Invitation!

[louhirata]

We sure need ice, lots of it. Because today is 41oC at shadow!!!! It is so hot, the fans move hot air around!

(The cats are going to have their basin bath, because it is going to rain tomorrow, so no swiming pool today. But they can have a cat's basin bath, where the water is more shalow and the temperature higher! They love it! )

We have to buy ice in boxes with about 5kg, there is 2kg too, at the grossery store! So, FrostFrog, you are more than welcomed! Bring lots of ice!

Never meat someone from Alaska! How do you keep your cat and yourself warm? You have not said the name of your kitten...

Lou

[Frostfrog]

My cat buddies, posted from oldest (going on 14) to youngest (3): Little Clyde Texaco - tabby; Royce - long-haired pure orange boy; Chicago - chubby little calico; Jim Slim Many Toes - black cat; Pistol-yero, white-pawed, white breasted tabby.

With such cats around, how could it be anything but warm?

[louhirata]

FrostFrog,

Simply very cute your kitties: the names are interesting! Jim Slim Many Toes, what cute name! Specially for a black cat! Chicago, come one, come one, sounds just cool! And Little Clyde Texaco and Royce are funny. Not to mention Pistol-yero. What is the meaning of this last word? It sounds like "pistoleiro" em portuguese, that is a man who shoots with the pistol professionally, like in the old movies!

I am sure they keep you warm! Do they go outside ever? Because it is all ice, isn't it? Alaska sounds very interesting and exotic. How do you dwell on everyday life about the icy environment?

Here it is 40oC latelly, like 28 oC at 4:30 am, which is 5:30 am in summer schedule! The kittens went to the pool yesterday and will go today. I must be carefull because they cannot have pool if it suppose to rain the next day -the temperature falls about 10-15oC, and they might cautch a cold, but if hot climate means no rain, there they go, they love it! They love summer time!

Otherwise, I give them a shower rain with the hose: they don't get really wet. But yesterday I went to visit Ro, and see Jota, Lulu and Suzie, and passed a wet towel on their back and bellies. Suzie, the siamese, loved, she splashed on the floor while I passed it. Lulu, who is black, sat immediately under the roof fan and got refreshed. And Jota, an orange mix angora did not liked at all. it was horrible hot at their home!

Despite the heat, Jota was giving his show and begged in his two back paws for some ham!!! He got all he wanted, because it is so cute, but so cute!!!!

Lou

[Frostfrog]

As for Pistol-Yero, this is the story behind his name:

When my oldest daughter first went off to college at the University of Alaska, Fairbanks, she lived in the dorm with a girl that she did not like, nor did she like the fact that she could not keep a cat there. The next year, she decided to go study in England. There, she again lived in a dorm where she could not keep a cat. As they wandered about England, Scotland, Italy, Czechoslovakia and such, she and her boyfriend met many cats and they would photograph them, and then email me the pictures.

Still, this did not satisfy her desire to live with her cat.

For her junior year, she returned to UAF and rented a waterless cabin out in the woods, because there she could keep a cat.

So, the day before she was to return for classes, I took her to the local pound, where I was confident she would find a good cat. Her younger sister came along and I told her, "Now, we are going to get a cat to go live with Melanie and that is all we are going to do. We already have four cats; that is all we can handle and I do want to hear even one word of persuasion from you, trying to convince me to get another. Do you understand? I especially don't want you to cry."

"I understand, Dad, and I promise I won't ask you to bring home another cat; I won't cry, either – I agree - four cats is enough."

So off we drove to the pound and there, amongst a host of beautiful and deserving cats of all ages, we found two eight monthers, one that had a coat similar to that of a blue fox, and the other a tabby, with a splash of white across his face, a white-belly and four white socks leading down to his white toes.

My eldest daughter quickly settled on the fox-blue, who she named “Slick,” although in time, she would begin to call him “Meechee.”

“You made the right choice,” the sad pound volunteer-lady sighed. “He is a nice cat, but that one down below is a real pistol. He’s mean. He hisses and scratches and bites and nobody wants him. He’s a real pistol! Nobody is ever going to take him. I’m afraid he is going to get the purple tag. He’s a real pistol!” She bent down to the level of his cage and peered in. He arched his back, hissed and let fly with claws extended.

