Friday, November 23, 2007

 

Too Much Fun

My domestics are having way too much fun. Pawing through Nancy's files and email, I discovered this:

"Friday we decided to visit the Chittenden Locks and see the salmon ladder -- it was really neat! The Washington State Botanical Gardens are incorporated into the Army Corps of Engineers property surrounding the locks, so it is a lovely park as well as an interesting engineering attraction. We ate dinner at a famous local fish-n-chips place, and then Mark took me to Pioneer Square (the oldest section of Seattle) for a stand-up comedy show! It was great fun. Afterward, we explored the Capitol Hill neighborhood and found a really nice microbrewery. We sat at the bar and had Pumpkin Ale while we quizzed our bartender about good live music venues. She even bought us a drink!"

This explains why my cook keeps giving me the same food every day! Is it too much to ask that they spend a little more time planning my meals and a little less running all over the city, feeding their own faces as they go?!?


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More of the Neighborhood

The weather continues to be cold and sunny -- unusual for Seattle, they say. After doing some kitchen cleanup and eating more of the smoked fish, my domestics decided to take another walk in the neighborhood, once again taking photos to share with me. This time, they went further north, past the park where they took the duck pictures, all the way to the Roanoke Reef docks. This appears to be a newer and more upscale group of floating homes.
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Thursday, November 22, 2007

 

Thanksgiving, Too!

Of course, today wasn't only Mark's birthday. It was Thanksgiving, too, which explains all the food my domestics brought home yesterday. With Nancy here, the kitchen really came alive. You wouldn't believe all the food that came out of that tiny kitchen: deviled eggs, a 5-pound roast pork loin, fresh brussels sprouts in homemade garlic butter, artichokes, swiss chard gratin with homemade bechamel, Italian sausage stuffing, and a lovely salad.

And then, their friends Drew and Valerie came over with even MORE food! They listened to music, drank wine, dined, and talked for hours.

Food photos rarely do their subjects justice, but you can at the very least see what a magnificent variety of foods they had. Nancy and Mark agreed: it was among the most delicious Thanksgiving meals they had ever had.
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Mark's Birthday

My cook and man-servant feasted on smoked fish this morning, and I wasn't offered so much as a shred! Nancy even presented Mark with a birthday candle... in a bagel! The two of them drank tea and ate a variety of fish, with toasted bagels, cream cheese, and warm pretzel, making all matter of yummy sounds, while I hid in my usual spot under the human-bed.


In the early afternoon, they went for a walk, and took photos of the nearby park so I could get a better idea of what the neighborhood looks like. Nancy appears to have brought sunny weather with her.

The ducks at the park are rather trusting. Look how easy it would have been for Mark to bring me home a Thanksgiving duck!

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

 

Nancy's Arrival

Nancy arrived late last night, and boy is Mark happy to see her! They slept in this morning, and he worked from home today. He never works from home so he can spend more time with ME!

They went shopping this evening, and, from my hiding spot under the human-bed, I could hear them putting away lots of groceries. It seems they are preparing for some sort of feast.

Saturday, November 17, 2007

 

Caught!

Mark caught me using his laptop! Fortunately, I don't think he's onto me. I was able to close the browser just in time, and he seems to think I was just being cute.

In fact, I was reading an email message from one H.R.H. Bugscuffles (already, my blog has the attention of royalty!), and I have important news. His Highness writes that his own domestic, a man named Ryan, received a visit from Mark and Nancy not long ago (one of the weekend visits of which I was so suspicious). During this visit, they spoke at length about me and my pending trip to the houseboat, describing it as a grand adventure. Grand adventure?!? I'm with you, your Highness -- I'd just as soon stay at home.

As for whether there are any other cats in the neighborhood, I have seen one. A long-haired who struts up and down the dock like she owns it. I wonder if she does. I'll try to get a picture of her and post it here.


 

Bon Voyage?

Mark transferred photos from his camera to his file server today, and I had a chance to go through them. And look what I found!


It appears that Mark and Nancy's friends in Chicago threw them some sort of going-away party, with a cake and everything! More and more, I'm wondering whether they really have come here for some reason other than to sell me into slavery, or frame me for a heinous crime, or push me out to sea on this floating home.

Which, by the way, hasn't moved more than maybe a foot since we got here.



 

Another Rainy Day

I just snapped this shot through the window over the human-bed. Another rainy day. Mark hasn't left yet, and it's late in the afternoon. Must be Saturday.

Mark left the door to my room open for an hour or so, but there's no way I'm going out there. Best to wait until dark to explore.


Thursday, November 15, 2007

 

Te Extra├▒amos Tambien

Nancy sent Mark a sweet card, written in Spanish. During their nightly before-bed phone call, he read it back to her, and she helped him to translate it. On the front, there's a little cartoon character walking along, whistling, pretending not to miss someone he loves. When I saw it, I thought, "Hey, I do that -- I pretend not to miss Mark, and I've been pretending not to miss Nancy." Inside, the cartoon character is crying, and it says, "The show's over". How touching! On the one hand, it kind of makes me sick, it's so sweet. But you know, that's me! Mark comes home, and I just can't help myself. I meow and I meow, and I can't wait for him to pet me, and massage my neck, and just spend time with me.

On the inside of the card, Nancy wrote that she misses Mark... and ME! I think I've definitely been wrong about what's going on here. In response, Mark emailed her this photo, with the subject, "Te Extra├▒amos Tambien". And it's true, we do miss you, Nancy.
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Slippers!

