Posts Tagged: pets

My Cat’s a Stoner and It’s Probably My Fault

If you don’t know us personally; if you just look at the pictures on Facebook and Instagram; if you just read the stories I’ve written on Begin in the Middle; you might think Rupert is our first and only pet. Rupert is, in fact, NUMBER TWO PET in this house, although he will never admit it. As much as I love my stupid Chihuahua, I am, in my heart of hearts, a crazy cat lady – always have been and always will be.

Meet my first love, Little Bit, whose name was not ironic once upon a time. This is the smartest, funniest, most loving cat I’ve ever known. No lie. No exaggeration. Truth.

Exhibit A

Bit and Her Pot of Nip

It occurred to me today that Rupert gets an awful lot of attention in real life and just about everywhere else. He’s cute and his antics are funny and all, but Little Bit deserves the spotlight from time to time, too. Rupert’s shtick is still new to us. It’s easy for Bit to get lost in the commotion. She’s old, tired, and would rather sit in the sun with her face in a pot of catnip than supplying me with fodder for my blog, as Rupert so obligingly does.


Leave Me Alone. I'm 14 yrs old, dammit! I need my catnip!

Leave Me Alone. I’m 14 yrs old, dammit! I need my catnip!

In her prime, Bit was every inch as much a character as Rupert is today. I could have written a hundred stories about her and our now dearly departed cat, Shiner. (Yes. I named a cat after beer – THE BEST BEER EVER!)

Little Bit and Shiner Bock

Little Bit and Shiner Bock

That’s the deal, though, it’s easy to be the center of attention when you’re spunky and cute, when you’re young and peppy. Then crappy old father time marches on and blah, blah, blah…. If there’s a point to this story, other than to let you know I have a stoner kitty I love so much I grow her her own stash…. nah…. I think that’s pretty much the point. I LOVE YOU, BIT!

The Upside of Explosive Diarrhea and a Shout Out to a Place We Like

If you like our Facebook page and see our status updates on your feed or if you follow me on Twitter, you most likely already know that our boy, Rupert, was really sick last night. (If you don’t follow us, you should probably start immediately so you don’t miss important stuff like this. Just sayin’…)

Rupert’s illness was sudden and really scary. In fact, for a while, I thought he was dying and I was, of course, appropriately hysterical, which made the whole situation much more dramatic. Here’s how it all played out.

I’ve been battling a migraine on and off since Saturday. Yesterday was particularly hideous. I ran out of my migraine medicine early in the morning, leaving me with only prescription strength Aleve and a leather strap to bite for pain relief. I left work a little after noon and by 12:45 I was tucked up in bed with Rupert and Little Bit doing their best to nurse me back to health.

Having my sweet babies comfort me and keep me company is always great; however, just like human kiddos, pets require care and attention no matter how rotten you feel. So, every hour or so, I scraped myself out of bed and the three of us made our way outside for a potty break. In mid-afternoon, I noticed Little Bit had killed a salamander and left it by the back door. Yay! Presents! Nothing says, “Get Well Soon!” like a rotting corpse on your doorstep. Dead things are always gross, but when your head is pounding and your brain feels like it’s oozing out your ears, you’ll do just about anything to avoid dealing with it. So, I pretended like I didn’t see it – until Ed got home. Then (feigning surprise) I was like, “Oh, crap! Look! Little Bit killed a lizard thing and ate it’s back legs! I don’t even know what this thing is! It’s right outside the door and there are flies circling it! Holy sh^&! I can’t pick that up, Ed. My head’s killing me. You need to do it.”

Later, when I let the animals outside again, I noticed the dead thing was gone. Naturally, I assumed Ed had picked it up. Well, you know what they say, “When you assume, you make and ass out of you and me. Oh, and your Chihuahua gets explosive diarrhea!” You guessed it. Rupert saved Ed the trouble of picking up the rotting salamander by gobbling it all up! I hope it tasted good going down because that salamander had the last laugh!

I don’t know if salamanders are poisonous, as our neighbor informed me knowingly when we spoke earlier tonight, or if it was because it sat out in the hot sun for hours before Rupert decided he needed a snack, but the consequences of eating it were dire. Ru not only puked like he’d been doing keg stands all night, but, as the title suggests, there was the added bonus of EXPLOSIVE DIARRHEA. Imagine, if you will, the horror of watching jet-propelled nuclear waste-infused rocket fuel shoot out of your 4 pound dog’s butt – AT 1 A.M. – when you have a migraine! WORSE THAN ANY HORROR MOVIE EVER! I’m sure it was pretty rough on Rupert, too.

