Furry Lovables©

A-Boy Neal (basket), also known as Catatonka, the philosopher cat from the book "Auntie Pawsworth's Feline Advice Column," and BoBo Neal, featured in the book's chapter BoBo The Ear Bender.  I just l-o-v-e brown tabbies!  - C. S. Neal
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As one of our valued clients, if you would like to share photos of the cats (or other Furry Lovables) who run your household, please email us: carolyn@cnealdesigns.com
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GLADY GERTRUDE GUNDERSON, ROVING CITY AMBASSADOR, LONG BEACH, CALIFORNIA, SPOTTED AGAIN - AUGUST 21, 2024

Enjoying story time at her local library with a couple of literary friends.

 

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 THE GREAT ESCAPE

Stratwitch: "What are you doing over here by the wire?"

Hilts: "Well, like I told Max here, I was trying to get my..."

German Soldier: [Voice] "Achtung!"

[Von Luger enters]

Von Luger: "What were you doing by the wire?"

Hilts: "Well, like I told Max... I was trying to cut my way through your wire because I want to get out."

It was a long Saturday as I attended a convention in Long Beach and I left A-Boy and BoBo to their own devices at home. Presumably they would spend their time mostly sleeping since one is 17 and the other 13, but I often underestimate them. They are mental and physical gymnasts and are experts at creating solutions to accomplish their goals. It is a continual battle of wills between me and the cats. Observe A-Boy's expression in the photo above. On which of us would you place your bet?

Currently the days are hot and when gone I leave the air conditioning on for their comfort. I lock the screen door leading to the terrace and leave the glass door partially open in event of an emergency. When I returned from the convention I fed the cats and started to open the screen door to let them out. I noticed one of the rugs on the terrace was displaced and, looking down, saw that the corner of the screen door was loose and flapping. All day these two cats had been running in and out as they saw fit, having punched out the corner of the screen to create their own cat door. Apparently bored, they were eager to explore the adventures that pass during the day as secretly observed from the second-floor terrace. Now I fear leaving them alone. Who knows what other alterations they may decide to make in the apartment for their convenience.  - C. S. Neal


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THE STORY OF MR. OSCAR WOOLYBUCKET

In June 2020 in the midst of COVID-19 I had to have my 18-year-old tabby, Beeper, put to sleep because of a terminal illness.  Despite my love of cats, I had concluded that after a lifetime of owning cats - or them owning me - I would remain pet free so that I wouldn’t have to face the heartache of losing another dear furry friend, and I wanted the freedom to spend extended time away from home without the concerns and worries of pet care.  But, as we say, the “best laid plans of mice and men.”

In September 2020 a friend called me to say that due to an unforeseen circumstance a family of four with two dogs and a cat was in desperate need of someone to temporarily - perhaps for three months - care for their senior male Maine Coon.  My heart went out to this family, and I agreed to foster their cat until the family's challenges were resolved and they could retrieve him.

Oscar arrived on a Sunday afternoon. 

The first three to four days were hard for him - strange surroundings and a strange caregiver.  He settled onto a towel on my dining room table and refused to move.  Each time I passed him, he hissed.  On Monday, a workday, I worried about leaving him, so I called his family for their perspective.  The recommendation was to go ahead and leave him so that he might feel more comfortable roaming the apartment alone.  It was excellent advice. By Wednesday I could quietly talk to Oscar without him hissing, and soon he was following me around the apartment.  By Friday he allowed me to stroke him, and shortly thereafter he wanted some lap time.  We were bonding.

   

Three months of temporary care for Oscar turned into six months, which turned into nine months.  Over that period sporadic visits from Oscar's family members went well until they arrived one day with one of their dogs in tow. Oscar planted himself in the doorway, growling, and refused to allow the dog to enter the apartment.  Oscar made it clear that this is now his home, every square inch of it, and some members of his former household are not welcome. The family subsequently advised that they could not accommodate Oscar in their new living arrangement, and I was relieved.  I had fallen deeply in love with this big, sweet, fat, furry-pawed boy and decided to formally adopt him -- though clearly Oscar had made the decision to adopt me before I came to my own conclusion.

 

Things I love about Oscar

One of the funniest things about his transition was attempting to follow me into the bathroom.  He was afraid of the ceramic tile floor.  He would stand at the doorway and pat the floor and then walk away.  Finally he learned that it was a safe surface, and now I can't keep him out of the bathroom.  He likes to sit on the seat of the commode while I use the mirror directly opposite, and he gently pats me. I can hear him saying, “Please pay attention to ME.”  

He loves to lie on my lap while I relax in the recliner and looks up at me lovingly with his big eyes.  He sleeps with me and must have a paw touching me, on my neck, my cheek, my eye, or my nose.  That is okay except he is strong and presses down hard with his paw!  He uses his paws in a manner that no other of my cats ever did, pulling my arm toward him so that I will pet, rub and “skritch” his head, back, sides and tummy.  Oh yes, he let’s me stroke his big cozy tummy.  As I sit here at my computer typing, he is pawing at my leg asking to be allowed on my lap.  I have jokingly said that I need a Velcro strap so that Oscar can be attached to me wherever I go.

Oscar hates the vacuum.  He loves to be combed.  It is a two-person job to clip his nails, and he has given my furniture a beating.  I wouldn't trade him for the world.  There is much more I could say about the precious gift of this senior cat that came to me despite my not wanting it, and I will suffer when I eventually lose him.  Until then, I receive much pleasure, joy and love from Mr. Oscar.  Stay tuned. Maybe there will be a brief follow-up story about how he got the name Woolybucket (aside from the obvious of course)!  – Lorraine R., Los Angeles, California

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MAY 5, 2024 - CHICO DE MAYO DAY

Long Beach appears to be the hub of canine couture. Grab your maracas and shake to the beat of your favorite salsa track! This little guy is ready to celebrate. 

Chico is a twelve-year-old Pomchi who, according to his human mom, Jodi, is as talented as he is lovable. Chico performs a range of tricks, including jumping through hula hoops, and he does something that might be the envy of many dog owners--Chico relieves himself in a litter box. We don't know how the cats, if there are any in the household, feel about this, but it saves Jodi from having to take Chico out for walks at what might be inopportune times. Clever Jodi and clever Chico. So turn on the salsa music, grab those maracas, and dance the night away! Happy Chico de Mayo!  Olé!

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GLADY GERTRUDE GUNDERSON, ROVING CITY AMBASSADOR, LONG BEACH, CALIFORNIA

Meet a miniature Champagne poodle with a lot of whipsy-doodle (energy galore).  Any day a citizen in Long Beach might spot Glady bicycling along the beach, keeping a watchful eye on the Queen Mary, her characteristic pink rebel hair tousled by the wind, or romping with friends at her local dog park.

                              

      

      

There is no lack of personality with this little city ambassador. How is she with cats? According to Sara, Glady's human mom, she barks at cats walking the neighborhood at night, but not in malice. Quite the opposite. She would love to be out adventuring with them. Sara says about her little bundle of fur: "Glady Gertrude Gunderson aka The Gladinator. Best friend, adventure companion, smile maker. Twelve pounds of unconditional love!"  Keep an eye out for Glady when you are touring Long Beach.