the jmeoww diaries: V.15

We recently returned from a long overdue vacation, AKA Tiffany's tour of the East Coast locales in which Justin once lived. From Boston to Maine to New Hampshire (and then to Mechanicville, NY for me because of course), we saw friends and family and some of the most beautiful lands in our country. But not one damn moose, which I am still peeved about. We did, however, hear elk breeding which is a story I will tell you one day over some beers.

Boston

The one and only FALL tree in New Hampshire.

Lake Winnipesaukee, NH

Glorious, yes? This past weekend we visited my family for the first time since the trip and they could not wait to hear....

...about how jmeoww handled herself during this vacation and our return.

Yes, her life is far more interesting than ours and we get it.

Leaving our precious feline child for longer than 6-hours is a daunting and emotional production like no other. My little sister was conveniently unable to take on meow-sitting duties, so we turned to jmeoww's other entrusted human — Paul. Paul is the hero who took on this task over our honeymoon last year. And because sometimes I need a good cackle, I saved the email he sent from that time and would like to gift you an excerpt:

"I went into the kitchen to get her food and while I was cleaning her dishes I could hear her hissing.  I'd look over and she'd perk up and meow when I saw her, then hiss again when we couldn't see each other. It was hilarious.

So I got the treats and the toys and walked over to her. Gave her a couple of treats and petted her, and she would purr, then meow, then purr, then hiss, then purr...she was SO FUNNY."

FUNNY INDEED. And because Paul is a saint and fully aware of the commitment involved, he agreed to watch her again this trip. We only heard from him once (although I did make Justin check-in several times for my benefit), and his text said:

How kind of Justin to LOL prior to asking Paul is he was okay. I just kept saying, SHE IS SO EMBARRASSING. At this point I assumed that she had accepted her new life as a parentless cat living in a one-bedroom apartment with appliances she could never operate and clothing that would never fit her. But at least we left a light on. Oh, and the A/C because thank you San Diego for reaching temperatures that would surely cause an indoor cat to implode. And because she doesn't have thumbs, she HAD to depend on Paul for food but also she had to make sure that he didn't steal it. Which is WHY she overreacted, obviously. Who knows when her next meal would have been! 

Justin returned home three days earlier than I did (because, Mechanicville!) so he dealt with most of the overly-clingy animal recovering from her brief stint as an orphan. He reported that there was a lot of very loud meowing and a lot of staring at the door waiting for me to walk through.

LIKE SO.

I returned on Monday afternoon while Justin was still at work. Basically it was like she didn't believe I was home. I had to wake her up from her daytime resting place underneath the bed, and then she just stared at me. Clearly I must be dreaming! But then. Then she smelled the OTHER CATS on my suitcase and continued to smell every part of all the things until she was certain they weren't with me. It was only then that I was granted a very brief yet very drool-filled cuddle session. 

While she most certainly has her asshole moments, we can see a big difference in the recovery time after these earth-shattering events. But let's not discuss what happens when it rains. Because if you wanted to hear about it at 7:15 a.m. on a Sunday morning, she would be happy to tell you ALL about it. 

Now, if you have questions about the HUMANS' vacation, please let me know!

the jmeoww diaries: V.14

I know you all are wondering about Justin and I and the wedding and everything that has happened since. But I really know that anything that has happened in our lives is far less interesting than anything that has happened in hers...

It's totally okay, I accept that you all are here for her. While she did not actually make it to the wedding, she was there in spirit in the form of cardboard cutouts at the photobooth. She was a hit, as always.

Probably the next biggest thing to her unofficial marriage to Justin was moving to a new apartment. The entire process of finding a place, packing, moving, and unpacking is incredibly stressful for the humans. But for the meoww, she has her own story to tell.

