With help from the cats, I killed five wasps today, but there are at least three more on the loose. I took a walk around the outside of the office and found a gorgeous paper wasp nest under the eave at the back corner. I say gorgeous because it was beautifully built, almost perfectly round, about the size of a grapefruit. I regret having to destroy something that lovely, but I can't take the risk.

Actually, Randy took the risk. He went up on a ladder and doused it with poison deathray.

With some help from the cats, I've killed five wasps inside my office, but there are still two more on the ceiling. I have to figure out where they're coming from! The cats are good at spotting them in the air, and also very good at finding them on the floor. I've gotten four wasps on the floor thanks to the cats. I looked down from my keyboard at one point and saw Saffy about to eat one only a foot away from me. I quickly dispatched and removed it. I whacked one with a broom when it settled far enough down on a wall to reach it.

Opal has almost completely given up on fetching the mousie. She brought it to me this morning for the first time in ages, but when I tossed it, she didn't bother to fetch. Saffy remains the most enthusiastic and plays fetch the fishie almost every day. Just as I was lamenting that Zoe has lost interest, she bounced onto my desk with the fishie. She fetched it once, but on the second throw, she got distracted and that was that.

Tom did something I've never seen before -- he played! He got wildly playful, with emphasis on the wild. He's not exactly gentle. I have a couple of holes in my hand to show for it. We got a string out for him and he had a great old time chasing that.

My non-fun for the day was cleaning the hideous butt of Theseus. It took several tries, starting with scissors, graduating to the shearing clippers, and finishing off with more scissor work. He can now walk around without the trailing miasma of crap emanating from his nether regions. Bast, what a mess.

Poor Kate, I almost gave her a heart attack. She was sleeping along the top of my keyboard and I tried to gently move a rear paw off one of the keys. She almost turned inside-out, she jumped so hard.

I dispatched the last two wasps or hornets (whatever they are). As I was leaving the office last night, I found one perched on the edge of a torchiere. I zapped it with some ant spray and smushed it when it hit the ground. This morning, Simon found the other one. It was crawling on the floor with Simon batting at it and sticking his nose at it. None of my cats have any concept of an insect that can fight back. I lifted the large catbox, the wasp crawled under it and I dropped the catbox on it. Worked great.

But Saffy has found yet another wasp today. It's currently on the ceiling far above me.

Sapphire gave Simon a run for this money the Broom Slaying department. I guess she figured that if he attacks it, it must be dangerous and she should attack it, too. Makes it hard to sweep the floor around here, between the two of them.

Speaking of Simon...he's an imp. A djinn in the guise of a cat. I hereby promote Puck to Lord of Mischief because Simon has fully taken over as the Prince of Mischief. I think Simon spends all his spare time figuring out what he can get into next. He tipped over the trash, leaving me a mess of styrofoam peanuts, food cans, shredded paper towels, shredded plastic bags and other detritus to clean up first thing in the morning. He ripped open two of the bags of chicken feed that I use as cat litter, making another wonderful mess. He had to audacity to go back to rip at the hole some more while I was watching. After being soundly yelled at, he retired to the door where he proceeded to rip out pieces of the plastic foam insulation I had sprayed into the cracks in the concrete.

An imp, I tell you.

PHOTOS!!! Simon, Sapphire, Puck, Ariel, Pippin, Opal, Zoe and Bob.

Zoe, Saffy and Jetta rescued me from a wasp. I had seen it drifting lazily through the air in my office the day before, then couldn't find it again. I'm seriously, dangerously allergic to yellowjacket stings, so I imagine it would be just as bad were I to be stung by any other kind of wasp. I was uneasy about knowing there was one around somewhere. Then I saw the Three Mousketeers follow a flying something and pinpoint where it had landed on the side of a cabinet. I looked and there it was. I grabbed a PS2 game box and walloped it. No more wasp! Good girls.

Yikes! Jetta and Simon have spotted ANOTHER ONE! But it's way up by the high ceiling and out of reach. Where the hell are they coming from? No, there's TWO! Gak! I hope the cats don't get too close and get stung.

The fire is either under control or has moved away from us after a couple of hotspots flared up yesterday. At any rate, I think I can stop worrying about evacuation, but it does bring home to me the need for more carriers. I need to gradually acquire more, preferably the kind that can be folded flat. Otherwise, I have no clue where I'd put them all.

A couple of friends suggested putting a cat into a pillowcase for transport. My mind boggles at the thought. I might see it in an absolute emergency, but I can just image how well any of my moggies would take to being tied in a pillowcase!

After I removed the one box of styrofoam peanuts, the Horde found a second box of them that I didn't know was on the shelves and proceeded to spread those peanuts around the office. I cleaned up the mess and got rid of that box. However, I was still finding the remnants of peanuts around the office each morning until I found the culprit.