Right about now you may be wondering about the “upside” mentioned in the title. We found a great vet! After Pet WebMDing Rupert’s symptoms at 2 a.m. (Yes, there is such a thing.), it was pretty clear he needed to see a doctor. I ended up taking Ru over to Bingle Veterinary Clinic, conveniently located in our wonderful neighborhood of Spring Branch, bright and early this morning. I cannot recommend Bingle Vet highly enough. The clinic, itself, is brand new and state of the art. Everything is shiny, high-tech, and CLEAN. (I believe I’ve mentioned before how important the clean thing is to me.) More importantly, the staff and the vet, Dr. Tesh, were amazing. You’ve got to love a vet who walks in, says hi, then cuddles your sick dog to his chest saying, “We’re going to be friends, Rupert, because I’m going to take care of you.” Rupert and I both think he’s the best! Even better, 2 shots and some suspension drops later, Rupert is on the mend. In fact, he spent the last 40 minutes rearranging his treasures and humping his stuffed Eeyore. After an eventful 24 hours, things at the Golemon house are getting back to normal.


Change Is Good

Ed has gone back to work, but because his new employer has a fairly strict social media policy, all I can say is that he is “in grocery store management.” Today, he’s actually working in a building without AC installing shelves, dairy cases, check out stands, and the like, which is CRAZY in July in Houston, but they didn’t ask me. His store opens on August 21st. (Any guesses Houstonians?)

I’m happy Ed’s working again and I know he is, too. He enjoyed having a little time off, but I think having too much time on his hands was getting old. For my part, it was nice to phone in honey-do (OR ELSE) lists from work every day, but, honestly I’m a little OCD. No matter how hard Ed tried, and he did try, he could never do things the way I would do them myself. I can be just a tad bit obsessive about how clean the house is and, well, it’s just not clean enough for me right now. As much as I griped over the last few months about the fact that I didn’t think I should have to do housework while Ed was home all day, I’m actually looking forward to getting my freaky, super-clean on again. Look out dust bunnies. I’m coming for you!

Rupert enjoying quality time with his litter-mate.

Rupert enjoying quality time with his litter-mate.

Ed going back to work means a big change for Rupert. He hasn’t ever had to stay home alone all day. Ed’s always been there with him. Rupert doesn’t like to be alone, but he’s going to have to get used to it. Ru doesn’t sleep in his kennel. He sleeps under the covers in our bed. Thankfully, he’s started to use the kennel as a “safe zone,” especially when he’s home alone. It’s where he hides his bones, toys, and other “found” treasures, like underwear, socks, shoes, t-shirts, and gross stuff he pulls out of the toilet trash can. The number of personal items in Rupert’s kennel belonging to either Ed or me corresponds directly to how long he’s been left alone. It turns out Rupert is a hoarder, not one of those messy, doesn’t know what he has hoarders, but one of the organized, don’t throw that paperclip from 1962 away or I WILL KNOW IT’S GONE, hoarders. Rupert, quirky little thing that he is, is very particular about the order and arrangement of his belongings.  In a nightly ritual, he pulls his blankets and loot out of the kennel and then spends a considerable amount of time rearranging everything in some special order known only to him. A word of caution: Don’t jack with Rupert’s carefully curated collection! Once it’s in the kennel, it’s his! I nearly lost a finger last night attempting to retrieve a pair of crotchless panties. (For the record, until yesterday, I did not own crotchless panties.)

Change is almost always difficult, even good change. I definitely consider both Ed and I being employed a good change. Before you know it, Ed will be used to his new job. Rupert will be used to staying alone a whole lot more and I will be used to wearing crotchless panties.

Help Me Decide Which Photo of Our Perfect Pooch to Paint!

One of my favorites, but don't let that influence you!

One of my favorites, but don’t let that influence you!

Visit our FB page at Take a look at the photos I took of Rupert earlier today and help me decide which one to use for his portrait, painted with love (if not talent) by yours truly. Don’t get all hot and bothered if the photos aren’t professional quality. I’m still learning how to use my very expensive Christmas present to myself. I can’t wait to see which one ya’ll choose! If you’re enjoying Begin in the Middle, please like and share. Like and share!!!!