Justin and I both had requirements for our new apartment. Must have a washer and dryer. Must have A/C. Must feel like a castle. And so on. But the one qualifier that got us the oddest looks from the apartment managers was an enclosed patio on the second floor. For our cat. A CATIO, if you will. Imagine us telling eight different apartment managers that their patio/balcony was in fact not good enough for our cat. We knew that for our sanity and hers, she needed to go outside in a safe, enclosed space. She had spent nearly three years expending pent up energy and anger out on that patio and also creeping out the neighbors. She LOVED that patio. And the thought of taking that away from her made us feel like terrible humans. So our new place would have to have a catio.

Well, turns out human needs trumped hers for once and she did not get the perfect catio. There is a small balcony, but it is concrete rather than fencing or railing and we imagined we could make it work. We will build a weather-proof cat tower that is tall enough for her to see the world! We will make this work and feel like less terrible humans!

But we haven't needed to build said dangerous cat tower because this glorious apartment has one thing that our old place didn't have for her: WINDOWS. The cave that we previously lived in had a sliding glass door and two bedroom windows that were blocked by our TV and dresser. But this castle? ALL THE WINDOWS. She can see the world from the air-conditioned indoors and peep on the neighbors just fine! Windows completely eliminated the need for the actual outside world. And us humans could feel a little less guilty.

The one tiny hangup with this perfect situation? Her fatass didn't know how to jump up on windowsills. Three months later, you guys, she still takes a spill every now and then and I die. Just die. Her intial attempts at getting up on the windowsill involved jumping straight up and using her claws to cling on to the ledge and just hang there while I scrambled to try to get a photo. Which was great for the new coat of paint. Then she learned she needed to launch all 14-pounds of her bad self up and onto the ledge but at the right speed as to not slam her face into the glass. I TRIED TO FILM IT, I DID. It was quite possibly my favorite part of moving. Jmeoww learning how to use windowsills, who would've thought.

Justin just discovered this picture on his phone and I can't stop cackling about it. It could not be more perfect.

To ease her troubles a bit her non-legal husband Justin decided to purchase yet ANOTHER piece of cat furniture which he said he would never have in his home. A nearly four foot tower that is her vessel of relaxation but also used for creeping on the neighbors. You guys I swear 6 nights a week she is up in the tower either watching us or watching the neighbors. I legitimately thought the neighbors were going to complain because she just. sits. there. And she doesn't just sit. She loooooounges. Full meow relaxation in her queen tower. Limbs poking out of the climbing hole, leg stretched out over the side. Sometimes she clings to the edge and looks down like she has never been up that high ever. And every now and then she gets in an epic battle with her tail or the tower or both. And we will pause the TV to watch it play out, because marriage.

So basically, jmeoww's life has been pretty darn great. Her only complaint is that we aren't in the same room with her at all times, and also where are the kibbles?

Until next time, jmeoww fans!

the jmeoww diaries V.7

I had a few silly JMEOWW anecdotes to share with you for this month's edition of JMD. The time I locked her outside for 3 seconds and she rammed full-speed into the screen door. The love affair with the balloon. The time we got woken up by this:

But then something happened this weekend. As Justin put it, the MEOWWPOCALYPSE happened. And you guys, it really did.

Saturday I loaded up the queen beast for a quick trip to the vet for a nail trim and a shot. Simple, right? I didn't make Justin accompany me because I totally had this under control. And he had a podcast to record. Totally got this.

The visit seemed to be taking a bit long, but I knew that they were quite busy and I wasn't in a hurry so I didn't mind. About 45 minutes later the vet tech returns my animal to me and says the phrase I had always feared.

"We might want to consider sedatives for her next visit."

And then I died. I always joke about her terrorizing and attempting to murder the vet techs, but when it ACTUALLY happens? Oh dear lord, I just died.

"Oh, and she pooped back there and wouldn't let us clean her."

LOVELY. So I head home, shell-shocked shitass cat in tow and come up with a game plan. Justin is locked in the bedroom, remember. So this is a solo project. JMEOWW shitass cleaning solo project. It can't be that hard...Totally got this.

