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The Storeh of the Kitteh

November 04, 2009

Well, first and foremost...wow. Just holy shit, wow, whoa, and other assorted expressions of surprise, because...seriously, wow, y'all. I am completely overwhelmed by how many people stuck around, and the incredibly nice, awesome, wonderful remarks everyone left in over 550 comments. I've read all of them. It's absolutely humbling, and I cannot tell you how much I appreciate it. Thank you all, so very much, for being so supportive and understanding (and hilarious, as usual). For those of you who are in a sad place, I hope you find your happiness soon; for those who've made it through, I'm glad you're on the other side. And for everyone, I hope I can keep entertaining y'all, and thank you again for making me feel so welcomed. It's made me so glad I've come back. Kisses to each and every one of you.

But, I don't want to get all maudlin and weepy ("Oh, you guuuuys! I seriously loooove yoooou"), so putting the seriousness aside: oh my goodness, hello! So, y'all, there are a million things to tell you about, and I've been stuck trying to figure out where to begin. In the last year, Brian and I moved in together. We redid the entire house using methods involving "actual construction" and "contractors" and "the shedding of Leigh's tears." We had our first Christmas together, we went to Nassau for New Year's with Cookie and Spam, and we've gone through an entire bottle of Tabasco sauce (which, according to my mother, is the benchmark for establishing when you are Officially Stuck With Each Other As A Couple). We've had a really, really happy year together, and we've done this whole shit-ton of stuff. So, I've been trying to figure out the best way of unjumbling it (now a word) and presenting everything to y'all in some kind of cohesive narrative. But, you know, that sounds...Challenging. And boring, kind of, in the manner of a travel log, or forcing someone to look at the slides of your vacation pictures. So I am just going to...not do that, and instead, I am going to jump right in with a new Storeh. And, because I continue to be the Queen of Tangents, I figure, hell. I'll probably get around to covering everything at some point eventually. Even the thing with the bra! I definitely need to tell y'all about the thing with the bra.

(Heeee, bra thing.)

And finally, I have to give an enormous, whole-wide-world-sized thank you to Cobwebs, who has been working nonstop on fixing this website. She's deleted spam, fixed the About Me page, and basically done a lifetime's worth of magical code-related things. She's also helping me (read: doing everything that involves any degree of intelligence) on a site redesign, so y'all can even expect an updated look here, too. (Uh, eventually. If I can ever make decisions.) But, seriously, really, a massive thank you to this wonderful lady -- she got in touch with me a few months ago, and without her encouragement and help, I probably wouldn't be back at all. That is how instrumental she has been in making this whole thing work. She rules.

Aaaaand so, to switch shit up again, and thus having concluded my usual many paragraphs of opening things up and getting myself all established, please allow me to tell you the Storeh of the Kitteh. Because, as I mentioned, we seem to have a Kitteh. And she does not seem to be leaving. Settle in for the longest entry in the world.

So, it all started about...oh, maybe six weeks ago, when I was heading home from the office one night. We have a parking garage in the bottom floor of the building. And it is not a nice garage. It is a dark, smelly, terrifying Rape Garage, which is sealed by means of a dark, smelly, terrifying Rape Gate. And as I was pulling through this gate that particular evening, I saw something tiny and black darting between the posts, running out of the garage and stopping underneath one of the dark, smelly, terrifying Rape Dumpsters sitting outside.

I thought it was a rat. A dark, smelly, terrifying Rape Rat, and I let out a little squeal of EEEE RAPE RAT, because that is apparently an ingrained evolutionary thing that I cannot help, no offense, rats. But then the little black tininess moved, and I looked closer, and I realized that: ohhhhh. That is not a Rape Rat. That is a kitten. A little black and white kitten, curled up under a Rape Dumpster, and scared entirely to death.

Now, with random terrified lost dogs, I kind of have a protocol, in which I open the car door, produce a dog treat (which, yes, I do carry in my car, what of it), and ask them nicely if they would be interested in taking a ride to hopefully a place which is their actual home, and which preferably does not involve busy intersections. I have done this so many times that my parents called me last winter, twice, to remind me that there were coyotes spotted in the area, and JESUS CHRIST, LEIGH, WE KNOW YOU'RE GOING TO TRY AND PUT A DAMN COYOTE IN YOUR CAR. (Sidenote: While I have never come across a coyote, I did have a close encounter with a fox last year. Fox was FINE with getting into my car, in fact thought this to be an EXCELLENT idea, and CHEERIO, THANKS FOR THE RIDE, and was well on his way to the passenger door when it dawned on me that he was not, in fact, an overgrown chihuahua.)(Sidenote again: LISTEN IT WAS DARK.)

But, anyway. Point being, I kind of know what to do (or what I do, anyway) when it's a lost and help-needing dog, but now I was staring at this kitten and just drawing a blank. Because kittens don't so much come when called, first of all, and also, I do not understand them one bit. They are perplexing, and finally, they don't seem to respond to dog treats. So, after a few, "Heeeere, kitty kitty kitty,"-es (as seen on TV), I just kind of looked sadly at the cat, rolled up my window, and drove on home. But, I probably should have known that this would not be the end of that.

Because, see. Here's the thing. Ever since Brian and I first started dating, I have known how much he loves cats. He loves dogs, too, and he's just crazy about Bo and Gimmme, and is the best puppy babydaddy ever and etc., but Brian just...likes cats. He thinks they are soft, and hilarious, and insane, and more fun than basic cable. I have never really understood this, and so I'd vetoed the idea wholly, in conversations in which the words "litter box," "pungent," and "gag reflex" were uttered. And he was fine with it, but a small, bitsy part of me knew that if it were his call, we'd already have some evil creature with a ludicrous name like Lady Kittenboots McCatbottom running the fuck around. And I was the only thing standing in the way of Lady Kittenboots McCatbottom. And that made me feel bad, because Brian is awesome, and wonderful, and he just tries so damn hard to make everyone else happy. He's too good a man not to have whatever the hell he wants, and so I'd kind of resolved to keep an open mind about the cat situation, and maybe things would just work themselves out. Maybe they'd even work themselves out underneath a Rape Dumpster. WHO KNOWS.

But, so, such thoughts were already lurking in the back of my mind when I saw the kitten that night, but seeing as I didn't know how to get her, I figured that she'd just run off and never be seen again. But by the next week, it was clear that she hadn't just disappeared into the night. Instead, everyone at the office was reporting kitten sightings. People had seen her darting around, hiding under cars, eating from the dumpster, etc. She wouldn't come for anyone when they called her, and she'd run if you approached her, even if you only approached her in your mind, but she kept on popping up and darting about and basically making her presence known. And of course, she was adorable, and we all talked very loftily about how we would soon catch her and she would be shipped to a fancy cat preserve somewhere, possibly in Africa, so that she could roam free and eat wild Whiskas all day long. But nobody really did anything, except worry in a kind of vague way, because she wouldn't let anyone close enough, and hey, what are you gonna do.

Uuuuntil. One day, I went downstairs to get something from my car, and ran into one of the (very buff and large) building maintenance guys, who for purposes of this story, will be known as Mr. Bicep. And Mr. Bicep was just standing there, talking on his cell phone, while the Dumpster Kitteh sat squarely on top of Mr. Bicep's feet, swatting at his shoelaces. And my response was threefold, and exactly as follows:

2. Well, that is officially cute.
3. Aw, FUCK.

(Note: All of these responses proved to be accurate and correct. That is some foreshadowing for you.) Mr. Bicep got off the phone, and laughed when he saw me staring at him. "KITTEH!" I said. "I made a friend," he said. "Someone is going to end up taking that kitten home," I said. "I think we all know who that will be," he said.


But, even though Kitteh loved Mr. Bicep (as do...well, all the other women in the building -- Kitteh ain't blind), when I tried to get closer, she ran off in a huff again. I would possibly even call it a flounce. She flounced off, and would have nothing to do with me whatsoever, so I thought, well, maybe we will NOT end up with a dumpster kitten after all, and the balance of the universe will remain undisturbed.

Buuut that, too, was short-lived. The next kitten situation occurred about a week later. Brian was out of town for, like, two weeks straight on business, and after work one night, Cookie and I had a cocktail (or...twoish) at the bar in our building, and started talking about Kitteh. Of course, Cookie has known Brian since, like, high school or something, so she knows how he feels about cats, and how he's wanted one forever. And then there's the fact that Cookie and Spam have two cats, whom they adore, and whom Spam named as their children in his high school reunion bulletin. So, it was not completely surprising to me when Cookie started talking about how awww, poor kitteh, who is probably going to die, in a horrible way, when meanwhile all Brian has ever wanted in the world is a kitteh and very probably that precise kitteh, and HELL IS WATCHING YOU, LEIGH (note: Cookie is Catholic), but maybe this is your chance at REDEMPTION and also to win awards made out of diamonds and ponies for BEST GIRLFRIEND EVER, PUT DOWN YOUR WINE AND GO GET THAT KITTEN RIGHT NOW.