When Mark came last night, he carried in a bunch of boxes. I've been wondering what they are, hoping they might offer some explanation as to why I'm here. Tonight he opened a couple up, and it looks like they're full of things from our Chicago home. One of the first things out was a pair of slippers, and he was SO happy to have them. He was cold and wet from walking in the rain, and apparently there's just nothing like a favorite pair of slippers when you're cold and wet. I wouldn't know, as nobody has ever given me slippers.

He was so excited about his slippers that he took this photo and emailed it to Nancy. Humans are so funny sometimes.
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Monday, November 12, 2007

 

I Do Love the Scritchin'

Mark left early this morning, and was gone all day. I was on the alert for bad guys, but things were quiet. When he returned, I realized how much I missed him, and I just couldn't help myself -- I started to meow for attention. He came into my room, sat on the human-bed, and started to meow back to me. He sounded so sincere... am I wrong about his malicious intent toward me?

I jumped up onto the bed, and he gave me a good scritchin'.



He spent a long time on the phone with Nancy, talking about something called "New Employee Orientation", something which he evidently has to do tomorrow, as well. New employee? That's funny... he seemed to like his job in Chicago. I bet it's a cover story, and I'm not buyin' it. There's no way Mark would have left his home in Chicago to move to this dreary place.

Whatever's really going on, Mark's being super lovey with me. It's nice, but it makes it hard not to trust him -- and I know it's not safe to trust him. I've been burned too many times: taken to the vet, forced to take pills, put on a diet that would starve a guinea pig. Oh, I know better than to trust him. But I do love the scritchin'.
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Sunday, November 11, 2007

 

Playing It Cool


I've decided it's best if I play it cool. Maybe Mark will let his guard down, and I can make a break for it.

This room actually isn't so bad. The bed is comfy, it's neither too warm nor too cold, and there are plenty of hiding spots. And Mark put out some food and water for me. For a captive, I guess I'm not doing so badly... at least for now.

 

No Way Out!

Once we FINALLY got off the plane, Mark carried me through the airport. I yowled and yowled, but people stopped and said, "Awww", as if I were a cute little kitten looking for his mother, and some even laughed! When we reached the rental-car counter, I gave up.

With the paper work complete, I was picked up and toted out of the airport, into another blasted vehicle. Mark called Nancy to tell her, "I'm almost there. Relieved? Yes, but I'm still anxious... I won't be fully relieved 'til I get Brother Man to his new home." New home, I thought? He must know I'm listening, and that's code for "mad scientist's laboratory". But then he said something that made me wonder if I might have misjudged him.

"I'll call you from the houseboat."

Houseboat? Sure enough, he parked the car, unbuckled my seat belt, and carried my bag down a wet dock, with HOUSES on either side, floating in the water! He stopped at the third door on the right, conjured keys from somewhere, and unlocked the door, and in we went.

How am I to interpret this new twist? Am I to be pushed out to sea?

He carried me into a small room with a human-bed in it, then set my bag down on the floor and unzipped the top. With a gentle touch, he undid my harness, then opened the front hatch. We seemed to be alone in this floating house, so I stepped out.


Out of the bag, I started to explore.
I looked to the right...
... looked to the left ...

... and found there's no way out!

I'm captive in a floating home.
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The Comfort of a Human's Feet

The pilot just said we're beginning our descent, and that we're only 90 miles from Seattle. Maybe my sense of time has been impaired by the drugs. He also said we're flying at an altitude of 28,000 feet. That's really high! I wish I could get up to a higher spot, so I could look down through a window -- I bet it's beautiful.

Even as my man is taking me from my home, to who-knows-where, I can't help but find comfort in his presence. When he snuggles his feet against the sides of this bag, I can't help but want to lean into them, as if he were providing me with some sort of safety. Such cognitive dissonance! Is it just me, or is life terribly confusing?

 

Flying Is For The Birds

Flying is for the birds. Beverage service has gone by twice, and they act like I'm not even here. Is it usually like this for cats, or is it because I've been abducted? Sometimes I get the feeling that humans are out to get us. Our own servants, rising against us.

This flight is interminable. Will it never end? The turbulence is much worse than I thought it would be. And my mouth is parched, and I can barely keep my eyes open, yet I can't sleep, either. They announced at the beginning of the flight that we're headed to Seattle, and that we would be arriving at 2:44 PM. That was 12:15. Can it really have been less than 90 minutes? I bet we're not headed to Seattle at all. I bet we're headed to... I don't know, but somewhere awful.

Wherever you really are, Washington and Madison, I hope you didn't have to FLY there!

 

Abducted!

I've been drugged, and I'm on a plane to Seattle! Mark (my cook and man-servant) and Nancy (my accountant and craniosacral therapist) trapped me (again), forced a pill down my throat (again!), stuffed me into a bag, and drove me to the airport. Mark then checked in, paying the princely sum of $80 for my passage. I yowled as loudly as I could, so that someone might realize I was travelling against my will, but the pill they gave me must have been some sort of tranquilizer. The same kind they gave me the other day -- the pills my doctor gave them on her last visit. I thought they were something more to help with my bladder stones. Now, it all makes sense... the moving of furniture, the boxes, the weekend trips, the arrival of their new housemate -- they've been planning this for weeks! For six years, I have allowed Mark and Nancy to remain in my service, and this his how I am repaid?

Writing even this brief entry has drained me of what little energy I had. I must rest, and prepare to make a run for it at the first opportunity. But how can I rest, when I am faced with this terrifying question: could this explain the recent disappearance of my old friends Washington and Madison? Could the whole "Camp Shorewood" thing be a cover-up?

P.S. If it looks like Mark posted this, I'm sorry for the confusion. I'm secretly using his Blogger account. It's not like he uses it, so I'm sure he won't notice.

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