I position the carrier so she can't bolt, and grab a few of the cat wipes that I have on hand. I open the carrier, and she is so ready for this. And by ready for this I mean she is ready to murder my fucking face off. I wrestle her for a few minutes trying to clean her shitass. She is making the most awful sounds I've ever heard an animal make, like I am tearing her skin off and in fact not trying to clean her shitass. I'm trying to calm her down and at the same time totally having a nervous breakdown and trying not to be too loud because I don't think that Justin wanted howling cats and screaming Tiffany in the background of his podcast.

After about 6 minutes that felt like 6 hours, I gave up. I got most of the shitass taken care of and I couldn't do it any more. I was covered in cat hair. She was howling like I was raping her. I am so not a raper. So I let her go and then I had a full emotional breakdown. I had just wrestled my cat to clean her shitass, okay? I think the overwhelming guilt of these "traumatic" trips to the vet and the actual having to wipe cat shit off of her tail was just too much.

I watched in horror as she cleaned herself and made a mental note not to play face-boops for at least 2 days. When Justin finally emerged from the bedroom 40 minutes later, he found me bundled up on the couch with my tear-stained face like I had just returned from war-torn Syria. He asked me what happened and I just shook my head and said, "I'm not ready to talk about it yet."

So as I sobbingly finished my story, Justin said my third-least favorite phrase I would hear on that day.

"We have to give her a bath."

Absolutely not. She has had the worst day of her meowwily existence and you want me to make it worse?

But, he was right. There was probably still shitass to deal with and so we did. She survived the bath and then retreated to her clubhouse for the remainder of the day. And I was completely emotionally drained for the rest of the day. I tried to give her a treat a few days later and she ran and hid from me because she is completely traumatized for the rest of her life. I can't help but imagine her screaming, "I WIPE MY OWN ASS!"

The moral of this month's installment of The JMEOWW Diaries? We all need sedatives, sometimes. Even the meowws.

The jmeoww Diaries V.6

Well hello there, fans of the one and only Miss Meoww! It has been far too long since our last JMD, and for that your highness apologizes (although unsincerely). You see, she has been extremely busy settling in to her new home with her boyfriend and developing a daily routine much like any other obsessive compulsive cat.

Her day begins when I wake up, or sometimes when she chooses to wake me up two hours early. Not for food though, just to say hello and get some early morning cuddles that end with her biting my hand off. When I head to the kitchen to start coffee, she is usually still in her bed and she meows at me to pet her. So I do and then she gets up and chases me into the kitchen while biting my ankles.

There was a time when you couldn't even touch her while
she was in bed. PERSONAL SPACE, BITCHES.

Her next job is to wait for me outside the bathroom door while I shower. Once I am done showering, she can go back to sleeping under the couch until it is time for Justin to be woken up.

<insert 8-10 hours of sleeping>

I usually get home from work first and wake her up. She slowly trots out to greet me and falls at my feet for me to pet her. You do not walk any farther into the apartment until this has happened or it ruins her night. When our boyfriend gets home she runs to the door and falls at his feet for pets. Yes, he greets her first. Which I am okay with because I'm not really looking to lay on the floor at his feet by the door. Yet.

And then playtime begins. In her tiny kitty brain. While we are trying to do stupid human things like go to the gym or cook dinner or clean IT IS PLAYTIME CAN'T YOU HEAR ME MAKING ALL OF THESE NOISES?

Once she realizes that human things must be done, she settles in to hovercat position on the couch unless she hears a cheese bag open. Holy shit, do not loudly open any type of plastic bag because IS THAT CHEESE AND CAN I HAVE SOME? You will never hear a louder meow than when shreddy cheese is being opened. Or bags that sound like shreddy cheese. Or even say that word cheese and her fatass comes running. It's my new favorite thing.

When we sit down to eat (yes, on the couch) it is playtime YAY! While we eat, she sits in the corner by the front door and whines and smacks her tail against the wall to signal that it is playtime because you guys come one you've been home for 45 minutes and we haven't played not even once! Until we are done eating, she will either pout in the corner or jump on the coffee table and knock down/touch all the things. That remote? ON THE FLOOR HOW FUNNY!

