Sights, Scenes and Travel of an everyday person

Category Archives: Pets

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.

Banner and Balboa, Agents of Chaos

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Two cats mid‑wrestle on the carpet, frozen in a moment of chaotic sibling energy.

Agents of Chaos

Today’s post is brought to you by Banner and Balboa, Agents of Chaos

Welcome to my life.
Please note: this really happened, and no cats were harmed in the chronicling of this post — though one was forcibly evicted from a bathtub and another contributed to the general unraveling of my sanity.

The Night the Gremlins Took Over

A Promising Start

I started the night so well. Fitbit proudly informed me I’d clocked 51 whole minutes of deep sleep — practically a luxury spa retreat by my standards — and I thought, Yes. Tonight is the night. I’m finally going to sleep like a human being instead of a haunted scarecrow.

Naturally, that’s when everything went straight to hell in a handbasket.

The Mysterious 2 A.M. Knock

Around 2 a.m., I was jolted awake by a rhythmic knocking sound. Not a random thump. Not a creak. A pattern. The kind of noise that makes you sit up and think, “Well, that’s not good.”

I still have no idea what it was. It didn’t repeat, didn’t reveal itself, and wasn’t attached to any cat‑related crime scene. Just unexplained knocking and then poof — gone.

At first, I thought it was outside — the windows were open — but then I realized neither cat was in the bedroom. That’s when the “responsible pet parent” alarm went off.

The Innocent Cats (Allegedly)

I got up to check on them, expecting to find at least one of them mid‑shenanigan.

Nope.

Balboa was curled up on the couch looking like a Renaissance painting of a peaceful angel. Banner looked suspiciously innocent, which is how I knew he’d probably just finished a snack he wasn’t supposed to have.

Since I was already up, I figured I’d go to the bathroom and then try to salvage the rest of the night.

The Bathroom Takeover

That’s when the gremlins took over.

Banner marched into the tub like he was claiming new territory and refused to get out. Balboa got up and started following me around like a tiny furry shadow.

I tried sitting in a chair, hoping Banner would get bored of lying in the tub without an audience, but no — he was committed to the bit.

Eventually, I had to turn the water on to evict him. He gave me the betrayed look of a Victorian orphan in a Dickens novel, but he left. I shut the door behind him like I was sealing off a crime scene.

The Failed Return to Sleep

Back to bed I went… or tried to.

By then, I was fully awake, my nose was running, and my brain had rebooted into “middle‑of‑the‑night chaos mode.” I had just settled when Balboa hopped onto the bed.

Normally fine. Except he refused to settle down. He did the whole “walk in circles, flop dramatically, get up again, repeat” routine.

The Longest Night

This continued for the rest of the night — a tag‑team of feline interruptions, sniffles, and the slow unraveling of my sanity.

And the knocking? Still unexplained. I’m choosing to believe it was either a ghost with poor timing or the universe tapping out Morse code for “good luck.”

A Nap Is My Destiny

A nap is absolutely in my future. Possibly my destiny.

P.S.

If you’re curious why cats get the midnight zoomies or suddenly claim the bathtub as sovereign territory, my feed is filled with articles that offer an explanation, Sadly I think most of them are making it up as they go along.

And In case you missed it here’s a a brief retospective of my chaotic life with cats Kitty Shenanigans or Life with 2 Cats