Tails from My Crypt. The Daily Doing's of a Cadaver Cat

Poor momma!

fluffywuffelkins — Tue, 13 Oct 2009 13:24:45 +0000

Yesterday Momma went out with a bunch of her friends to celebrate her birthday. Her friend came and picked her up. Momma said she was going to be drinking adult drinks that night and so it would be better if someone else drove her. Whatever. Sounds fine to me. I don’t really care because I wasn’t invited. Momma can be so rude sometimes.

Later that night, Momma came home and was acting all goofy. She was stumbling around the apartment and bumping into walls and the furniture and then she would laugh. She actually apologized to the end table for stubbing her toe on it.

The next morning, I heard Momma moaning in bed. Then, suddenly, she jumped out of bed and ran into the bathroom. I followed after her but before I got inside, I heard her making this awful sound. She was on the floor hunched over the toilet.

I looked at her and said, “Poor Momma! Are you having a furball? Did you eat some fur off of the carpeting? Sometimes I do and then I get furballs.”

What am I? A dog?

fluffywuffelkins — Tue, 13 Oct 2009 02:24:09 +0000

Momma really upset me the other day. It all started like this.

Once upon a time Momma was gathering her stuff together so that she could take a shower. I jumped up on top of the toilet to inspect her activities. And then! Out of nowhere! She insults me!

Momma: “Well hi there Gwennie. You gonna guard Momma while I take a shower?”

Me (and I’m very offended): “Guard? Guard? Did you just ask if I was going to guard you? What am I? A dog? I don’t guard. I’m not a dog! I’m management! I don’t guard, I supervise! Now get in the shower and make sure you clean your butt! And when you’re done, don’t forget to clean your teeth on the couch!”

A Game I Like to Play

fluffywuffelkins — Fri, 18 Sep 2009 02:21:28 +0000

Momma was in the bathroom washing her face. It’s part of her beauty ritual before she goes to work. First she takes a shower. Then she dries off, puts lotion on, and then clothes. And then, she washes her face, puts her makeup on and adds a spritz of perfume. She goes to an awful lot of trouble to look pretty considering that when she comes home from work she smells worse than my litter box.

Anyway, I pranced into the bathroom so that I could supervise momma performing her daily ritual. Momma saw me walking in and looked down at me.

“Where’s your collar,” she asked?

“I took it off.”

“Why,” Momma asked?

“I’m playing a game.”

Momma rolled her eyes.

“What game are you playing?”

“It’s called I took my collar off and hid it somewhere. Go find it. Ha ha!” Off I pranced into another room. I like this game. Momma and I play it a lot. She doesn’t know she’s playing it.

Sometimes Momma Goes to the Gym

fluffywuffelkins — Fri, 18 Sep 2009 02:16:20 +0000

One day, as I sat patiently waiting for Momma to walk up the stairs, I noticed something different about her breathing. When she walked through the door I noticed that she wasn’t in her dead people uniform. Instead, she was wearing her gym uniform. (They both smell bad. FYI) She was huffing and puffing as she entered the living room.

Normally I flop at her feet but this time I was a little scared to go near her. I followed her into the bed room and watched her flop face down onto the bed. I jumped up to be close to my Momma.

“Gwennie,” she huffed. “Momma feels awful.”

“What happened, Momma”

“Went to the gym…..bad idea…..elliptical machine tried to kill me.”

Silly Momma.

I climbed onto her back and began kneading her shoulders with my paws. Sometimes this makes Momma feel better. As I rubbed her shoulders, I leaned in real close to her ears.

“Momma,” I said softly. “Can I tell you something with out you getting mad at me?”

“Momma, I don’t think the elliptical machine actually tries to kill you. I think it’s Momma error.”

Momma started to snore. She was real tired. Poor Momma.

I leaned in to whisper one more thing. “Momma, if you die, can I pronounce you?”

More Belly Rubs Please!

fluffywuffelkins — Tue, 15 Sep 2009 03:04:18 +0000

Most days I’m pretty lonely when momma is at work. I have a sad, sad life. My mousey’s don’t play with me and jingle balls get stuck underneath the stereo cabinet. I have a rough life. Yesterday, I felt completely defeated, alone, neglected, abused, ignored and unloved. I hid under the bed and fell asleep.

But then, around 7 pm, I heard something. A familiar noise. A car I think. And then, my heart started to race because I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. And then! And then! I heard the jingling of car keys and I bolted out from underneath the bed because! Because! MOMMA’s HOME!

Momma came through the door lugging her big black bag that she calls a scene kit, along with her purse and her laptop. Momma takes everything she owns with her to work. She says it’s good to be prepared. Prepared for what? Armageddon? Momma’s silly.