When we, the humans, decide that it is playtime (or she has provoked Justin enough by running at him at full speed or attacking his feet) total chaos ensues. At the sound of one of us thinking about picking up the laser pointer, this happens:

This laser pointer situation is out of control, you guys, and I'm not sure it is healthy at all. She is a textbook addict. When we finish playing laser and set it on the coffee table, she lays with her paws on it. In real life.

And speaking of addictions, thanks to some fine smuggling by Michelle we have the nips back in our house. When we aren't feeling up to entertaining a cat for 3 hours straight, we bust out the nips and it takes care of life for us. Most of the time she will chill out after running around at full speed. Other times she doesn't stop running around, ever and we have to pull an intervention and remove the nips from her environment.

Between her meticulous daily schedule, OCD, and addictive personality the JMEOWW has been quit busy lately. In general, I feel like since moving in with her boyfriend she has been less stabby. But she is so much more of a needy girlfriend than I am and for that I am grateful. Thanks for making me look good, clingermeoww.

Oh, and she played some Trivial Pursuit.

The JMEOWW Diaries V.4

Linking up for Jmeoww's life lately! Just kidding, but how great would that be. And by great I mean totally batshit insane.

• The Chronicles of Narnia & Empire State Building. Yes, I've started naming her behaviors. Because it entertains me at 11 pm when I should be sleeping but am watching her adventures on my bed. I realize how that statement sounds, but when I am in bed reading she has the best adventures. Much like how a toddler starts using their imagination, I firmly believe that J has started using hers. She will slowly go under the sheet and then spend like 10 minutes wandering around all crouched down. When she pokes her head out she has this look on her face like she just discovered the meaning of life. She alternates between this, and clinging to the corner of the bed and staring down. Like it is the highest bed ever made and she will die if she jumps. This is why I can't finish a book. It's hysterical.

• Kousin Khloe. My sister has gone full cat-lady. If she wasn't so busy being a cat lady, I'm sure she would blog about it. She's worse than me, if you can imagine that. So when I invited Brittany over for taco tuesday, she sends me this text message:

"I can haz tacos too?"

Like I can say no to that! I warned her of potential murder, but much like Kim Kardashian, Brittany does not travel without Skhloe. So J met her kousin. Which led to hours of hissing all of the hisses and very aggressive crouching. One would think it would get tiring being an asshole all of the time. Khloe touched all J's things and had the best night of her life, and I even sent her home with a toy. I'm an asshole, I know. J only likes one toy anyways, which leads us to...

• Lady. Lady. Mom. Laser. Mom? Please. Now. OMG. As soon as I walk in the door. No. As soon as I unlock the gate to get into my complex, it begins. The meowing. And meowing. So many meows. You have food. You have water. You have clean litter. Okay, FINE. Let's play catch the red dot that you will never ever catch and now your tiny brain is fried from thoughts of ever doing so. Even if it makes you pant because you are fat and it is one million degrees in my apartment. Which leads to me having a panic attack because I think you are dying. No really, this is my favorite game. We should play it ALL NIGHT!

The dying face. I can't stand it.

and finally...

• Bathtime! The animal that hates and attacks everything in the entire world loves the bath. Maybe not loves, but tolerates. What kind of insane bitch bathes her cat? This one, because said cat and said insane bitch cannot get rid of the fleas. Advantage, exterminator, obsessive vacuuming and sheet washing, foggers, and traps. We've tried it all. Anyways, the meoww does not try to kill me in the bath and I think that is just neat. Once I do let her out though, she goes and hides. Last time I found her on top of the refrigerator which is always shocking, but awfully hilarious.

Yes, my fridge is yellow.

And there you have it, faithful JMEOWW fans. Another monthly glimpse into the life of the world's most insane, and overanalyzed cat. Be sure to check back next month for the Halloween edition of JMD!

