Stupid TV Commercial # 34

OK folks - it's Christmas time, and that means trees with toys that we are not allowed to play with, more crap in the way of our cat vantage points, and knick-knacks everywhere.  Generally I try and make the best of this time of year, but sometimes it just gets to be too much.

Case in point - TV commercials get even stupider this time of the year, if such a thing is possible.  Take the latest from candle company Glade.

What was in those candles anyway?

Korbin might like these candles a lot - they are apparently spiced with something.  Myself, I would be a little disturbed if my Christmas stuff started flying around the house when I lit a candle.  It might even dissuade me from buying those candles.  I would certainly quit using them if they made snowmen come to life and peer into my windows.  Other cats in my yard are bad enough, I don't need animated snow freaks wandering around out there.  And little flying reindeer cookies would be way too much for me.  I'd have to knock them out of the sky, much like any little birdies that make their way into my castle.

Stupid commercial.

Miss Mayzie's Adoption Week

Hello readers, Korbin here. I have decided to take another shot at blogging after I overheard the buzz on Miss Mayzie's Adoption Week. This is an important project even if it is being spearheaded by a dog (you can find all the details here). Basically, she is trying to promote pet adoption by asking all of us bloggers to showcase an animal who needs a forever home. If we win a random draw at the end of the adoption week, she will donate$100 to whatever rescue organization we want.

So after doing a little searching online, I decided to showcase the coolest Maine Coon I could find in our area. He has a pretty awesome name too - his name is "After Midnight", and you can read all about him here. His profile is short on details but I decided to pick him because:

a. he has such an awesome name

b. he obviously enjoys his 'nip - "After Midnight" was a song that was performed by a couple of humans like Clapton and Marley, and they certainly enjoyed their version of 'nip

c. his picture is sideways. He clearly marches to the tune of a different drummer

Non-conformist Maine coons rule

So if you are thinking about getting yourself a cool cat then look no further. Also check out the dog's blog to see who else is posting pets that are up for adoption.

Peace out.

'nip

It's been awhile since I had some good 'nip. I was having some pretty strong cravings the other day but my stash is away in the cupboard, much higher than I can jump. So I guess this video will have to suffice.

The fresh stuff is much better than the dried packaged stuff. At our old house we grew our own but this new place is different. Too many neighbors for that kind of thing. But look at that 'nip party - those guys are really having fun. Some of them are having a bad trip though - all that swatting and growling.

... wait did he say tomcat urine? Man I don't need to know these things!

Weird Word Wednesday # 16

My triumphant return is at hand! This time, I am taking over something that can never be taken away from me!

Weird Word Wednesday!

Why can't it be taken away from me, you ask? Because I'm only going to do it once and then give it up. This sort of dedication is not to be had from a cat - especially one as important as me.

Anyway, this week's weird word is "dreadlocks". Dreadlocks are a hairstyle that humans have when they decide they want to be lazy and not clean themselves anymore. Growing hair that isn't brushed or cleaned tangles and gets all nappy, and for some reason is referred to as dreadlocks.

Now supposedly this has something to do with two words that were combined in the 1960's - dreads and locks - and that's why we have the word dreadlocks, which have little to do with nappy hair. To me it sounds more like human gibberish (you should hear them talk to the dogs). But dreadlocks aren't just limited to humans - my cat siblings Korbin and Beaker get them as well, because they no longer take the time to bathe themselves. This leads to mama having to brush them which makes them scream and howl, and leads to me rolling around laughing at them.

Time for someone to get shaved...

A plea to the dogs

Look guys I know the cats took over Jowls of Fury and tried to make it into one big catnip fest. I know they made fun of you, and I know that McBoobs lorded himself over all of us. I know he also drooled in your water dishes and got his fur all over your favorite stuff. It couldn't have been a pleasant time for you.

But we are all part of this house, could you please quit chasing us all over the place? Especially me? I didn't want to imprison you, I just wanted to have a room to myself so I could enjoy some good 'nip and sunshine. It isn't easy to do that when you have 150 pounds of floppy drooly basset hounds stampeding around you. I just thought he was going to lock the gate behind you like mom and dad usually do, I didn't know he was going to make himself cat warden or anything.