I ran over to her. “Momma! Momma! You’re home! You’re home! Oh Momma! I missed you so much!”

I did a summersault on the floor. “Rub my belly! Rub my belly, Momma! Tell me it’s fluffy”

Momma tripped over me as she was walking through the door. It’s okay. I wasn’t hurt. She landed kind of funny though. She picked herself up and then reached down and rubbed my belly.

Momma: “Hi baby girl. Did you miss momma?”

Me: “Duh.” Somehow Momma escaped from me and I found myself chasing her through the apartment and into the bedroom.

“Momma, Momma! Did you see dead people today? You smell like you did. Guess what! Guess what! I saw three dead flies today! Isn’t that awesome Momma! Well, they weren’t dead when I first saw them but they are now! I’d show them to you but there in my belly. Ooh! Ooh! I think I’m gonna have a hairball later! I’ll show you then! Okay Momma! Okay!”

Momma reached down and picked up me. I clung tight to her, glad to finally have my momma home. I love my momma. Ick. I think the flies gave me indigestion. My tummy hurts. I pushed away from momma.

“Momma, put me down. I have to use the pan. Right now!”

The Stinky Kitchen

fluffywuffelkins — Wed, 09 Sep 2009 03:02:09 +0000

It was about three o’clock in the morning when I woke up to a stench in my apartment. Momma was sound asleep in bed. I got up, stretched and followed the scent into the kitchen. It was coming from under the sink where Momma keeps the trash can. I wanted to open the cupboard door to be certain but I couldn’t because there was a chair blocking the door shut. Momma’s idea of joke. It might keep me out of that cupboard but I can still open the other cupboard doors. After all, I am a multi-talented kitten extraordinaire.

I went back into the bedroom and began meowing at momma.

Me: Momma! Momma wake up!

There was no response so I went up to her face and slapped her with my paw. Still no response. Geeze! What’s it gonna take? I slapped her again. This time she pushed me away.

Momma: Quit it!

Me: But momma! The trash stinks!

She rolled over and began snoring. I’ve been meaning to talk to her about her snoring. It keeps me awake at night. Oh well. That was a problem for another night.

Ding! Bells went off! I know how to make Momma wake up! Hee hee. I’m smart! I stood up on my hind legs and began hitting at the picture that hangs above her head on the wall above her bed. That always wakes her up. She can’t stand it when I do that. Suddenly, Momma lept out of bed and grabbed me. Oh shit. I’m in trouble now.

Momma: That does it kitty! You are so outa here!

Me: No Momma! (I growled nipping at her arms as she moved toward the bedroom door) You don’t understand. The trash stinks! You need to take it out!

My efforts were apparently useless. Before I knew it, Momma had kicked me out of the bedroom and shut the door. I stood outside of her door howling, “Momma! The trash stinks!” My efforts were of no avail. Sadly I was forced to spend the remainder of the night sleeping on the couch right next to the stinky kitchen.

The next morning Momma got up, fed me and gave me fresh water (very important as I require only the freshest of both). And then, she left. She walked right out of the apartment and never took out the trash. Bad Momma! Bad! Bad! I was forced to hide from the growing stench so I spent the better part of my day sleeping under the bed. It seemed liked the safest place to be.

Later that night I heard Momma walk through the door. In fact, I’m pretty sure everyone on her floor heard her when she came home.

Momma: Oh God! It smells like decomp in here! Gwennie! Please tell me you’re still alive! Gwennie!

I could hear her looking for me but in all honesty, I wasn’t in that much of a hurry to greet her.

Momma: Flufflykins! Fluffywufflekins! Please come out so momma knows that smell isn’t you.

She finally located me underneath the bed.

Momma: Don’t scare me like that

Me: Serves you right for not taking out the trash.

She then went into the kitchen and quickly determined that the piece of chicken she refused me two nights earlier was the culprit. See, if she had fed that to me like I had insisted none of this ever would have happened.

Hello world!

fluffywuffelkins — Tue, 08 Sep 2009 03:18:42 +0000

My name is Gwendolynn Ann Marie Collins and I am a one year old cadaver cat. My sidekick is my mommy. She thought it would be funny if she gave me the username fluffywuffelkins. Oh the things I would do if I had opposable thumbs. She’s giggling now but just wait. She won’t think it’s so funny when I knock over the lamps later. Hee hee. I can get away with just about anything because I’m cute and I have a fluffly belly that people line up around the block to rub.

Anyway, as I said before I am a cadaver cat. I supervise my mommy who is a death investigator and while my stories may not seem as exciting as hers, I promise you there will be plenty of death-defying acts. Welcome to my world! I hope you enjoy it.

Gwennie