taffy cat

Mischief Update–Bits and Pieces

If this were a meeting run according to Rules of Order rather than a Manifesto of Mischief, we would start with Old Business. Ongoing projects, as it were.

The humans still do not have the new gutters that Roofer Number Five promised. Nor have they received word whether Usually Sounds Amiable, Although… is going to pay for the hail-cracked skylight. You’d think the roofing company would want to finish this job, seeing as how they haven’t been paid yet. I think I can stretch this situation to January if I try, so there’s my first New Year’s Resolution right there.

I may have overdone the mischief with the bedroom ceiling fan and the constantly-breaking chain. It broke one too many times and humans got rid of it, bringing home a nice, more powerful, quieter model with a sturdy chain. Just so you know, Sigyn is wrong–my pout is adorable, thank you.

Over the weekend, I got my hands on the humans’ light-up magnifying glass.

A corroded battery weakened the plastic bit you see in my hand. It won’t hold battery #3 in place anymore. The human female tried superglue, putty, and wedging things with little bits of cut-up rubber band. All failures. I could magic it back together, but that would defeat the whole purpose of breaking it in the first place.

I continue to not go anywhere near housework. The felines, however, have been quite helpful recently. Here they are folding clean laundry.

That’s one load that’s going to get to go for a second ride…

The cats are pleasant enough to look at as they are, but I’ve been experimenting a bit with some shape-shifting spells. What do you think, one head apiece or…

Is the two-headed model better?

They do like to conduct mischief in tandem. Covering laptop bags and backpacks with Specialty Fibers is a favorite activity.

I have been working a bit on the canine front as well. At my behest, the neighbor’s off-leash mutt charged and barked and growled at the human female when she was three feet from her own front door. I’ve also chipped away at a different neighbor’s fence boards so that at any given moment, one or both of their barkers may be running loose in the alley, to the detriment of hygiene and vehicular safety.

Pervasive Number Confusion (AKA PNC), the humans’ new bank, continues to set low expectations and fail to meet them. The other day, the humans received an Important Paper Letter in the mail letting them know that they could choose paperless statements. The humans are already paperless.

Balancing the checkbook is going to be easier this month. There will be fewer deposits to add in, since the humans’ monthly retirement checks from TRS failed to show up in either paper or electronically-deposited form. (You will recall that they were receiving actual checks while waiting for the Direct Deposit paperwork to kick in.) The human female contacted TRS, which lived up to its full name of They’re Really Swamped by sending back an e-mail that said that, due to high query volume, someone would probably be able to get back to them in five business days. Or perhaps it’s PNC’s fault? Or Usually Smashes Parcels Significantly? I might know…but I’m not telling! USPS, meantime, has been cheerfully delivering the humans’ mail to other addresses. It’s such fun when things arrive that are correctly addressed but which have been marked “redeliver” by whomever they ended up with first. Funny how the unwanted catalogs and junk mail seem to find the house on the first go….

Ugh. That’s enough for now. It’s October weather out there, and this poor Frost Giant is going to go sit in the freezer for a while. (So don’t be surprised later if the ice cream’s gone.)

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That Was Predictable

Sometimes mischief is unavoidable. When Loki makes plans, it can be very, very hard to thwart them.

Other times, my mischief is detectable from a mile away, and anyone who was trying at all could derail them, if they were willing to expend the effort.

It’s just that, usually, most mortals can’t be bothered to expend the effort.

Case in point. When the humans were finally able to get the roofers to come out and install the new roof, they were advised to remove everything from the walls, since the vibrations from all the shingle-nailing can send pictures and whatnot crashing to the ground.

The humans have a lot of DVDs. They long ago overflowed the designated shelves and had piled up on top of the shelves in touching-the-wall, teetering stacks many Sigyns tall. The human male took the stacks down and put the DVDs in boxes. They overflowed the boxes and formed teetering stacks much closer to the ground.

Because the humans are procrastinators, they have not yet sorted all of them out and returned that corner of the habitation to functionality. They should have known I couldn’t pass up the opportunity…

It was the work of a moment to enlist the aid of one of my furry minions, and less than a moment for said minion to up the chaos coefficient of this domicile.

There is now a nice scatter of cases all over the floor. Well done, Minion! So well done, in fact, that you deserve special recognition. Let us zoom in on the scene to observe my congratulatory placement of a magnet taken from the cold box.

Give credit where credit is due, I always say!

