Things are looking up!

They really are!

My first book project is basically over, and it turned out great, woman have been working with is very pleased with pictures and am more then happy.
Even went to party with her, mom, and Janie last Friday night. First party in a long time. Had lots of fun.

Then went to aunt's house for Easter supper last Sunday, was great. Haven't got myself drunk like last time, thank god. Honestly, that was the last thing missing before I truly became Bridget Jones, getting drunk and embarrassing myself and stumbling around at family gatherings. Never again, I had promised myself...and see, Sunday was great!

Even hair is going well. Not that it's growing at all, mind you, but at least it's toned down to an acceptable color, pretty close to natural shade.

Timine is going great, he's going to keep his claws, after all, became quite reasonable. Looks like someone *is* reading my blogs !

Spring is here, yay!

Claws!

Ouch! Think I must look like some sort of scratching device or something.
Why else would kitty (ok, it's now official, his name is Timine. Pronounced Tee-mean, which basically means Kitty in French....how lame of me, but it fitted him so well.)
So, why would he scratch the face off of me like that!? I had decided to not have him de-clawed, but he seriously got me rethinking.

Between escalating the fake-tree and climbing up the back of my brand new couch all needle-claws out, he also seems to think it's fun the wake me up at night, pouncing not only on my legs (which is understandable), but also on my innocently sleeping face. I've got two nice scratches on my left cheek to prove it.

And also a few on my hands and four on my thigh. It's getting dangerous, seems like Timine is trying to send me a message here: Call the Vet quick, before you loose an eye girl! It still breaks my heart to have to do that....I'll wait a few weeks to see if things changes as he matures...who knows, if not, the front claws will have to go. Hope you read that, kitty.

No more Pyg...hello Loki

By popular request, new kitty will no longer be called Pyg, short for Pygwillion. As the name has proved to be too complicated to pronounce in it's entirety and to farm-animal sounding when shortened. So I gave up.

Kitty spent yesterday night without a proper name while I looked trough every mythology, history and grimoire I own (All three of them!;P). In a desperate quest to find the perfect original name, for I will *not* have a cat named hairball, puffy, fluffy or any other similar names people like to call their animal.

I came up with a nice long list, some I will keep for future female cats, wouldn't want to effeminate poor kitty by calling him Strega or Gaia. A few names I considered were Callisto (Calli), Spica, Griffin, Moony, Sphynx, Doxy, but I finally ended up picking Loki. After getting the consent of entire family of course. To see if everyone could say it right...

Oooh, am really into redecorating these days. Always happens when am out of money. Finances are not great since sister has moved out, especially because I bought a brand new sofa ensemble while on my non-payed vacations. (Genius idea!) But the sofa is looking great, will get it tomorrow, is totally worth it. And money will come back to me, when it does, apartment will get grand makeover. (Inspired by awesome "Friends" decor) Am starting to draw a list of things needed which won't cost too much. Am all for recycling.

The Madness of Kittens

Alright, I thought I knew cats. I thought I had witnessed or heard of every feline-oddity that existed.
What with Gibril spilling his food and water out of his bowls before eating it, Pixy sleeping in the bathtub, etc. Other then that, they were pretty tame, and relaxed....and I was used to that peace. Now...NOW! Ugh! Think am going crazy.

Pygwilion is still an absolute angel, but I didn't remember kitten to cause so much worrying. Dru certainly wasn't like that!

I thought I would be all upset and sad when I came home last night, with the absence of my babies and all, but Pyg didn't even give me time to think about things other then him.

The second I put the key in the lock I heard him running to the door and slouching against it. Yes, I had to push it open along with the little hairball. Ever so slowly, in total fright of crushing one of his little paws under the door. He seemed to think it very funny. Then I spent the whole time from coming home, to preparing dinner, to shower being careful not to crush him, (he quite enjoys getting tangled in my legs.)

I don't know what's up with him...he's got this undeniable talent for finding every dangerous place and thing and trying it. He has a very developed taste for danger he has.
He recently found out that he could indeed climb on the back of the rocking-chair (which seems like Mount Everest to him) and use it to climb the fake tree in the corner. One would think he would have understood after a few times, that this is not a real thing, with roots and all, and that it does fall down when a big kitty throws itself into it.

Unlike normal cats, he doesn't like to go to sleep on a chair, or the sofa, or some other comfy, safe place.
No, for Pyg, it's sleeping on the edge of a huge cushion looming over the deadly precipice that is the sofa's side. I know I should let him experience things for himself...but I can't help it, he gets me so worried. How can I work in these conditions of constant stress!? I tried to start a painting last night, I ended up constantly looking out for him, seeing if he wasn't too far over the edge of his cushion, or preventing the tree to fall once again and getting his little hairy paws out of my paint palette (complete failure).

And when I thought I would be at peace in bed, now is time for Pyg to play. Meaning running and pouncing all over my bed, purring and scratching at my hair all night. All the while worrying about him not eating enough. Sigh

Having a kitten demands time and energy. I can't wait for him to become an old lazy cat like Gigi and Pixy, whose only craziness consisted of spilling food.