That is what she said. I missed Brian anyway, and yes, here is this kitten who needs help and is just free for the taking. And I thought, maybe this crazy cat person is onto something. Maybe this is fate in the Rape Garage! And you don't scoff at fate, baby. Nor do you flounce.

But even with all of Cookie's admonitions, there was still no getting this particular cat, because recall: she apparently hated me, with flouncing. So even though this was all good in theory, in real-life-land, I didn't see how it was going to work out. But, I did have one tenuous, wine-inspired idea, and so: I gave my business card to the building security, and told them that if someone did manage to catch the cat, to give me a call, and I'd make sure she got to a vet. No commitment, no chasing a wild creature under cars, but if you're giving me a prepackaged kitten, well, possibly that is something I can work with.

Now, turns out, that particular whim sealed a lifetime deal. By the following Monday, word had gotten out that there was a taker for the cat, a TAKER for the CAT, HALLELUJAH. And by "word had gotten out," evidently I mean that somehow this information spread throughout a 26-story building, over a weekend, and suddenly everyone in Atlanta turned Cat Catcher, trying to round up the kitten on my behalf. I, however, was blissfully unaware of any of this. I, in point of fact, was conducting witness prep over the phone all day, and had no idea that an all-out cathunt was simultaneously underway, with the goal being to present me with a kitten in a box. And yet, I, eventually, did find this out.

So, Monday, early afternoon, I was on a law-related phone call I couldn't interrupt, when someone started knocking on my door. Which...I mean, can't do anything, on the phone here, client/law happenings underway, scram. Eventually my assistant must have intervened, because the knocking stopped; that, however, is when my call waiting started beeping. Incessantly. And again: ON THE PHONE. LAW. WTF.

When I failed to respond, the next tactic was email, and I received an official flurry of them. Which I had to read quickly, because perhaps I mentioned my overwhelming ON THE PHONENESS and thus am kind of supposed to be paying attention to this witness, you know. But a quick skim of my inbox revealed a secret-agent-like message along the lines of:

Dear Leigh:

Hello. Cat is in a box. Box is under bench in the north corner of garage, in an impenetrable cage made of molten steel and locked with human teeth. Animal control has been called, as has the army and NASA. You have six minutes to disarm a bomb, fashion a rope from scotch tape, and rescue the kitten from a certain heinous death that will be squarely on your head.

P.S. The clock is starting at four minutes ago.

Now. I am maybe exaggerating mildly here, but the gist was that the cat was waiting in a box for me, somewhere in the parking garage. But I had to leave and get her that second, because the building had already called Animal Control, who would be here any minute. And, this was not exactly how I'd envisioned things going down.

I'd been thinking more along the lines of, okay, I get a phone call saying hello, cat is in a box, pick up box when you have a chance, thanks for Samaritan-ing, have a good day. I was not so much anticipating the fucking RACE AGAINST TIME with cat's DEATH ON THE LINE drama which was suddenly unfolding all around me. And there was absolutely zero I could do about any of it, because I really couldn't stop a poor witness in the middle of her tearful testimony by being all, "Uh, yeah, can you hold on while I go save a cat and then, I don't know, BRING A BOXED FERAL KITTEN back up to my OFFICE, where I am sure the feral kitten will be TOTALLY SILENT and well-behaved and JUST FINE while I finish up the many remaining hours my working day? THANKS."

And it made me feel like shit, because people had tried to catch this kitten on the basis of my promise to do something about it, and now I couldn't help. I mean, I tried sending emails saying, you know...think you could hold off on that Animal Control part?, etc., but for whatever reason, that wasn't an option for the building management. So I basically sat there all afternoon, STILL on the phone, feeling horrible and guilty for being responsible for this whole enormous mess.

So, shitty day. And Brian was still out of town, and with the addition of the remaining nonstop working/cat blood on head, etc., I was in a Mood, and so Cookie again kindly offered to take me downstairs for a cheer-up-Leigh session, with medicinal wine. She reassured me that there really wasn't anything I could have done, and who the fuck called Animal Control anyway, and who died and made them the issuer of weird cat ultimatums? And while that did make me feel better, I was still feeling pretty bad, regardless. And I continued to feel bad until we walked downstairs, opened the door to the Rape Garage, and found ourselves staring directly at: the Kitteh. Hello.

Turns out, someone had decided to intervene with the Decree of the Building Management Animal Control Calling People, and had...opened Kitteh's box. And it turns out, that person was Mr. Bicep, who had opened the lid and screamed, "RUN FOR YOUR LIFE" at the kitten. And the kitten took that advice, and got the hell out of dodge. Nicely played, Mr. Bicep.

But, we didn't know that at the time; all we knew was that OMG KITTEH ISN'T IN JAIL, and also is kind of...dude, she's actually kind of close to us, and not acting scared, and holy shit, maybe we can...get her? I don't know! What do we do? AHH, and these were the conversations that Cookie and I had, because now the entire cat situation had been elevated to an Official Crisis, and Animal Control may be right around ANY CORNER, AHH GRAB THE CAT AND GET THE EVERFUCK OUT OF HERE NOW.

Kitteh ran under Cookie's car and stared at us. Cookie got down on all fours and made some...I don't know, fucking clicking mouth sounds that cat people make, and which are apparently very effective, because out Kitteh came, just as casual as can be. And Cookie picked her up, and handed her to me, and -- in the smartest move this animal has ever made in her entire little dumpster-diving life -- she curled up in my arms, put her tiny head against my chest, and began to purr.

"Oh my God," said Cookie. "FUCK," said I.

But, we had no cat carrier. We had nothing even resembling a cat carrier, so we just...put Kitteh in the back seat of my car, and stared suspiciously at her through the window. And there she sat, all peaceful and adorable, until the moment that I, too, got into the car, and started the ignition. Which is the point at which Helpless Purring Baby Thing transformed herself into Shrieking Demon Hellcat of Rage, bansheeing her tiny body all over the car, and suddenly I was driving like a maniac down Georgia 400 with a DEEPLY unhappy free-range kitteh threatening to pounce on my head, and howling like I was in the process of SKINNING HER ALIVE.

It was at this point, as I cowered in anticipation of a pointy attack from behind, listening to the shrieks of an animal I was supposedly rescuing, that I started...sort of rethinking the situation. But, you know, it was kind of late for that, given that there was now a feral kitten in my Lexus, but Note To Self, that in the future, I KIND OF NEED TO THINK THESE THINGS THROUGH BEFORE SHOVING CREATURES INTO THE CAR. Having achieved this spontaneous clarity, I realized that the items on my "Should Have Considered" List included, but were not limited to:

1. How I was going to get her out of the car;
2. What in the FUCK the dogs would think of all of this;
3. What in the fuck my FAMILY would think of all of this;
4. What one feeds a cat, which is very certainly going to be something I do not have;
5. The now-noticeable smell of dumpster permeating from the backseat; and

By the time the two of us got home, we were pretty much equally hysterical, but only one of us was making an unholy racket. I grabbed kitteh by whatever I could get hold of (tail? Pelvis?), and wrestled her little furious, shrieking, POINTY OW POINTY self inside the house, and upstairs to the empty guest room. And then I released her, she bolted, and I closed the door, and I also bolted, only in the opposite direction. In the direction of safety. Where there are no kitties whatsoever.

First order of business was shopping, and because this story is already fifteen miles long, I will shorten things up a bit by just sharing the email exchange between Cookie and myself that evening, as my credit cards and I spent some quality time at the grocery store:

----- Original Message -----
From: Miss Doxie
To: Cookie
Sent: Mon Sep 28 20:31:04 2009
Subject: HELP ME

Dumpster kitteh is in the guest room and I'm out shopping for EVERYTHING. Where can I buy a litterbox? Can I fashion one out of something else? How do they even work?


Incidentally, kitteh had a CONNIPTION in the car. Then again in the guest room.

Kitteh is moodeh.

----- Original Message -----
From: Cookie
To: Miss Doxie
Sent: Mon Sep 28 20:35:56 2009
Subject: Re: HELP ME

Aw, kitteh! You can make a litter box out of anything! Just put some litter in a box. Kitty will figure it out quickly.

You have good karma for 5 lifetimes!

----- Original Message -----
From: Miss Doxie
To: Cookie
Sent: Mon Sep 28 20:40:31 2009
Subject: Re: HELP ME

Found box. What kind of litter?! Clumping? WTF CAT WORDS.

