Crazier About My Pussy by the Day

If you’ve followed my shenanigans for long, you’re well aware that I am bat shit crazy about my cat Ted and slightly cray cray about the brother I forced upon him last year, New Cat (yep, that’s still his name).

Apparently my deranged feelings for my feline are starting to get out of control, as I went to send a picture to someone of Ted and this is who I tried to text….

Dear Teddy

Realizing no names were populating in the To: bar, it took a good 15 seconds for me to figure out why in the fuck this text wouldn’t send (being blonde is hard work).

I think it’s safe to say that I am now the number one psycho cat lady in Nashville. Hell, maybe in all of the state of Tennessee.

Anyone have a straight jacket I could borrow?



My Pussy Purrfector

Every morning, the furry little love of my life likes to help transform me from blurry eyed to bushy-tailed (and trust me, it takes a lot of work).

Since we are all well aware of his flawless purrfection, Teddy dictates my morning makeup routine, whipping my face into presentable shape.

Maybe it's Maybelline

Easy, breezy, beautiful, Cover Cat.

The process begins with Ted using my vanity as his own personal aerobics studio (I mean, it is mirrored and naturally he loves looking at himself while emulating Richard Simmons in Sweatin’ to the Oldies), prancing around all of my accessories, making it next to impossible for me to see the mirror I so desperately need to use.

Mirror block

Cat blocking the mirror.

Upon completion of his workout (and once he’s wasted 14 seconds of my precious morning routine), he tip toes over my eye liners to catch some rays.

Feels so good when it hits the face.

Feels so good when it hits the face.

When his sunbathing is over, Tedstar promptly sets out in selecting my eyeshadow for the day.



Once we’ve agreed on a hue, he oh-so-carefully directs me in its application.

Yeah, that looks good.

Easy on the eye there, Ma!


Pussy approved face.

All of the energy exerted for his five second workout, basking in the sun and project management of making my face presentable takes a toll and TB tends to fall asleep standing up.

So tiring being a makeup artist.

Being pretty is exhausting.

Getting a quick second wind after a two minute cat nap, Mr. Ted E. Bear moves on with the rest of his day as I dress for work.

This starts by lounging on my glittery pink hamper. Which is the exact spot I will find Mr. Handsome in when I come home from a long day.

Beautification complete.

Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful.

As you can see being your mother’s beauty director every morning is a daunting task. But being a perfect pussy is obviously much harder work.

Just look at Ted.



How to Get Rid of Your Pussy’s Bad Breath

Brusha brusha brusha...

Brusha brusha brusha…

My cat Mr. Ted E. Bear thinks he’s perfect (what cat doesn’t?) and while I tend to agree with him 99% of the time there is one teeny tiny area where he could use some improvement. His morning breath.

kiss and make up

Dude. No kissing ’til you brush.

My fur ball almost makes me keel over when he opens his mouth as wide as possible, yawning stale duck food and cat ass breath in my face every morning (naturally, I yawn last night’s Skinny Pirate breath right back into his whiskers).

Caution: potent breath reaches up to three feet.

February is National Pet Dental Health Month and while not every pet needs their teeth cleaned professionally my kit cat does. Ted is already high maintenance ($60 bags of allergy cat food – he demands the duck and pea combo) due to neglect by his first hoarder owner (he was rescued in a one bedroom apartment with 30 cats).  Because my little bear didn’t receive the appropriate shots before being rescued, he’s susceptible to EVERYTHING, which is why I have to get his chompers cleaned every other year in order to prevent gingivitis and infections.

I demand duck and peas!

You will feed me duck and pea food. And you will like it.

Tedstar never sometimes realizes how high maintenance he tends to be (the aforementioned cost of his food) and knows that I’m pinching pennies. So trying to help me alleviate a $175 pet dental bill, I walked into the bathroom one morning and saw Mr. Bear eyeing my toothbrush…


Hmm…what kind of toy is this?

One lick was all it took before TB decided to chomp down on the minty brush.

Feels so good when it hits the teeth!

Feels so good when it hits the teeth!

Once he started, he couldn’t stop (just like me with a bag of Lay’s potato chips).


Going deep for the back teeth.

Making sure I was watching him every. single. second.

Eye on the prize.

Is he winking? Or giving me his best impression of a pirate?

He paid special attention to his front chompers, as they’re what appear first when yawning.



Concentration was required for the tongue brushing. Ted almost lost his balance and fell off the vanity (taking after his mother, he’s the clumsiest cat in all of Nashville…maybe even the world).

Not forgetting his tongue

Tongue tied.

As Mr. Bear kept smacking his lips, I couldn’t help but laugh in his face.

So fresh and so clean clean.

So fresh and so clean clean.

Which then prompted him to turn back into a cat, acting as if the whole incident never happened.

Too cool for teeth.

Too cool for teeth.

I, too, acted like the whole incident never happened because after my shower, I accidentally used the feline molested toothbrush.

Can you get cat scratch fever from swapping spit with your cat?



Tampon-tacular Ted

You know those (highly obnoxious) people who think their kid is more outstanding than any other? The kind that boasts with the ‘my child is on the honor roll’ bumper sticker type? Well, I’m now that proud parent who can’t wait to scream how fabulous my feline is from the hilltops of Tennessee.

And why you wonder? Not only can Teddy bring me birds while I soak in the bathtub (click here to read about his adorableness), he can hunt and gather…wait for it…wait for it….tampons!

Hunt and Gather

Tough Teddy on the prowl.

I was minding my own business when Ted burst through the door like his tiny tail was on fire. My immediate thought was “Jesus. Please don’t let it be anything still living,” (as my sweet Bear once brought a live mouse into the bed one night at 3am….I thought he was taking one hell of a bath (smacking his lips like he was eating fried chicken) and when I went to drag him up by my face, he had a little friend…pleasant experience) and it took a second to realize what kind of prey he’d ‘hunted’ out of my purse (he’s also very good at confiscating toothbrushes – read here).

proud feline

Protecting his kill. My heart bursts with pride.

As he spit the tampon out at my feet, I felt a little tear come to my eye. Not from being overwhelmed with happiness that my cat just killed another inanimate object but tears of sheer delight streamed down my cheeks as I laughed my ass off (I wish it was that easy).  What would I do without the comical fur ball love of my life?

I’m just trying to figure out what my braggy, boasting bumper sticker should say…