Happy Hallow-meowi!

This time of year has become bittersweet, as I am severely missing my Mr. Ted E. Bear , because I’m bat shit crazy enough to dress pussies up in costume. And we’d have been in costume today. In an ode to the fur baby that I may as well have birthed myself, here are a few of my past faves.

Since Tedstar was beyond high maintenance (just like his mama) he was immune to catnip – the magic in which I thought would work to ease him into costumes. Instead, turns out a sniff of wine worked just as fine (again with the birthing thing).

Ahh….relaxing vino.

We first got into the idea of Halloween costuming after seeing Ted’s cousin, Gunner, in a bee’s outfit.

I mean c’mon, doesn’t he look cozzzzzeee?

They immediately became twinsies much to Ted’s dismay.

FOR FUCKING REAL?

Even though the Bear didn’t last long enough for a night full of Halloween thrills, I was happy with the outcome.

Ted, not so much.

Buzzed out.

The following year, Teddy Krueger and I not only acquired a new mini manse but also a partner in crime for him – New Cat. The idea of wrapping my arms around two costumed cats didn’t seem like a huge feat until I tried.

Fuck you. Fuck these masks. Fuck being your cat.

Turns out, Ted was used to being the star of the show and I’m pretty sure he pushed New Cat out of the shot.

Only room for one star. Beat it.

As always, the Bear was right. We made such a dashing duo.

Tedstar shining bright.

The following year I was racking my brain as to what Baby Bear and I could be…and then, Miley Cyrus inappropriately grinded on Robin Thicke’s thighs at the MTV Video Music Awards. Voila!

My favorite Halloween photo ever was captured (mind you, this was a one handed selfie – yeah, I have MAD skills). Thank you for your slightly bananas year, Miley.

The photoshoot was one helluva shit show , as purrfecting this pic took 4,791 tries but it was waaaaaaay worth the outcome.

Our last Halloween together, we went as the ultimate Star Wars duo (or at least the duo of costumes I could find – mine was an XL dog’s outfit).

It’s too soon to tell which of my fabulous foursome of current pussies will come to my costume rescue next year.

But I doubt any of them will let me get as handsy as Ted did. While I miss him something terrible, the memories of Halloween’s past are making me smile.

We so would have been Neegan and Rick from The Walking Dead this year.

Rest in peace Baby Bear.

CBXB

 

 

 

My Billion Dollar Pussy

Who knew you could buy a knight in shining armor?

He refuses to wear the armor.

This is a busted ass version of a fairy tale (what other version would you expect from me?), where I’m not the queen. That role is of course, has been occupied by His Royal Highness Teddy Bear ever since I rescued his ass seven years ago. I’ve happily played the role of loyal servant (and I still do) however, the perils of life turned me into a version of Humpty Dumpty…. one that weebles, wobbles and falls the fuck down (typically face first).

Me speedy recovery remedy after a fall.

While I’m the damsel in distress, my feline has caused me more torment as he’s decided to test the waters of almost every single ailment known to catkind while I was trying to trudge through the forest of life, getting us into some semblance of a kingdom. Even though his dramatic ailments added to my worry, he pulled the fuck through every time. Just like a knight in shining armour.

Just scaring mom for shits and giggles.

I couldn’t love my cat Teddy Bear more than if I birthed him from my own loins (but let’s be real, I’d pay a surrogate because ew, pain) and I would take a bullet the size of Donald Trump’s ego to save his furry life. Although over the years, the amount of cold hard cash I’ve shelled out to keep the love of my life alive and kickin’ rivals the amount NASA spends to put an astronaut on the moon. But it’s worth every fucking penny.

Like the start of many fairy tales, ours was love at first meow. Never mind the fact that he had an upper respiratory infection and ringworm due to being crammed in a one-bedroom apartment of 30 other felines before he was rescued (save your fucking jokes about this being me one day for later, please and thanks). Being such a trashtacular high maintenance gal myself, it felt nothing other than natural that this soon-to-be drama king chose me as his human soulmate.