Black is Beautiful.

So. Did you know it is "Adopt-a-Less-Adoptable Pet" week? Now just what does that mean?

What. In. The. Hell.

Now, I realize that for many reasons my beloved animal is less desirable than other animals but I would've never thought it was because of her fur color!

Okay, wait. Let's go back in time. When I was adopting Le Meoww from her tiny little feral litter, I wanted the fuzzy gray runt. But my bestie so kindly talked me into getting TWO UNDERAGE KITTENS. All I kept saying was I don't want a black cat. But I walked out of there with a fuzzy gray runt (moment of silence for the good doctor) and a feisty shiny black kitten. And then one of them pooped in the box and then the other one did and I wanted to throw them out the window.

After we lost the good doctor to murder tiny-meoww-illness, I took Miss J to the vet. They had asked me her details over the phone so when we arrived, the vet techs died from her cute and said, Awww she's not ugly at all for a black kitten! And like a defensive mother I was like, what the fuck are you bitches talking about? Don't you dare talk about my baby like that!

Maybe she had the crazy eyes...but I wouldn't call her ugly.

Anyways, I'm not sure if there was a real point to this post. Beyond the fact that this ad campaign sent me into a fit of giggles that spiraled for hours on end. Which is the opposite of what was supposed to happen.

ps - I just realized that maybe people don't want black cats because of bad luck. To that I say grow-up, magic-believers.

pps - If they would market the one-eyed cats as "Pirates," I'm sure they would have better luck.

ppps - I'm not completely heartless. I would adopt some of these in an instant if I could. Except for the olds because who wants one of those! (totally kidding...)

The JMEOWW diaries: SPECIAL EDITION

The Divine Miss Meoww is turning one (sometime I think, possibly this week, I'm not sure because she was feral...)! Because Justin wouldn't let me buy her a tiny hat and because cats actually can't taste sweet flavors, we are celebrating with shredded cheese and a laser pointer. He also convinced me that a party would be a complete nightmare for her because she hates people.

In one year she has accomplished SO much. She has: possibly killed her brother and allegedly her mother, ruined Christmas, peed her pants, set the world hissing record, made ZERO friends (but two boyfriends!), grown a fupa, gotten fleas three times, and has probably inspired an entire generation to NOT obtain a cat. Now if only she could catch that fucking red dot she would be the happiest meoww alive.

The face of an ANGEL.

She is also wondering why my
forehead looks so large.

We've come so far. But not really.

The JMEOWW diaries V.3

One time JMEOWW peed her pants.

Wait. What? Here's the thing. The meoww has been quite well-behaved lately. Well-behaved meaning I haven't lost any blood lately. She also hasn't attracted any more fleas. But she has attracted the neighbors' cat, which is now her second boyfriend (Justin will always be her first love. It's disgusting). Since she can't go outside (yet), they lay on opposite sides of the screen door like fucking Romeo & Juliet. We also started slowly acclimating her to the great outdoors by letting her spend a few minutes on the patio. Her tiny brain exploded. It was adorable, and then I had a panic attack imagining her jumping off the balcony and getting hit by a car. So indoors we went. Baby steps. For both of us.

HAVE YOU SEEN THIS FUCKING LEAF? *

Because her antics have been limited, I thought I would tell an old story. About the time she peed her pants. The J had a deep love for BAGS and I came home one day with a paper bag with handles. I put away my purchases and gave her the bag to play with. And then said bag tried to murder her.

Not the night in question. This was way before the murder attempt.

What happened next was a blur of movement and laughter that would last for hours. Jenna  and I were sitting on my couch probably watching 20/20 on TLC when out of nowhere, a paper bag comes running into the living room at speeds only previously achieved by Usain Bolt. And then it went back in the bedroom. And then flashed through the living room way into the kitchen. And we were laughing so hard we couldn't do anything to stop it. Which probably would've made me an accomplice to the murder.