Simon has learned to jump onto a certain bookshelf which gives him perfect access to one of my tall wastebaskets. From there, he simply helped himself to some of the peanuts I had swept up. I was also finding shredded paper towels and other goodies he was fishing out of the trash. He has a streak of mischief in him.

The day was beset with crises. That's crises, plural. I don't have the time or energy to recount it all yet again, so I'm going to refer everyone to the explanation in my LiveJournal post.

Simon is the Mighty Broom Slayer. He has decided that the broom is a menace that must be pounced upon and disembowelled, but only when I'm using it.

The moggies have been getting into the styrofoam peanuts again. I've spent the past two days cleaning up peanuts or their remnants. I clean up one batch and pretty soon there's a second batch.

And fighting off more ant invasions, too. There's no end to the fun!

The little black cat has made himself very much at home in our yard. He demands attention, which he gets. He throws shin blocks at me if I try to walk way, or lunges up and grabs at my arm with his front paws. He's a character. He purrs and drools and rolls over to have his belly rubbed.

As Randy and I were coming home from our walk at dusk, we saw our neighbor's dog chase the little black cat up the side street where he lives. I've been meaning to track down his people, so I walked over there and made the acquaintance of a very nice tattooed young man, Jeremy. I've learned that the cat's name is...wait for it...BOB. Yes, Bob. So we have a Tom and a Bob. Bob is a couple of years old and Jeremy rescued him from an abusive situation. You'd never know he'd been an abused cat! Jeremy has two cats and hoped Bob wasn't bothering us. We had a nice chat. It sounds as though Bob has Jeremy well trained and is now training us as his back-up human slaves. At any rate, we no longer have to worry about the cat. We know he has a good home and now we know what to call him. If I can keep from laughing.

It was one of those moments when you'd sell your soul for a videocamera. Opal and Pippin were sitting at the top of the stairs in identical poses watching an insect above them, eyes up, ears perked, their heads moving back and forth, back and forth in unison like spectators at a tennis match.

The moggies knocked over one of my torchieres. I came into the office and found it lying across the metal oil radiator that I use in the winter. The only light I have for this room are three torchieres, so I can't afford to lose one. The fluorescent bulb had popped out and was lying on the floor. The control switch was smashed open (the original dial switch broke a long time ago, so I had to add a new control switch to the power cord).

I plugged the bulb back in, but it wouldn't come on. I tried the bulb in one of the other torchieres and it worked, so I knew the bulb was good. I put another bulb into the torchiere and this time it was fine. But I had numb fingers from when I flicked off the switch, not realizing the bare wires inside were exposed. I tried putting on a new switch today, but I can't get it to work. Very annoying. At least the light itself is working.

I decided to slightly rearrange where the torchiere had been standing. It was right next to the door, an easy place to be knocked over and it was continuously in the way whenever Puck was trying to get out and I needed to block him. Instead, I moved a large, upright tool chest over about a foot, then moved the torchiere between the tool chest and a bookcase. Perfect! It's protected. Better yet, I discovered another set of power outlets that had been hidden behind the tool chest. That let me get rid of a large extension cord that had been snaking clumsily through a crowded part of the office. A much better arrangement all around, thanks to the destructive mogs.

As usual, the cats love to use the cat boxes while I'm trying to clean them. I was sitting at one box cleaning it when Zoe left a smelly dump in the box right next to me. She did an enthusiastic job of covering up, so enthusiastic that she showered me with sprays of litter.

Simon raced around the office like a loon this morning. I was delighted to see Jetta join in the chase. She never actually went so far as to catch him, but at least they were romping together.

Earlier this evening, I was giving Tom-Tom his usual petting. He decided to roll in the grass, so I went over to rub his belly. Randy thought we were still on the porch and turned on the sprinkler that was right next to us. Aaaiiiee! I don't know who moved faster, Tom or me. He alighted on top of the fence and gave me a disgruntled, cock-eared look. I petted him up and assured him that I was as wet as he was! He decided it wasn't my fault and forgave me. ;)

At this point, Jetta's eye is almost completely back to normal. She favors it the slightest bit, but the inflammation is gone. It's funny, the more I bother her, the more she seems to want to be around me. I pry her eye open, then I harrass her with brush and comb because her coat is a mess. Yet here she is, right next to the keyboard.

Puck ZOOOOOMED out the door this morning. I let him play lawnmower for a few minutes. I brought him back inside where he promptly horked up the grass. I wish I knew what deep need is satsified in cats when they eat grass and throw it up five minutes later. Nobody quite seems to know. I sure don't.

Got up this morning, called the vet's right away and made an appointment for the afternoon. When I got out to my office, I found that Jetta's eye was significantly better. I cancelled the appointment and saved myself the trip, but I swear she's doing this to drive me crazy.

