Me from the Library/Study - which was one of my favourite haunts when I was a little kitty, before the Mancats came along:

Next, I made it clear to my brofurs that I do not appreciate being woken up to join in their boysterous games of Catch-Me-If-You-Can (especially since they seem to think that I am always the One To Be Caught):

Once That Lesson had been learnt, I allowed them to snooze on the Bed or Sofa together with Me:

So now, Things are more or less back to normal.

Before I go, I want to show you all this picture Mummy took at the Supermarket last week.

No, your eyes do not deceive you. That is, indeed, a birdie! 

You might well ask - as We did - what a birdie is doing inside the supermarket.
Mummy thinks it came indoors to enjoy the Air Conditioning and escape the Extreme Heat outside.

Hmmmm - We told Mummy that, next time, She should take Us to the Supermarket with her to help her with the shopping (heh heh heh)...

Shimshi's Second Gotcha Day Anniversary

Hallo again, Effurrybuddies!

I expect you are all wondering why you weren't invited to my Gotcha Day Pawty on Sunday.

Right?

Well, the reason is simple. We didn't have one! We decided that it was too hot (about 38 degrees Celsius)! Who has the energy to prepurr a pawty when the air feels like a dry sauna?!

Today, however, it is much cooler, so, after consultations between the three of Us and Our Human, We have decided to hold the Pawty this coming Shabbat afternoon (21st May) at 6 pm. At that time, it should be neither too hot, nor too cold, but JUST RIGHT, so effurryone should be satisfied.

So make sure your Tunnels and Esses and whateffur other Forms of Transportation you have are in good working order, because We are expecting to see you all at the biggest Pawty effur.

The Mighty Shimshon (aka Shimshi, or The Little Purrince)

PeeEss: Prezzies will - as always - be welcome. Not that I would DREAM of asking for them. Mummy says that's not purrlite... (mol)

All Sorts of Interesting and Impawtant News

Hallo again, Effurrybuddies!

It is Me here, the Mighty Shimshon (aka Shimshi, or The Little Purr-ince)!

Furrst of all, I want to remind you all that today is MY BIRTHDAY! Doesn't time fly? I am two years old today. But we aren't going to have my birthday pawty today. That is because my sisfur, Trixie, finally had her surgery last week, to fix her ladycat parts so she doesn't get those funny feelings she was telling you about, and she is still re-cu-purr-ating (goodness! what a long word!) so we have decided to postpone my party until after she has her stitches out (which will be next Sunday) and celebrate on my birthday according to the Hebrew calendar,during Chol Hamoed Pessach, on the 17th of Nissan. Funnily enough, that is the day after Mummy's Hebrew birthday, and falls next Monday, the day after Trixie has her stitches removed.

I am letting you all know now, so you will have plenty of time to clear your diaries and pre-purr for My Pawty. (Of course, a month after that, it will be time for my Gotcha Day Pawty, and We did consider merging the two but then We decided that there is no sense in skipping a purr-fectly good excuse to pawty! Two pawties are so much better than one, don't you agree?)

I have hardly seen Trixie since she had her surgery, because Mummy has put her in a Private Ward, with her own bathroom and dining room so that We Boys (as She calls Us) can't disturb her with our boisterous games! And Trixie has been getting extra Fancy Feast and treats, because, at furrst, She didn't feel like eating at all. But now, She's coming along nicely, Mummy says, and will no doubt tell you all about her expurriences herself, once her stitches are out and she can come out to play with Us Boys Mancats.

Now, I am going to go back and have a little nap till lunchtime. I hope to see you all at My Pawty next week. 

'Bye for now.

PS. Trixie and Caspurr send their love.

She Remembered!

She remembered! Yes, She did!

I wasn't sure She would, She's a bit absent-minded sometimes and there have been times She has fur-gotten!
Like when She fur-got My Birthday last month!
Of course, She is several hundred years old already, by Our Reckoning, so She can't help fur-getting things now and then (mol).

But this year, She has actually been going on about it for at least a week and reminding Me that Today is My Gotcha Day!
My Third Gotcha Day, to be purr-cise.
Imagine that!


Some of you may remember when I furrst came to live with Big Sisfur Trixie and Mummy. I was furry tiny then. This is the furrst picture Mummy effur took of me:

A month passed and I grew and grew, and Mummy kept snapping away with her Flashy Box, and telling people how cute I was:

I don't know why it is, but for some reason, Humans seem to love that pose, and I myself soon learned that they consider it an open invitation to snorgle my belly.
So I purr-fected it:

and still use it today:

When I furrst arrived, there was just Mummy and Trixie and Me. Trixie taught Me about all sorts of Impawtant Things, like Smacky-Paws Boxing and Bird-Watching.

By the time Our New Little Brofur Shimshi joined Us, a year later, I was already a Grown-Up Kitty and was able to pass on all I had learned from Trixie, plus a few other things I had picked up along the way - such as Synchronised Sleeping Techniques.

And, of course, Shimshi helps Me get up to some really great Mischiefs - like climbing out of the living room window, onto the window-sill, which really freaks Mummy out (mol):





I must confess, I quite like being a Big Brofur.


Yes, I have to say, Life is Good.

Caspurr, the Tigger-Tabby King

Purim is Here!!!

Greetings, Effurrybody!

As many of you purr-obably know, tomorrow is Purim, so We are having a big pawty and We would like you all to come and celebrate with Us.

In Jerusalem, where We live, Purim is celebrated one day later than in most other places, but since most of Our Furr-iends live outside Jerusalem, We have decided to make a Compurr-omise (mol).  The Party will start tomorrow at 4 pm Israel time (which is still round about noon where many of our anipals live - in North America) and will be an Allnighter. So effurryone will be satisfied.