----- Original Message -----
From: Cookie
To: Miss Doxie
Sent: Mon Sep 28 20:41:27 2009
Subject: Re: HELP ME

Definitely clumping!! And if you want to calm her down, get some cat nip. It's like pot for cats.

----- Original Message -----
From: Miss Doxie
To: Cookie
Sent: Mon Sep 28 20:45:29 2009
Subject: Re: HELP ME

Buying all the catnip in zipcode


After this little exchange, communications went dark as I paid for my items; returned home; gave a certain feral cat a bath using cat shampoo (yes), vodka, and a rosary; dressed my puncture wounds; fashioned myself a tourniquet; took a Xanax; and tossed the fucking cat back in her guest room, where she immediately ran behind a chair and hissed at me. Then I went downstairs and watched Project Runway with a bottle of wine and two INCREDIBLY confused dogs, whose crackerjack senses had determined that MOM SMELLS LIKE A FOOD, and I basically just tried to ignore eeeeverythying that was going on upstairs.

This did not work, however, as subsequent communications show:

----- Original Message -----
From: Miss Doxie
To: Cookie
Sent: Tues Sep 29 1:36:32 2009
Subject: Yeah

Out buying flea killer at 1:30 in the morning.

P.S.: What happens if I eat the catnip? Or should I smoke it?


Followed by:

----- Original Message -----
From: Miss Doxie
To: Cookie
Sent: Tues Sep 29 2:14:55 2009
Subject: Kitteh...

Wants to come live at YOUR house.


And so it was, for the first day or two of Kitteh's life here. I made appointments for her shots and tests and spaying and all that business, and I refilled her food and changed her litter (EW) and went in and visited her every little while. And, she responded by hissing at me while standing amid her hundreds of dollars worth of newly-purchased cat supplies, all of which she HATED, she HATED THEM, and she hated my bourgeois bullshit attitude that assumed she'd be happier in suburbia as opposed to a dumpster. So, for the most part, it was kind of like being the parent of a teenager.

Meanwhile, Brian was still out of town, and was halfway around the world, but I was updating him on the Kitteh Situation. And I tried to convey that, hey. Dude, this is a Guest Kitteh. She's Visa Kitteh on a temporary pass, we are NOT getting attached until we at least find out that she's healthy and not going to give, like Rape Dumpster virus to the dogs, and even THEN I am not so sure about this, and also did I mention the HISSING and the LITTER BOX and just don't get your hopes up.

But, you know. Kitteh actually started to come around pretty quickly. After a few days, she started meandering up to me when I came in the room. She'd jump on my lap when I sat down. And suddenly, our dialogue went from "AHH FOOD HERE IS YOUR FOOD AHH PLEASE DON'T GET POINTY" to, "Oh, you're...hi... WHOA, YES, HELLO, THAT IS MY LEG. Am I supposed...you want lap? Wait, what? Rub you now? NOW? NO NOT THAT WAY, RUB YOU THIS WAY? Okay, I...oh, bye." And then she'd wander off again, and instead of parenting a teenager, it was more like dating an asshole.

But the icing on the proverbial litter box cake came when Brian came home, wisely decided to come kiss me before going to see the kitten (good choice), and met Guest Kitteh for the first time. And of course, Lady Bullshit McLiarboots just climbed right up on his lap, gazed up at him with these big sweet eyes, and purred. And I said: fuck. Now we have a cat.

Soooo, that was...the beginning of October, I suppose. And Kitteh has come very far since that time. She's decided that she likes us. Specifically, she's decided that she likes hunting us, and so she spends most of her time hiding behind doors, under beds, etc., before suddenly flinging her entire body -- pointy side first -- at our passing legs. She does this with full commitment, with all four legs spread apart so that she looks exactly, precisely like a flying squirrel. If flying squirrels came in a genus of "enormous, toothy, and fucking insane," she'd get confused for them all the time. As it is, whenever Brian or I go upstairs (she mainly stays up there), whoever is left downstairs can always hear a faraway, tiny "AHH" in response to her ambush, and we don't even bother with the, "Uh, you okay up there?" anymore. Because the answer is obviously no, and by now, we all know where we keep the Bactine. She's the same at nighttime, when she climbs up on our bed and, after the requisite strokes and petting, she suddenly switches modes to Mighty Hunter Of Whatever Is Moving Under The Sheets. And so we bleed some more. Yeah, cat people -- this is awesome.

During the day, she mostly keeps to herself; she and the dogs have met a few times, but there have been wildly different reactions, ranging from "our own personal Woodstock of love and peace, right here on the sofa" to "fishing hysterical kitteh out from behind the dryer after she was cornered by Bo for his eating needs." As a result, for the most part, everyone just sort of ignores everyone else, for now. Bo and Gimmme have always stayed downstairs anyway, because of Gimmme's pesky habit of "being blind" and what happens when that gets mixed with the existence of a staircase. (It goes like: THUD THUD THUD). Meanwhile, the kitty's litter box (EW) is upstairs, with her bed and food and toys, and so she just hangs out up there and waits for fresh prey. So, we've reached this weird equilibrium at the moment, with an upstairs kitty and downstairs dogs, but we figure she's going to start coming down more often as time goes on. And the dogs'll get more used to her, and then maybe they will realize that kitty is not a food. And kitty is pointy. I bet they learn both of those lessons at the same time.

Kitty has also come leaps and bounds with all those toys she hated so much. Before, we would dangle little mice in front of her, bat at her with the cat-batting-feather...thing, and squeak the squeaky rat in her direction. And she'd just stare at us, like, "...seriously?" and then wander off because we were so uncool, it actually made her physically uncomfortable.

All that changed about two weeks ago. Specifically, two weeks ago, at 4 in the morning, when we heard this:

squeak. squuuuuuuueak. squeaksqueak. squeaksqueaksqueak.




And this sound meant that kitty had suddenly discovered the wondrous, immeasurable joy of batting squeaky rat up and down the hallway, from her room to ours, over and over again, until We. All. Die. Because, squeaky rat is her favorite thing in the world, and she loves squeaky rat more than aaaanything, because squeaky rat is her BFF, and if you put squeaky rat on top of the credenza because it's 3:30 in the morning and you have an 8:00 a.m. meeting the next day, and please, PLEASE, just forget about squeaky rat for THREE HOURS, CAT, I BEG OF YOU: well. She will not. She will sit next to the credenza and wail in abject sorrow, all, "SQUEAAAAAKY RAT! R U UP THERE? COME DOWN! I LUF U AN U R MY ONLY FRIEND INNNA WUUUURLD" until one of us feels so bad about her grief that we go and get squeaky rat down and throw the fucking thing in the direction of somewhere else, and run back to bed and try to fall asleep before the reunion. At which point:


Siiiigh. Oh, and the other thing she does! We only found out about this the other night, when we woke up to this noise:

splish splish splish splish splish

And then suddenly, a cat with extremely wet feet jumped on the bed, and after analysis, it was determined that: the cat is...playing in the toilet. Kitteh looooooves playing in the toilet. She stands up on her little back tippie-toes and leans over the bowl, and then just bats at the water with her front paws. Splish splish splish. We don't...know why, and she's got a little paw-cleaning mat and everything in her room, but cat is just fascinated by the toilet. Which is extra-odd, considering the first night she was here, I tried to give her a bath, and she literally FAINTED in horror. Like, the poor creature went totally limp in the towel after I took her out of the tub, and I had this horrifying moment in which I thought I had killed the cat by bathing it, and holy shit, that's why cats are so scared of water, because evidently it makes them DIE. But she regained her senses after being rubbed on for a minute, so I guess water just stuns cats, but regardless: WTF with the toilet? Kitteh is fucking insane.

But, for all the insanity, and racket, and bloodshed...awwww, y'all. Brian is just the happiest guy ever. He looooves the kitty, he pets the kitty, and plays with the kitty, and resultingly has perpetual scratches all over his arms but he does not even mind because AW, KITTEH. According to Brian, our kitty is the softest kitty ever ("Like a bunny!" he marvels), the sweetest kitty ever (...?), the smartest kitty ever, the funniest kitty ever...basically, the Bestest Cat That Ever Catted, and indeed, I have been repeatedly informed that I am the most awesome, most favorite, most prettiest Bestest Girlfriend That Ever Girlfriendend, and he's just as happy as a clam. And so I'm glad I kept an open mind, I'm glad that I threw a feral animal in my car, and I'm glad that this time, AND THIS TIME ONLY, I didn't think this thing through.

And, well. She is pretty fucking hilarious.

efill kitteh.jpg

Thank y'all again for your love and wonderfulness, and I promise to be back soon with stories of debauchery, drinking, and dogs (and have you SEEN what we did to the house for the Halloween party? I KNOW!). But, as much as things change, they do stay the same, and this ain't Miss Kitteh. More doxies soon, and in the meantime, kisses to you all. And thank you, so much, again.