“He’s a real pistol.” She sighed again. “No one will ever take him.”

I squatted down to his level and looked in. He did not look like a mean cat to me – just scared, a cat who did not understand why he had to be in a cage and who did not like it at all. He was beautiful and I loved him immediately. “Oh, Dad…” my youngest daughter stammered, tears beginning to form at the edge of her eyes as she scanned her brain for the most compelling argument that she could use to justify breaking her promise, to convince me that we should bring this cat home.

“Well, we’ll take this little pistol home with us, too,” I said. My youngest was shocked. She had won the argument before even making it.

The lady then led us up to the front desk to fill out the paper work while a male employee took the two cats to a back room to give them their initial shots. As we were filling out the paper work, the man suddenly screamed in the back. “Owww!”

The lady shook her head. “That cat is a real pistol,” she said again. The man soon emerged with both cats, and there was blood dripping from his fingers where the tabby had sunk a claw after being stabbed by the needle.

So I named him Pistol and it was just as I suspected. He was not mean, just frightened and scared. He is sweet and loving and in no way ever deserving of the purple tag of death. In time, because I felt so affectionate toward him, I began to call him “my leetil Peestol-yero!” in honor of the Mexican gunslingers of old.

And so, he is, "Pistol-Yero."

[G535]

What a lovely story, so nice to see cats finding good homes.

[louhirata]

I loved the story of Pistol-Yero! Simply most wonderful how he found a home!
The word "pistoleiro" in Portuguese means bang-bang man from the old movies! What really a name, so unusual for a kitti but with a meaning of his life!

He is a tabby: which color? Light and dark grey or orange? How old is he?
PT friends want to meat Pistol-yero! Have you got a pic?

[louhirata]

I am on vacation this month, so I decided to adventure on the sea with Rhay and Neko, ten days ago. The plan was to go in the morning and come back at noon.

We got in the car with two other friends to be able to take care of the two of them and drive at the same time. We got Rhay and Neko on the boxes with the opening to the back window of the car and hoped they didn't get too much sun. It was 7 am and the sun could not be seen yet, because it is summer schedule, which standood for 6 am.

(Some people told me I could have found sun solar filter for cats, but really it did not occur to me at the time. Now I know a pet shop that sells sun solar filter for them. Poor dears, took all the sun!!!)

The ride to the South Atlantic Ocean takes one hour and the road is very good, plain and straight. We were heading for a city at the beach that is call Atlantida, which stands nearby some other sea cities. In fact, it is an area by the coast with many beach cities.

Rhay and Neko were silent all the first half of the way. Them we made a stop, and gave them water and let them breath the already felt ocean smell.

Their nostrils moved fast and their heads were nervously moving trying to get out of the Sun... But the Sun is the Sun... so they sat very quiet and drunk some water.

We continue our ride 'til we got to Atlantida city and its beautiful beach... The sand was warming up and it was a little windy, with sand waves hissing on our feet by the beach...

Rhay and Neko felt the sand and seem to think it was not a good idea to move... they stated very quiet... Neko meow tremble low and I could hardly hear it because of the sound of the sea...

We put up a small tent and got under it. The wind lift our towels so, we had to seat upon it, and Neko fur was blowing with the wind, while I caressed Rhay...

Later we took them to the water and they wanted to stay out of it!!!! Scretched and almost bite me, Rhay that never did it! But I kept him on my lap and seat on the shallow waters of the waves and kept him tight...

I wet him a little bit with sprinkles and he meow in protest... So I took him back to the sand tent... and did the same with Neko, who also prefered the sands...

Neither of them wanted to have lunch or eat anything... we had to scream a bit because of the high sound of the waves, and felt the salty wind on our faces... They drunk water though...

The sea was talking aloud, we told them... Finally they ate a little bit of wet food, tuna taste, and pee on the sands far away.

Neko try to lick his fur but gave up... it must have been salty... And Rhay licked all his front paws after eating his late lunch...

Before the sun got down, we started to ride back home, and got Sunset on the road... Rhay and Neko slept all the way back...

At hime I gave them a good bath...

But I am sure they will never forget the roar of the sea and the sunny sands of Atlantida.

Lou