May 2017

1
Herman @TattleCat’s #Blogpaws Diary Day One
2
Mockingbird Mother’s Day
3
Sherlock Herms Has Gone to #Blogpaws
4
A Mother’s Day Reminder from Adorapurr
5
Wonderpurr Worldwide Blog Interview
6
Sherlock Herms – What Lies Beyond The Doggy Door?
7
Traveling with Cat: Smells Like Punishment
8
The 5 Stages of Grief ~ Cat Style
9
Pole Dancing + Spiked Water Bowl Kind of Pawty

Herman @TattleCat’s #Blogpaws Diary Day One

Hi Everyone! It’s Day One of Blogpaws week.

Wonderpurr.com is a Finalist for Best Pet Humor Blog, so naturally I am very excited to be attending this year’s conference in Myrtle Beach. I’ve had friends who aren’t able to attend ask me to keep them posted, so I thought I’d write a diary.

My fur sibs were under the impression that this was an ordindary Monday just like all the other Mondays…until Mom and Dad started pushing stuff out the front door to pack the van. I, of course, supervised. I felt kinda bad for Dori, as she doesn’t like car rides to the vet, and when she saw the pink carrier come out, she disappeared under something and didn’t come out to say Goodbye to Mom and wish me luck on the Nose-to-Nose Award.

I really had hoped Dori would come with me to Blogpaws this year so I could show off my little sister…I’m so proud of her! Plus she’s very pretty. But Mom says Dori needs to learn not to be afraid of cars before she can go to Blogpaws. Good luck with that happening.

Before we could leave, Dad had to clean litter boxes and do a final check on stuff while Mom fed the Wonderpurr Gang and the soon-to-be mommy raccoons that hang out in our yard…like, all the time cuz why wouldn’t they when food is practically served on a silver platter… Read More

Mockingbird Mother’s Day

 My fenced yard has been chosen by a new mother mockingbird to teach her babies how to survive. That she has chosen a yard where many cats live astounds me.

The other day the baby sat on the fence waiting for direction from his mom. It was near twilight. Clearly the baby bird knew it was supposed to do something but mom wasn’t nearby. The reason: Peaches was perched at the far end of the same fence and had noticed him.

We watched with astonishment as Peaches slowly walked the top of the fence toward the baby. He didn’t fly off to safety, rather sat obediently where his mom had left him. The closer Peaches got the more we feared for the baby mockingbird.

When it became apparent the baby was going to become a trophy kill, Peaches was plucked off the fence and hustled indoors. That’s when the mother mockingbird returned.

This morning the young mother has two babies learning to survive in our yard. They hop along the fence. They fly to the neighbors roof then back to land on a fragile bush not designed to hold the weight of a bird. When the bush limb bounces, the fledgling flaps it’s wings to keep from falling. Nearby, Mom watches with patience. She has a big job ahead of her.

Her Mother’s Day won’t be rewarded with flowers or candy or jewelry or a nice card. No. Her reward will be in the survival of her babies. Their rapid maturity to understand survival.

Her reward will be raising her babies to survive so that they too will live to raise their own babies.

Happy Mother’s Day!

Sherlock Herms Has Gone to #Blogpaws

“Digital EMF Meter… Check! 35mm camera… Check! Digital thermometer and Spirit Box… Check! Litter box, extra litter and pooper scooper… Check!”

“Hwermie! What are yoo doing?”

I glanced up from packing my suitcase to see my little sister Dori looking at me with huge worried eyes. “I’m leaving for Blogpaws next week. There’s a lot to do before we head out.”

She looked ready to cry. “But Hwermie! Dottie is weady to go through the doggy door portal. She needs to know she’s dead. Yoo can’t just zoom off to Blogpaws and leave her there. What if she fweaks out?”

I sighed. “Look, I meant to help her figure out she’s dead before I left for Blogpaws. But then Mom got a lecture gig at some writer’s conference and also a gig with a radio talk show over in Spain of all places. I kinda need her assistance to help Dottie with her issues. It’s not my fault we ran out of time. I was here at home doing my part as a purranormal investigator. If you have to be upset with anyone, be upset with Mom.”

Dori wrung her tabby tail with nervous paws. “Should I spray something?”

“NO! I… Look, honey. I’m sorry we can’t help Dottie this week. Or even next week… I–”

“Two whole weeks! That’s a lifetime in cat years!”

*pulls out pocket calendar* Actually, I can’t schedule Dottie’s problem until June 9th.”

I saw Dori stagger. “I think I’m gonna pass out,” she moaned, making me run to ease her to the floor. “We worked so hawd to get weaders to like us. Now they’re all gonna go away and never come back.”

“No, they won’t abandon us. They’ll be back.”

Dori began to sob. “Our readers might have Atten-Shun Deffy-Sit Dis-Odor. We need to post every week so they don’t fo’get us, Hwermie!” She flexed her claws. “If only I was born with fingers so I could type instead of being born with an amazingly beautiful face. Oh! The twials and twibulations of being born gorjus!” Read More

A Mother’s Day Reminder from Adorapurr

Hi everyone! It’s me, Dori. *wavy paws* I’m here to remind yoo that Sunday, May 14th is a special day. It’s Mother’s Day!

I’m a lucky girl to remember my birth mother. Her name was Annie, and she was black and beautiful! This is her:

This is me when I was a baby. Awww!

