Those of you who know me well, know all too well that I'm always eager to discuss the colourful antics and personalities of my three indoor cats: Libby, Bebe, and Pookey. And when I read the recent post over at
the rik rak studio, all about our feline friends, I was more than happy to contribute a blog post about my girls.
Without further ado, let me introduce you to my "little helpers"...
I’m
Libby, a spayed female tortoise-shell/tabby mix (what they call "torbie"). I’m smarter than you. And your brother. I kill plants, and my paws smell like popcorn. I’m a street-wise world traveler extraordinaire. I’m small for my age, but I’ve been told that good things come in small packages, and I am of the same opinion. I’ve lived in Calgary, Alberta (where Mom adopted me at the SPCA in March 2001 when I was a year old) and The Netherlands (that crazy little country in Europe), and now I’m in Nova Scotia…fickle humans! I understand Dutch, especially the food-related words. I make my humans call me for supper via a very quaint Dutch nursery rhyme for cats. I can carry a conversation if I have to, but I prefer to chirp like a deranged pigeon to amuse my humans. Besides plotting to take over the world, and grooming myself meticulously, I like slapping Baby around, curling up into my “kitty lotus” position for a good nap, and hunting bugs. I love sleeping under the covers with my humans at night, and can even weather “Dutch ovens” with grace. I need to be in the middle of everything, because I am the center of your universe. I can get just about anything I want by lying on my back with my paws folded like a stupid canine (I’ve learned it makes my humans go “awww” and hand over the goods). I am very neat, precise, and elegant — yet I can adjust to just about any situation I find myself in. I have an innate need to sleep in odd places, and the top of the closet is “my zone”, meaning it is off bounds to everyone, including my annoying little sister Baby (excluding for myself, of course, hahah). I can tell if you don’t like cats. Also, I am your worst nightmare. PHOBIAS: That horrid stuff called H20. The sound of plastic bags. Being replaced. NICKNAMES: Lib. Wibby. Libbo. Libster.
Hi, my name’s
Bebe…but you can call me Bebe. (I also answer to
“Mooo!” for reasons you’ll find out later.) I’m a one-year-old spayed Calico female. My IQ is, in all probability, equivalent to a turnip, but I make up for it in being awfully cute and genteel-like. I have a lot of junk in my trunk, and yet I eat the least of us three, and am always wandering (my folks call me "the wanderer"). I’m a klutz. When we were fed dry food, I liked to push and chase my dry food around the dining room, before I ate it. I have a pink jiggly belly which could pass for an udder — I’m rather shameless about it, and will show it to just about anyone. My humans make fun of it, jiggle it with their hands, and call me a cow. Hobbies include: making grunting noises, running into door frames and table legs, falling off windowsills, hanging out around the bathtub trying to look cool, carrying assorted items around in my mouth while trying to meow (especially facecloths and towels) and laying them artistically throughout the house, picking futile fights with Libby when I’m bored, and stretching against walls. My humans say my purr resembles the trademark rumble of a Harley Davidson. I don’t fancy being picked up, but I like to cozy up in the bathroom with my humans, especially when they can’t chase me and are incapacitated on the toilet. When I sleep - which is rare - I look like I’m in "hog heaven". I have an affinity for H20; if you sprinkle it on me gently, it makes me happy. Just don’t dunk me - I will scratch. I'm *obsessed* with the bathroom and sleep there most days. I spent most of my early months in a cage at the shelter, so that at least gives me a good excuse for my ‘spare tire’ and lack of co-ordination. My humans brought me home from the SHAID Tree on Jan. 26, 2006 (I was so scared on the way home, I peed myself in their cat carry-on. Oh my cow, how embarrassing.) I can't help it - I'm jealous of Mommy's favorite, Pookey... so I slap her around a lot.PHOBIAS: Losing favor with alpha cat Libby. The vacuum. The sound of feet walking towards me, and any other sound. NICKNAMES: Babes. Bibi. BayBay.
Oh hai! I'm
Pookey Kiwi - "Pookey" is what my humans call me, and it seems to suit me well for some odd reason. I'm a sweet, gentle, and spunky little seal-point Siamese girl, brought home from my Tatamagouche breeder on Nov. 25, 2006 (they say I was born Sept. 1st but I have no recollection to confirm that date). I'm not a big girl...no doubt the runt of the litter, and am used to being pushed around by my two big sisters; although Libby treats me like a mommy cat most days and lets me snuggle up to her when I sleep. Baby is jealous of me! I'm timid and shy, but very loving. I'm as gentle as can be, and have never used my claws or teeth against my humans. Oddly enough my nose is always cold and wet, and I love to shock my folks by sniffing them with it. Although my first two days at my new home were spent avoiding all contact while hiding under bed linen, I now can't seem to get enough of being around my humans and sister cats. I'm still nervous of other people besides Mom and Dad, and have been dubbed the "phantom cat", as others seem to doubt my existence (I'm always hiding under the couch when visitors drop in). Baby and I like to play a lot - but she gets jealous of me easily! Libby will take care of me when I'm sleepy, and we often nap together. Pasttimes include eating like a pig, impromptu belly rubs, hunting socks, rubbing against feet, cuddling and "nose-kissing" my humans, sleeping on laps, and dropping my favorite toys in the water bowl. I am skilled at playing fetch with paper balls and twist ties, and I love sleeping on Mom's lap. I'm also quite the avid conversationalist.PHOBIAS: Phobias? Everyone and anything other than Mommy! Dad's big feet. Sudden movements of any kind. NICKNAMES: De Pook. Pooko. Little Thing. Pook-Pook. Pook. Pookster. KreukPook.
We like to help mom, as much as we can....
We wake up at the crack of dawn to help her get an early start
We help fold the paper...
Work on the website...
And organize the books when they're all finished...
We've put our heads together often enough, to brainstorm business stratagem...
We even help her with her knitting, now and then...
Tea or coffee, Mom?
See? We do quite a bit. What would you do without us, Mommy?
Somehow it's March. March! It just crept up on me, instead of marching in. Spring is supposed to be just around the corner; but just as our snow had melted, we have a new fresh fall today. 
While I still make soap from time to time, for personal use, I no longer make it to sell. For me, the entire experience didn't allow me to express myself creatively enough. And to me, creativity is very important.
While there were many talented bookbinders online, I noticed that no one -at the time- was offering books with quotes on the first page. As a book lover (especially of the classics), I've always thought it would be special to add a quote from literary greats, artists, poets, and excerpts from favorite classic novels -- my way of paying homage to such a wonderful world of inspiration. And voila...my quoted journals were born. :) I can almost imagine literary greats of centuries past, writing in handmade journals like these... Jane Austen writing notes as she walked in the pretty wilderness behind her house, annotating her next great work, Pride and Prejudice. Or a young Charles Dickens reminding himself in his journal to incorporate the comic villainy of Mr. Jingle in his first novel, The Pickwick Papers. Inspired by these literary masterminds, the majority of my journals' first pages pay homage to these outstanding writers and some of their best quotes! I will sometimes incorporate prints of my own original drawings and photos in a journal, to go along with certain quotes.