* * *

WHOA UPDATE: So, I wrote this entry last week and have been editing it, but I felt I should add a P.S to let you know that as of last night, kitteh has a name! See, I'd been calling her "Momma's little horseman of the apocalypse" and Brian was calling her "Lil' Baby Satan" and similar monikers, and then in a burst of inspired genius, I remembered: the Smurfs. And, y'all! Surely you remember the Smurfs, and probably you remember Azrael, the evil Smurf-eating cat that Gargamel had? But what probably you did not do was one day Google 'Azrael' because it sounded vaguely familiar and...you know, it was, like, Tuesday afternoon and you were bored and this was about three years ago and frankly I don't remember what led to that particular Googling, but point being: did you know that Azrael is also the name for the Angel of Death? So...evil cat, and angel of death. Hmmmmm.

I know! Are you having deja vu yet? This...remind you of anyone? If not, allow me to point out that, being that Kitteh's full name will now be Azrael Kitteh, that makes her nickname AK, and that, my friends, is a weapon involving bullets.

So, let's review. Azrael Kitteh:

1. Name of murder cat;
2. Name of angel of death;
3. Gun.

It was so perfect, we wept together and had stationery printed. Because, hello, beautiful accuracy. Although we will probably keep calling her Kitteh, which I quite like because it lends itself to saying things like "Kitteh is angreh," and "Kitteh is hungreh," or "Kitteh is part of the vast right-wing conspiraceh." Whatever, though. Baby's formal now.

But, regardless of we call her, Azrael Kitteh has gone from guest kitty to perma-cat. And she makes Brian happeh. And that's good enough for meh.

Posted by doxie in | permalink


Holy long post Miss Doxie! You're making up for lost time. Glad you're back. And welcome to the family Azrael Kitteh.

Posted by: The Only Girl | November 8, 2009 09:42 PM

I have always been of the firm opinion that all people need at least one kitteh! I think that eventually, you will receive less scratches & puncture wounds, and more lap cuddles!

Posted by: Amy | November 8, 2009 09:54 PM

I currently have tears STREAMING down my face from laughing about kitteh. and I kinda want one now.

Posted by: moonablaze | November 8, 2009 10:00 PM

bring on the dox!!

so glad you're back!

Posted by: pairodachs | November 8, 2009 10:07 PM

Oh goodness, as a doxie person myself, I laughed so hard I choked as I read this, and then I reread to make sure you actually have a kitteh. And the RACE AGAINST TIME. Oh lord still choking.

And, um, welcome Azrael Kitteh! Pleasure to have you here.

Now for some gratuitous Bo porn, please? Antidote to all the kitteh.

Posted by: Maria | November 8, 2009 10:27 PM

It was pure delight to read the first edition of the kitteh chronicle. You have a very fortunate purr monster!

Just a tip....if you ever HAVE to give kitty a bath again....you might want to try wearing a flack jacket, hockey helmet and falconer's gloves :)

Posted by: Barb | November 8, 2009 10:36 PM

You are SO freakin' awesome, Leigh! More, please! :)

Posted by: aphrodite | November 8, 2009 10:51 PM

Hi there! I am new reader, but already enjoying. If I was not so moody and hormonal and weepy right now, that would have made me laugh. Good luck with AK!

Posted by: Nichole D. | November 8, 2009 10:56 PM

Wait a second, if memory serves me well I, and only I, have gone through about 5 bottles of Tabasco sauce in just the last 6 months.

Huh. So...I guess I'm happy to announce that I'm in a really good relationship with myself.

Posted by: Mafalda | November 8, 2009 11:02 PM

Add me to the list of people weeping with laughter. SO glad you're back!

Posted by: Lori | November 8, 2009 11:07 PM

Heavens, but I have missed you. Great storeh. Lucky Kitteh.

Posted by: Ruth | November 8, 2009 11:12 PM


And Leigh, Bra Thing, pretty please!

Posted by: aphrodite | November 8, 2009 11:23 PM

Ah, yes, the accidental, and not entirely voluntary, ghetto cat retrieval that ends with cat trapped in room and hissing. Been there. And I AM most definitely fond of cats. So. BRA-fucking-VO!!!

Tips: They all love water, let a little drip into the shower and they will love you for life. Close the toilet. You can clip the tips of their sharp claws to reduce future scarring, but after they get fixed, they get a lot lazier, so hang in there! :)

Way to make it up to us, Leigh! ;)

Posted by: Minda | November 8, 2009 11:26 PM

Yay for Kitteh!

We were adopted by a dumpster kitteh about 2 years ago. He is now fat as 10 dumpster kittehs and lies around the house all day waiting for Solo and the Wookie. I love my Jabba teh Kitteh!

Great post. Nice to have you back.

Posted by: Cheridan | November 8, 2009 11:34 PM

sigh. have missed you and your funneh-ness. a lot. thank YOU for coming back.

Posted by: raeleighjo/bigskygirl | November 8, 2009 11:41 PM


Posted by: justJENN | November 8, 2009 11:48 PM

Welcome to the wonderfulhorribledelightfulstabbehoftentimesstinkehmosttimescuddleh world of being owned by a kitteh.

So glad you're back.

Posted by: Margaret | November 8, 2009 11:59 PM

LUV THE KITTEHS! We have two brothers we adopted thru Friends of Homeless Animals, and it's been 6 wonderful years. And yes, they are insane, but more fun than any 5 people I know. Congrats! Bo and Gimmee, stay strong!

Posted by: Charity | November 9, 2009 12:07 AM

I was also crying with laughter - was slightly embarassing considering I am at work.

I love the Kitteh, so much. So glad you're back!

Posted by: Anna | November 9, 2009 12:18 AM

Love the name; did you know the original (French) name for smurfs was "schtroumpfs"? Most fun to say!

VERY excited for the bra story.

Posted by: Jan | November 9, 2009 12:38 AM

I meant to go to bed nearly an hour ago, for it is late and I have stuff to do tomorrow, but then I clicked on Miss Doxie in my bookmarks and had to read this. And it was the high point of my day and I am certain I will now have entertaining-but-maybe-not-happy dreams about Death Kittehs.

Posted by: Tasha | November 9, 2009 12:41 AM

I'm totally having Smurf flashbacks, and while I didn't expect to find myself googling "Azrael, the Smurf eating cat" late on a Sunday night, I totally am, and it's admittedly pretty awesome.

Posted by: Kerri Anne | November 9, 2009 02:04 AM

More Doxie, so soon! Thanks for regaling us with the story of Azrael the Kitteh, lol.

and omg you guys get into Halloween!

Posted by: Erin | November 9, 2009 02:18 AM

omg...love that you're back. I read this and remembered how I rescued my Manx...it's a wonder I can even type with my stubby fingers, she found them to be a delicious treat. I'm so looking forward to reading more stories!

Posted by: Sandy | November 9, 2009 02:34 AM

How to make a blog more perfect? Just add Kitteh!

Our cat used to pounce on us whenever he could - but he stopped doing that when he grew older. Maybe he thinks he is to mature now, for such "childish" games? But we sure do miss those good old times.... It brought your blood pressure right up!

More power to Leigh - worlds greatest Kitteh-Saviour!

Posted by: Jens | November 9, 2009 06:09 AM

OMG. On my third cat. Bought the first one. DUH! Had no idea there were conservatively one bazillion of them just looking for my house already. Current cat - OTIS II - named after OTIS I. He is also of the batting LOUD toys in the middle of the night all over the places that make the most noise persuasion. Especially the jacuzzi. I have learned one thing from him - DO NOT BATHE CATS. Not even if you leash them to the faucet. They can still kill you. Just takes longer.

Posted by: J-Mo | November 9, 2009 06:55 AM

For a non-cat person you catch on pretty quick. The first kitteh we ever had as actual married people had various kitteh toys, mostly crumpled-up (empty) cigarette packs (kitteh + cellophane = endless kitteh joy) and the rings off milk-bottle tops, and at 2 am she would bring each of them in turn onto the bed and say "Playtime!" and we would say "go AWAY, cat," repeat ad insomniam.

Not to mention the time she added to the little pile of kitteh objects already on the bed... a mouse. Not a rubber or squeaky or catnip mouse-shaped toy, a MOUSE. A dead one (that would explain not squeaky).

Oh, and just wait until AK needs pills.

Welcome to kittehville!

Posted by: Lucia | November 9, 2009 08:22 AM

Hee! It's entertaining when non-cat-people get cats. I look forward to hearing what happens with her and the dogs. Sounds like a recipe for hilarity to me.

Did I mention I'm glad you're back? Keep storytellin'!