It happened one cold December night when Mom found me a Forever Home. She had scouted out the place first, checking out the lady who fed stray cats. That lady turned out to become my human mom. When she decided this would be the purrfect place to… um… dump her kids (cuz she was a hippie-type cat and wanted to be free!) she brought me and my fursibs Patsy, Kepurr and Kopea, along with my daddy, Nikolas, to what’s now my house.

My soon to be human mom took us in, and got most of us homes. She loved me the mostest, so I was plucked from the group (as my fursibs were kinda sorta FERAL) and along with my daddy, we got to stay. My mom and daddy were released into our yard, but while daddy loved having food and shelter, my fur mom Annie wanted to run away to a kitty commune where they sat around a campfire singing Kum By Yah and smoking kitty hooch.

I recall the last time I saw Mom. We had a meal in the upstairs cat room along with daddy Nikolas and my twin Patsy.

Like I said, after she was released, Mom left. Patsy also left. She got adopted by a neighbor. But I was lucky to stay, and lucky to still see my daddy who started a Garage Band with Peaches’ son, Jesse. At night I sometimes hear them playing mewsic. Not wussy indoor cat mewsic, but real mewsic like by Journey, Creedence and ZZ Top.

We didn’t have much time together. Maybe 100 days. And honestly I don’t recall her purr or rough tongue. But she gave birth to me, and that makes her very special. I know we aren’t all lucky to remember our fur moms. Most of us don’t even remember the day we found our Forever Homes. But that shouldn’t mean we don’t take a moment every May and say a paw prayer that we were blessed to be adopted.

So for those of you who don’t know who your real mother’s are, or what happened to them, make sure you honor them by giving your human mom extra purrs of thanks.

Wonderpurr Worldwide Blog Interview

Happy Cinco de Meow-O everyone! I’m so excited, and it has nothing to do with Meowgarita’s and doing the Salsa. Today we are featured on Dash Kitten’s Worldwide Pet Blog intermews. I gotta tell ya, that Harvey Button is a smooth intermewer. So please stop by and read my intermew. It’s not every day a cat like me gets his puss on a famous blog like DashKitten.com.

Click the photo to read my intermew!

Sherlock Herms – What Lies Beyond The Doggy Door?

Previously on Sherlock Herms in Down the Rabbit Hole

I asked the pretty ghost who didn’t realize she was dead, “Would you be interested in traveling to Urbana, Ohio to see the route Abraham Lincoln’s funeral train took in 1865?”

Dottie’s blue eyes sparkled. “My goodness! That sounds like fun. How many days should I pack for?”

“No need for luggage. We’ll be gone just the one day.” My plan was to transport Dottie into the past to witness Abraham Lincoln’s actual funeral.

“But how are you going to explain it to her?” my tabby brother Jack asked later when I mentioned my plans to help Dottie realize she was no longer breathing.

“See, that’s the idea. I don’t explain it. I let her figure it out for herself. How is it possible for her to be in the past when she was born 108 years after the dood died?” Read More

Traveling with Cat: Smells Like Punishment

My husband is a fan of University of Michigan football.  Ray bleeds maize and blue.

In 2012 we drove to Crawfordsville, Indiana to watch Michigan v. Purdue. Sounds nice…driving to Indiana to enjoy a Michigan game during a fabulous fall day. Of course with us…it’s not that simple.

Here’s The Bigger Story:

Two days before we left for Indiana I was at the vet with our tuxedo, Cookie. It didn’t look good. In fact, it looked like The End.

Cookie had been sick for most of that year from mold poisoning in our home, plus a zillion other allergies I had no idea he had. Despite allergy shots, clearly he wasn’t  going to be around much longer. That day he had a 103 fever and was under 8 pounds. My vet looked exhausted, and I certainly was. If Cookie had to be euthanized, Ray was prepared to leave work to be there for him.  Ray was Cookie’s most favorite human in the whole world. However, after Cookie stopped the doctor from sucking the gook out of his nose, it was determined there was still some fight left in the old boy, and he got a reprieve.

Friday afternoon we loaded our diabetic tabby, Buddy, then age 21, and Cookie, age 15, into our van. Known as the POS Van in winter, and The Steaming Pig in summertime when the livin’ ain’t easy cuz the average temperature is 99 degrees, this van (still running five years later) represents Ray’s upbringing from his father. Why junk it if it still runs? It doesn’t have much heat (only in the back) or air conditioning. At all. The driver’s window does not roll down, and the back vent windows and sliding doors work only when the moon is in the Seventh House and Jupiter aligns with Mars. The backseat was junked years ago (long story). So naturally this is the vehicle of choice to drive to Indiana.

Read More

The 5 Stages of Grief ~ Cat Style

This past weekend I asked my Mom for something and she said “NO!” I don’t hear that word too often. I mean, I’m Herman!!! <– note my 3 exclamation marks, I never go anywhere without them.

Anyway, hearing the ‘N’ word kinda shook me right down to the tip of my floofy tail. It’s a nasty word. Especially when it means being denied something you really really want.

With that thought, I created my own version on the 5 Stages of Grief. Feel free to tell me what NO’s have lead to your purrrsonal grief.

Pole Dancing + Spiked Water Bowl Kind of Pawty

The Wonderpurr Gang wanted to shake our tails this weekend, so I donated two huge quarters to send our pawrents out of the house for a few hours. While they were gone, we rocked the house! Check meowt!

The Garage Band…Jesse and Nikolas with Opie on rhythmn and Frank on drums…played a full set of Stray Cat tunes. Stray Cat Strut always brings down the house.

Since joining our gang last year, Candy has gotten quite the reputation as a Party Girl. Read More

Copyright © 2011-2017. Wonderpurr Life Publishing.