Meowloweens from Halloweens Past

If you think stuffing pets in costumes is ridiculous, you’re gonna wanna divert your eyes.

The fur ball love of my life, Ted E. Bear has been gone for two years now. I couldn’t love any of my Pussy Posse more if I birthed them myself (and yes, I mean that with all of my fucking heart) but Teddy…Tedstar was THE ultimate love of my life. I would give almost anything to have him back with me although I know he’s mauling my Gma, Aunt Crazy Pants, Precious, New Cat and Nicodeamus up above not patiently awaitng my arrival.

When Mr. Bear and I first became connected, he had such a nervous disposition, it took almost two years of work to let me hold him (talk about being careful what you wish for). Once that happened, he was my shadow and I didn’t hate it. So when the art of dressing pets entered my mind, I had some ideas.

His looks could kill. So maybe a bodyguard costume was in order?

The stare that gazed through souls.

Ted always liked to be in control (obvies my baby), so when we’d road trip, he insisted on being in the driver’s seat. So maybe a truck driver costume?

Jesus Teddy take the wheel.

Dental hygiene isn’t something that pussies are fond of but then again, TB was no average feline. And being that we shared everything, he always used my toothbrush. So maybe a dentist costume?

Pearly whites.

Cheese.

Then there was the time I considered how much time I was spending watching my fave TV show, Forensic Files, as Ted mimicked a crime scene. He did this by jumping off the porch into a neighboring bush, leaving an outline of his body and himself ferociously confined to the bottom branches. The removal process should have been filmed for Forensic Files, as you can imagine how calm and tranquil and non dramatic a stuck cat can be.

Maybe a kitty CSI agent costume?

I slowly started introducing props to our costuming atmosphere. I began with a simple cowboy hat, as we lived in Nashville, the home of country music. He really loved it. So much so, he had the hat on for .000000000002 seconds.

Yeefuckinghaw.

After the western attire was a success, why not take it even more south of the border with a sombrero and poncho?

Mad hombre.

Since he obvies loved gussying up, I went out on a limb one Halloween and turned him into a member of the Apidae family, a bee.

Buzz.the.fuck.off.

Not so honey lickin’ good.

I had so much past success, the following year, I decided to not only gussy Ted up but join in on the fun with him. Why couldn’t I do a couple’s costume with my cat? That’s not weird. At all.

We went as Miley Cyrus and Robin Thicke. This was after Miley casually dry humped Robin in front of the world on live television at the MTV Music Awards earlier that year.

No gyrating here.

While it may look like I easily capture award winning selfies, about 8,325,910 photos were taken (I had to take resting breaks for my arm) in order to get the money shot.

Blurred lines.

Tongue lashing.

If Ted could wear sunglasses, he could certainly don a wig, right? The following Halloween, he was the Princess Leia to my Darth Vader.

Ted, I am your mother.

It was super easy getting him into wardrobe.

He don’t want none unless he gets his buns, Hon.

While we didn’t know it was our last time for dress up together, our Batman theme was our best Halloween ever.

Catman.

We’d taken in a sidekick, a cat I found at the dumpster (now that I think about it, I find a lot of fucking things at my dumpster…) and refused to give a name because I didn’t want to keep him even though we all know what happened. He stayed. And kept the name New Cat.

Poor New New had all kinds of anxiety and instead of audibly sighing so loudly the neighbors could hear like Bear, he preferred to hiss and bat his declawed paws at me (people who declaw animals and then dump them have a special place in hell) in defense of looking like a dressed up asshole.

A forced Robin.

Batman, Catwoman and Robin together furever about a split second.

Wishing they had superhero powers to use on their super whack job mama.

Robin’s revolt.

Upon New Cat’s divaesque behavior, Bear and I cuddled up only as a not-awkward-at-all mother and son duo could for our Halloween photo.

Purrfect pair.

I can almost hear the heavy sighs from Ted above right now. Only this time instead of being from forced costume insertion, they’re signs of relief. He was always such a little bitch.

Happy Meowloween!

CBXB!

 

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 Pussy Loves Me…He Loves Me Not…

My pussy cat Mr. Ted E. Bear loves to hate me.

All I do.

Truth.

For some odd reason, even though I shower the little love of my life with more affection than a newborn human, he can be so bitchy.  Many times when I’d like to scoop him up for a photo-op, he loves me not.

Kiss me fool

Bitch please.

Still not loving me.

Cheek bite

Getting cheeky.

Forced to love me.

Wranlge

Face of defeat.

Teddy gets extremely annoyed with football season, as every Saturday becomes a drunken moonshine guzzling family affair and he isn’t afraid to showcase his disdain.

Not football friendly. Tailgate fail.

No pussy love for tailgating.

But what I can’t understand is Ted’s pissy behavior when I shove him into his Sunday best…

Can't

Loves me not.

