Tuesday, May 31, 2011

05.31.11 : you're goin' nowhere

Bill and I were out of town for two days. When we were packing, Kaesea came in and put his paw down. "You're not taking this bag."

Sunday, May 29, 2011

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Monday, May 23, 2011

05.23.11 : cheeeeeese

Okay. I cannot help but laugh when I look at this photo. What a nut. Thanks for 15+ years of hilarity, Kaesea. You're the best.

Thursday, May 19, 2011

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

05.18.11 : fluffy tail

Things have been sort of... unsettled... around here since losing Biscuit. I think Kaesea is happy to be an only kitty again, but it's still been kind of... not quite right.

He had a rough weekend last weekend and I thought, "Please hang around, Kaesea. We cannot stand to lose both of our cats in one week." But he came around. Like he does. Check out that ultra-fluffy tail.

"Me? Yeah. I come around. You might have noticed that about me."
Indeed we have, Kaesea. Indeed we have.

Sunday, May 15, 2011

The Story of Biscuit

Although this blog is intended to be "All Kaesea. All the time," we've had a shock at Chez Kaesea this past week. Kaesea's brother, Biscuit, passed away very suddenly and unexpectedly. This is his story...

When I got Biscuit in 2003, I was looking for two things:
1. A playmate for Kaesea, and
2. A lapcat.

One out of two isn't bad.

He was such a cute kitten (despite my mother's fear that he would never grow into those ears). He grew up to be a scaredy cat, but he was adventurous back then:

Sometimes getting into weird situations:

This is one of my all time favorite photos -- two kittens:

Seriously. The cuteness.

Kaesea was 7 when Biscuit arrived and he had lived with and played with other kitties in the past. What I did not know was that he was Over. It. He was ready to be an Only Kitty and he definitely was not ready for the Biscuit.

But it was pathetic -- for most of their time together, Kaesea weighed nearly twice as much as Biscuit did!

I don't know why he wouldn't just give Biscuit the smackdown. Sometimes he did:

But not often.

For all of the fighting, they would sometimes just pass out together:

Note Kaesea's arm over Biscuit right there. The cuteness!

They were separated in 2009 when Kaesea got sick and they were not as close after that. But sometimes they were. Here's one from December 2010. Kaesea wasn't too happy, but Biscuit always loved to snuggle:

Despite torturing Kaesea, Biscuit was a lover to everyone else. He wasn't just a lapcat. He was the ultimate lapcat. If you made a horizontal surface with your body, Biscuit would jump up on it faster than you can say, "What is that crazy orange thing doing here?"

Biscuit's favorite spot to sleep: Bill's lap.

Biscuit's Dark Side was that... he ate things. Things that cats are not supposed to eat. Thread, yarn, and string. Knitted things, plush things, wool things. If it was soft, stretchy, woolly, or woven, Biscuit would chew on it. And eat it. If you fell asleep with your shoes on, Biscuit would chew your shoelaces. Right on your feet.

Before I knew this, I left a sweater out when I went out of town for the weekend. I came home to this:

Biscuit seemed unconcerned:

Hey! Whatcha takin' photos of? This here sweater? I did some good work, huh?

In that way, Biscuit ruled our house. We had to put everything away, all the time. In some ways, it's a good thing: Biscuit kept us in line. There's no leaving your shoes out in Biscuit's House.

Biscuit had the voice of a street punk. Bill gave Biscuit that voice and it was perfect. One time, when Biscuit had eaten some shoelaces and left the plastic ends on the floor. Bill spoke for Biscuit and said, "Yeah... I don't like the bones."

For most of his life, he was small, yet he was the loudest member of our household. We called him "Thunderpaw." It was astounding the amount of noise that cat could make running around the house. And when he stepped on you, it was as if he was trying to drill to your core. I have no idea how such a small kitty managed to put so much pressure in one spot, but he did.

How could these little pink paws pack such a punch?!

Biscuit was, ultimately, Bill's cat. I got Biscuit just a few weeks before I got Bill. Once Bill was on the scene, Biscuit said, "Mine!"

Bill napping on the couch was Biscuit's idea of heaven, and his favorite thing to do was stretch all along the length of Bill's legs:

Biscuit's best friend was Ben, our big black dog. His whole body was smaller than Ben's head, but Biscuit would rub and love all over Ben. We would frequently come home from work and find Ben's face covered in Biscuit's fur. He would knead Ben's back and body with his paws and we called him "Deep Tissue Biscuit."

Recently, when Ben was eating, Biscuit butted him out of the way and ate some food right out of Ben's dish! Ben is a good boy and he really loved that little cat.

One of his dozens of nicknames was "Horror Biscuit." You'd look and see an empty spot and look back a moment later and... there he was! Where did he come from?!

Ree! Ree! Ree!

One time, Bill was looking for Biscuit under the bed. He paused to look back up on the bed and there was Biscuit, leaning over the edge, as if to say, "Hey. Whatcha lookin' for under there?"

Bill called Biscuit "Tennis Ball Head" when he was a kitten... his head was small and round and fuzzy, so it fit. We thought he'd never become cat-sized, but one time we came home from a trip and our kitten was a cat!

Yeah... keep callin' me "tennis ball head," dude. I know where you sleep.

He had a beautiful coat -- gorgeous orange swirls. And so plush! He was so very, very soft. Velvety.

Biscuit was obsessed with showing us his butt. If he started to snuggle up to you, he'd immediately turn around... "Have you seen this?" Yes, Biscuit, we certainly have. He would stand on your shoulder and turn around so his butt was right near your ear as if to say, "Hey. Wanna hear a secret?" No, Biscuit, we do not.

Biscuit made us laugh all the time.

(Kaesea, not so much.)

He was a cuddler and a head-butter. He loved to dive under the covers on the bed.

A snuggler, a lover, a goofball, a speed demon. He was a nut.

His great-grandmother called him "The Pickle."

Who me?

We always speculated that Biscuit would die young because of the things that he ate that he shouldn't have. In fact, when we took him in because he had been vomiting this week, we were sure that's what had happened.

But when they went in to do the surgery, they found cancer. It was far advanced and the tumor had ruptured his intestine. Attempting to fix it would require a lot of hospitalization and a rough time for Biscuit.

So we let him go. It was the hardest decision either one of us has ever had to make. But it was the right decision for Biscuit.

There is a Biscuit-shaped hole in our home and our hearts. I still can't believe that he's gone. Biscuit, we love you. And we miss you. So terribly much.

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

05.10.11 : playtime!




Aaand... Tired now!

Sunday, May 8, 2011

05.08.11 : ownership, challenged

Kaesea says, "This right here? Yes, I own this."

Then... Biscuit shows up.

Grumpy Kaesea says: "Whatever. It's still mine. Let me show you with two paws now!"

Saturday, May 7, 2011

Friday, May 6, 2011

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

05.03.11 : getting warmer

The weather warmed up today. Here's Kaesea stretched out in a classic attempt-to-cool-off pose.

Sunday, May 1, 2011