Adventures of Milo, the Curious Kitten Cat who's Lazy & Sweet

Jen & Mike went to Hawaii and since Jen's other cat, Sophie, turned into a terrorist after moving in with her mom, Milo couldn't stay there. Rather than have Jen pay a kennel $20 a day, I told her to bring Milo over here and promised her we wouldn't lose him like we lost my mom and dad's cats that one time.

The first day Milo paced from room to room, probably looking for his mom. His favorite spot was under the sofa in the study, but every now and then he'd come out of hiding, tell us like it is, and then retreat.

I guess under the sofa just stopped being interesting to him because on the second day, he decided to spend some time with us in the living room. Well, maybe not with us, but at least in the same room with us. He crawled his manly kitten body up on my knitting basket and has spent a couple of hours every day since laying there.
It is very cute when he's up there, especially because his body is a little too big for the basket lid so sometimes he has to dip his head into one of the side compartments (which, since my knitting basket is actually a picnic basket, is usually where the wine goes).
On Day 3, Milo was starting to warm up to us. We felt like we had a good sense of his personality at this point, so I asked Mack what type of job he thought Milo would do if he worked. I was thinking something like interior design, but Mack felt he was better suited for massage therapy.

He found a new spot on a shelf in the coffee table and was content to lounge around in there while keeping an eye on us. Sometimes he would even let us rest a toe on him but only if we were very still and he was very tired.
After those first few days, Milo became a bonafide member of the family. The sweetest, funniest, softest, most wonderful member of the family. And while I know that his mom is going to swoop down and rip us apart in just a few days, I'm coping by looking for pet-friendly plane tickets to Mexico with Milo.
This is how life is with Milo now.

He comes in and walks on us at around 10 a.m. instead of coming in and meowing at us at 6 a.m. like he did those first couple of days. At around 10:30 I wake up and give him food, water, his pill, and lots of pets. Our early morning affection session has become one of my favorite parts of the day. The little big kitten is such a lover, and he likes to be held like a baby and nuzzle noses and just be a lump of special. Then while I get dressed, he talks to me, telling me about all the things he thinks live in the fireplace and explaining that he's been staring at that spot on the wall because it's where the creepies come in.
We go about our day, and while I'm in my office, he'll come in and sit on the back of my chair. Then he'll lay under Mack's computer chair and wrestle with his feet. Then we'll give him some fish and watch him go fish crazy. I think he prefers tuna to cod... at least I prefer tuna fish crazy to cod fish crazy.

At night, when we curl up on the sofa to watch Daisy of Love or Burn Notice, he settles in next to us, sometimes taking up most of the couch and sometimes making a nest out of our bodies.
Last night while he was sitting on top of some pillows, he took a gentle bite of my hand and slept with it in his mouth for probably 15 minutes. When it fell out, he re-bit it and did the same thing all over again. And then I took a look at his little finger and thought, "Damn, how did I get there?"

Daisy of Love & the Boy Who Lives Under the Bed

Jen and Mike bought a mansion and since movers and deliverers and realtors and buyers and sellers were all going to be swirling in and out of multiple homes this week, Mack and I opened Camp Kitty back up for business.

And this time, we had TWO guests.

Milo is older and more fraidy cat this time than he was on his last visit, but to be fair, it's only day 5 and he usually doesn't come full out until day 6. Also, every time he comes out, I sneeze and he freaks and there are setbacks. Also, every time he comes out, Daisy whoops on him and I laugh at him and there are more setbacks. So, this is the most we've seen of Mr. Handsome.
Daisy of Love, on the other hand, is like a kitty shadow. She is everywhere. She's on the potty with you, in the sink while you brush your teeth, on the edge of the tub while you bathe, on the counter while you make tacos.
She helps me with work, helps me wash dishes, helps me sweep. And most of all, she's helped me find things like candles and toy cars that had rolled under furniture and been forgotten.
Like all cats, she seems to have a special bond with Mack and appreciates his donkey-like carrying abilities. Normally she jumps onto his shoulder while he's at his computer studying, but once she leapt from the counter in the kitchen while he was at the stove. She tries to get me when I walk past the couch and I have the claw marks that prove I am no good for shoulder riding.
Like Milo, she seems to have a special thing for Mack's stinky gym bag. Maybe it's the aroma of cat pee judo gi that makes her feel at home???
Unlike Milo, she has had no problem whatsoever settling in and snuggling up to us. She spends chunks of the day on my computer chair with me, forcing me to sit hanging off the front of it so she can lay down on the back of it. Yes, I know who's boss.
At about 9 o'clock she and Milo get wet food, and then Daisy chases Milo into the bedroom and pounces all over him. There's snarling, followed by thumping noises, and all my good intentions to learn acid-base balance goes right out the window. It's like my own little Animal Planet performance, right at the foot of the bed.