Or dress him up in a bee costume…

Help

Desperately wanting to sting his mother.

Or make him be a version of Robin Thicke to my Miley

Myself

Love me not.

Money shot!

For sure hates my guts.

Or make him the Catman to my Catwoman.

Forced superhero.

Forced superhero.

What I do know is that regardless of whatever giddy up I shove Tedstar into, he always warms up (after some treats are dispersed – green peas are his fave), comes back around (once I have thoroughly massaged between his ears, under his chin with the grand finale of a belly rub) and gets in the saddle once again to be my constant sidekick.

Always got my back.

He’ll claw a bitch.

And when a hungry, crying, soaking wet cat showed up at the door one cold January night, I couldn’t help but take him in and try to find him a permanent home, which ended up being mine. Introducing a new pussy into the mini manse, Mr. Bear wasn’t sure what the fuck I was thinking and proceeded to act as if I ceased to exist.

Who is this and what is it doing in my manse?

Who is this and what is it doing in my manse?

Ted made clear that he was the man in charge, even when it came to the dreaded photos in which I always make him pose.

Who's the boss?

Who’s the boss?

But eventually, I was kicked to the curb and a new love story began to blossom.

Brotherly love.  Just before it broke out into a wrestling match.

Brotherly love.
Just before it broke out into a wrestling match.

But no matter how much my main pussy loves to hate me, we always kiss and make up.

Kiss and make up.

Loves me?

Whether he likes it or not.

CBXB

CBXB!

How to Conduct a Photoshoot with Pissy Pussies

Being the resident cray cray cat lady of Nashville, it’s a given that I shove my precious pussy Mr. Bear into a costume on any and all occasions that arise.

Catman

Unwillingly the cutest, calmest bat cat in all of his glory.

Now because my Teddy is the most laid back pussy you’ll ever meet, over the years I’ve been able to shove him into a sombrero, a tie, a Santa suit, bunny ears and last Halloween, into a Robin Thicke costume (complimenting my Miley – and yes, if you didn’t already know or believe my previous statement, I am bat shit crazy over my feline. I couldn’t love him more if I birthed him myself. Judge away).

But I knew this holiday season was going to be different because Ted and I acquired a new resident this year in the form of a very annoying, extremely lovable, mentally challenged (think Lloyd Christmas from Dumb and Dumber) tuxedo cat we cleverly named New Cat.  Wondering how I could costume a trio, my gal pal over at Apple Pie and Napalm suggested Catman and Robin, with me chiming in as Catwoman, obviously.

Materials

Downloaded templates from the Internet, velcro strips and felt were all that was needed to outfit my super heroes.

Little Glue high from the glue fumes

I bonded the Catman pieces to felt with fabric glue.

Ready to roll

And then cut velcro strips that easily stuck to the felt backed masks and collars.

Hoping NC was high from glue fumes, my fingers were crossed that he would bond with his costume before I tried to slide him into it.

Robin bonding

You want me to put what where??

After thirty minutes of trying to wrangle New New into his Robin collar, I should have known by his crazy eyes just how well this photo shoot would go…

what the fuck is happening to me?!

What the fuck is happening to me?!

While Ted patiently waited in his full on Catman garb, I wrestled New Cat WWE style to get the damn mask around his head.

Taking hold

.0001 second into the shoot and Mr. Tuxedo was already one-eyed.

Keeper?!

Three seconds into the shoot, I thought this was going to be a slightly less stressful event, as New Cat settled down.

At all.

Until second five when NC decided to try to entice Catman into a fist fight.

Slippery than a greased pig

Masked crusader brawl about to break out.

Staying in character, I tried to strong armed the ferocious felines into sitting still enough for one more shot….which might have worked if New Cat hadn’t somehow become more slippery than a greased pig.

Greased Pig

Taking the back door exit. No wonder Robin was never the star – he was a big pussy!

So what’s a crazy cat lady to do when one of her pussies is being beyond cooperative during a photoshoot?

Do it again, naturally.

Claws out.

Trying to get my eyes clawed out is one of my many specialties.

As you can see my second attempt failed more miserably than my first and Mr. Tuxedo meowed so loudly my ears were ringing.

FUCK. THIS. NOISE.

FUCK. THIS. NOISE.

Seeing that there was no coaxing my new pussy into anymore costume shenanigans, TB and I went back to what we do best.

Being a dynamic duo.

Puuurfect.

Puuurfect.

Which is exactly how Teddy prefers it.

CBXB

CBXB!

 

My Pussy Loves Me, He Loves Me Not

My pussy cat Mr. Ted E. Bear loves to hate me.

All I do.

Truth.

For some odd reason, even though I shower the little love of my life with more affection than a newborn human, he can be so bitchy.  Many times when I’d like to scoop him up for a photo-op, he loves me not.