Posted by: Amanda | November 9, 2009 09:05 AM

I got a cat about a year and a half ago, because I just had to be that single girl :P I am so very amused to see that you have joined the Kitteh People.

Posted by: Heather | November 9, 2009 09:29 AM

Thanks for starting out my week with such a great laugh!

Posted by: Average Jane | November 9, 2009 09:43 AM

Have you watched any of the Simon's Cat films? I kept thinking of them as I read this post...


Posted by: JChevais | November 9, 2009 10:18 AM

Awesome story, I still want to know what possessed you to think it was ok to let a fox into your car, umm rabis anyone?

Congrats on the cat, we are currently cat people looking for a dumpster dog.

I am so happy you are back, it is the greatest most awesomest, coolest, fantasicle thing in teh hole world.

Posted by: Jen | November 9, 2009 10:39 AM

Aaaaaaaaaand, she is back, folks! I am so glad!

Posted by: Lena | November 9, 2009 10:46 AM

My cat loves the toilet too. Fresh, cool water. We stop up one of the bathroom sinks now and fill it up with water every night. Has definitely cut down on wet hineys in the middle of the night.

Posted by: Missy | November 9, 2009 10:47 AM

Oh gracious. That one ranks up there with the Cookie and the Goose storeh.

PS have you ever seen this? I think it's up your alley now http://store.theonion.com/product/kitten-thinks-of-nothing-but-murder-all-day-magnet,138/

Posted by: DK | November 9, 2009 11:07 AM

Am at work. Boss next door. Got the really screwy-faced hysterical hysteria once the cat wanted the squeaky rat in the middle of the night. There was no reason that I should be making the sounds I was making had I been proofreading about dowels like I was supposed to. I heart hot Senator Shania for wanting a cat.

Posted by: June Gardens | November 9, 2009 11:14 AM

Hey, cats are great. Thanks for helping him. Best wishes to you! BTW I noticed you're a great LOLcat fan. Kudos!

Posted by: Kittehmaster | November 9, 2009 11:23 AM

I just love you and that's all I have to say about that!

Posted by: EB | November 9, 2009 11:23 AM

I've never commented before but am so glad you're back and doing so well. This post was hilarious.

Posted by: Kristen | November 9, 2009 11:41 AM

Yeah! Love the post, love the photos, love that you are back on our computers for Monday morning!

Posted by: mamalush | November 9, 2009 11:42 AM

I found a poor little Ghetto Kitteh in the, well, in the ghetto and a similar story ensued. I was so smitten with my boyfriend for letting me keep the Ghetto Kitteh that I had to marry him. It worked out well for all, especially the Ghetto Kitteh who sleeps on my face, suffocating me, every night. That is, when he isn't chucking toy mice at my head and/or howling at a particularly aggressive portion of the wall.

We loves him.

Posted by: Operation Pink Herring | November 9, 2009 12:11 PM

It appears you are equally hilarious when you are happy.

Posted by: mommamack | November 9, 2009 12:45 PM

A million years ago when I lived in Miami and had
1. a job
2. no kids
3. a car

I used to always drive around with
1. a bottle of water
2. a dish
3. kibble
4. a leash
in my trunk. Because I was forever finding dogs on the Palmetto or I-75 or Alligator Alley or whatever and had to lure them into my car and off the highway.

I called this doing "an intervention." I was often late for work and had to call my boss and say, "I'm going to be late because I'm running an intervention."

I later learned I had a colleague who used to call said boss and say, "I'm going to be late because I'm getting LAID." But she finally realized she is a lesbian and is much happier now and that's another story.

Also, our cat, cleverly named Cat-O by my 9-year-old used to play the pointy game which we called "PAH!" because he would lurk behind doors and leap out shouting "PAH! You're IT!" Then we got him a co-cat and he stopped PAH-ing us. Which was sort of sad. Except now they PAH! each other.


Posted by: The Expatresse | November 9, 2009 12:55 PM

Thank you, thank you, thank you, for the Monday laughter. So happy to have you back. xo

Posted by: Heather | November 9, 2009 01:03 PM

As a former lifelong dog person it does take a lot of getting used to when you have a kitteh.

Fun trick to each them is belly rubs- most kitties like to be scratched under their chins but don't like their stomachs touched. Over time you can sort of move the chin scritches down until they accept upper chest scritches and maybe eventually belly rubs.

I tried this on my cat and now he's constantly flopping onto his back and grabbing our hands with his paws and purring to make the tummy rubs happen. And then I melt into a big puddle of goo.

Posted by: Kat Anderson | November 9, 2009 01:20 PM

OH. MY. GOD. I had to stop and go away a couple of times before I could finish this because I was laughing so hard, and maniacal laughter is frowned upon here at work. Seriously, Leigh, thank god you're back. I have missed you SO much. I was thinking I would list all of the things that I loved most about this post, but really, it's all of it. (Pointy, though, I love the references to pointy, because those damn cats are... pointy.) Welcome back. Don't ever leave me again...

Posted by: Leigh Too | November 9, 2009 01:23 PM

Holy crap, am I glad you are back to a-postin'. Oh, AK: cute lil' baby angel!

Posted by: Lea | November 9, 2009 01:41 PM


sniff, sniff... wiping tears of hilarity off face.

Miss Doxie is BACK!

Posted by: Melissa O in DC | November 9, 2009 01:53 PM

Ok, my husband and I are slightly crazy kitteh persons so loved this! I've been known to lure a few dogs into my car AND feed feral cats who if I ever attempted to pet would take their pointies and amputate my right arm. Soooooooooooo...yay for happiness and kitteh!

Posted by: Angeerah | November 9, 2009 01:56 PM

OMG, this is hilarious, and I'm so glad you kept the Kitteh! She is adorable. I love those tuxedo kittehs.

SO glad you're back...even if it means I have to stifle my laughter here in the office once again!

Posted by: Mauigirl | November 9, 2009 01:59 PM

Oh jebus ... the laughter! Best post I have read anywhere in a while now. So glad to meet ya!

Posted by: Leslie in Toronto | November 9, 2009 02:56 PM

Also: please do another holiday shopping suggestion list-y thing this year. I still owe people gifts from last year as I kept waiting for you to post a list and GEEZ.

Thank you.

Posted by: Lea | November 9, 2009 02:58 PM

it is good that brian is happy. and if he is in part responsible for leigh being happy, i thank him. yours is a most welcome internet return. and if there is ever a next time of super unhappiness for you, feel free to share that with us too. we are not only fair weather website readers, ya know. we can return the happy you give us every time you post.

Posted by: denice | November 9, 2009 03:32 PM

oh god leigh. i'm going to be fired. fired!
down the side of my face.
i laughed sooooooooo much.
(to paraphrase madeline kahn)

missed you.

Posted by: kristina | November 9, 2009 04:23 PM

Isn't the gun an AK47? And doesn't that mean you need another 46 kittehs?

Posted by: Loth | November 9, 2009 04:35 PM

I married two cats, and when we brought home a third and introduced her to my dog, she launched herself into the wall at about 90 miles an hour, emitting an alarming hissy-shrieky sound.

Good times.

Posted by: Annie | November 9, 2009 04:50 PM

Miss Doxie, I am so glad you are back.

And happy.

Posted by: Lisame | November 9, 2009 04:55 PM

Kitteh is horneh.

Posted by: Running Budgie | November 9, 2009 05:30 PM

"and instead of parenting a teenager, it was more like dating an asshole." LOLOLOL best line ever!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Posted by: m | November 9, 2009 05:45 PM

Oh dear Lord I swear I could have written this. My husband had 2 cats when we met, and wanted a third. Well the older of the two passed away about a year ago so the pestering had been turned up a notch for the last year. That is until last month when a neighbor found a stray and her 3 kittens in his backyard. I was ambushed into seeing the cats and well let's just say that my husband got an early birthday present which is now named Stanford and likes to chase the dogs tails.

Posted by: Courtney | November 9, 2009 06:06 PM

Freaking hilarious! Love Kitteh.

Posted by: Karyn | November 9, 2009 07:01 PM

:::wild applause:::

I've never quite gotten past cats' tendency to go from "play fighting" to "frappe" with no warning, so I would definitely agree with Brian that you are the bestest girlfriend in the wuuurld for putting up with all of that.

Posted by: Cobwebs | November 9, 2009 07:08 PM


i peed a little

Posted by: V | November 9, 2009 07:41 PM

Oh good goddamn jesus christ, Leigh, you crack my shit the HELL UP. I don't actually, literally LOL when reading things on the intarwebs, except for basically right now when I read this. The guy in the office across the hall now thinks I'm insane, I'm pretty sure. Thanks a lot. :)

Posted by: Joey | November 9, 2009 07:48 PM

JEEEEZUS! That was the longest entry in the world, but (as usual) totally worth it. Copper and Tess (whom we adopted in August) say "meowza" to AK.