Forced Soulmates.

After His Majesty’s ringworm and respiratory infection subsided, we learned that he had a food allergy to chicken (through several visits to the vet) as he would develop what basically looked like kitty chicken pox. The little red dots would scab over and Tedstar got to wear a cone, which ever pet owner knows is the best time ever.

The most pissed off cone head on the planet.

All the feels about the cone, complete with puke.

So I received a prescription card to purchase $80 per bag cat food that’s a mixture of peas and duck. Maybe I should have known when I walked into the kitchen one day and saw this…

Bitch Peas

Forcing Ted to be my bestie took a solid two years, as he was skiddish, nervous and full of anxiety due to the lack of human contact while he was one of 29 others the first year of his life. But one miraculous day, my shy little pussy morphed into a full on stalker. I couldn’t sit (and still can’t) down for 15 seconds without him creeping onto my lap or darting like a figure skater through my legs while I tried to walk or wanting to partake in chores as he sat on my hip (mostly pouring Skinny Pirates and applying lipstick) but he does love to assist…

…with laundry…

…with dishwasher loading…

…and unloading…

…and letting me know when the shitter’s full.

He even started presenting me with lavish gifts only a pussy could deliver to his mother.

Prancing in one night with a cardinal in his mouth while I was relaxing in the bath.

He proudly corralled tampons like John Wayne did cowboys.

Once, he even tried to reenact scenes from my favorite crime show, Forensic Files, by creating an outline of his body in a bush, as he misjudged it being a solid surface.

Forensic feline body outline.

As life tends to twist and turn, shit hit the fan after our first three years together. I went through what might as well have been a divorce, losing a long-term relationship, my house, my job AND getting to move in with my parents all in the same week.

WHAT. THE. ACTUAL. FUCK.

Trying to get back up on my own paws, I moved four times in three years. During this tumultuous time in life, Ted remained steadfast by my side. Although he continued to be high maintenance as fuck, making his mother stress to the max about her sidekick literally kicking the bucket. Among his many ailments:

Kitty Celiac Disease which forces me to feed my cat rather than myself the week his food runs out.

Fancy fucking feast.

Bi-yearly upper respiratory infections that always allow us a road trip to the vet.

Kitty colds suck.

And often require overnight stays for fluids.

Skin sensitivity at the most random times of the year.

Also, requiring visits to the vet, along with medication.

In more than one place, at different times naturally.

Resting bitch face.

No cost for me.

Motion sickness that was a super fun thing to discover.

The utmost dignity for the unattractive regurgitating of food in his mother’s lap.

A case of curiosity as he went missing from the mini manse for 24 hours and I spent my last dime making color copies and plastering car windshields in my apartment complex.

Every. single. car. But worth the $300, as he was found.

Fleas…after being outside one time in his entire life. It was like he had a one night stand….with fucking fleas.

This dip was fun before a trip to the vet.

Inflammatory Bowel Disease that took three weeks to uncover through exploratory surgery, endless testing and finally the right medications.

The gift that keeps on giving.

Congestive heart failure brought on by the steroid medications he was put on for Inflammatory Bowel Disease.

Which also took weeks of fun in the kitty ICU to uncover.

He’s been living with congestive heart failure for over a year now, which requires five medications daily, that I shove down his throat in a ball of cheese.

My own version of Walter White’s lab.

We single-handedly keep our veterinary’s lights on, where Ted is a motherfucking celebrity. He is their fave patient (most likely because we pay their mortgage bills).

Ted with his loyal and loving vet tech, Danielle.

Why go this far for my baby? Why the fuck wouldn’t I?

In the last two years, I’ve lost a career I’d spent years building, I lost the type of immediate family I thought would never be shaken, I lost friends who chose sides, I lost emotional, mental and financial stability I thought I’d created for myself. And then, I was raped. So this cat (and I want to punch people in the throat who say “it’s just a cat”), is – and has been my knight in shining armor.