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I Have Trained the Minions Well (Wordless Wednesday)

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Mischief Update: Let’s Revisit Hel Week, Shall We? Part 2: Non-Condestruction-related Items

It wasn’t all home improvement here last week, no indeed. At any given time, I have many, many plans afoot, irons in the fire, and nasty twinkles in my eye. In non-condestruction news:

We were treated to a truly Ragnarok-adjacent thunderstorm here. No hail this time, but it lightninged (Look at that! The spell-checker likes that word!) non-stop for about two hours, with torrential rain and strong, gusty winds. Flannel Cat, of course, retreated behind the sofa. The human female stayed up to watch the show—and to make sure the roof stayed on.

The next morning, the yard was full of yard salad.

Pleas note that most of that is not from the humans’ own trees! When Sigyn and I went for a walk in the neighborhood, we noticed even bigger casualties.

That juniper looks positively bloody inside!

Great Frigga’s Corset! Look how close that water oak came to falling on that house! Bet that made a terrific noise, too! Makes me wish I hadn’t let the humans cut down the big dead one in their backyard. I bet it would be on the roof by now and they’d be negotiating for a new one from under a tarp instead of just some hail-pocked shingles and warpy gutters!

Gravity remains in effect in the bathroom

I am pleased to report that Flannel Cat’s trip to the vet went quite well. She was home and in fine fettle by the end of the day. The loss of a tooth did not seem to bother her much at all. She was most enthusiastic about the temporary substitution of gooshy food for kibble on her daily menu. Taffy Cat took about six days to stop hissing at her for smelling Wrong. In the end, the humans purchased some of the bottled-kitty-happy-pheromones and put it in a diffuser, which seemed to help. It also helped that Flannel Cat will go miles out of her way to sleep on anything that is even a fraction of a millimeter fluffier or softer than its surroundings, so her camping out on a worn T-shirt belonging to the human female, thus:

made her smell enough like Eau de Human Female (ugh!) to be acceptable. The Terror Twins can now be in adjacent zip codes without further contretemps.

I have no doubt that they will soon be back to their ridiculous lounging configurations.

Behold the two-headed beast
Can’t make the bed if it’s occupied

The canvas shopping bags are more coveted even than the cushion, so they must share if both are to recline upon Nirvana. Never mind that 4/10 of Taffy is hanging off.

You’ll recall that the initial trip to the vet with both cats–AKA the Feline Rodeo–resulted in the human female being on the receiving end of a bloody but shallow scratch from Taffy Cat.

Initially it didn’t hurt at all. After a few days, it had begun to twinge. It didn’t look infected, but being who she is, the human female opened a Google search for “cat scratch fever” and started taking notes. Soon, her whole wrist was quite painful and eventually she decided retaining the function of her extremities was more important than the embarrassment of seeking medical attention for something as trivial as the above. Since her primary care doctor was unavailable until the middle of July, she saw someone else, which was was a bit less mortifying. (She was relieved; I was not. I had been looking forward to watching her usual doctor struggle to suppress the epic eye-roll the human female surely deserved.)

And how did that turn out?

Sometimes she’s not as stupid as she looks.

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The Week From Hel, Day 5: Finished…For Now

The whole household was up early today, to get ready to take Flannel Cat to the vet. She can’t have breakfast, and she’s not a fan of the carrier, so she’s not terribly happy. The humans have donned long sleeves to try to get her in the carrier (more Feline Rodeo!), since she left some super scratches on the human male the other day, when he was trying to gather her up and keep her out of the condestruction-fu on Tuesday.

Two and three quarters of a mile of piteous mewing later, and toothache kitty has been dropped off. Next stop–the Super Special Lighbulb and Battery Store. Can they order a replacement bulb that will fit the stitching lamp? They say they can. But we’ll see a) if they can actually get it, b) whether it will fit in the lamp, and c) it actually works. My money is on the silly thing continuing to strobe.

Now to return the Unhappy Bulb. The humans have tried putting in in and taking it out several times, to no avail. Bad bulb! No biscuit!

Well, rats! I was hoping the crap crafts store clerk would tell her she couldn’t return it, not even with the receipt, because she had opened the package. But there was a new person manning the till and she called for instructions on how to do the return, and they gave it to her. No fair.

Now we’re headed for the library. For reasons passing understanding, the human female’s urge to collect small, brightly colored bits of paper again. Foolish woman, you do not need another hobby! She went online and discovered that the local library has all the stamp catalogs that she’s too cheap to buy. You’d think reference books like that would not circulate, wouldn’t you? But no, there they are on the shelf. Took her a while to locate them, though, since they’re not on the shelf marked “Stamps, Photography, and Coins.” The human male is asking her if she really wants to check out ALL of them. Well, yes, she says, she does. That has earned her a monumental eye roll, but the checkout clerk seems to be happy enough to let her have them, so it looks like we’re losing a dining room chair for the duration.

Clara B. Mounce is rolling in her grave.

