Sights, Scenes and Travel of an everyday person

Category Archives: Pets

The Bathroom Scale Chronicles

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Orange tabby cat lying on the floor with one paw resting on a digital bathroom scale.

Banner Expands His Territory

With the feline peace treaty in full effect, Banner has acquired new territory. He has always been the bathroom cat — you know the type. The cat who has to help you pee in the morning, supervise your tooth‑brushing, and guard you while you shower. He’s the cat who naps in the sink like it’s a spa treatment. He even has his own cat brush hanging on the hook by the sink. But with the Feline Accord in place, there’s been a new development.

The Bathroom Scale Takeover

Banner has apparently taken on a new identity: Bathroom Scale Cat. I don’t know what about that cold little square appeals to him, but he’s claimed it like it’s a premium memory‑foam pet bed. He curls up on it, loafs on it, supervises from it. It’s his throne now. I may need to start weighing myself in the kitchen.

And the way he lies on that scale makes getting on the toilet a challenge. He doesn’t budge an inch — maybe flicks his tail or moves his paw a quarter inch, just enough to acknowledge that yes, he sees me, but no, he will not be relocating. The scale is his territory now, and I am merely a visitor.

The Shower Inspection Committee

This morning, he added a twist to his new role.

I turned on the shower, expecting the usual reaction — Banner hears water, Banner vanishes. That’s been the rule for years. But today? He stretched up on his hind legs like a tiny orange meerkat, peeking over the edge of the tub to watch the water come down. Completely fascinated. Tail relaxed, ears forward, eyes wide. The little man was studying it like he’d been appointed Chair of the Shower Inspection Committee.

And of course — of course — this adorable new behavior happened at the exact moment I did not have my phone. Normally I’d grab it and snap a picture, but I was already in the shower, and there was no way I was sprinting naked through the living room with its giant porch sliders just to document Banner’s sudden interest in hydro‑engineering.

Meanwhile, Balboa…

Every household has that one cat who refuses to participate in the plot. In ours, that’s Balboa. While Banner was conducting his water‑flow analysis, Balboa was sound asleep in his kitty condo, completely ignoring the drama. Not a twitch, not a peep, not even a token supervisory glance. Banner was having his scientific breakthrough, and Balboa was deep in REM sleep, dreaming of snacks and absolutely uninterested in bathroom politics.

Proof of Life (Sans Cat)

Cats always pick the funniest moments to be cute — especially the ones you can’t photograph. But I did get pictures afterward: the famous bathroom scale (sans cat) and the porch sliders I was absolutely not streaking past. Proof of the scene, even if Banner’s cameo was unrecorded.

Some moments are meant to be lived, not captured — but I’ll take the ones I can get.

 

The Feline Geneva Convention: Peace Talks in the Kitty Jungle

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Two cats rest together on a carpeted floor near a window. A black cat is stretched out on its side, and an orange cat is curled up beside it. Soft natural light from the window creates a calm, cozy scene with a cat tree in the background.

Two cats sit together on a carpet near a glass door, the orange cat upright and the black cat lounging beside him, both looking like they’re deep in important “cat business.”

Go away hooman. we’re busy

The Great Truce of the Kitty Jungle

I don’t know what’s going on in the halls of cat chaos, but Banner and Balboa seem to have worked out a truce of sorts. Looks like they’ve held thier own Geneva Convention and come to terms of some sort.  Balboa is usually the temperamental one, yet lately he’s been right there beside Banner like they’re co‑captains of calm. Maybe there’s hope for World Peace after all.

Summer Sunbathers & Squirrel Watch

Maybe it’s just summer. These two love lounging in front of the slider on warm afternoons, soaking up the sun like tiny furry sunbathers. Mornings have them nose‑to‑screen, vibrating with excitement as squirrels race along the top of the fence like they’re running the Indy 500.

I had high hopes that adding a sock of birdseed to my flower basket would attract sparrows or finches to entertain the boys, but it’s been a couple of weeks and still no interest. We get a few birds on the fence, but none come to visit the hanging basket. We aren’t allowed to have feeders on our decks — the folks on the first floor complained — and honestly, I can’t blame them. Still, I was hoping for at least a few visitors.