Sometimes a smothering knight in shining armor.

He greets me at the door daily. He eats, shits, commands all of the attention, helps me put my make-up on every morning, sunbathes on his terrace daily, sleeps on my chest, demands the food in his martini glass be filled to the brim so as not to strain his neck, enjoys an occassional glass of wine (kidding…kind of…I mean he is my cat).

This little love has put up with his big hearted mother and accepted the siblings introduced – who KNOW the pecking order of the mini manse. It’s like the seas part and Ted’s fucking Moses when any of my other four fur balls are on my lap and the Bear decides he’d like to sit there instead.

My pussy posse.

Adding to the brood just made the love grown. And animal rescuing always begs the question…who rescued whom?

Currently his home on my chest remains the same when I’m flat on my back. Although now, due to his congestive heart failure,  he’s like a sprinkler system, as every time he exhales through his nose, my face gets a hydrating snot mist (I should probably bottle this up and sell it). It’s even more adorable when I’m yawning and he occasionally sneezes into my mouth. It’s like a snot shot.

#relationship goals

We’ve kept one another going during the shit show of our lives over the past several years. I seriously look this pussy in the face (and you know you’re not supposed to do that because cats can see into your soul but let’s be real, mine’s still dark and twisty so there’s no harm done) and instruct him to hang on as long as possible.

You go, I go.

Thing is, without the constant companionship and unconditional love of the bitchiest feline on the planet, I may have ceased my emotional fight. Sound crazy? I don’t give a fuck. This pussy and I have been through the good, the bad, the ugly and the worst.

Shoulders to lean on.

From all of my family and all of my friends, Teddy’s lead my army in putting this busted ass version of Humpty Dumpty back together again. And while I may be trying to pay off pussy debt well into my golden years, he’s worth every goddamn penny.

He sure as shit knows it, too.

Our goodbyes in the morning on my way out the mini manse to work go something like this, “I love you Baby Bear. Don’t go dying on me.”

I’m going no where…you’ve purchased me an additional 46 lives.

Phew.

I think I’ve earned a bumper sticker that reads “My fur kid costs just as much as your human spawn.” Because there’s no one else in life I would rather have in the driver’s seat with me.

All aboard for the shit show.

Cheers!

CBXB

CBXB!

 

 

 

Master of the Mini Manse

It seems just like yesterday that I welcomed the furball love of my life Teddy Bear into my mini manse.

After the first feline object of my affection, Nicodeamus passed away (and I truly thought I would die of a broken heart), I laid eyes on Ted via the Nashville Cat Rescue’s website.  He’d been saved from a one bedroom apartment full of 30 cats (I thought I was a hoarder) and when I went to take a look at that sweet little face, it was love at first meow.

Me and my garfield

Instantly wrapped around his paw.

Upon bringing TB home, I had a partially screened in porch.  My new little prince had such a sweet, timid demeanor I allowed him to relax on the porch alone, taking in his new surroundings.

Soaking up the sun

Soaking up the sun.

After a few months, Tedstar suddenly came out of his meek shell, morphing into a tiny lion, deciding that he was King of the Jungle Porch. One evening while I was letting Calgon take me away in a bubble bath, His Royal Highness ‘presented’ me with a beautiful, live cardinal fidgeting around in his mouth.

Feathers flew.

Feathers flew.

I screamed bloody murder at the horror of seeing a blinking bird in the jaws of my supposedly shy Teddy Bear. Then I thought my poor pussy’s muzzle was going to break because his mouth was open so wide. I stood there naked, sopping wet with trauma tears (because I didn’t want to have to feed Ted through a straw the rest of his life due to breaking his face trying to release and save our feathered friend that most likely carried bird flu) streaking down my face when he wouldn’t let the cardinal go until a towel was thrown over his head. (For those of you holding your breath or shedding a tear over the bird, it lived).