Posted by: scholae | November 9, 2009 08:01 PM

Totally, totally enjoyed the Kitteh storeh! My girlfriend and I read it aloud...laughed, weeped and almost peehed our pants! Thank you for writing and please don't ever stop because you, my dear, are amazing and whether or not you really know it...you make alot of people very happeh!

Posted by: Pam | November 9, 2009 08:43 PM

If you suspect that your kitteh is plotting to kill you, but aren't totally sure, I recommend that you consult this website: http://www.catswhothrowupgrass.com/kill.php

Posted by: Cait | November 9, 2009 10:00 PM

Good god I'm glad you're back.

That is all.

Posted by: Dysfunction Junction | November 9, 2009 11:12 PM

I'm full of anticipation...just waiting for the first hair ball story. I'm placing a "clue-style" bet on this one:
It will happen at night...
next to your side of the bed...
and...will be the precise length of your bare foot.

Just think of it as squishee love.

Posted by: Barb | November 9, 2009 11:23 PM

you've still got it. i just woke up my roommate with my cackling laughter. splish splish splish.

Posted by: jennifer | November 10, 2009 12:04 AM

Darling girl.. HOW does Brian do anything but sit around laughing while you are around for love and entertainment cuz SERIOUSLEH.. YOU are THE funniest thing on the planet. I literally had to pause my catching up on the dvr watching because I can't focus on funny w/ all that not-funny noise from the tv! How dare I?! I'm so glad you sound so happy, the party looked fantastic as did all the work you guys put into the decor - how did you make your death pics? They're awesome! And Kitteh seems like she fits right in w/ all of you. :)

Posted by: Miss Devylish | November 10, 2009 01:57 AM

Oh man, Leigh, I missed your posts. I just laughed so hard about kitteh's love for squeeky rat (and the credenz!) I almost hurt myself. :)

So, YAY! You're back! Thanks for sharing and looking forward to more stories! :)

Posted by: Zee | November 10, 2009 02:57 AM

Yay for the rescued kitteh! She stumbled upon an excellent home.

I looooove the pictures of your Halloween decorations. How do you have the energy, what with the work and the boyfriend and the kitteh and the mad little dogs to do such an awesome job decorating? Seeing your craftiness reminded me: any chance that Shop Doxie will reopen? Not to be too greedy, but now that I have new posts to read I'm hankering for some small, brown, mad merchandise to gaze on!

Posted by: Laura | November 10, 2009 03:21 AM

Wow - you certainly know how to decorate for a party!! Love the kitteh story. I once dated a guy whose family had six...yes, SIX cats. Glad to see you're back :)

Posted by: Jaime | November 10, 2009 08:20 AM

Kittehs can be a pain innee ass, but also quite sweet and fun. Yay for Azrael Kitteh!

Glad you're back, keep up the hilarity...we can't live without our Doxie posts! (No pressure, I'm just sayin'.)

Posted by: Gena | November 10, 2009 09:06 AM

OMG -- you put those little red fingernail thingies on her! HOW CUTE. The cuteness, it kills. Welcome, Angel of Death Kitteh!

Posted by: CLD | November 10, 2009 09:10 AM

Just found you through Schmutzie...and I'm sitting in my office laughing and crying because this is so effing funny! I want to be best friends...but now I realized that probably sounds creepy!

Posted by: Laura | November 10, 2009 09:55 AM

Yay for Kitteh, and even more YAY for happy Miss Doxie!!

We missed you. We worried. I'm glad your online home can be 'home' again.

Welcome back!

Posted by: Rethoryke | November 10, 2009 11:34 AM

Okay that part about maybe that's why cats don't like water, cause it makes them die? Seriously lauging out loud at my desk. SO glad you're back!

Posted by: Shelley | November 10, 2009 12:33 PM

Doxie can we be friends? I think you're probably someone awesome to take to happy hour. I'm CACKLING laughing so hard rightnow.

Awesome kitteh story!

I'm glad she's fit in the doxie household!

Posted by: Aline | November 10, 2009 02:27 PM

As soon as I saw that cat's pics on Facebook I thought, "Oh noes." But I'm now the crazy-4-dog-lady, so what do I know?

Posted by: Hannah Beth | November 10, 2009 05:14 PM

I think your kitteh and ours might have been separated at birth (except that ours came from Atlanta Humane Society rather than a Rape Dumpter). We even got Eleanor the same week you rescued Kitteh. And like your cat, ours luuuurrrrves playing in the toilet (we've become a lid-down family very quickly), the flying squirrel attack, and the purring-purring-purring-BITING! thing. Eleanor also fetches ponytail holders, which might be The Cutest Thing Ever. My husband - like you - grew up with doxies, and I - like Brian - grew up with cats. And while he has grown to love her, he still doesn't know how the hell to interpret her actions either, if it's any consolation.

Posted by: Kristin | November 10, 2009 06:08 PM

I'm crying I'm laughing so hard.

So glad you're back.

Posted by: Lauren | November 10, 2009 08:11 PM

You probably won't like this very much, but I have a solution for the attack mode on AK.... get another cat! :) As the mom of an orphaned 11 week old kitten, I can tell you it was a VERY HAPPY DAY in our house when his older feline brother decided he was good enough to play with! Although we still get flying paws of fury from under the bed, they HAVE lessened (somewhat) and I have semi-high hopes that I will one day be able to pat the Tiny Terror when *I* want to and not only when *HE* decrees!!!

I also have to say I laughed so hard I cried. And my poor husband keeps asking if I'm still reading about Kitteh and is it "really THAT funny? You haven't even had wine yet!!".

Think I'll let him have a read!

Posted by: Kenna | November 10, 2009 08:38 PM

You probably won't like this very much, but I have a solution for the attack mode on AK.... get another cat! :) As the mom of an orphaned 11 week old kitten, I can tell you it was a VERY HAPPY DAY in our house when his older feline brother decided he was good enough to play with! Although we still get flying paws of fury from under the bed, they HAVE lessened (somewhat) and I have semi-high hopes that I will one day be able to pat the Tiny Terror when *I* want to and not only when *HE* decrees!!!

I also have to say I laughed so hard I cried. And my poor husband keeps asking if I'm still reading about Kitteh and is it "really THAT funny? You haven't even had wine yet!!".

Think I'll let him have a read!

Posted by: Kenna | November 10, 2009 08:38 PM

So you totally got off easy! My kitteh not only likes to play in the toilet (yay! flushing! it swirls!), but refuses to use a litter box AT ALL and instead insists on peeing in the tub.

Posted by: melissa | November 10, 2009 09:17 PM

Ah, you're back. I can finally smile again...

Posted by: raquel | November 11, 2009 01:57 AM

Bwah ha ha!! Love it! I'm a crazy cat lady with 3 fat cats, one of whom I'm always fishing out of the garbage disposal (a head-firster at that). Same cat also loves drinking from the toilet (ewww...)

A quick word of advice on the kitteh nails. If she won't let you clip 'em down, then maybe take her back to the vet for a super-short trimming. You can trim all the way down to where the quick ends. It doesn't hurt, and you'll end up with less blood loss for you and it'll give you more time in between trimmings. We have to do that for one of our other fat cats who likes to stalk us in our sleep while he tries to unhinge his jaw and fit us in. :-)

So glad you're back!

Posted by: Cara | November 11, 2009 02:12 AM

AK looks EXACTLY like my devil kitteh who lived to the ripe old age of twenty before she suddenly became both deaf and incontinent and made all our lives hell until she died. My cat also shared an attack pattern with your cat: she hid behind furniture until you walked by unsuspecting, and then suddenly hopped sideways from behind the furniture to your legs, at which point she ATTACHED herself to your leg by a)actually sitting on your foot while b)wrapping many sharp clawnesses around your leg and c)BITING repeatedly. This behavior did not go away with age. Also, you should probably watch for the following: when she's sitting innocently on your chest, facing your face, purring and apparently asleep, you should not be astounded when suddenly she bites you. Like she really, really means it. It's kitteh insanity, and I have a feeling you and your man and the poor doggies are going to be suffering for a while. Good luck!

Posted by: angela | November 11, 2009 09:26 AM

So glad you're back! My mom and I both read and we have missed you so much! I am around your age and have struggled with being sad, too. Its hard even when you know you have so much to be happy for, I know. Good luck with the new man, he sounds wonderful! I'm so happy that you're feeling better! Cheers. Much love, K

Posted by: KK | November 11, 2009 10:33 AM

Welcome kitteh. So glad to see you so happy, Leigh, you deserve it.

Posted by: elizabeth | November 11, 2009 10:47 AM

Our stupid city just named it's stupid baseball team the Flying Squirrels and now, every time I go to a game and I will, without a doubt think of your crazy death cat. Thank you!