When the bag finally stopped running, I ran over to comfort J who was the most terrified I've ever seen an animal. She was breathing rapidly, all puffed out and hunkered down hissing her life away. I grabbed the bag to cut the handles off so she would never have to suffer such entanglement again and the bag was wet. And then I looked around. The carpet was wet. Dear god, my cat had pissed herself from fear.

This realization only made the laughing worse which scared her more and then it just spiraled into a pee-filled laughterfest. Once she calmed down I was able to clean her peepants and comfort her while stiffling my giggles.

Paper bags are no longer allowed in the house of meoww. They are a threat to meowws worldwide and should probably be outlawed due to their murderous nature.

*JMEOWW thinks in caps-lock and would probably swear a lot.

Photo 411 linkup!

The lovely Erin of Shades of Gray and a Pinch of Pink is hosting a really fun photo linkup and I love me some photos. I am taking this opportunity to make a fool of myself because some of the ones I found are hilarious. Let's get to the shitshow!

#1 My Little Tyke Self

If you've ever wondered if the "bitchface" was a lifelong thing, here is your proof. And no, I sure didn't have enough hair for a ponytail until I was 4-years old. Thanks a lot, genetics.

#2 My High School Self

Post braces shot. Can you tell I was excited? And who in the hell ever let me cut or dye my hair?!? It hasn't looked like this in years!

#3 My College Self

This is the part of the photo tour in which I logged into my photobucket account that I haven't used since MySpace days and then I peed my pants. Because I was such a piece of work, I'm giving you two photos as my punishment for acting like such an asshole.

You guys, I legitimately wore those sunglasses out in public. Not to mention, at night. And then on the right we have the Emo Tiffany Phase which was awesome. This was not only when I discovered emo music, but also antidepressants. Thanks for the memories, 2005.

#4 My Right Now Self

Drunk, silly, and happy is how you will find me most of the time now (okay maybe not drunk most of the time, that actually sounded pretty awful). I've been having my moments of anxiety and stress, but overall you will find me giggling and being a total dumbass in a good way. Happy Tiffany is an even weirder Tiffany and you know what, I like it! I also really like my eyeshadow in this picture.

#5 My Furry Friend

Oddly enough I know someone who is actually a furry and I thought about posting his picture but I didn't want to give you all nightmares. Luckily, Erin clarified to use a PET so be sure to thank her for that. This bitch needs no introduction. Here she is blocking my access to food. She is slowly killing me.

#6 My Manly Friend

I didn't ask for his approval for this photo but I don't care because I love it. SO THERE. This be the man that makes me smile. So much. I cancelled my cable subscription to save some money so I was missing out on a lot of the Olympics which I obsess over. And you know what this guy did? He bought me an antenna so I could get NBC to watch the Olympics. Now if he could only assassinate the commentators...

#7 Where I Once Lived

Chino, California y'all. Okay, this is actually Chino Hills which is considerably nicer than regular Chino where I grew up and where my parents still live and one time their neighbors had a chicken coop in the backyard. In the suburbs. On a non-smoggy day we do have a lovely view of the San Bernadino Mountains, which Chino and the rest of the Inland Empire sit below. It's not an awful place like The OC made it out to be.

Image via chinohillsestates.com

#8 Where I Live Now

University Heights neighborhood of San Diego, California. How cute is that sign? On both sides there is an ostrich, which is apparently our city mascot which is wonderful because one time I dressed up as an ostrich. I LOVE this little neighborhood. I am a block away from the main strip which is home to a liquor store with one of the best beer selections in San Diego, an awesome bar with one of the best beer selections in San Diego, a fancy little cocktail bar, and my favorite dive bar in the entire world.

#9 What I Love

I love this picture and moments like this. It explains everything that is wrong but yet so right with my family and friends.

#10 What I Miss

These little monsters (nephew & niece) and my godchild. Life has been incredibly busy and isn't letting up any time soon. I miss having so much extra time to spend with the kiddos. But that makes the times I do get to see them even more special.