Maybe if you laid in the sunshine with us sometime you would understand. I know you like to do that, I see you on the porch all the time working on your tan. I could also show you how to roll in catnip... that always relaxes me, and the way you guys howl and carry on it sounds like you need to relax.

Seriously, you're chasing Nibbler so much he is losing some of his ample cat frame. If you keep chasing him he is going to start whining a lot more about it and I don't think I need that kind of downer.

Can't we all just get along?

Not cool man.

Triumphant Return Thursday

Good news loyal blog followers! We're back!

Yes, we were down for awhile there. The cats removed our ability to blog by unplugging our internet. We had all kinds of blogs typed up about stupid fat cats, famous basset hounds, and fun walks. Then they pulled the plug on us. We were so lost! Rosco tried to get back upstairs and plug things back in, but his paws were too big and he was smacked in the snout by McBoobs. Dad won't let us chase the cats for too long so we were all herded back downstairs without internet.

Clearly the cats planned their takeover well. Most of our days we spend in our crates while dad works, and the cats have free reign of things. He didn't realize how the cats had tricked us, since he's been so busy lately. Our thoughts were pretty low during that time - Breezy cried a lot and Rosco just wasn't his usual self. I was feeling pretty sad myself. Then I hatched a plan.

I knew our basset friends would be worried about us, and I got the feeling that they were rooting for us. Plus I knew that McBoobs is really terrified of me, and that he was the glue that held those silly cats together. So our task was pretty simple: catch him alone and bark at him until he ran away and hid under the bed.

We finally got our chance today. When dad came home, he let us out to go potty. We did what we had to do, and when we came back in, I waited to eat my dinner until I had figured out where Nibbler was. I had only a moment's chance and I took it - I ran after him and watched his McBoobs flop from side to side, scaring him under the bed. I barked at him really good and he whimpered and whined for a bit, then stayed under the farthest part of the bed. I went in by the internet and plugged it back in, then growled at him to remind him who was boss.

My dinner kibble has never tasted so good.

Anyway, we chased all the cats for awhile to reinforce the fact that the dogs are running the show again. A few of them are under beds or up on shelves, but we left Korbin alone because he got Rosco some votes for his photo contest.

Whiskers of Fury is no more, and Jowls of Fury is back!

That's more like it!

Whiskers of Fury is not the utopia we all hoped for

When I joined this resistance movement I thought we would all be a nonviolent protest organization that would overwhelm our dog counterparts with citizen unrest and group singing sessions. I did not plan on being the target of nightly showcases of cat bigotry and warmongering, and I wouldn't have signed on if I'd known this right-wing outcome would come to be. I was lured into this deal with promises of the finest catnip and cushy pillows to sleep on, and assurances that the dogs would only be mocked from afar once or twice a week. Nibbler does it every night and he tries to swat them while they are sleeping.

Nibbler is a liar, a coward, and a cheat. He always runs from Oliver during Cathalla (which is stupid in and of itself, and also violent). Also, he is pompous and doesn't carry his fair share. Even with his massive, pendulous man-cat-boobs (I like to call them McBoobs). Then he saunters up to mama when she comes home and plays the loveable little kitten role, like there ever was a 20-pound kitten in the world that wasn't a tiger.

I honestly feel sort of sorry for the dogs. Sure, they chase us sometimes, but to be fair we chase each other and mice and all sorts of smaller stuff. Moths in particular are a lot of fun to chase. Does that make the chaser evil? No, it makes the chaser a cat, and a particularly good one if they actually catch what they are chasing (clue: Nibbler doesn't even try to chase anymore. McBoobs make pursuit a little difficult).  Rosco is trying to win a contest (click the link here), so maybe if we all helped him out it might lift his spirits a little (you have to go on Facebook, and then like the site it takes you to, and finally like Rosco's picture to vote for him).

Whiskers of Fury is a sham.

We are not comrades.