Posted by: Terra | November 11, 2009 12:31 PM

Do I see SoftClaws on her toenails? I LURVE SoftClaws. They're annoying at first, but worth the hassle--they've saved a lot of furniture and curtains and dog eyes in our house.

Posted by: blacksheeped | November 11, 2009 01:46 PM

YAY you are back and with stories! Hooray for Evil Death Kitty. I have 3 of the little bastards and I really only appreciate them for their warmth when the heater goes out. Of course if you move or breathe funny they get pointy and pissed off and go sleep on the router and disrupt teh internets.

Also, my fat cat with the tiny head FALLS INTO the toilet frequently (despite the big sign above the toilet BEGGING my roommates to keep the lid down as Zoey falls in A LOT). You can always tell when it's happened because there are little kitty footprints all over the seat, there's water all over the floor, there's shredded TP all over the floor and the cat (ew) (because my roommate is european and apparently cannot flush after just peeing because it will Drain the Earth Of Water You Greedy American) and since kitty's so fat, she can't quite reach all of her distant parts, so the TP shreds tend to dry onto her ass. I am a dog person. I do not enjoy Furminating the TP off a fat, pissy cat's ass at 3 in the morning. I have another 14 years of this to look forward to as this cat is only 6.

I wish you luck. :)

Posted by: doxiefan | November 11, 2009 02:10 PM

Welcome back! Sam the Wonder Cat is VERY proud of you. And so am I. You will find that the love of a kitty is very special. And then when the kitty grows into a 26-pound bruiser like my Sam, there isn't one dog in the neighborhood who will be willing to violate your property. He sits in the front window and glowers at all who pass by, causing them to cower into their owners' legs muttering "No way - not that guy; we've had enough!"

Posted by: Gayle Miller | November 11, 2009 02:12 PM

heh.. welcome back.. now i have to explain to my boyfriend why i'm laughing so hard.


Posted by: Lisa | November 11, 2009 04:00 PM

Thank you for coming back :)

I work at a barn. The cat there likes to hide behind things and jump out and scare the horses when I lead them around. Cat can actually kill me in this manner. But he's too damn funny to be mad at.

Also thank you for coming back again :)

Posted by: name | November 11, 2009 04:32 PM

Absolutely hilarious!

Posted by: Nicole in WI | November 11, 2009 10:29 PM

Holy crap woman, you are too funny!
Having 3 evil pointy creatures myself, I can completely hear where you are coming from. The 3rd one arrived as a stray on our acreage, and just made herself at home, with complete disregard for our lives, and the fact that the 2 evil (possibly incestuous/gay) brother cats ruled the roost. She's here, they're queer (eew) and there are always so many funny stories to tell. I can only imagine how the Doxie postings will evolve with Mrs Kitteh interacting with Bo and Gimmme.
Gimmme more!!

Posted by: Edna in that big place called Canada | November 11, 2009 10:45 PM

Oh, I laughed. I am the same way with the kittehs...but there is one hanging out in our alley that seems to adore our (only, sad, lonely...) dog Daphne...and likewise. We've been calling her DaphneCat (they have the same coloring, for chrissake), and I know it's only one or two more encounters before this cat is going with us to the vet for shots as well. I'm glad to see that it worked out for you...because I'm pretty sure that's the road we are heading down...

Posted by: Natalie | November 11, 2009 10:59 PM

You are TOO funny! Thanks for making me laugh. I can't tell you how special it is to be able to make people laugh. You have a gift!

Posted by: Meghan | November 12, 2009 09:10 AM

I really needed this today.

Thank you for the hilarious story, told in usual hilarious fashion. Glad you're back and happeh.

Posted by: Katie | November 12, 2009 11:55 AM

that was hilarious. I feel for you having the devil cat, but at least you will never get bored.

Posted by: MJF | November 12, 2009 02:39 PM

Man, I wish I was as funny as you. Holy shit, I should not have decided to google you at work!

Posted by: Katie | November 12, 2009 04:30 PM

Good luck with the kitteh.
Long term good luck.
We have one of them, Edith, living with us. She was rescued from a grandma going to nursing home. Lived under a pop machine for a month or so and then came to our house. Lived behind our washer so long our neighbors wanted us to name her Maytag. She's been here for eight years and hates everyone . . . . with grudging exception of my groom and I. Hisses at our friends. Growls at customers of our B&B. Assumes she owns our house and we are only servants for her convenience! Makes life interesting! Enjoy the moments. There will be those longer periods of agony between!

Posted by: Zoto | November 12, 2009 05:23 PM

I was just here not all that long ago, saw that there were no new updates and figured I'd check in again next month. I come here tonight and nearly fell out of my chair, I shit you not. I would have yelled a cheer or something out loud, but my son would have started asking questions and I've dealt with enough teen attitude today.

Yay for Kitteh! Both of my kitteh's are rescues and are weird. One thinks he's a lap cat, the other thinks he's a dog. Both of them are very pointy especially the lap cat as he has double paws on both from feet and all of those toes have nails. He's 17 pounds and thinks he can run up my leg like when he was 4 pounds. Ouch doesn't begin to describe the pain...

Please don't stay away. We get that you needed time and to do your thing, but I ( along with many others) have seriously missed you.

Posted by: Stacy | November 12, 2009 10:04 PM

OMG am seriously crying right now. So funneh.

Thank you.


Posted by: TeacherMommy | November 13, 2009 11:57 AM

This weblog is being featured on Five Star Friday - http://www.fivestarfriday.com/2009/11/five-star-fridays-edition-79.html

Posted by: schmutzie | November 13, 2009 12:08 PM

This weblog is being featured on Five Star Friday - http://www.fivestarfriday.com/2009/11/five-star-fridays-edition-79.html

Posted by: schmutzie | November 13, 2009 12:09 PM

Miss Doxie, how could you have ever doubted that we are all glad you're back? NO ONE tells a story like you do. Keep 'em coming! (PS love the doxies, they are adorable)

Posted by: Ellen | November 13, 2009 02:52 PM

So good to see you!

Also, I am in love with your paintings. Tottaly unique and awesome rolled up in a sandwich.

Posted by: JRM | November 13, 2009 10:02 PM

I am telling all my friends about you. All.

Posted by: Jean | November 14, 2009 02:32 PM

It's been A LONG YEAR. Glad it's over! Was beyond thrilled to read MISS DOXIE IS BACKK! I have "feral sit on the rail of the front porch and make the stoopid doxies in the window crazy" kitteh!! She likes to re-introduce me to pointy from behind various flower containers!! Maybe I'll try and bring her into the house? Nahhhh.. she'd probably eat my dogs!
Congrats on finding Mr Wonderful and being smart enough to let him catch you! We wish you only the best!!

Posted by: Sandi | November 14, 2009 04:39 PM

Holy Smurfs Leigh, but am I glad you are back! You are officially my favorite Blogger/Journaler/Feral Cat Wrangler.

Posted by: Chrissy | November 14, 2009 08:44 PM

So glad you're back, specially now that you have death kitteh to add to your party of doom. Much fun to come. Missed the laughs very much. Again, so, so glad you are back.

Posted by: Rita | November 14, 2009 10:16 PM

More Kitteh please. More Bo please. Just...more. Please.

Posted by: Barbara | November 15, 2009 11:59 AM

So freaking glad you are back! And that you are happy! And that Brian is happy!

My BFF called to tell me you were back and it was one of those "Shut-up! OMG! No Way! Shut-UP!" moments. Life is good.

Posted by: Stefanie | November 15, 2009 08:32 PM

I read this a few days ago but couldn't post then because I was at work and I can't comment at work.

I had to come back now and tell you that I am still giggling about you referring to kitteh as being "pointy". Cracking up!!!

I am also so glad you are back. I, like the comment above by "Stefanie" had my best friend tell me you were back, and I totally didn't believe her! And the funny part? She and I had just been talking about you not a week or so before you came back.

Welcome back Leigh! We missed you!

Posted by: lilfootsmommy | November 15, 2009 11:35 PM

Damn, how did I miss this entry till now? Because my RSS feed is all cobwebby since you'd been gone, of course. Love the kitteh. Love love love the name. And so so so glad, like everyone else on the Information Superhighway, that the Dox is back in action.

Posted by: Gretchen C. | November 15, 2009 11:45 PM

GOD I am glad you are back! I wish I could hate you -- successful lawyer, absolutely GORGEOUS, handsome boyfriend, brilliant writer -- but you're also so damn sweet, I have to love you.

I was really down last night, missing my deployed husband, worried about our upcoming move, blah blah blah. Then I saw you had a new post. I haven't laughed so hard in a year. My stomach muscles are soooo sore today from laughing so hard, and both my kittehs are traumatized by watching me laugh until I cried.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Posted by: Carolie | November 16, 2009 08:05 AM

Ahhh welcome back!!!!!!!!!!!