Noooooooo!

You guys, the bird! Teddy’s jaw! My BATH!

A very relaxing, spa-like evening indeed.

Once Ted had a whiff of wildness, he got very daring after The Great Bird Incident.  One afternoon Bear attempted to escape the awful prison I keep him in by leaping off the porch to a nearby bush (about four feet away) which turned out like this:

Body outline

Body outline of my ferocious feline.

He’d climbed to the porch railing and apparently thought the bush was sturdy enough to hold him (Teddy sometimes has blonde moments like his mother) but alas he sunk all the way down to the bottom.  It was super fun trying to get a hysterical cat out of the tangle of limbs.

After his failed prison break, the porch was promptly screened to the ceiling, preventing my blue blooded attack cat from parting ways with yours truly (he obviously loved his new home).

blah

My detainee’s private jail cell.

Of course Tedstar continually looked for a way out but much to his dismay, I locked that shit down like Fort Knox.

Don't jump

Does curiosity kill?

Presently in my mini-catsle, I’m the evil queen happy to keep my royal subject Ted preserved behind second balcony porch bars, knowing that I won’t have any unwelcome gifts or a clumsy cat stuck in a bush.

Still trying to leave me.  Good thing his fur isn’t as long as Rapunzel’s hair.

Trying to persuade my fave pussy from walking the second story proverbial plank, I christened the porch in honor of Mr. Bear.

Properly named perch.

Properly named perch.

Highly unimpressed with a 2 x 4 wood sign, Teddy still thinks there might be a chance to break free, walking on the backs of chairs like he’s a high wire act in the circus.

How can I pounce out?

Now that I’ve introduced three new court jesters into our royal family, I have a feeling they’ll be putting their furry noggins together to thwart my attempts to keep them behind my gated tower.

Court jesters.

The new pussies on the porch prowl.

Now, who’s the real master of the mini manse?

I think we all already know the answer.

CBXB

CBXB!

Pussy Pandemonium

Apparently being traumatized by another human being in a life altering event makes one feel the need to buy love. For me, acquiring affection isn’t in the form of old-fashioned hookers or new-fashioned Bumble (seriously, what is that?) but through the purchase of pussies. Three too many of them.

You see Mama CBXB thought it’d be a good idea to get my thoughts on something other than an ongoing police case, the fact I have no employment, the furball love of my life Ted developed a serious heart condition within two weeks and wanted to provide me some light life focus.

So she decided to buy me a kitten.

Princess Elsa Pants Crossbones

How can you say no to this face?         You don’t.

First, I was leery. I mean Teddy is used to being the main attraction of all things CBXB (even though he shared the spotlight with our dearly departed, highly annoying but oh-so-loved New Cat for a bit). With that in mind, it was still end of story when we entered Pet Smart on what just happened to be National Adoption Weekend.

How much is that pussy in the window?

How much is that pussy in the window?

I don't hate this idea.

It didn’t take long for me to warm up to the idea.

Upon putting my hand in a pile of young pussies, I pulled out a sweet faced baby who was already dubbed Elsa. Being that the Iowa twins favor that princess most, I fell in love and this kitten hit the jackpot. All I needed to do was check the fuck out with my newest family member.

No name change for the Princess.

No name change for the Princess.

But then I stood up and was met with piercing green eyes peering out of a cage, staring so hard through my soul I could almost feel the two holes burned into my forehead.

You know you want me too.

You know you want me too.

I just had to get into the cage to see what was going on with this emerald eyed monster who immediately head butted my face, accompanied by a swift lick when I tried to crawl into the metal house with her.

Hi there. Care if I join?

Hi there. Care if I join?

Turns out this black beauty had an extremely shy brother sleeping in the back of the cage who wasn’t adapting well to being in a rescue. These four-year-old siblings were surrendered by some asswipe who decided they couldn’t care for them anymore.

Who am I to break up a sibling bond?

Who am I to break up a sibling bond?