It looks like I may be taking a drive to the vet tomorrow after all. It's been nearly a week and Jetta's eye remains inflamed. I'm not happy with the lack of progress. Poor little girl. I hope the vet can get her in on such short notice, but that's one thing I like about this vet -- they always find time for me if I think it's urgent.

Tom is still here. He only shows up at night, so I haven't called his people. Bowie and the little black cat are also showing up regularly.

Pippin likes chasing the catnip bubbles. When Randy gets out the bottle, Pippin sits at his feet and meeps at him to blow bubbles. After awhile, I think Pippy gets frustrated because there's never anything there when he pounces on the elusive bubbles. That's why Randy gives him some real catnip afterwards.

Opal, however, continues to watch this activity with a large measure of distrust. I don't think she knows what to make of the bubbles, but she knows they get her wet when they pop!

Jetta's eye looked better this morning, though still somewhat inflamed. Tonight it looks a little better still. I'm thinking we may have avoided the trip to the vet.

Simon found an interesting new toy to play with -- a dried-up hairball! Ewwww....

Speaking of the Silver Prince, he's getting more and more playful. I think there was even a small bit of romping going on with Saffy and Jetta the other day. I keep hoping.

Zoe was rolling around being cute on my desk when she set a cascade effect of cat freak-out into motion. She knocked a paperweight off my desk which startled her and knocked over the plastic tub I use to cover my keyboard which made Zoe launch off the desk knocking over my large rolodex and a few other objects which scared the bejeezus out of poor Kate who was sleeping down below for a total of about half a minute of cat panic.

Ariel has been careful to offer me no second chance at all of committing the unpardonable sin of petting her.

Short on time, so I must be quick. Two things: Tom is still here; and Jetta's eye looks a little better.

Jetta's eye looks the same this morning, meaning it hasn't gotten any better. I'm going to stop using the ointment in case she has the same problem that Unicom had with certain eye ointments and is allergic to it.

Happy Birthday to Simon as of the 6th. He's theoretically now a year old. I wonder how much more he might grow. At the moment, he's the smallest cat I have.

We were gone all day, from early morning to late night, on Thurs. Of course, it doesn't matter how tired I am or how late we drag in, I still have to tend to the Horde. That's when I discovered that Jetta has hurt her left eye. The inner eyelid is red and inflammed. I'm using eye ointment on it, but it's not looking much better yet. If it's still that inflammed by Monday, she goes to the vet.

Tom may be going back to his new home for the second time. His previous people showed up here yesterday, having been given a deadline by which to remove the last of their stuff from the garage across the street. My next door neighbor made a point of calling across to them to let them know that Tom was here. I went out and had a long chat with them.

They were astounded that Tom had somehow gotten all the way from their new place to here. It simply never occurred to them that he could have done that. When he disappeared from the other place, they assumed a coyote had gotten him. She told me how she first found him, when he was a tiny kitten limping and hopping his way down the middle of the main street through town. She stopped the car to rescue him.

It was mid-afternoon, when Tom rarely appears. We called him to no avail. She gave me her new phone number, so that I can call her when he shows up and she can come over for him. He showed up around 8:30 last night. I dutifully called, but by that time of night she has kids in bed and no way to get here, even if she had someone to watch the kids.

At this stage, I'm reluctant to keep calling, yet I feel I have an obligation to do so. We'll see how it goes.

The little black cat has totally adopted us. He lives on our porch nearly all the time now and waits for us to come out. He's an affection sponge. When either one of us goes out of the yard, he follows us to the gate, then sits in the yard and waits for us to come back. Today he took some whacks at me because I kept walking toward my office (after petting him first!), then threw himself between my feet and almost sent me onto my face.

He's a sweetheart, but a little bit aggressive and possessive. He continues to give Tom a hard time. However, Randy said that at one point today the black guy made one of his bluff charges at Tom and Tom finally got fed up. He turned to face the black cat who literally skidded to a stop. [g]

Randy needed to borrow the tough, old vacuum cleaner from my office. While we were getting the VC out the door, Puck slipped out. The first thing he did was pouff up and head for the little black cat. Fortunately, Randy and I were able to round up Puck and I got hold of him before mayhem could ensue.

Yesterday, our nice neighbors across the street told us there was a mama cat and some kittens in the yard just up and across from them. We saw two adult cats, but no kittens then. It's a house that no one lives in. Whoever owns it shows up about once a year to do some maintenance and the rest of the time it's empty. The yard is well fenced with everything padlocked, so there was no way to go into the yard to check. This makes it a very safe space for the cats.

Today as I headed up the street on my walk, I saw two adorable kittens in the yard, along with the two adult cats. One was a brown tabby and the other a marbled orange tabby in patches over white. I figured about eight to ten weeks old. I walked around to the other side of the house (it's on a corner) to see whether I could spot more kittens. I was figuring out how to start trapping them, on the assumption they're feral. The neighbor who lives in the house behind that one asked me what I needed. It turns out they're her cats and not feral at all. They go freely back and forth between the two yards. I've spoken with her before. She has four cats and a bunch of chihuahuas, and now the two kittens.