Fur-thermore, since it is a custom on Purim to get drunk, you can be sure there will be lots of niptinis, nip cocktails, nip on the rocks and catnipade, as well as plenty of Noms. In keeping with the custom of eating hamantaschen, we will be providing this delicacy with every conceivable kind of filling. And there will be Micecream, Minced Mice, Fricasseed Fish, all Our Favourite Flavours of Fancy Feast, Smoked Salmon, Tuna Terrine, Chick-hen Pie, Anchovy Cakes, Sardines on Toast,  - oh, I could go on and on.

And most important of all - don't forget to come in Fancy Dress. Purim is like Mardi Gras and Halloween all rolled into one. Prizes for the best costumes.

Looking forward to seeing you all tomorrow!


Nose-rubs, hugs and kitty-kisses

from

Queen Trixie, Empress of Jerusalem, Israel and the Entire Middle East, Guardian of the Boudoir, Alpha Kitty Extraordinaire - the Hostess with the Mostest:

  

Caspurr, the Tigger-Tabby King:

Shimshi, the not so Little Prince:

HAPPY PURIM, EFFURRYONE!

At Our Wits' End

Hallo, Effurrybody!

It's Me again, Queen Trixie, Empress of Jerusalem, Israel and the Entire Middle East. Mummy and I urgently need your advice!

The Thing is this: you pur-robably remember how We told you that, although my ladycat parts were stolen almost three years ago, I have still been getting these strange urges throughout the spring and summer, which make Me roll about on the floor and call furry loudly day and night, and even (hanging head in shame and looking around to make sure We aren't overheard) occasionally pee on the sofa.  But it's got much worse. This year, the Funny Feelings didn't even wait until the spring, but started in January already, and they seem to be getting stronger all the time. 
Mummy tries to be understanding but it got too much for her when I started peeing on the floor, on her Our new sofa, and on the woodwork (which leaves a permanent stain, so that the only way to get rid of it is to have the woodwork re-varnished), and even on the bed.

Kitties - she screamed at Me! She told Me she would send me away! And then She burst into tears and said she couldn't take it any more.

But I can't stop, kitties! I don't mean to make Mummy unhappy, but I have to mark effurrything with my scent, and I have to call out at the top of my voice at two o'clock in the morning.  I can't help Myself. I have to let all the mancats in the neighbourhood know that I am ready and waiting for them.

The other day, Mummy dragged Me off to the Evil, Stabby Place to see the V-E-T, who stole some of my bloods and sent them off to a place called "The Lab". Their tests con-furrmed high levels of something called oestrogen, which Mummy says is what makes Me have these uncomfortable feelings. And the V-E-T, Dr. Einat,  also consulted with another lady V-E-T, who is supposed to be some sort of an expert on this kind of purr-oblem (which is called Ovarian Remnant Syndrome). Dr. Einat reported back to Mummy what Dr. Smadar said, and it seems the choice is between further surgery to remove the remnants (with no absolute guarantee of success) and hormone injections, which the expert lady V-E-T told Dr. Einat do not have side effects. But from what Mummy has read on the Internet, hormonal treatments can have side effects.
Both courses of treatment are expensive and, for the operation, Mummy would have to take me to Dr. Smadar's clinic in Ramat Gan.

Mummy wanted to talk to the expert lady V-E-T herself, but could only get someone from her clinic who says the expert is furry busy and hasn't got time to talk to Mummy and in any case, doesn't need to talk to Mummy because she got all the necessary in-furr-mation from Dr. Einat. She said Mummy should make the appointment for the surgery and then, when Mummy brings Me to the clinic, she'll explain effurrything Mummy needs to know. Or, she says, Mummy can bring Me furrst for a consultation (more money! And why does she want to do the procedure at her private clinic rather than at the Veterinary Hospital in Beit Dagan, where she works?)

Anyway, kitties! That's not what Mummy wants to talk to the expert about. Mummy wants to talk about whether it's better for Me to have more surgery (and even then, they might not manage to find all the ovarian cells), or to risk hormone treatment.

And Mummy says, how can she put her faith in a V-E-T who hasn't even got time to discuss My Purr-oblem with Mummy!?
Besides which, Mummy doesn't know if Dr. Smadar really is unwilling or unable to speak with her first, or whether she is being purr-tected by an over-zealous assistant.

Kitties! What do you think? What should We do?

Demolition, Death and Destruction

Greetings, Effurrybody!

Queen Trixie here! Gosh, it's been Simply Ages since We last posted!
I wanted to tell you about a New Toy that Mummy bought for Us last week.

It was a black toy mousie on a kind of springy thingy that She thought would be great for practicing Smacky-Paws Boxing, when no Spurr-ing Purrtner was available:

The boys loved it, of course (mol)!

However, it didn't take Shimshi more than five minutes to tear the mousie off the top of the spring and pull one of its ears off. Mummy stuck it back, of course - several times, in fact - but, as you know, Shimshi displays great Purr-severance whenever there are oppurrtunities for Demolition and Destruction, so it wasn't long before Our New Toy looked like this:

From then on, it was a downhill spiral for that poor mousie. Caspurr got his teeth and claws into it, ripped off its tail and then purroceeded to eat its fur!
Pretty soon, this was all that was left of the mousie:

I would say that mousie was well and truly dedded, wouldn't you?
Of course, Mummy has purr-omised to sew its ears and tail back on again, but We aren't exactly Holding Our Breath, because She also said She thinks these cheap, Chinese toys are dangerous for Kitties and maybe also for Humans, too. She says She won't buy them anymore.
Looks like We are going to have to make our own toys from now on, because the Good Stuff is Expensive!

Maybe Shimshi had the Right Idea about the Phone Cord (mol).....