Saturday, January 18, 2014

Honu, you CAT.

Sadly for all us blue-streak cussin' machines, we have reached the point where the kid actually listens and will occasionally slip and say something profane. (Like we didn't see that coming.) I'm waiting to get a call from the school that she slipped and fell at recess and yelled "MOTHER FUCKER". I promise I'll try not to giggle.

So no HONU YOU FUCKER posts. Or shouting at the top of my voice.
For many reasons, mostly the above. But, well. For a tortie, Honu's pretty darn biddable. Usually. When it suits her. We're still trying to teach her to play with the humans, and it's going slowly. When it's cold out, she likes to lay on me, which is good. And she likes to pounce stuff. And carries little toy mousies around in her mouth like kills, which is adorable even though it shouldn't be.


The little shit has a taste for spinning fiber, and has made off with several chunks. Including some from Fiber Optic, which is NOT EASY TO GET HOLD OF. (If you click that link, I am not responsible for what happens to your credit cards. Oh, hell, just go HERE and weep at the awesome. Start with the 'show your work' thread.) She pulled an entire batt out of my spinning basket a few months ago, dragged it up and down the hall, killing it the whole way, and left it snarled in a matted mess around her scratching post. Dead as can be, all right. It took half an hour on hands and knees to get the silk fibers up, that she'd ground into the carpet.

The pictures were lost in the Great Phone Crash of 2013, but I might have something....
There we go. This was posted to Twitter over the summer, with the caption "oh my fucking god I'm going to kill my cat". The purple is merino with sparkle, and the turquoise is silk. That woulda made nice yarn. Honu made it trash. FUCKER.

I got a project bag with a drawstring top and kept my fiber in it. She learned how to open the goddamn bag. This is my reward for not declawing her.

She also likes yarn, and will BITE it. Once I was winding off some yarn from bobbin to niddy-noddy, and she burst out of nowhere, chomped down, and took off. Amazingly, the yarn survived the treatment, and so did the cat.

Usually Honu's really good about "NO". She understands the word, and knows there are things she shouldn't do. But, being a cat, at tortie cat, well, occasionally she throws that to the wind, and all hell breaks loose.

So, yeah. Honu, you CAT. I've gotta have SOMETHING to yell.


anne said...

Hi, glad to read your blog again! You could try alliteration with Honu. DD's pup, Tybalt, gets teeny, tiny, terrible toerag etc from me. You could start with simple stuff like horrible, hairy, horrendous Honu and get more inventive as you get more incentive!

Rachelle said...

It's not just torties with the yarn and fibre issues; my black cat has them too. I have several balls of yarn that are now in 2 or 3 balls and she loves my fibre to bits - literally.

Deb said...

When my kids were younger, I used the word FIRETRUCK for that special word.

Of course, they knew if I used the real word, they were in serious trouble...

Yes, I did use it sometimes. Like the time I came home and the house was filled with smoke, the fire alarm going off and the neighbors about to call the fire dept. He'd put a pizza in the oven and went to play hackey sack.

His friends still talk about that day.

Anonymous said...

It is possible to cuss a blue streek and allow your kids to as well without them getting into trouble. My child was an accomplished cusser by four years old, but we taught her to realize that outside of home those words were not acceptable. Never once got a call from school. Ours was the popular house since her friends knew they could say whatever words they chose to.

Alwen said...

Man, cat teeth are sharp!

When my friend's cat ate the holes in her Orenburg shawl, it looked like it had been cut with scissors.

Emily said...

My daughter asked me at the age of 4 if it was OK to say certain words like "shit and stuff". I explained that there were people who'd really get upset about it & so forth. Then I got curious and asked, "Do you know what 'shit' means?"
She became embarrassed and said, "Well, you know...'
"Yeah, but I want to know what you know."

Finally she ducked her head and murmured, "Well, you know, it's when the mommy & the daddy..."

"Oh no!" I howled, "that's the wrong word!" and went on to explain. She laughed and said, "Ooo, wait til I tell Jason!" Mental picture of little children giggling over whispered "bad" words here.
Never a problem with school, though when they were older I had to explain that "fuck" was such a bad word when I was their age that even the greasers didn't use it. So when they yelled "fuck" at me, I felt as tho' I'd been slapped and could hear nothing for many seconds after. Useless in an argument, in other words. They immediately stopped using it around me.

Mary said...

Reminds me of when I accidently taught our twins the word, umm *firetrucking* in relation to the Shop Vac. We had to hide it - they thought it was part of the name. I was more careful with their younger brother. :)