Cat | From the Desktop of Sid and Nata

I have been too lazy to post anything lately, but here is a quick update:

Zero (C. fasciatum) has still not let me measure him….nor have I been able to get near the molt. Today though, he did begin to push it out of his hide, so tomorrow I am going to try and remove it while feeding the zoo.

Tank (Aphonopelma sp.) has not eaten in a while, and looks like he may be molting. Aphrodite (B. boehmei) has also been refusing food, and looks very boring in color. I really REALLY REALLY can’t wait for her to molt!!

Nata (G. rosea) exhibited some odd behaviors on Sunday, and in addition to refusing food (which is not like her at all!) she attacked the water that I was pouring in her dish AND attacked the tweezers I was using to place a cricket in her tank. This is highly unlike her.

Now, she and Sarva are both acting like normal pet rocks. WEIRD.

Thank God Sarva is still normal, and as always was a pleasure to hold during feeding. She’s so sweet!

Well, that was my update, and when I finally get my schedule back (as far as adjusting to new work times and new sleep times) I will post the promised pictures, Molt Update, LS roundup, and regular blogging.

BTW- For those of you who read my Frank Zappa blog, I wanted to let you know that tonight my cat tried to eat my foot…through my blanket. He is truly a douche-bag, but yes…I love him.

Frankie *Wonder Kitty* Loving Me With His Teeth

How insects and crustaceans molt (scienceblogs.com)
My Tarantula is Molting! (therealowner.com)

Frank Zappa was a loud, charismatic and over the top musician who put the song “Catholic Girls” in my head for years. Frank Zappa is also a flea bitten clump of fur that is currently licking unmentionable parts of his anatomy at my feet. It should be obvious to you that the lyrical genius behind the breath taking lyrics “Why does it Hurt When I pee?” is NOT the subject of this blog, and the brown and black striped Fancy Feast machine is.

Frank

Frank Zappa, aka Frankie aka Frank (pronounced “Fronk”) is a pain in my ass, and while he is currently plotting my undoing, I am sitting here wondering how high the “Kitty Copter” could launch him. We have come to an understanding over the past 2 years that I am the human around here, and he is to obey my every command-once he releases my ankle in his bear hug.

This handsome boy, destined to become a thorn in my sock, started out in a less that desirable way. He came to me in a box, and from the looks of it, from a person who wanted to just get rid of the kitten. (But used the story of “finding this kitten on the side of the road.” to tug at my heart strings a bit.)

I was living alone in the western side of Los Angeles, and as the manager of a pet supply store, I knew that having a little kitty around was exactly what I had wanted. Long story short, this was my first apartment without any traces of man or beast living along side of me. I was a free woman with just a job, and internet connection, and not a TV or social life in sight. Then came this kitty in a box, and my world suddenly became about it.

Funny thing about working at an animal supply store, is that one tends to not question when people tell you the sex of their pets. The thought was no different as I blindly took the man’s word that this little kitten was a she. My staff at the time put in suggestions for names immediately (as kitty spent my shift in the office) and the name Stella came about. (after the raw diet we promoted for animals.)

Stella went home that night with a purple collar, heart shaped tag, and all the kitty necessities.

Over the next few weeks, she seemed sweet until one day she discovered how to knock over a coffee cup, thus ending my cream colored carpet for good.

After the first triumph, it was over for any cup after that, until Stella graduated to change, plants, and anything else sitting on a surface.

Baaad Kitty Stella!!

OOPS!- Remember the guy who gave me this girl kitty? I guess he (and I) were too stupid to check under the skirt of this little kitty. Stella, the vet announced, is a boy!

Damn!

I again had to choose a name for this heathen in fur, and my boyfriend came up with the name Frank, after the legend, and after the moments we had shared listening to the pee song (long ago) in his car at the park. Frank Zappa it is.

About a year later, I flew Frank to Oregon where he has since become an outdoor kitty (and indoor, and in my bed, and on my chair, and on my ankle…) He has bonded well with my guy, and I am under the distinct impression that Frank has finally decided to get rid of me. Right before moving day, the sweet little kitty took a massive chunk out of my arm, actually causing nerve damage. I guess he wanted to play…or kill me. $100.00 later for the doctor, and another $100 to the airline (plus the cost of my ticket) and we boarded the plane to Oregon. I got Coach, Frank got cargo. PFFFFFTTTHHHHHHHH!!!!

Frank fights with me over the lap of my guy, and even tries to steal my food (buttered noodles, cheese, ANYTHING.) I would steal his, but Fancy Feast is just NOT my cup of tea- which too gets knocked over by the cat once named Stella.

Heeere kitty kitty…I got a present for youuuuu!!

It seems that Mr. “Fronk” is not a fan of the spray bottle I use to add humidity to the spider tanks. Mr “Fronk” is also not a fan of the spiders, as he sits and plots away at how to knock them off the surface once used as just a desktop. Like the change that went flying off my tables in LA, 1..2…3..plop plop plop, I could see the mini deli cups hitting the floor, rattling the tarantulas that will soon become bigger than the flea bag himself.

Oh, how I can’t wait to see the day 😀

Frank and I simply manage, and as the war progresses, I will keep you up to date.