Fireworks, Hideouts, and Evening Drama

Evenings are quiet in the condo, mostly because the neighbor is shooting off fireworks every night. As soon as the first bang goes off, Balboa vanishes like a magician’s assistant. I don’t even know where he hides. Banner, not so much. The noise doesn’t bother him — but then, not much does. He’s such a laid‑back kitty cat.

The Cat Grass Chronicles

Both boys are leaving my little AeroGarden alone now that they have their own cat grass. Balboa visits his garden every morning, and usually after dinner I’ll find him poking around in it. Thankfully he seems to have stopped chewing it. When the first garden sprouted, he plowed through it like a furry lawnmower and deposited a pile of cat‑grass straw right in the middle of the hallway. It looked like a slimy haystack. No repeat performances, thank goodness.

Closing Thought

For now, the Kitty Jungle is calm — no zoomies, no turf wars, no dramatic monologues from Balboa. Just two cats enjoying summer, sunshine, and the occasional squirrel show. Peace may be fragile, but I’ll take it while it lasts.

Squirrel in a tree

 

 

It’s Another Scorcher Out There!

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A thermometer showing both Fahrenheit and Celsius scales rises close to the top against a bright, golden sky. Sunlight flares behind scattered clouds, emphasizing extreme heat and a hot summer day.

🌞 Hey Massachusetts! Keep Cool Out There Today

It’s going to be another scorcher today. How high can the temps go? Anyone taking bets? The weather folks are hinting at a new record, and if you missed triple digits yesterday, you may get another chance today. Summer’s showing off, whether we asked for it or not.

Remember that Arizona joke — the skeleton in the desert saying, “But it’s a dry heat.” Well, that’s not us.

 

We may only be a few days into July, but it feels more like Miami in August. One big wall of hot, humid air pressing down on everything.

My poor flowers are about to give up the ghost. If you’ve got baskets or pots out on the deck, give them a good soak and tuck them into some shade if you can. They’re fighting the same battle we are.

Even the cats are trying to stay cool

And my cats? Banner and Balboa are already plopped. No zoomies today. They’re acting like Victorian fainting ladies, stretched out dramatically in whatever rug‑free room they can find. It’s not as though I don’t have the AC on — even set at 80°, it still feels cool compared to the outside.

So know that I’m thinking of you, especially anyone out in this heat and not at the beach.

If you’re running errands, take it slow. Keep water close. Pets will need extra shade, plants will need a little encouragement, and we all need to check in with ourselves more often than we think. Humidity makes everything feel heavier.

Check on neighbors, check on your gardens, and check on yourself. Stay cool, stay steady, and let’s ride out this muggy scorcher together.

P.S.

Don’t forget your sunscreen!

Two white beach chairs sit on sandy shore facing a calm ocean. A folded blue umbrella and paddle stand nearby. In the foreground, two surfboards rest in the sand, one upright with colorful hexagonal decals. A person sits near the water’s edge under a bright sky with soft clouds

 

Booms Before the Fourth of July: Why Are We Doing This Already?

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Vibrant Fourth of July fireworks lighting up the night sky with red, blue, and gold bursts.

A Holiday of Mixed Emotions

The Fourth of July has always been a holiday of mixed emotions for me. I can feel overwhelming pride in being an American — I still get choked up over the Star‑Spangled Banner — yet I can also cringe at some of the politics and the things our leaders do in the country’s name. I feel nostalgia for growing up in the country, where we set off firecrackers and small fireworks in wide‑open fields. Though even then, I never liked the loud bangs. If someone ever invents silent fireworks, I’ll be first in line.

Fireworks: The Part I No Longer Look Forward To

As I’ve gotten older, my fondness for fireworks has faded even more. They’re the main reason I no longer look forward to this most patriotic of holidays. My love for my country hasn’t changed, but do we really need to celebrate with explosions? The big town displays are beautiful — I’ll give them that — but the noise is another story. And it would be one thing if it were limited to the actual holiday. But it never is.

Every neighborhood seems to have that person who wants to set off mini‑fireworks and firecrackers just to make noise. They’re illegal in Massachusetts, but no one enforces it. The police say that by the time they arrive, no one “sees anything,” so it’s a waste of resources. Meanwhile, the noise starts in mid‑June and rolls on for weeks. If we must endure it, can’t we at least confine it to July 4th itself?