Kiss me fool

Bitch please.

Still not loving me.

Cheek bite

Getting cheeky.

Forced to love me.

Wranlge

Face of defeat.

Teddy gets extremely annoyed with football season, as every Saturday becomes a drunken moonshine guzzling family affair and he isn’t afraid to showcase his disdain.

Not football friendly. Tailgate fail.

No pussy love for tailgating.

But what I can’t understand is Ted’s pissy behavior when I force him into his Sunday best…

Can't

Loves me not.

Or dress him up in a bee costume…

Help

Desperately wanting to sting his mother.

Or make him be a version of Robin Thicke to my Miley.

Myself

Love me not.

Money shot!

For sure hates my guts.

What I do know is that regardless of whatever giddy up I shove Tedstar into, he always warms up (after some treats are dispersed – green peas are his fave), comes back around (once I have thoroughly massaged between his ears, under his chin with the grande finale of a belly rub) and gets in the saddle once again to be my constant sidekick.

Always got my back.

He’ll claw a bitch.

So no matter how much my pussy love to hate me, we always kiss and make up.

Kiss and make up.

Loves me?

Whether he likes it or not.

CBXB

CBXB!

 

The Shit Show of Miley and Robin

Infrequently, I have moments of sheer genius.

Like when I saw Miley Cyrus gyrating against Robin Thicke at this year’s MTV Video Awards, I immediately knew what my cat (yes I said my cat) Teddy Bear and I were going to be for Halloween. Yep, I’m a genius (I mean, this is what all folks with cats do, right? RIGHT?).

But executing a brilliant idea isn’t always seamless. Especially when it involves adorning a feline in wardrobe and accessories. Maybe I’m not so clever after all…but by God, we made one handsome celebrity shit show when it was all said and done.

Teddy Krueger at his finest.

Teddy Krueger at his finest.

Before getting Ted all gussied up as slick Robin Thicke, I let him sniff out the elements of his dress (and of course I left out the teeny, tiny detail that he would be putting these threads on in the next few moments).

Sniff

Something smells fishy.

After he thoroughly checked his garb, I whipped out what I thought would be a welcomed accessory.

Bright

WTF are those things?!

Mr. Bear morphed into Inspector Gadget as he took his sweet ass time getting acquainted with what would soon be perched on his furry face.

Inspection

Bonding with the shades – or so I thought.

It was then that I announced my grand scheme of transforming TB into Teddy Thicke.

*Record scratch*

You want me to what?

You want me to what?

If getting a cat to stay in a black and white striped suit (yep, I said suit) and staying still enough to pose with sunglasses on his nose, while trying to balance a foam finger and snap an in focus photo simultaneously were an Olympic event, I would have the gold, silver and bronze metals displayed in my mini-manse right now.

We started off with good vibes but Ted wasn’t feeling the coolness of the sunglasses (or the outfit…or the overall ridiculousness of his mother…or the fact that strips really aren’t flattering) upon the first click of the camera.

Take 345

Done with the fun after take one.

Figuring out that movin’ and shakin’ would knock the despised eyewear off his face, Tedstar got down to business.

346

Ted almost gave himself whiplash trying to discard the shades.

Being the professional photographer that I am, the photo shoot kept going strong even with the divatude seething from my model.

348

Can you see TB’s tolerance level diminishing by the moment? Or the smoke coming out of his ears?

And then all hell broke loose as the little shit tried to undress himself right before my picture snapping eyes.

349

F this noise.

Luckily I got him under control but not before I almost lost my retina and permanent taste in my tongue all with one swipe of an extremely large paw adorned with razor-sharp talons (note to self – trim the bear’s nails prior to future photo shoots).

Teddy Krueger at his finest.

Showing me who’s really boss.

And with that, we were both in a state of shock. My brain couldn’t comprehend my little feline suddenly turning into a beast (I mean it’s just an outfit…and his entire evening…and completely embarrassing) while Ted was in a state of disbelief and disappointment that he missed both my eye and tongue.

Uh...

Uh…

It was then I decided to defuse the situation and let Mr. Bear murder his overly loathed accessory.

die

SUCK IT sunglasses!

die

Die bitch, die!

But with all of his efforts, the sunglasses remained in mint condition.

die

How could this be?!

When TB lost interest in trying to dismember the shades, I broke the news that we’d be doing this all over again ’til we got our money shot.

WTF were you thinking? I KNOW.

SON OF A BITCH.

And money shot we got.

Image 28

I’m just sleeping with one eye open now.

CBXB

CBXB!

Twerk or Treat

Twerk or treat, smell our feet

Give us something good to eat.

If you don’t, Robin doesn’t care

‘Cause Miley will still pull down her underwear.

Image 28

Happy Haunting.

Robin and Miley

CBXB!