Sir Edmund Hillary, or just Hillary for short, is one of my cats. He and his brother Pickles were litter mates that we rescued.
They are both long haired cats that suffer from extreme matting. Fortunately they are both tolerant and long suffering, allowing me to both trim their nails and shave their mats. I used to take them to the vet for this, but the vet wanted $300 apiece to anesthetize them and shave them. Since I have been underemployed since 2016, the task has fallen to me.
Earlier this week I couldn’t stand it any longer and decided that Hillary had to be trimmed. His mats had to be making him miserable.
Mission accomplished – I had him mostly trimmed – with the worst of the mats removed. Then yesterday I noticed it. I must have “zigged” when I should have “zagged” while trimming his neck.
I trimmed off one side of his whiskers. Oh the humanity! Or is that catity?
Hillary is VERY forgiving … and lying in my lap as I type this.
Pickles got up and left. Hillary took over. Shift change.
Hillary left | Patches right
Sir Edmund Hillary
As Pickles looks on …
Having adorable cats makes blogging so very easy ..,
Got up in the middle of the night and disturbed the boys …
Nuthin’ to see here. Move along …
We said move along
For background context on this story, you are encouraged to read: Phobos Rising, Jumper, and Rocket Man.
Copyright © 2014 by Christian Bergman, All rights reserved.
All people, places, and events are fictional … except when they aren’t.
Cats on Mars – a short story
Aurorae Chaos, or Aurora for short, jumped up on large low hard flat surface and then up to top level of tall structure with many thin flat surfaces. Low Martian gravity made it easy to reach high perch in two easy leaps. She scanned domain for brother, Olympus Mons, but nowhere to be seen.
Olympus Mons, or Ollie, was in what people called ‘bedrum’, attacking one of things that cover people’s rear paws. He hadn’t killed it in while and it needed killing. He chewed and eviscerated it with rear claws. When convinced it killed enough, he got up to find sister.
Aurora just about settled in for afternoon nap when saw Ollie walking cluelessly into big area. From high perch watched him come around corner and prance toward her. She wiggled hips in excitement as prepared to pounce. Wiggle. Wiggle. Ollie wandered closer, not suspecting anything. Wiggle. Wiggle. Wiggle. Wiggle. In instant Aurora airborne, sailing through low Martian gravity like fury ballistic missile. Landed on top of Ollie and battle royale was on. They rolled around on floor biting and eviscerating each other with rear claws. Went on for few minutes until exhausted, relaxed and began grooming each other. After several long minutes mutual grooming, Ollie got up to check kibble bowl. Aurora thought follow Ollie in case he discovered something she needed investigate.
Continue reading Cats on Mars
Sir Edmund Hillary hanging out with me on a Saturday evening …
Continue reading Grooming
In addition to an overabundance of cuteness, Hillary has a number of bizarre behavioral habits. This may be due to insecurity at having been orphaned at such a young age (see Cat Tales – Pickles and Hillary).
Hillary ‘nurses’. We have many ‘blankys’ around the house that Mrs and I use in bed or on the recliner sofa. One blanky in particular, a snowflake pattern blanky must remind Hillary of his mommy because he will frequently nurse on it. We call it Hillary’s blanky.
Hillary was comfortable. Pickles agreed.
Where did the water bottles go?
Apologies for those waiting for the next day of the Day 42 series. The Mrs spent another week in the hospital. “Winter” has arrived here, with temperatures in the 40s and rain and gloom. She got out Friday.
I have mostly been reading and spent yesterday (Sunday) sleeping.
I’ll leave you with some recent cat photos. They need no explanation.
Food? Did someone say food?
Patches and Hillary
Heavy duty purring by the big bruiser …
(I’m not a big bruiser, Daddy, I’m just a big boy)
First the good news:
I am making significant progress on Day 46. I think that you will like what I have written.
I finally watched the latest StarTrek movie on pay per view.
I just bought and downloaded the unrated cut of World War Z from iTunes. (Now I can find out how many of my ideas they stole 🙂 )
Hillary is sleeping happily across my chest as I write this.
Now the bad news:
So … Yesterday was my friend’s 42nd birthday and I bought him dinner, then we came back and watched StarTrek (see above). Anyway … we are happily sitting on the reclining sofa watching StarTrek not six feet from the 50 something inch TV that number one son gave the Mrs several years ago.
Hillary is happily sleeping across my chest. Patches is sleeping on my right thigh.
Pickles jumps up on my lap, then jumps up on to the back of the sofa and promptly falls off over the back. This scares him and he bolts out of the TV room. This scares Hillary who bolts off of lap. This scares Patches who bolts off my thigh by way of my right arm grooving two deep bloody trenches into my forearm and in the process clears the end table to my right of all it contents.
I pause the movie and get up to see if the cats are OK. As I leave the TV room, I go to step up onto the tiled entryway and my right leg goes “zip” forward (I am wearing socks on smooth tile) as my left leg remains firmly planted. What ensues is a less than perfect high school-cheerleader style spit. At 60 years old, overweight and out of shape, my body does not bend that way. I collapse to my right side, blood dripping off of my right arm. “Ow ow ow ow ow” and proceed to laugh hysterically, even though I hurt like hell. It is times like this that I think that I must be the star of some metabeing’s slapstick situation comedy. I get a wash cloth to wash the blood off of my arm and come back to finish the movie. An hour later after the movie is finished, I can barely walk. I limp to bed and the Mrs gives me some of her muscle relaxants, pain killers, and anti-inflammatories. By morning I can kinda sorta walk but slowly and in great pain so I send an email taking day off, repeat the meds and crawl back into bed. At 8:00 PM I still hurt, but not so bad.
[Author’s note: To start at the beginning of Day 42 go >> HERE << ]