I then decided to check all three of them out at once, testing the waters.

Totally under control.

Totally under control.

My arms of steel were able to squeeze all of the felines tight enough to keep them in my crazy cat lady grip just long enough to not triple second guess my decision to take them all.

Mulling it over for .00000001 second.

Mulling it over for .00000001 second.

And just like that, the operator of Sweet Faces Cat & Kitten Rescue agreed to let me take the ‘triplets’ home to the mini manse, where Ted and Precious the chug unknowingly awaited the new arrivals.

Penny and her #1 customer.

Penny and her #1 customer.

 

MVP of the weekend.

MVP of the weekend.

 

What is about to happen?

What is about to happen?

In keeping with my love of all things Griswold family, I decided to name my newly obtained family members after Cousin Eddie’s kids.

Rocky - the strong, silent type.

Rocky – the strong, silent type.

Ruby Sue - possibly missing a brain cell or two.

Ruby Sue – possibly missing a brain cell or ten.

And as I said before, the baby remains Princess Elsa in honor of my Iowa twins.

P

They love animated Elsa. I love the fur ball version.

Princess Elsa Pants Crossbones

Princess Elsa Pants Crossbones.

The ride home from Pet Smart was eerily quiet with each cat in a newly purchased cardboard box (as I didn’t intend on coming home with any furry addition). Not a peep, meow, hiss, growl or howl was uttered.  And nothing was said as I introduced each new family member to Mr. Bear and Presh one by one. The transition from being a cray cray cat lady to borderline animal hoarder was smooth sailing for everyone.

Cautious cats.

Princess and King, cautious friends at first.

Warm

Warm and fuzzies after about four minutes.

Turns out, Tedstar likes being the big man in the mini manse – but refuses to acknowledge his contentment.

Butt buddies.

Butt buddies.

Nightly ritual.

Nightly ritual.

Brotherly love.

Brotherly love.

Mauling mania.

Mauling mania.

I know, I know, I’m thisclose to being a stereotypical cliché given the fact that I’m an unmarried, candle loving, drinks wine alone while watching sappy Lifetime movies and I live in a literal animal house. But guess what? I don’t give a fuck.

I inspired this action figure.

I inspired this action figure.

Nashvillians know me by name.

Famous among Nashvillians, obviously.

IMG_0776

Let’s be honest – no one snickers behind my back because I have the type of family and friends who will ridicule me to my face with the hopes that I do not in any way shape or form turn into this woman…

Please intervene if it my situation gets this dire.

Please intervene if my situation gets this dire.

But you know, while I feel good about saving three more sweet souls in the end, I wonder who is really saving whom?

Saved.

Can’t help but love the crazy, pussy pandemonium can you?

CBXB

CBXB!

 

 

May the Force be With You…

The force is strong in our furry family,

give in to the power of the sparkly dark side,

PastedGraphic-1

or risk a pissy Princess Pussy’s anger that would reach worldwide.

(insert heavy breathing here)

Happy Halloween!

CBXB and Ted

CBXB!

National Pussy, er…Teddy Bear Day

It’s National Cat Day folks.

This is the biggest holiday of my year (don’t judge) as most of you know just how cuckoo for fucking Cocoa Puffs I am about my pussy, Teddy B.  He’s the yin to my yang. The side to my kick. The “me” to my “ow”.   So in a dire attempt to make my furball love me all the more, I present you with an ode to the best bear on the planet…

Ahem.

Oh Ted you bring so much joy and good cheer,

Even when your piercing looks could kill.

Image 7

Always a sport when I dress you up,

Image 28

You never lose your cool when the costume fucks up.

Image 10

Cinco de Teddy was a highlight one year and

while I was sure we had matching sombreros,

Image 2

I’m pretty sure you were trying to figure out

how to pierce my heart with an arrow.

Image 1

Bunny ears aren’t your favorite as you made very clear,

Image

So I made you a pirate, in which (I kinda think) you revered.