Posted by: Marcia | November 16, 2009 08:47 AM

so funny! I love the "pointy" the "Rape Garage" and the "living with a teenager" phrases. I'm gonna have to start using those! My apartment totally has a Rape Garage.

Along with those other evil kitty sites, I have to mention the "Mean Kitty" video on Youtubue. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qit3ALTelOo

Posted by: Courtney | November 16, 2009 11:39 AM

Holy Shit Miss DOXIE! THIS! This is what we all stuck around for. I'm so glad you are in a better place now and am totally selfish in saying that I'm glad you are back because I am Laughing Out Loud at this post. Welcome back! Awesomeness.

Posted by: joaaanna | November 16, 2009 08:02 PM

YAY!! I would check your site every once in awhile but had lost hope!

Kitteh was totally worth the wait.

Posted by: Jenn | November 17, 2009 01:47 PM

Kittehs. Are awesomeness. And we are glad u found that out!! WEEEELLLLCOME BACK!!!!

Posted by: Angeh | November 18, 2009 12:37 AM

You have probably heard this, but some cats will USE THE TOILET instead of a litterbox. My mother had a cat that trained itself to do this. Maybe the playing in the toilet is a hopeful sign. (You would have to go in and flush the toilet occasionally - the cat won't do that.)

Posted by: Paula | November 18, 2009 04:50 PM

Oh YAY, you're back! My mom just called to tell me!

Posted by: Marisa | November 18, 2009 05:44 PM

Stupid Dog People, not knowing what to do with a perfectly good, if pointy, cat. Cats are easy! And also pointy, as you pointed out. I ALWAYS have a variety of scratches on my arms, just sort of my "war wounds" from owning cats (one at a time) over many years.

Have you tried trimming her claws with the special claw-cutting thingy yet? Heh. I used to have to wrap her up completely in a towel, then fish around inside for one paw at a time to trim, all while she screamed and fought as if I were burning her. I've given up on that.

Also, my toilet seat lids are always down. And, I learned about the silent toys years ago. Nothing that makes noise, because you just never know when it'll be Play Time! The feathered ones with catnip in them are good.

Good luck with the Kitteh! They are soft and fun and when they puncture you in places best left unpunctured, you will most certainly enjoy the trip to the ER and the resulting blog post.

Again, so glad you're back!

Posted by: Suzy Q | November 18, 2009 06:35 PM

Loving that you're back - couldn't stop laughing. I miss Bo, though - bring him back soon!

Posted by: Krista | November 18, 2009 06:39 PM

You are absolutely the best girlfriend EVAR.

Posted by: Geri | November 19, 2009 09:23 PM

Am so so glad that you're back... but even gladder that you are thriving, and happy, and smiling. Thanks, Leigh!

Posted by: Caroline Wright | November 20, 2009 12:07 PM

Very, very happy to see you back & feeling better! Big internet hugs to you and the doxies (eh, and the kitteh too)!

Posted by: Misty | November 20, 2009 05:12 PM

Welcome back-you were missed. And wow did you come back in a totally big way:-)Okay have to go let everyone know now.

Posted by: Sue | November 21, 2009 07:01 PM

Welcome back! I SO missed snorting wine out my nose while reading your posts! Being the proud owner of a OH-HELL-NO! kitteh (OHN you won't pet me, OHN you daren't pick me up!) I loved, loved, loved this post.

Posted by: Linda/RV Vagabonds | November 21, 2009 10:18 PM

This is a wonderful blog, my daughter just introduced me!

Your readers' comments are as funny as your story! Wonderful!

I am saving up reading previous stories for the day I need a good laugh!

Love it!

Posted by: Carolyn | November 21, 2009 11:24 PM

Damn. I want cats again. 'Cept "the boy" has developed allergies over the years. So I'd have to throw him in a dumpster. But the boy feeds me 99.9% of the time.

It's a dilemma. Get cat, flush boy, never eat a decent meal again...

Posted by: Jazz | November 24, 2009 10:57 AM

Dammit, this is what I get for not having one of those stupid reader things! I swear I used to check back here minimum of once a week. Then boom, I see you've been back for a MONTH and I had no idea. Wow I'm lame. You, however, are awesome and just made my frigging day:) I'm so, so happy you're back!

Posted by: Sarah | November 24, 2009 03:12 PM

I laughed so hard that I scared my doxie. :D

Glad to see you back! And the adventures of Azrael the Kitteh of Death? Priceless.

Posted by: Kim | November 24, 2009 06:04 PM

I found a link to your post on Ravelry, am I am soooooooo glad I clicked it! Nearly spewed coffee out of my nose! Thanks!

Posted by: Mary | November 24, 2009 06:43 PM

by the way, "rape garage" is an utterly awesome way to describe most office garages. consider it entered into my permanent slang vocabulary.

Posted by: erin | November 25, 2009 02:19 AM

So glad you are back!

We have a Rape Alley in Austin. Pro: it's free parking in a town with very little parking, period. Con: There are several dumpsters that people will sometimes pop out of when you are leaving the car. Once, there was a Rape Van.

Posted by: Morgan | November 25, 2009 11:35 AM

You can pick up steaming dog poo with your hands (well, maybe a baggy to cover the hand, but still--steamy. Not McSteamy.) but you can't scoop itty tootsie roll litter logs without gagging? WTF?

Nonetheless, congratulations on the kitteh!

Your Halloween pictures were hilarious, btw.

Posted by: dgm | November 25, 2009 12:43 PM

Welcome back. Glad I kept checking for a post. You are hilarious! Kitteh and the rest of the gang are lucky pets.

Posted by: carrie | November 27, 2009 10:58 PM

i was getting a massage today and suddenly thought MISS DOXIE and then when i later logged on you were back.

Posted by: True Story | November 28, 2009 09:59 PM

OMG...I'm so glad your back!!!! I am looking forward to your new adventures...btw brian aka "Senator Sasquatch" looks like a real hottie :)

Posted by: Amy | November 29, 2009 11:26 AM

Holy kiss my happy wide arse! She is back and has made my day!

Posted by: deb from austin | November 29, 2009 06:06 PM

holy cow, so glad you are back! This makes my post-law school unemployment less boring, uh, for today, which, yay, thank you!

Posted by: Jess | November 29, 2009 09:12 PM

ooh! Knowing you are back makes meh HAPPEH!! ^_^

Posted by: Sheepie | November 30, 2009 10:50 AM

I knew it was worth checking back and checking back and all that missing Bo............... But I have sadness. I only have one "I water Christmas Tree for you" card left (only my best friends got them, hence the reason there is one remaining). I hope, hope, hope the Doxie shop opens once more, also have 2 friends (I TOLD you I don't have very many) with adorable felt stuffed Bo and blackbird pendant and it's all about me and my Christmas shopping . Welcome Back!! (stuffed devil kitteh?) PS I haz a Brian too.

Posted by: Dollysmom | November 30, 2009 06:41 PM

I kind of liked Lady Bullshit McLiarboots

Posted by: joeinvegas | November 30, 2009 08:09 PM

1) face hurts. LAUGHING. Thank you!
2) welcome back to writing and happy joy for your happiness
3) so glad I typed in your URL tonight just to check in (see face hurting)

Posted by: Mon | November 30, 2009 10:45 PM

I'm so glad your back.

You just made me laugh so hard my face hurts.

I REALLY needed a good laugh tonight.

Thank you!

Posted by: MichelleRenee | December 1, 2009 07:51 PM

so at this point i'm assuming you're not even reading comments anymore cause there.are.so.many. so that means i can say whatever i want. shit nuggets! ha! but REALLY we're so glad to have you back. and you don't owe anyone any reasons for your absence. we all need breaks now and then, even from the things we love. in any case, welcome back and thank you for returning, you've been greatly missed :)

Posted by: Ash | December 2, 2009 01:00 AM

This post is made of Teh Awesome. I have not literally laughed out loud so much at a blog in a LONG ASS TIME :D

Posted by: velocibadgergirl | December 2, 2009 11:16 PM

Hey it's great to see you blogging again! You inspired me way back in the day... so now I blog. Happy to see you're so happy!

Posted by: Miss Alpha | December 3, 2009 12:45 AM

You saved a free-range kitteh! How are the dogs taking to their new roommate?

And I'm glad you're back. I started reading you the nanosecond before you took your unexpected hiatus. I cursed you for abandoning me. But bygones. All is forgiven.

Posted by: Dingo | December 3, 2009 12:05 PM

Heyyyy... more writey! um, please?

Posted by: brynne | December 4, 2009 03:05 AM

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