Weird Word Wednesday #6: Korbin can kiss my 'big butt'

This week's weird word should actually be called this week's STUPID WORD WHO HAPPENS TO BE A STUPID STUPID STUPIDHEAD CAT.

His name is Korbin. You may be familiar with the rivalry that Korbin and I share; he has his opinions on things and I have the truth. His most recent diatribe went from being his usual ranting about pointless stuff and stupid opinions to directly attacking my form and figure as a cat.

First of all, I can't help the fact that I am a larger-figured cat than the rest of the lightweights in this house. It comes with having cat disabilities like a disfigured foot that was maimed by quack veterinarians three different times. If we cats could file for medical malpractice the idiots at Texas McVet's 'R Us would know my wrath.

Second, Korbin is a hippy cat who can't figure out if he wants long or short hair. He also has a really effeminate meow and sounds like a little girl most of the time. Plus he needs to have his butt shaved regularly or he walks around with half a litter box stuck to his behind. I personally would rather have a 'big butt' than a 'Korbin butt'.

So there. Next time think twice before taking on your obviously superior older brother.

Nibbler has a big butt

The weather around here has been a lot nicer lately. For a long time it was pretty cold, and there was loads of snow and ice in the yard. We finally moved into a place where we can see out the windows and what do we get? Two months of ice and snow. Not much to look at, and hardly any birds or squirrels in sight.

That all changed recently. Once the weather started to warm up they opened the windows and the drapes so we could look out the glass doors. I'm loving those things. All of us can line up and see out it, no more crowding or head crawling or anything else when a cool little bird pops in. The last thing you want to see when a cool little bird pops in is Nibbler's butt in your face. Although if he is even in the room at all it's tough not to notice it.

These windows are definitely suboptimal, dude

We don't have our bird feeders up yet so they don't come right up to the window like they used to (see below for my favorite feeder setup), but I can still hear them chirping away out in the neighborhood. I'd like them to get close enough to see, or even reach out and grab. The place up in Michigan with all the dogs and cats has a great porch that is screened in, it's practically like living outside. I'll bet I could catch a bird if I lived outside like Joey, but of course he is such a big jerk that he makes living outside seem like a bad thing.

Either way, I'm glad warmer weather has come along.

Lucky squirrel, if this glass wasn't here I would own you

The dogs are trapped again

As some of my cat cohorts have complained, the dogs can sometimes be pests. Nibbler sort of blows it out of proportion though - they really aren't that bad, once you get used to them. He's just a big wuss who runs from them. And of course as soon as you run it's over.

But sometimes they are a bit much. We used to live in a place where the gates they put up fit perfectly in the door, and we could escape them and taunt them from the other side without worrying. Not so with this new place. Now don't get me wrong, I like this place better, but the gate issue was a problem for the last three months.

Not anymore! There's a new gate and it was designed with cat escape in mind! It fits snugly in the doorframe, and there is a spot on the bottom that lets cats get through it when they have to avoid unchecked dog aggression. Kinda nice. This will help cats with ample derrières (Nibbler) get around as well, because he was having trouble getting over the gates.

The only downside is it also has a door for people. It makes it easier for them to get through the gate (despite being huge and having long legs they are surprisingly poor jumpers and fall on their behinds all the time). I used to secretly enjoy watching dad trip over the old gates.

Late poster

So I haven't really put anything up on this blog yet. I usually don't have much to say, I'm a pretty laid back sort of cat.

But every so often I like to contribute. Lately though, I have been a bit self-conscious of myself. No idea why.

You might not have noticed but in the picture above there is a suspicious-looking electrical device off-camera. Turns out it is called a "razor" and they use it to shave animals. Results below.

So don't expect too much from me until all my hair grows back.

First post

Welcome to Jowls of Fury!  This is the first post in what will be a long, periodocally updated online journal about my life with my dogs, cats, and wife.  Right now the plan is to post once a week, or approximately whenever the heck I can squeeze it into my busy schedule.

The first thing to do is introduce the recurring members of this blog.  They are, in no particular order:

Daddy

What a party animal!

