This is my cat.

Her name is Lily.

When she does come in the house, if we’re lucky enough to catch her, she takes off into the basement and hides there for days – sleeping, eating, sleeping and eating. Eventually she comes out of hiding and meows her way back outside. Her meow is incredibly annoying and she uses it to her advantage.

Then we go days, sometimes weeks, without seeing her. Reggie is tagging along, too. He’s my other cat and he’s a total jerk. He peed in my bed once, just let it all out – right in my pillow area. I had to buy a new mattress. Ever since I’ve had a hard time trusting him. When he’s in the house I’m all paranoid, I shut my bedroom door and if I see him I tell him that he “must have serious issues” to go and do “something that disgusting.”

Both Reggie and Lily used to drive me crazy on a daily basis but then this guy showed up.

As soon as Murphy made his debut along with his owner, Mr. John Bear, the cats began their run and hide, meow their way out pattern. At first I was a bit worried. But then I realized that my cats had found someone else. The evidence? Their steadily growing bellies.

“Some sucker neighbor person is feeding them,” I told John.

“What in the hell? Seriously? But I see them out there – near the house, all of the time.”

“Then it must be someone close, someone who knows they’re my cats.”

I wondered who it could be for months – feeling like their eyes were on me every time I came and went, thinking they must be thinking there goes the lady who can’t take care of her own cats. But then I realized that the cats were playing both of us, coming into the house that was open, at the most convenient time. Suckers. Stupid humans with their stupid dogs.

Recently, thanks to the cold weather and a dose of guilt, John Bear has been trying to herd the cats into the house at night. I try to explain to him that their fat and fur will keep them well insulated.

“And if they want to come in,” I say, “they’ll be meowing like crazy at our door.” But John is a dog person and dog people are easily fooled by cats. So he spends a lot of his time outside calling for them, hunting them down.

Here’s a picture of John Bear on one such cat hunt.

I took it through my front door’s little square window. There was no way I was going outside into the freezing snow to hunt for my cats. Decided to let the dog person sucker go instead.

A few days later, on a warmer afternoon, John, Benjamin and I were all outside playing when we spotted Reggie. Crouched by one of my neighbor’s front doors he was avoiding us entirely. Pretending like we didn’t exist. After seven years of feeding him and cleaning his litter box, this was what I got. A cat who would trade me for a dog-less home and wet food.

And then the door opened and Reggie dashed down into my neighbor’s basement just as I was reaching for him.

“Reggie!” I hollered.

And then I looked up and there she was. The mystery neighbor.

“He comes over,” she said, “is that okay? I just don’t want you to think I’m trying to steal your cat.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine - really.”

Sucker.

And damn, I raised some smart cats.

——

Some random notes.

I will be updating my photo gallery all week with new pictures. I’ve been so behind and am finding tons of pictures I should have uploaded months ago.

You also might like this fun TV interview I did (via Skype) for Still Up with Max and Jason on Current TV. Check it out and let me know what you think. Such a different pace than ours in little, old Ohio but it was fun. Felt like I was on MTV or something.

Related posts:

1. House hunting and man hunting?
2. He texted me again! WTF?
3. My new dance partner

I would never compare men to dogs. Never.

Nope.

It’s just not my style.

I love my men.

Before I found John Bear many of you called me a man-hater. But now I’m a walking talking dog and man loving machine. Yesterday, inspired by your adventure stories, we hopped in the car and went to the dog park. Being a dog virgin I had no idea what to expect.

There were a lot of dogs. A lot of dogs. Running and jumping and slobbering everywhere.

But to my surprise there were also a lot of men.

I couldn’t be sure about the dogs but the men, based on their ring fingers, all appeared to be single. And for the first time, in a really, really long time, I didn’t even think about dating a one of them. I’m so taken, it’s ridiculous. Instead I picked up the phone and called Mia, “You’ve got to get to the dog park – there are single men EVERY WHERE.”

“But they all have dogs,” she said.

“What? WHO CARES! I gotta go,” I had to hang up because Benjamin was about to be tackled by one of the said dogs. Don’t get your tails in a bunch about Mia being yucked out by dogs.

I was her 5 months ago. I hated dogs. Hated them. Couldn’t even stand the sight or smell of them. I wasn’t one of those bitchy people who cowers at dogs when someone walks by with one. I thought they were kind of cute – but only on special occasion. Mia will come around and soon I’m going to take her to the dog park.

As for Benjamin… well, if he’s ever on a battle line in a war zone I know what he’ll do. Stand on top of the nearest hill

and yell at the top of his lungs,”COME AND GET ME, HOT SHOTS!”

The enemy will come

and then he’ll start wrestling with them and rolling around in their poop without even flinching. If there ever is another World War, I’m sending my kid to Siberia.

And next time, we go to the dog park he’s staying behind and I’m bringing Mia.

Would you eliminate a guy just because he has a dog? Not into dogs? Check out my Top Spots to Meet Men list.

No related posts.

Take a look at this one.

Even down to his fuzzy little tail, he’s got muppet written all over him. And just when I thought I’d never see a dog that looked more like a muppet this one showed up.

Meet Fergis, Murphy’s new coffee shop buddy.

After their brief stare down, it was on.

If they were cats one of their eyeballs would have been scratched out but instead they tackled each other in a doggy death match and then they stopped and started sniffing each other.

“Dogs make friends faster than people do, that’s all,” said Fergis’ wise owner. I think it’s also because Fergis and Murphy recognized each other from a day long ago when they were both rocking it out on the piano.

Dogs or muppets? Are dogs really muppets? Or are muppets really dogs? And if muppets are dogs than what are cats?

—-

All is well.

Working on a top secret project that should be done by late next week. It’s why I’ve been so scant via e-mail, on Twitter, on the Single Moms Forum and here on the blog. My apologies. But I know you’ll all understand when you see what it is.

xoxo

Alaina

Related posts:

1. A reminder and a secret.
2. Secret Code