Mondays With Merlin: Purrs of Thanks & A Fishy Blast from the Past

Merlin here and I’m meowing at the top of my lungs with thanks to everyone who left me birthday wishes last week.

Turning 19 is a big deal and my best gift wasn’t toys or treats but time. Yes, the most precious commodity these days is time. Time spend snuggling, petting, playing, talking to and simply being with a cat is catnip for the soul. As you may know, my mom, took a mini-blog break to catch up on other work but she’s also is spending quality time with me. Blog breaks are costly, but she figures she can’t afford not to because let’s face it, I’m not getting any younger. PLUS,

• Odin is recovering from a nasty hot spot on his torso.
• My granny, Layla’s Mom has been in the hospital for the past few weeks. It’s unclear if she will recover sufficiently to live independently.
• Layla will not be able to visit many blogs but will visit those who leave a comment.

So, in order meet writing deadlines and spend kitty time we reached a compromise. Except for our Black Cat Appreciation Wednesday, we’ll be recycling a few of our best posts this week. Did you know we have a over 800 posts and that’s not including the old Cat Saturday posts from Boomer Muse? You can scroll down to our archives and select from a bunch of cool categories. Layla won’t sitting around twiddling her thumbs. She’ll be going to a pet products event this week and organizing some choice giveaways in the coming weeks. She also has a few meowvelous surprises coming soon!

Our blast from the past is written by yours truly and posted at Boomer Muse three year ago. There’s a bonus pic of Odin we’ve never posted. Odinand Gris Gris had just arrived and catapulted me out of the sadness from losing my sis, Angel Coco. I was cranky from a respiratory bug and well, read for yourself…

Merlin here, filling in for my mom Layla, who is at something called a Cat Writers’ Association conference, plus a cat show. Her life is all about cats now.

That’s a worthy occupation in my book, as long as she doesn’t bring any more cats home. The two foster kitties are more than enough. I caught a bad bug and not the edible kind. Finally after two weeks, two vet house calls and two kinds of antibiotics, oodles of love and energy healing, baby I’m baaack looking fine, if I do say so myself. My loud voice box still sounds like a three pack-a-day smoker’s, but kinda sexy, ya know what I’m sayin’?
So NEWS & MEWS…enough about me. The young whippersnapper Odin is too hyper for an old dude like me. I don’t mind him snuggling with me sometimes but other times I spray him with mega-hissing to stay away. I don’t understand why everyone thinks he’s so cute! He’s gets into everything. I was never like that when I was a kitten.

Look at him trying to explore the bath. Is that cute? I say stupid. When I was a young whippersnapper, I fell into the bath. Never again. Let him learn the hard way, ha ha ha. You know how stupid he is? He’s letting Layla leash train like a DOG, and he likes it!

He’s stretching like a rubber band. I guess you’d call it a growth spurt. Layla plugged into the wall something called Feliway which is supposed to mellow us out so we’re all simpatico. I’d say it’s working because we’re all becoming a happy new family. I’m just glad to sniffing in the garden again before winter freezes my ball sacs off. Speaking of balls, all has been cool with my feral pal, the big bruiser Domino, but a couple nights ago fur flew when he chased a big monster black cat off the porch. Is his arch rival Rambo back in town? He’d better not mess with the big D. Don’t you think he’d make a good NFL linebacker? It’s good to know he has my back.

It looks like Gris Gris, the gray foster and one-toothed wonder will be a permanent house guest. Unlike most guests, he doesn’t smell fishy after three days. In fact, don’t mind if he does smell fishy. He’s quiet, respectful and Garbo-like when it comes to being photographed. He’s trying hard to suck up to me and I like that. His fur is getting almost as sleek as mine, and the way he trots around, I wonder if he was a greyhound in another life. Both new guys are spending time in their cat room but gradually exploring the rest of the house.

“Mr. DeMille, I’m so not ready for my close-up,” says the shadowy Gris Gris.

This writing business is exhausting, must run… I have a rendez-vous under a duvet. Layla will be back next week with lots of new kitty pix and who knows what else.