Pets, Babies, and the People Who Don’t Care

I hate watching my pets cower under furniture, refuse to eat, and slink around in fear because some unfeeling jerk drove to New Hampshire, bought illegal fireworks, and decided to terrorize the neighborhood. And it’s not just pets. Think of the poor parent who has finally gotten their newborn to sleep — that rare, precious moment of quiet — when suddenly BANG! The baby jolts awake, terrified, and the crying starts all over again. Mom or Dad has to begin the whole exhausting process from scratch because someone wanted to play amateur pyrotechnician.

At least when I was growing up, we set fireworks off in the middle of a field — not ten feet from someone else’s home.

Drone Display – American Eagle

There Are Better Options — Use Them

So yes, this is a rant. I was sitting here enjoying a quiet evening when the pyrotechnics started next door. The cats ran, I jumped, and now I have to close my slider, lose the evening breeze, and turn on the AC — which is bad for the environment and costs money. Add that to the list of reasons I’m over this tradition.

Stick to the big, sanctioned town displays — or better yet, switch to drone shows. They’re stunning, and no one’s pets or babies end up traumatized. But please, leave the neighborhoods in peace.

How about you — are the early fireworks driving you (and your pets) up the wall too?

 

🐾 A Trip Down Kitty Chaos Memory Lane

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Every now and then my blog stats take a little stroll through the archives, and today they dug up this gem from 2013. I had completely forgotten about it — back when the household was ruled by Buddy, Smoky, and Rocky.

If you think Banner and Balboa invented chaos, mischief, and dramatic flair… oh no. They’re simply carrying on a proud family tradition with great enthusiasm.

Enjoy this blast from the past — proof that my life has always been run by cats.

What are these cats thinking? Part 1

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Morning Rituals and Demanding Cats

It’s just another day in the life here at the old homestead. 3 cats, 1 human.

Stepping out of the shower I’m greeted by my “Bud”. Buddy has figured out that after the shower comes the hair dryer and he loves to have a blow dry to start the day.  A handsome fellow like Buddy has to look his best.

Senior Cat Smokey, aka Mr. Cranky Pants continues his demanding ways. I’m working, Buddy and Rocky are sleeping but what’s that sound? A soft pitiful meow! Looking around I see a small bundle of gray fur curled at my feet, big eyes staring intently, “meow”.

Only the tiniest of sounds. I ask what’s wrong and a paw reaches out to tap my leg. I stand and he uncurls, heading for the feeding station. Oh my, his bowl is only half full. Surely he will starve to death before it’s time for dinner.

Chaos on the Staircase

The laundry is on the first level. My condo, on the 2nd. As I open my door, arms full of clean clothes fresh from the dryer, a black and white streak nearly bowls me over and scoots down the stairs.

Dry laundry gets tossed onto the couch as the chase begins. A black tail with a white tip darts around the bottom of the stairs and disappears around the corner. Hitting the last step, the turn is sharp — just in time to see that tail vanish again at the far end of the hall.

I race down there. I don’t want Buddy running into one of the dogs that live here or being let outside. As I round the last corner I see …nothing!

My heart starts to pound. Slowly I begin climbing the stairs on that end of the hall. First flight, nothing, 2nd flight and there he is, sitting there on the landing, waiting for me.

I pick up his Majesty and cradle him in my arms. Back down the 2 flights of stairs, back down the long hall and back up the last flight to my unit.

I open the door, set the errant one on the floor and close the door very fast.

Laundry Folding: A Full‑Contact Sport

I return to the couch to start folding the nice , warm, clean clothes only to find Rocky has made a nest and is curled up on top of the pile. Now every time I try to pull out a towel or shirt or sock I have to unhook his possessive claw. I try to shoo him away but he only digs in harder. He doesn’t give up until the last item is folded. Then he stalks away, annoyed that his warm bed was “stolen” from him.

The Basket Bandit Strikes Again

Holiday2013 021 copy

I turn to put the folded clothes in my basket to carry them all to be put away and come face to face with his Majesty again. This time he’s taken up residence in the clothes basket.

Holiday2013 023 copy

I give up leaving him to play jail bird in the basket while I carry the  stacks of folded clothes to the bedroom. Finally, everything is put away but they aren’t done with me yet.

Some things change… but cats being cats? That’s forever.