W.W.F.K.D?

What Would Fatty Kitty Do? With this blog, that is. His unique attitude on life has fled with his earthly existence, and leaves only a librarian (Fatty Kitty would not allow a capital "L" until my graduation, so I'm waiting until March 2010) who feels unequal to the task of following in his footsteps...or pawsteps...or more likely, his naphollows. I'm sure you can figure out what a naphollow is from the context, right?

Compounding my feelings of inadequacy is the fact that I have to go to work - something Fatty Kitty never had to do. Although I believe he defined any effort he made to do anything that wasn't pleasurable as work. But you know what I mean. So I'll go to work and ponder...W.W.F.K.D?

the librarian

In Which: we pay our last respects to Fatty Kitty

PJ, the Fatty Kitty died on April 13th.  We miss him so.  In memoriam, we have released pictures of Fatty Kitty in his younger days, before he became famous.  Some of the earlier pictures show him with his brother, Luigi, who died in 2005.

      Exploring the lilac with Luigi on the left, PJ on the right.

The brothers had similar markings, which became more pronounced as they grew older.  But Luigi had short fur, and PJ had long fur, thus he became known as the "Fatty Kitty."

 

Luigi is looking at the camera.  PJ is the one in the yoga pose, naturally.  It is the pose known as "Pork Chop."

In the photo above, PJ is above Luigi for once.  Luigi dominated the pair while he was alive, but PJ made up for it after Luigi died.

   

PJ felt he was a great help with schoolwork, as he liked to sit on my lap while I typed, starting in 1996, on my trusty Brother word processor...

and on to Missoula, where he perfected his snoozing technique while I finished up my Social Work degree:

 

to this winter when he helped me with the statistics in my research class.

I'll miss all the little hairballs we used to make after we brushed you, Fatty Kitty, and your purrs, and the way you smelled when I picked you up and squeezed you.  Thanks for not minding tooo much. We shared much more than I can tell in one blog post, of course.  I love you, Fatty Kitty!

Special thanks to the staff at Alpine Animal Hospital, who lost someone very dear to them in April as well. 

In Which: I Recommend a Training Video.

Fatty Kitty does not usually lend his name to commercial enterprises or the endeavors of others.  However, in the interest of continued superiority of the Cat, I recommend the strategies employed by Simon's Cat.  Watch and Remember!

In Which: I Return. And I have a New Bed.

Here I am.  Are you glad to see me?  Of course you are.  I've been busy doing statistics.  Let's see: I now know the difference between descriptive statistics and inferential statistics.  See, I'm reading my textbook.

However, I prefer qualitative analysis.  But enough about me, what do you think of my new bed?

 

Of course, my bright wool blanket with the Killer Whale on it distracts from the central theme, which is that of wood, and support, 

 

and lots of room underneath to lounge and cough up hairballs.  They're threatening storage but so far, so good.  

The sailor decorated it for me: a tree to run up with my claws and meow for a couple of hours until I realize they're not going to get me.  Then I come down.  

and a bear foot.  

 That has something to do with the sailor and his bare feet.  He rarely wears socks.  This somewhat distresses the librarian, as she likes to knit socks.  Oh well, knit a kitty bed for me, I say.  On the other hand, I like the bed the sailor made me well enough.  I leave my hairs on it to show him my appreciation.  I think he understands; he mentions it every time I leave some for him.

Well, ta-ta for now.  I'm off to get groomed.  Grooming is big these days, with spring coming, and I must keep up appearances, you know.  Rrrrreeeeooowww!

OWEO, oh OOOO oh. OWEO, oh OOOO oh.

No, it's not the Wicked Witch's guards from the Wizard of Oz. It's the Working Women of Whitefish dressed up as Fairy Godmothers. What a relief. Those guards always gave me the creeps. And that music:
Da da daaa, d-d-d d-d-d daaaaa. You know what I'm talking about, don't you? Ooo, I didn't know a Cat could get goosebumps.

Thank goodness that most of the time it's peaceful and quiet around here. I relax watching the squirrels come out to eat sunflower seeds.

We had quite a bit of snow, which has deteriorated into ice. Luckily, the librarian has kept the back deck clear. My Domain must be habitable for a Cat of delicate sensibilities and paws, y'know!

Lately, she's been taxing my brain with statistics. She's been staying up far too late, and I become quite disgusted with her for not going to bed on time. I can't be calculating p-values and what not. I need my beauty rest!


I post this picture in spite of her protests that everyone will look up her nostrils. I always have to look up her nostrils. Harumph!

In Which: I wonder what will happen next

Nothing is happening. There isn't even any new snow. All the snow is old and crusted with the sunflower shells left by messy squirrels. How they do make my whiskers twitch!  The large accumulation of powdery snow teamed up with the heavy, wet snow to break branches on the lilac in the back yard (My Domain!) The librarian will be doing some more pruning this spring.

Speaking of, she's been hard at it again, trying to change from a librarian to a Librarian. I used to mind that she hogged the computer, but now that I have claimed her schoolwork lap as my own, I am quite comfortable. She has everything she needs around her so that she doesn't have to get up - pencils, paper, articles, my brush, some catnip, and a pair of scissors that she thinks she's going to use on that mat on my hind leg when I become less vigilant.  However, I believe in constant vigilance, as espoused by Maggie Drew when playing cards.

I would illustrate my prose with pictures, but the librarian has lost the cable to my camera.  Hmmm, while she's out of the room I could always order a new one...her debit card is right here...miaowwww.  If nothing's happening, a Cat must make do.  Ciaow.

In Which: the librarian wastes a lot of time making silly movies.

The librarian challenges her siblings to recognize their inner John Travolta:

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