She said they're ten weeks old and she's about to find homes for them (and get mama cat fixed through Cause4Cats). As we spoke, the tabby tried to worm his way through the hurricane fencing to get to us. He got his head and part of a shoulder through, realized he was stucked, eeped, then backed out of it. Next, the two of them found a drain pipe that leads from the yard to the road and came up it. The orange one was too shy and scampered off. The tabby batted at my finger. The neighbor called him to her and I was able to give him some scritchies while she held him. He's adorable. I suspect she may end up keeping him. She's already got him named -- Gato.

And I am tremendously relieved because they're not feral and I don't have to worry about them. Thank you, Bast, for small favors.

Randy said he heard Opal crying and crying to be let into his office last night. When he opened the door, he found that she had brought him not one, but two mousies and laid them at his doorstep. Now she knows that bribery works. LOL.

Last night I got out the laser pointer and let the moglets chase the firebug around. Simon was more outgoing about it this time. I admit to laughing at the sight of the moglets skidding around on the concrete floor trying to change direction on a dime. Puck has become too grown-up and jaded to chase the firebug. Theseus likes to chase it, but he's put off by the young cats darting around him.

Ariel remains in Deep Hiding, barely making an appearance. I have truly offended her sensibilties.

Henh...Saffy made a bluff charge at Simon and all he did was chirp at her. Then, like a typical teenager, he took a whack at her. Like the boy who thinks that the way to show a girl he likes her is to pull her hair.

So far the votes on Simon's arbitrary birthday are running four in favor of the 6th and two in favor of the 4th. At this point, I'm leaning towards the 6th. He'll be one year old, and I'll be...uh...we aren't going to talk about that. Older than I want to be. ;)

As I was about to leave the office last night, I found that the cats has discovered a large box of rubber bands that I had foolishly left on a bottom shelf. They're thin rubber bands, ideal for scattering hither and anon, which they had. I spent some time cleaning them up and put the box theoretically out of reach. Of course, it's nearly impossible to put anything out of reach of a determined cat.

Simon got playful this morning. He was racing around trying to get one of the girls to play with him. He got into a tussle with Sapphire that could have been playful if she would have taken it that way, but she got defensive. About ten minutes later, all hell broke loose. I had to rescue Simon from Puck, who was beating up on him. Sigh...

Opal is determined to get out the front door. She's made several attempts. After what happened to Nefreet, you can imagine how anxious we are about this. Nefreet was an experienced outdoor cat, yet she managed to get herself killed when she got outside here. Opal hasn't been outside since we caught her at six weeks old. We worry a lot about what could happen should she get out.

When I came in for lunch, Randy informed me that the crazy neighbors had made a reappearance at their old house across the street to haul off more stuff they'd left behind. That led us to wondering about Tom. We know Tom still hangs out at the house because that was his home. We thought he may have been waiting for his people to come back. I'd be surprised if Tom didn't make himself known when his people were there, unless he was off sleeping in some other location. And if they did see that Tom was there, would they have taken him with them?? We're now waiting to see whether Tom shows up here again. If not, we can guess they took him. If he does show up, as far as I'm concerned it means he is no longer their cat. While we can't quite consider him our cat, we do feel responsible for him and we'll take steps to take care of him.

LATER: Tom is still here. The little black cat and Tom have been asking for lots of petting, and getting it.

Simon needs an arbitrary birthday. I can only guess at his real age, but I've decided to give him his one year birthday either on the 4th (and make him a July 4th baby) or on the 6th (and let him share my birthday). I'll take a poll. Which should it be - the 4th or the 6th?

Ariel is making me pay for my audacity of yesterday. If I so much as look in her direction, she runs. She's not letting me get within five feet of her.

We have a corps of ferals who are regulars now: Bowie of the blue and gold eyes, Toby the Tabby, and Smokey the Siamese. Those are three that we trapped and fixed. Once in a while, a pale orange tabby shows up. He probably needs the TNR treatment.

Then we have the tame regulars -- Tom, of course. Poor guy is as hungry for attention as he is for food. I can't remember whether I've mentioned the affectionate young black male who's been coming by. He has Pippin's coloring but Opal's Oriental build. We see him consistently at a house about half a block away down a side street, so he probably belongs to someone, though he doesn't have a collar. He can soak up the petting and attention. And he drools. [g] He almost folllowed me into my office last time he was here. I don't think that would have gone over too well.

Simon doesn't yowl much any more while I'm in the office, but when I leave for the night, he wails and wails. The office window is open for the cool air and I can hear him yowling for me to come back.

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