10 Things Cats Over 30 (in cat years) Should NEVER DO

Listen up kitty, you're getting old, and let's face it- you're kinda gross.
Here's a list of activities you need to start phasing out of your lifestyle, since they really should be saved for the kittens among us.

10. Pouncing and Frolicking 

Decidedly youthful activities that, when done by a kitten are adorable, but are just unseemly when carried out by the aged. We young felines need role models that don't make fools out of themselves over a dangling string, no matter how fun it is.

9. Going into Heat 

Can I just hack up a slimy hairball right now? EWWWW! You DO NOT get to go into heat. First of all, why aren't you fixed, you stinky old cougar! And second, procreation at your age is probably damaging to the species! Stop being selfish and make way for the pretty young calico next door.  I would rather live for a week in my litter box than have to listen to your gross yowls of horniness.

8. Licking Yourself in Public

Self grooming is one of the staples of feline life, but there's no shame in doing it in private if you're over a certain age! Displaying your limbs and flaunting your scratchy tongue are fine when you are soft and fresh- unlike your matted dried out old pelt.

7. Parading Around with Your Tail Up 

Yes, your little butthole may have been cute when you were younger, but now no one wants to see that geriatric poop noose. Keep your tail down and have some respect for yourself. Everyone will thank you for it.

6. Stalking Mice...

Or lizards or birds or anything else that is faster than your creaky old bones can even dream of moving. You look like a half-wit hound! Just pack it in and take a nap. Leave the hunting to those of us with spring left in our paws.

5. Basking in a Pool of Sunlight

Ahhh... the feel of the hot sun baking on your freshly quaffed fur, glory glory... what YOU don't realized is the bright rays are just showcasing every broken whisker, every patch of sparse fur, in a word U-G-L-Y. Blech.
You know what makes you look pretty and young? Hiding in the dark closet. Try it.

4. Partying with Catnip

You knew it was over when you started wheezing every time you huffed the stuff, then came the embarrassing weeping sessions, and finally the dreaded nip noggin. The hard truth is that a kitty stumbling around with nip in her whiskers is funny when she's young, but just tragic after 30. Sorry

 :(

3. Kneading Your Paws on ANYTHING!

The sensual action of kneading your soft paws on cushions or stomachs is supposed to remind everyone of the beautiful moments you spent nursing from your mama- when you were a tiny kitten. For you that was way way back before Garfield was born. When you do it now it just screams of desperation and pathetic longing for your youth. Get over it.

2. Stretching 

Why has no one told you that your jangley stomach hangs and flops all over the place when you stretch out like that? Get a little self-conscious and feel some shame about your aging body for Sphynx sake.

1. Purring 

I would hope by this stage in life you have a little more self control when it comes to the superfluous expressions of purring. Reign it in, you tired old flea resort -  you sound like an idiot. Purring is for kitties with hope in their hearts and a bright future ahead of them... uh, not you.

I know this all may seem a bit harsh- so go put on the soundtrack to CATS and sing the song "Memories" over and over until you feel like throwing the last of your nine lives in front of a speeding SUV. Dying tragically is the most fashionable thing you can do at this point in your life.
Sorry, not sorry.

-Sweet Pretty Catty Kitty. 
     Meow.

Sorry You Died Little Mole

I tried to save this mole from death.

Hey Mr. Mole - run away!

My rodent terrorist cat had already assassinated his friend, and was now toying with him, keeping him close, not letting him run.
I quickly brought the cat inside, and tried to administer first aid to the mole.
His breathing was shallow, he was rooted to the spot- he would not run.
Then I had the bright idea that I should show him to my 5 year old son.
Blinded by my human privilege, I put the mole in a clay pot and brought him into my house.

The mole jumped.

He hit the floor.

He was NOT ok.

I quickly brought him back outside and for the rest of the morning I monitored him - hoping he'd move, run, dig, something, ANYTHING mole like.

His breathing was rapid, his eyes half mast, his whiskers twitched.

At one point I saw him clean himself- Hooray! He's stable!

But he would not move from his spot.

Was he dying?
Was it the fall?
The cat?
PTSD?

Hours later someone (I'm not pointing fingers here- but it wasn't me) left the back door open, and the next thing I knew- the mole was again a prisoner of war.

I ran out- chase the cat away screaming NOOOOO
but it was too late.
He'd gone to that great dirt tunnel in the sky.

I'm sorry you died little mole.

On behalf of all dumb dumb humans-
I am so sorry for it all.

Anyone want Kombucha stuff? Cause I SUCK At KOMBUCHA

I love kombucha! Bubbly, cidary, sharp and sweet, full of probiotics.
-like a soft drink for people who give a scoby about their health.

That's why when the owner of my son's preschool offered me a starter to brew my own elixir, I was intrigued.

I didn't say yes at first, mostly because I have a long history of killing voiceless living things: Plants, worms, sea monkeys- have all died slow humiliating deaths at my neglectful hands.

BUT, she told me, IT'S SOOO EASY! And your family will LOVE it!

She patted me reassuringly and smiled so huge and gorgeous it was like the holy goddess of kombucha herself was shining her light on ME as a chosen one to raise her pups.

So I said ok.

I read half a million blogs and got the necessary jars and jugs and glass and teas and sugar -
And I was ready!

Like a good fungal fostering soldier, I followed the instructions perfectly. I brewed my tea, dissolved the sugar and waited for it to cool.
I put it in my jug with the SCOBY over it, while uttering gentle words of thanks and encouragement.
I covered it in cloth tightened by a repurposed rubber band, and placed it gingerly inside a cabinet for a week.

AND IT WORKED!!!
My SCOBY was flourishing! Sure she looked like grilled cheese vomit, but she was mine!
And for nine weeks I diligently poured my homemade kombucha into jars and drank it everyday.
Then I skipped a day.
Then two, or was it three?

I could not get my family to drink it, and I never seemed to want it either.

I knew I was in trouble when out shopping one afternoon, I picked up a bottle of kombucha and drank it.
I WAS CHEATING ON MY KOMBUCHA!!!

Yummmm....

After that all fermentation went hairy.
Literally.
Fuzz appeared on my SCOBY, and once that happens- it's compost time.

So there you have it- a fermentation brewery with no brew. A girl with no elixir. A SCOBY dead and buried.
Does anyone want all this kombucha stuff?

'cause I SUCK at KOMBUCHA!

I SUCK at Vision Boards

Last night I went to a vision board party, yay!

I was really excited, I mean it’s good to have a vision for your life, right? And it’s fun to cut out pictures from magazines and paste them on poster board, plus it tells your subconscious and ultimately THE UNIVERSE, what you want to manifest! So I was psyched!

But, crystals and mantras and sage and magical wish paper not withstanding, I floundered and failed to make a vision appear- ON THE PAPER- so it’s no wonder I can’t get that shit to materialize in my life!

At the end everyone proudly showed their altruistic and wise visions, explaining the deeper meaning and kick-ass trajectory their lives would soon be taking.

On mine some trees, sparkles, and a lady with nice hair, were all lamely stuck on, like the images themselves were embarrassed to be seen with me. As I held my board up, the word ADVENTURE curled off the page and fell to the floor, as if to say: nice try Reiser, not gonna happen.

So there you have it. In an attempt to better my life, I found I suck at even the arts n’ craft skills necessary to better my life.

I mean, come on...

I suck at vision boards.



Ah, Hope… you still there? Sing me to sleep tonight with your sweet eternal song, cause I still believe…