The JMEOWW diaries V.2

Justin has been in JMEOWW's life since she was just a tiny terror. In fact, the night we met they also met and I'm pretty sure that is when she fell in love. Once when he was leaving my apartment on not so good terms, he said goodbye to her and she laid down on his feet. Smooth move, J! Why didn't I think of that? Okay, maybe it crossed my mind once or twice.

Needless to say, she has been quite thrilled that he is around more and more now. Except for the part where he took her spot in the bed. You see, my beloved cat is a tiny bit territorial. She had her very own pillow that she slept on every night. It also happened to be my tempurpedic pillow but the comfort of my neck is not nearly important as hers. She would literally come to bed every night with me and get cozy on her pillow. If I stayed up a little later to read in bed, she would stretch her little paws out and tap me on the cheek which I took as a demand to shut off the light so she could get her beauty sleep. I wish I was kidding.

For the Motherland.

We initially tried locking her out of the bedroom but she protested quite loudly and kept me up half of the night. Justin suggested slowly moving the pillow to the end of the bed, and then eventually to the floor. In the animal training world this is known as "successive approximations" to "shape" her behavior. I know this shit. The next night I moved the pillow down the bed a foot or so. And she slept ON MY CHEST. No one puts JMEOWW on the floor. 

I photographed this failure to send to him, which led to one of my favorite conversations of all time:

me: She looks like Stalin in that picture.
him: She does.
me: I wonder if there's any relation.
him:....to?
me: STALIN. Both socipaths. Murderers. Russian. So much in common.
him: She's probably a marxist.
me: Most likely.

Over the course of the past few weeks she has gotten much better at sleeping like a normal animal either on the floor or between us in bed like a human child. There is the occasional night where she sits on Justin's chest and stares at him in order to assert her dominance. Or to seduce him. It's hard to tell the difference with her. 

She can't seem to keep her legs closed.

The JMEOWW Diaries V.1

This may have caused some of the behavioral issues.

World, meet the JMEOWW. Why yes, I did name my kitten after JWOWW. It was funny at the time. I have been paying for it ever since. 

You see, J (or The Meoww as she is also commonly referred to) isn't just any cat. She came from humble beginnings (meaning, feral) and lost her mother at too young of an age. She also lost her brother that I had chosen to raise as well. By "lost" I mean we think she murdered him. The loss of Doogie Meowser, M.D. will forever be one of the greatest mysteries in our lives. So needless to say, homegirl has some issues.

My decision to get a kitten was not made lightly. Especially since at the time I was single and I didn't want to hear everyone's shit about becoming a crazy cat lady. I NEVER intended to be one of "those people." But you guys, I so am. And it's not because of the cute things that she does. It's because if I don't talk about the havoc she causes in my life, the trauma, the injuries, I will hold it all inside and end up in therapy. She is the weirdest animal I've ever known. Do I love her dearly? Absolutely. Is she completely dominate over me to the point in which she knows I am sometimes afraid of her? Yes. Have I thought about giving her xanax? Several times. We are currently testing a pheromone calming collar and I'm not sure how well it's working. She's been slightly less vocal and a bit less violent. I'd like her to be at a level of ZERO VIOLENCE. So maybe more collars. And a hat. A tiny, calming hat. My point is, I will be telling stories of The Meoww here. They are often too hilarious not to share.

We should've seen the warning signs from a young age.

Aliases: J, The Meoww, JJ

DOB: August 28th, 2011
Place of Birth: An abandoned house in the rough streets of La Mesa, California
Relatives: Deceased (cause unknown...)
Likes: Fuzzy blankie, tempurpedic pillow, OCTOPUS! magnet, the taste of blood
Dislikes: You, the vaccuum, phones, rational thought
Hobbies: Meowing, chasing ankles, attacking the TV, hoarding trash

MINE! Trash and other various treasures under my bed.