Here they are doing another thing they do called Get the Tail of the Cat on the Seat and Bite the Legs of the Chair... Also Take Breaks to Clean Yourself.These are two of the funniest little cats I have ever met. So Jen, no, we will not be meeting you or Mike or your mom as planned because I am not going to be able to give these things back to you. Sorry. Go enjoy your appliance corral.

Miller High Life

Until last weekend I hadn't seen Jen since I met Milo. During the swirl of events leading up to her wedding, I got to see her on an almost weekly basis, but since that's died down and she's shifted from Miller to Kelly and been running marathons and adopting cats like some kind of addict, our visits had become way too infrequent.

So, this past weekend we planned a little girly get-together in Cincinnati at Jen's house, where the kitties make you want to steal and the main ingredient in all the food is love. I've visited Jen everywhere she has ever lived, and every time I look forward to it like it's a vacation. I know I'm going to sleep in a bed cleaner than any bed I've ever slept in, eat delicious foods made from scratch and come to know a relaxation that my chaos coping mechanisms won't allow.

It's a little joke between us that the only thing missing from Jen retreats is the chocolate on the pillow. Well, this weekend, Jen had even paid attention to that little detail.

Let me just tell you how it started. I clunked around Saturday morning in a rush to get some work done and get out of town. I left a mess of a dollhouse in the corner and undone dishes in the sink, threw my toothbrush and some clothes in a shopping bag, and hopped in the car. To go from that frenzy state to a Jen state literally lifts the fog out of your mind.

I walked into Jen's house, which is remarkably comfortable despite its pristine state, and was greeted by the smell of homemade minestrone soup on the stove top. And, since that just wouldn't look pretty enough in a bowl by itself, Jen had baked up a fresh loaf of basil beer bread to go with it. She'd also already been on a 7 mile jog that morning.
To recap, I had sat on a computer, grabbed my toothbrush, and driven to Cincinnati in the same time Jen had run 7 miles, made a homemade soup and baked a loaf of bread.

While the bread was finishing baking, Jen pulled out some veggies and prepped a breakfast casserole for the next morning. I drank a V8.
At that point I asked if she wanted to marry me and Mack and be our wife. Or, if Mack was a deal breaker, would she just marry me and bring Milo to replace Mack?

Lucky for Mike, she's happily married.

Since I've been having kitty fever, a condition which can be directly blamed on Jen, I was super excited to also visit Milo and meet Daisy (of Love). Since kitty sitting Milo, Mack and I have joked that when we do get a cat, we need to send it to Jen to get it the right way. We will ruin it. We ruin anything we're supposed to take care of for more than 12 consecutive hours.
Those two cats. That's all I can say. They lick each other and wrestle each other and vie for the seat in front of the back door and play tug of war with a shoe string. They are Pete-and-Repeat at ridiculous proportions. Daisy would lay on the window sill, which was barely big enough for her tiny body... Milo would lay on the window sill, with half of him resting lopsided on the back of the couch.
The kitty watching was a blast, but we did venture out of the house to go to the Art Museum and see the impossible things people do with wood. Then we went to the Krohn Conservatory and learned about bonsais. Then we went out for Thai food. Finally we retreated back to the Jen Inn and got down to the serious business of relaxing with a glass of wine while watching a funny movie.

Finally, I got some Jen time.