Image 25

Today is your day and in honor of you,

I will break out my finest kit cat attire.

Image 70

I’ll be sure to slip on your favorite tie  –

before you try to murder me by hire.

Image 1

The night will be yours to do as you please.

Whether it includes Skinny Pirates, shots of Jell-O,

Image 10

or your favorite vino to help you chill and be mellow.

IMG_3571

 We were both beyond blue

when New Cat passed suddenly this year.

New Cat

Although beyond annoying, we’re heartbroken he permanently left our crew.

Kitty Love

Celebrate you we will with all kinds of fun,

Image 24

As my Earth tends to revolve around your sun.

Image 14

Happy Teddy Bear Cat Day to all of our furiends!

CBXB

CBXB!

The Bitch….er, I Mean Bear is Back.

My pussy is baaaaaaaaaaack!

The bitch is back. And no, I'm not talking about me.

The bitch is back.
And no, I’m not talking about me.

A little over a month ago, Ted became sick in what felt like a matter of minutes – as one day he seemed happy, healthy and bitchy as ever but then suddenly lost almost half his body weight, wouldn’t eat and became lethargic (couldn’t even hold his head up to meow profanities at me).  Taking him to the vet, I had to leave him in the kitty ICU.

Full on worry mode

Yes, we asked that the bandage match his eyes.

And then the worrying at the mini manse began…

The Griswold twins were plagued with uneasiness over Bear’s absence.

The Griswold twins were worried.

Clark was so terrified he had to take a nap.

Precious thought she may never again get a bath, since Ted demands he be the one to clean her.

Our favorite little chug on the planet, Precous was worried.

Destined to be a forever dirty dog?

Speaking of worry, I was about thisclose to being shoved in a straight jacket and taken to the nearest loony bin.

I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sit still. But thank god I could still drink.

Liquor and pills make everything better. Wait. What?

Just your regular, every day shit show.

My nerves frayed more when every single test ran on Mr. Bear turned up with nothing to report and another was conducted with days to wait in between for results. But you folks came out in droves with your good wishes, karma, prayers and support.

Messages of good

Cutie of a well wisher.

Cards

My friend’s kid is obviously going to be the next Picasso.

With all of that love swirling around for TB, he mustered the strength to pull through a surgery, was granted a diagnosis (that’s treatable!) and after what felt like eons in the pet hospital, I wrapped him up and took him home.

Homeward bound

Homeward bound.

Think somebody missed someone?

Think somebody missed someone?

Seeing my typically plump pussy so lean, I did what any mother would do.

Fur and bones

Fur and bones.

I put food in his face every time he turned around (and then tried to wrangle Presh away).

Eat his heart out, much to P's dismay.

A double dose of duck and tuna.

Favorite snack of peas whenever he wants.

His fave green peas always at the ready.

Malts are also now in his diet.

Malts make everything better.

Overflowing his martini glass with food. EAT DAMMIT!

Overflowing his martini glass with food.
EAT DAMMIT!

While thwarting off his furry roommates in order to get to his heaping amounts of food I shoved in his face, Tedstar’s presence was missed so much that he couldn’t get one moment to himself.

Not alone...fur friends

No peace on the porch.

so happy together

Cuddles on the couch are so cute.

Or were they?

Except when the 24/7 cuddles aren’t welcomed.

After shipping everyone else out of the mini manse so Ted could get some r and r, he is now basking in the glow of being an only child again.

Self

Alone in the nap bed.

Self

Alone on the porch.

Couchin'

Alone on the couch.

Ridin' in style

Alone in the car.

And…

Alone with me at work.

Alone with me at work.

Where I continuously maul him all day long.

Where I continuously maul him all day long…

Much to his dismay.

…much to his dismay.

The bear is now demanding his fur bros and sister reappear before I kiss him to death.

Yes, I know I’m a crazy cat lady. And I don’t give a fuck.

The bitch is back!

CBXB

CBXB!