Category Archives: humor

The Abby Chronicles–My Humans are Entertainment Directors

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Here I am, ready to write my story!

Chapter XV

We cats are intelligent animals. Any intelligent creature, such as cats, humans, ( and those slobbery, loud creatures known as dogs—ugh!) can become bored. I get bored, and then I get into what the humans I live with call “trouble”. I don’t call it “trouble”; I think of it as “amusing myself”.

Eventually the humans had enough of my antics, so now they are my entertainment directors. One of them brought out a catnip-filled sock, which is good for sniffing, sleeping on, and occasionally kicking vigorously. The other human produced a catnip-filled toy about the size of a mouse. Unlike a real mouse, this toy is tied to a stick. The human takes the stick and jerks it in the air or moves it across the carpet. That’s when the real fun begins. I give the toy some swift paw action, just to let it know who’s boss. I jump up in the air or stand up on my hind paws to swat it. Sometimes I bite it. I pretend not to realize the other end of the stick is held by a human (but as I wrote, we cats are intelligent).

Humm—I just realized something. As the humans are entertaining me, I am entertaining them!

Abby

©P. Booher, secretary

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The Abby Chronicles–My Human Has a Reputation!

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Here I am, ready to write my story!

Chapter XIV

I’ve noticed something about the humans I live with:  every time the younger human comes home from work or shopping, the humans sit down and eat something. It doesn’t matter whether it’s in the morning, afternoon, or night, for some reason, they eat! So, I figure, hmmm, if the humans eat when the younger human comes home, I should eat too, right? I mean, I’m the one and only fabulous feline of this house. So, I sit in front of my dish, and eventually, one of the humans feeds me.

The humans laugh and say that the younger human has a reputation–when she comes home, we eat!!

Oh–here she comes through the door now!

P.S. In case anyone gets the wrong idea, I want to say my humans do feed me other times, too.

Abby

P. Booher, secretary

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The Abby Chronicles–Looking Out for My Human

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Here I am, ready to write my story!

Chapter XIII

Saturday the younger human came home from work tired. She was so tired she almost fell asleep before supper.

After supper she went into the living room, gathered up some blankets and laid down on the couch. She put the blankets on and I plopped down across her legs, thinking, “Oh, how nice. We can go to sleep.” Instead the human opened the book she brought with her. I thought, “What! She’s going to read when she needs to sleep!” Walking up to the book, I placed my paw down on the book, moving the page away from my human’s face. She said, “Oh, Abby!” and started reading again. I put my paw down on the book again. This time she got the message, and put the book on the nearby coffee table.

To prevent her from reading anymore, I laid down on my human so my back was up against her throat, thus making it difficult for her to reach the book. I started purring. A short time later I heard her snoring. I smiled as I fell asleep. I’d done my job; my human was getting the sleep she needed.

I include this chapter in my Chronicles because the humans we felines live with occasionally need our help to help themselves. Cats have no problem with realizing when we need to rest and recharge. Humans seem unwilling to admit they need to rest. They want to get more done. What I’ve found out though, is that humans don’t get much more done; they get grouchy instead. So we cats help ourselves and the humans when we help the humans rest.

Abby

P. Booher, secretary

 

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The Abby Chronicles–Send the Human to Work!

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Chapter XII

I am a cat, and ordinarily eat canned cat food. I love to eat “people” chicken and “people” tuna–you know, the meat that comes out of cans, like my cat food, but it tastes really good.

The younger human goes to work some days, and most of those days she fixes food to take with her. I don’t get too excited about that, except for those days she opens up canned chicken or tuna people food. Although I don’t see out of one eye well, or hear out of one ear well, there’s nothing wrong with my nose! As soon as I smell that chicken or tuna, I run into the kitchen. Now, mind you, I–Abby, a cat–don’t beg. Begging is for those slobbery, noisy creatures known as dogs. I just sit quietly and look up at her. If she doesn’t give me some of her food right away, I may softly meow. Usually that’s not necessary. She is well-trained and gives me some chicken or tuna right away. Boy, is it good!

Now you know my demand when I haven’t had people chicken or tuna for awhile:

Send the human to work!

Abby

P. Booher, secretary

 

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The Abby Chronicles–Abby Goes to the Kitty Doctor (Round 2)

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Here I am, ready to write my story!

Chapter XI

I went to the kitty doctor today. I’ve been sneezing and my humans decided I should go to the vet’s. So my humans put me in the carrier and the carrier and me in the car, the car said, “Vroom!” and off we went.

The vet and her assistant were very nice, particularly since they kept putting treats on the table.  Believe me, I kept eating them, too! They were lip-smacking good! (Last time I wrote about being at the vet’s, I forgot to tell you they gave me treats.) I really like that vet. Continue reading

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The Abby Chronicles–Abby “Guarding” Her Food

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Chapter X

This is Abby’s secretary. I am taking over The Abby Chronicles for today. I sneaked a photo of Abby guarding her food to post.

new-abby-guarding-her-food.jpeg

I’ll make sure NOBODY takes my food!

P. Booher

 

 

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The Abby Chronicles–Abby Goes to the Kitty Doctor

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Here I am, ready to write my story!