Keeping the Kellys on My List of People I Love and Am Jealous Of

A couple weekends ago I headed to Cinci to squeeze in some Jen time and make sure my boyfriend Milo and my partner in crime Daisy (of Love) were adjusting to their new digs alright.

True to form, Milo ignored me, Daisy (of Love) started trouble, and Jen spoiled me rotten in her very appreciated Martha Stewart way.

 

That minestrone is so good and warm and the color and taste of fall that Jen posted the vegan-adaptable recipe on her blog. She also posted it because she is on the ball at all times and never two weeks behind on putting up her posts. 

Once we got full bellies, we headed up the road to the giant box of efficiency and organization genius known as Ikea. I love that Jen is as excited by miniatures and Swedish space maximization techniques as I am, if for no other reason that it makes that yearning I have for being a professional organizer seem less ridiculous.

We walked through every square inch of that store, and I picked up some canisters, hand towels, and a much-needed (and so far very used) kitchen table and two chairs... all for $100.

I love these little mini-visits with Jen. Life gets to be so freaking chaotic sometimes, but with Jen, it's like you're appreciating the little things every single minute.

Kitty Fever

Dear Jennifer,

Please give me Milo again. I'm in desperate need of some fluffy kitty sized love and can't guarantee I won't be going to the humane society tomorrow.

I neeeeeed one of these.
Love,
Amber

TIA

Ghana. West Africa. "We welcome everyone. If you are a pedophile or a sexual deviant, you are not welcome." Women with babies on their backs and baskets on their heads. Red orange dirt roads, pot holes, tro tros so full people exit through windows. Groundnut stew. Two Ghana cedi. Goats napping in the middle of the road. Castles, ruins, slavery. Vibrant wooden canoes that take a village to launch. Villages on stilts. Boat rides through the ominous stillness of a jungle. Lagoons known as maternity wards. Life is strong in Africa. Monkeys at the Dutch-run sanctuary. "The only animal I ever took care of before this was a goldfish." Sweeping garbage into the gutter. Cooking over an open fire, even in the middle of a city. Ideas, Confidence, God Knows Best Bicycle Workshop. Machetes and naked men walking from where to where. Obruni, obruni, obruni! Black Stars and impromptu football games against kids in underwear and flannel shirts. Radio outbursts, rasta versions of Celine Dion, a strange fascination with country music. "If it's not on, it's not in." Coconuts for lunch. Kola nuts. Coffins for sale where you buy your bed. Don't shit about, but if you do happen to shit your pants just take them off and leave them on the side of the road. Inner city cattle drives. Half-finished buildings made of concrete blocks that now have corn growing out of the floors. Cooking lessons with Nana. Star beer. Dan the Pancake Man and his friend Frank the Juice Man. Two hundred year old rainforest trees. A canopy walk through Kakum National Forest, with monkeys jumping around the treetops below. Vic Baboo's Cafe with food so good you don't mind the giant rat passing through the dining room. A laundry debacle that lasted three days. The Unofficial Squirrel Rescue Organization. Universe serendipity and meeting the Las Vegas angels. Nigerian movies featuring demonic possession or domestic violence. Morning wake up calls courtesy of roosters. A feverish night spent in a rank prison cell at Al Hassan hotel. Green oranges, hard boiled eggs, onion crackers, Guiness Malta, Milo. "The future is our middle name." The 3am call to prayer during the 3am walk to the bus station. Navigating the female urinal for the first time. Mud huts, bucket showers, yams and red sauce. Lisa, Ann-Katrine, Oliver, Joke, Capito. Afternoons spent playing cards, drinking Obama water, cleaning wounds. Ozzie in his sweatshirt, no underwear, playing football. A walking safari that was one of the most incredible days of my life. Swimming elephants, baboons, warthogs, tse tse flies, antelope, water bucks, bush bucks, black cobras, walking elephants. Hiking through mint. Iamfinethaaaaankyou. Being serenaded with If You're Happy and You Know It in exchange for bouncy balls and silly bands. Bed bugs. Mack the Magic Man. Drinking beer on the roof, waiting for the Milky Way. Cape Coast, Beyin, Busua, Accra, Kumasi, Tamale, Larabanga, Mole.