A Party Animal

Good ol' Saturday. Spike is home, no doubt to freeload on Thanksgiving next week. Has he ever offered to help prepare the green bean casserole? No, of course not. But put a plate of turkey drumsticks and giblet stuffing on the table and he's the first to help himself.
Tonight I planned to pick up one of his favorites, a bold pinot noir, with hopes that we could play a rousing game of Trivial Pursuit. But when I arrived home, I discovered Spike had already took it upon himself to not wait for me and have a wild and crazy time with the cooking sherry. (Darnit Spike...I had pork tenderloins defrosting in the fridge for that).
So now he's passed out in the living room and I have no one to play Trivial Pursuit with.
I'm not looking forward to tomorrow morning when he's whining about his hangover.

Boo, from Transylvania

While most people are painstakingly scouring the stores for their perfect Halloween costume, decorating their windows with orange lights and fake cobwebs and setting carved pumpkins on their porches, Spike took a different approach this year. In an effort to gain a better understanding of how this holiday came to be what it is today, Spike set off to the spooky destination of Transylvania.

Being in another country, his cell phone un-working, the only form of communication we’ve received is a postcard relaying his safe arrival. Spike writes “I’ve arrived! Transylvania is an interesting place, with ominous dark clouds and large castle-like buildings with tall spires. I’ve yet to find Dracula and am becoming more and more distraught with every person bursting into laughter when I ask about his whereabouts. Perhaps a fellow cat would be of some help. Despite my unsuccessful Dracula findings, Transylvania is not scarce of garlic and stake vendors. I’ll be sure to make my famous Garlic Chicken Soup when I return, as I’ve picked up a hefty amount of garlic cloves here already at a great price.

Now I’m off to meet with a fellow who says he can direct me to the location of the world’s largest jack-o-lantern. I felt bad accepting his offer, as he was looking rather pale, perhaps coming down with a case of the swine flu. He says he’s a strict night owl and can only meet with me after dark, which I thought was a little strange. But either way now that the sun has set, I better be on my way. Perhaps later, I can cook him some of my famous Garlic Chicken Soup as a sign of my gratitude and to help his cold.”

painting Spike.

I have a special paintbrush that I keep near my other paintbrushes on my craft table. I don't use it for painting as one might assume. Instead, it's Spike's personal paintbrush that he likes for me to brush on his face. So he'll come by every now and then when I'm working and give me the "brush my face" eyes. So I do. Sometimes Ein gets jealous and wants me to brush her face too. But I only have so many special kitty paintbrushes to go around at one time. She'll have to wait her turn.

It's really hard to get my painting done because god forbid I put down his paintbrush and try to pick up my other brushes to actually do some work. Intricate detailing will have to wait no doubt.



And also at some point when I was actually painting he also managed to rub himself into my paint covered brushes.

Ok that's a lie. I poked him with my paintbrush because he was curious. And it didn't seem to phase him one bit. I'm a terrible mother.

Spike is a Traitor.

So it's come to my attention that Spike, seen above "smelling the flowers", has totally been sending his postcards and images to Jamie, his other parental figure (who coincidentally does all the litter changing, feeding and vet visits...)

This is the reason for the gap in posts. But I'm fixing that now. Jamie will soon be given permission to post the photos she gets from him.

I warn all three of you who read this blog though.. While I would never write the word "kitteh" or use any form of "lolcat-speak" without quotation marks and intense amounts of sarcasm, she has no such boundaries.

SpikeTravels, you just got "kitteh'd"