(later) It’s time to go collect Flannel Cat. Sigyn is extra glad to learn that she only needed one tooth out and came through the extraction $urgery ju$t fine. The vet says that she (the cat, not Sigyn) will need pain med$ and a antibiotic$. Please, oh, please, oh, please let the vet send the humans home with a bottle of that nasty, banana- or bubblegum-flavored amoxicillin liquid that they make for toddlers! I really, really want to see the humans trying to get a ml or two of that into the cat! Banana goop everywhere!

Curses! Foiled! The vet has offered a long-lasting antibiotic $hot instead and the humans leapt at the chance. But they do have the pain meds, and ehehehehe! The bottle is leaking all over the human female! Good show. I was afraid this wouldn’t be fun.

Two and three quarters of a mile of scratchy-throated meowing and we are home again. I’ve told Taffy Cat that Flannel is an impostor and not to be trusted, so there is a great deal of suspicious hissing going on, which is annoying and alarming to the humans, bewildering to Flannel, and vastly amusing to me.

(later) I have relented a bit. The AC repairman has sent the humans the missing paperwork. Nothing from the roofer, however.

(later) Time to give Flannel her pain medication. Does she want to come out and be fussed over?

She does not! Okay human male, get your long sleeves on while the human female draws the medicine up in the syringe.

Or tries to. The humans have found my last bit of mischief for today. The pain medication was dispensed in a teeny little bottle, with a supplied (needle-less) syringe for measuring doses. And the syringe doesn’t fit in he bottle! Not only that, it splattered out a good portion of its contents when the human female opened it to try! The human male is rummaging through his ink sample bottles to find a wide-mouthed one to transfer the liquid into.

And so we conclude with a smaller, shorter, less frantic version of the Feline Rodeo until the patient is safely corralled and hugged and the medicine administered. A few more hisses from Taffy and we are ready to put this week to bed. I’m sure it’s one none of us will ever forget.

No, wait. The porch light just blew out. Now I’m done.

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No. Yes. No. Maybe…

No

…You’re not imagining things.

Yes

…You did pick up the piece of broccoli you dropped and put it in up on the counter in the bowl of things destined for the compost heap.

No

…No one took the compost out.

Maybe

…My minion has clever little paws.

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Who Are the People in Your Neighborhood?

The improved weather is giving us a chance to explore the neighborhood a bit more. There’s a new subdivision south of us that we haven’t visited yet. It’s a nice evening, Sigyn. Let’s go for a walk.

Uh, oh. I don’t have a good feeling about this..

I’ve heard of “going for the rustic look,” but this seems a bit much.

And the new neighbors don’t look too friendly.

Odin’s eyepatch! Definitely NOT friendly!

STOP LICKING MY SWEETIE YOU HIDEOUS CREEP!

Augh! The ugly dog is armed!

Great Frigga’s corset! What a misunderstanding! Apparently, they’re not from around here, and are unused to Midgardian customs. Where they come from, a good bum-licking is how they say “hello.” The exchange of saliva is regarded as a sign of trust and friendship. I don’t see the appeal, but I’m glad not to have to slaughter all of them–my mischief schedule for today is already packed.

Ah, and I guess here comes the Missus.

Greetings, Madam. What a lovely… home you have. I like what you’ve done with the…foundation.

Sigyn is making friends with Auntie Sk’rrbx.

While I have the “pleasure” of introducing myself to Uncle Raaarbaghk.

We should get together and talk weapons over a tankard of ale someday soon.

It’s a growing family. The triplets seem… nice.

Well, it has been “lovely” meeting all of you.

Sigyn, darling, we need to be going. You can come back tomorrow to swap recipes and whatnot.

Well, that was interesting. I can do without the licking, but I think Uncle and I could become very good friends…

Time to get home, though. I’m teaching Taffy Cat how to mangle the blinds.

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What They’ve All Been Up To, Part IV: Choose Your Enemies Wisely

No one has heard from Hawkeye (Clint Barton) is a while. If I know him, he’s probably off just practicing his archery. I hope he put some thought into his target and isn’t just shooting randomly.

Odin’s eyepatch! You’d better not be contemplating shooting my furry minion, birdbrain! I know your practice arrows are blunt, but they still sting. Norns’ nighties! People say *I’m* a villain!

Here’s everyone’s favorite green giant, the Hulk, to try to make nice with the other feline.

“Hulk hug!”

Uh, oh. That tail is a swishin’! Looks like Furry Minion #2 has had enough hugging!

Swat!

Not so much fun when you’re on the receiving end, huh, tough guy?”

Watching other people get into trouble gives me an appetite. I wonder if there’s anything good in the kitchen?

Looks like Marty the Mynah had the same idea. Bug-eyed birdie want a cracker?

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