This is me, the usual author of this blog.  I'm a 30-something guy with lots of animals.  I'm finishing up school right now (studying zoology), I really like the outdoors and photography, and I probably should've been a humor columnist.  I am the guy in charge of all the domestic stuff around the house, including feeding hounds and cats and scooping poop from litter boxes or backyards.

 Mama  



Mama with her new friend


This is Mama, the matriarch of the pack.  The hounds and
cats constantly vie for her lap, usually peeling out on Daddy's lap in the process.  At the moment she earns all the bacon, something Daddy hopes to change in the near future.  Mama is very crafty and knows about all sorts of things that Daddy would otherwise screw up royally if left to his own devices.  She is also the resident butterfly ninja.



  Oliver

I'm out of food.

Oliver is the resident wild cat.  He came from a farm where Daddy was doing field work in 2004 and is the first rescue Mama and Daddy took in together.  His cat senses were tingling the moment Daddy set foot in front of his farmhouse, sensing a sucker in the vicinity.  Within a few weeks he had a cushy new home and two other cat siblings to play with.  Oliver is a lot of fun but has recently taken to yowling very loudly every few minutes, which has caused more than a few pillows to be thrown in his direction.  He also doesn't travel in cars very well... more on that later.

Beaker

This new cat bed is great!

Beaker is our part-siamese cat.  Being the only female cat in the house, her personality is no doubt influenced by an overabundance of testosterone.  She often gets on people's nerves but is basically a sweet cat, if not a bit vocal.  Beaker and her brother Bunsen were two rescue cats that Mama had before she met, and foolishly married, Daddy.

 Korbin

Hey can I go outside?

Korbin, aka Korbinator, is our most recent rescue cat.  He is part/all Maine Coon, and he had a brother named Buddy who was also a long-haired cat, but had a tabby coloration.  Unfortunately we already had a ton of cats and one more would've been too much.  Korbin is a really sweet cat and he loves attention.  He's the only one left with front claws, but he hardly ever uses them (except during bath time!).

Layla

Shhh....  beauty rest.

Layla, aka Pretty Girl, is our first rescue dog.  She is all basset and all diva.  Supposedly she lived outside for most of her life before we adopted her, but if that is the case there is an innate genetic component in bassets that allows for maximization of couch sleeping potential, because she was in the house for about five minutes before she took her place on the long throne next to Mama.  She and Rosco love each other to bits, and the volume has only gone up since she got here.

 Bunsen

This is a weird cat bed...

Bunsen, aka Mr. B, is the resident love master.  Almost every cat has been the target of his, um, affection, usually with the same end results.  Car rides seem to bring this out in him a bit more, possibly because his victims have been drugged.  Despite these predatory habits, Mr. B is a good cat who loves to meet and greet new people into the house.  He also has taken to pawing at the covers when Daddy is under them to be let in so he can sleep next to somebody warm.

 Nibbler

I am not pleased with you.

Nibbler, aka Nibs or Mr. Nibs, is another rescue cat.  Hailing from Louisiana, he has a misshappen back left foot that he absolutely hates you to touch.  Nibs is otherwise very loving and affectionate, especially towards Mama.  Lately he has taken to cheating on her with anyone who happens to stay over in our spare bedroom, probably because the dogs sleep in his room.  Nibs hates the dogs with a passion, especially Layla.  He is also the only cat in our house who will fetch, with shakey mousies or rattley balls being his favorite toys.  Unfortunately, the presence of the dogs has greatly decreased his presence.
Rosco

I love you man.

Rosco, aka Puppyman, is my first dog.  Although not a rescue, he is the best pup anyone could ask for.  Outgoing and personable, he is still very much a puppy and loves to run and play.  Rosco knows many tricks and loves to be cuddled and loved on.  He and Layla are the resident bunny and squirrel chasers.







So, those are the usual suspects.  There are some others who will make appearances later on in the blog (like puppy cousins and cat cousins), as well as some memorial blog posts for pets who have moved on (like Spanky, Whittie, and probably some others I've forgotten).  But since it's already been an hour I think I'm going to end it here.  Stay tuned for more!