Chapter IX

Author’s Note: It’s been awhile since I wrote anything. I told my secretary that needed to change! Further, I told her I wanted to take over her “Friday Photos” spot for this week. She protested, but I told her my posts include a picture of me so that counts. Besides, some Fridays she doesn’t post anything. She mumbled something and agreed. I also told her from now on, I want my name listed below my posts. She protested again, but I pointed out she could put her name below mine.

Continue reading

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The Abby Chronicles–Mean Human! Nice Human!

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Here I am, ready to write my story!

Chapter VIII

I was in a jumpy mood today–running around, jumping everywhere (sometimes where I wasn’t wanted). This I can’t understand. After all, I’m Abby. Shouldn’t I be wanted everywhere, and on everything? Hmmm, I guess not, from the reactions I got.

Anyway, the younger human picked me up and took me into the living room, where the familiar basin of water tinged with dishwashing detergent awaited me. The human sat down on the couch and proceeded to comb me with the flea comb, picking the fleas off the comb and putting them in the water. The fleas sank, never to rise again. Although the human was happy to get rid of fleas, I was not. I was uncomfortable. The flea comb pulled my fur, and I wriggled around on the human’s lap. She told me things that were supposed to make me feel better, but they didn’t, and a couple times I jumped off her lap and ran away. She picked me up and took me back over to the couch. Mean Human!!

Finally she got the message and said, “Ok, Abby, I quit with the comb.” She pulled a pet wipe from the package and moved the pet wipe over me, starting with my head. At first I wriggled and squirmed, but then the more she ran the pet wipes over me, the more I relaxed. I began to purr. I even allowed her to run the wipes over my belly and paws. The wipes felt so soothing. Nice Human!

Just as I was almost asleep, she picked me up from her lap and put me on the couch. “I’m done, Abby.” Mean Human!

A caution for any fabulous feline out there thinking of moving in with humans: it takes a lot of patience to do so. Humans are unpredictable, and the minute a cat thinks the house is run for the cat, the humans do something to throw that thought process off. (Of course, we felines don’t let it bother us, and we always manage to set things right.)

©P. Booher

 

 

 

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The Abby Chronicles–Of Fleas and Flea Combs, Cornstarch, and Pet Wipes

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Chapter VII

As I was sitting on the desk washing myself (my fur coat requires a lot of attention) the younger human approached me with the flea comb. She started petting me and I moved as close to her as I could. She parted my coat with her fingers, then ran the comb through my fur.

The older human said, “I’ll bring the little wastebasket over.”

“Okay,” the younger human said, then added, “Could you bring the wipes and the little bit of cornstarch left in the box? The wipes are in the box that says, “Abby’s Stuff”.

The younger human combed me some more, then said, “Oh, Abby, we need to go over to the couch. My back is bothering me.”

She picked me up, along with the wipes and the box of cornstarch, and we went over to the couch. She sat down and rubbed cornstarch in the mats in my fur. I didn’t mind her rubbing my fur, even the fur on my belly. Truthfully, I liked all the attention. She explained the cornstarch could help untangle the mats, making them easier to get out. That sounded good to me.

I felt something damp and cool on my head, and smelled a peculiar scent. The younger human showed the wipe to me, keeping a firm hand on me so I wouldn’t run away.  She ran the wipe down my neck, under my chin, around the sides of my face, down my back, on my belly, and on my tail.

After she was done with the pet wipes I washed myself. The wipes made my coat smell. Since I am an inside cat, that fact wasn’t too bad. However, if I had business to attend to outside, it would be a different story. You see, any smell on my coat could alert enemies such as dogs, foxes, coyotes, or raccoons to my presence. Not good! Even though I am an indoor cat, instinct took over and so I washed.

Author’s Note: If you decide to use pet wipes, make sure the kind you get is safe for cats, since we groom ourselves so often.

 

©P. Booher

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The Abby Chronicles–Die Fleas, Die!

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Here I am, ready to write my story!

Chapter VI

Yesterday the younger human did something she hasn’t done for awhile–she combed me.

She picked me up off the kitchen rug and took me into the living room. I saw a basin of water and a flea comb on the coffee table.

She put me in her lap. I purred as she petted me for a little while. Then I felt the comb on my head, going down my neck, back, and side. From time to time she lifted the comb up, took loose hair and a flea off. She put the fleas in the water, and said, “The water’s not hot enough”. She snatched a flea that was crawling up the basin, pinched it between her fingers and put the now-dead flea back in the water.

The younger human said to the older human, “I need a drop of dishwashing detergent in the water–just a drop. That changes the tension of the water surface so the fleas can’t swim; they’ll drown.”

The older human said, “I’ll heat the water in the tea kettle and bring it in.” The older human disappeared and the younger human kept combing me. I kept purring.

The older human returned and poured steaming water in the basin. She put a couple drops of dishwashing detergent in the water.  The younger human took a flea off the flea comb and put the flea in the water, where it promptly sank to the bottom of the basin. The younger human sighed with satisfaction. “There. That takes care of the fleas.” I purred with satisfaction. Die fleas, die!!

Caution: The younger human made sure I stayed away from the water basin. (For my part, I wasn’t even thinking of leaving–her lap was warm and comfortable!) If you use either of these methods–boiling water or water with dishwashing detergent added–to kill fleas while combing your cat, please keep your fabulous feline away from the water.

 

©P. Booher

 

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