Wired Up

I have not been posting as often as I would like of late. Things in my Inner Kingdom have been a bit unsettled. However, I assure you that chaos and mayhem continue to reign.

Friends of my two leggers and members of my FussBook Fan Club are aware that my two leggers have been dealing with some health issues that have kept them too busy to attend the blog thingy as much as they should.

That being said, I have found that their misfortune has led to some excellent opportunities for me and my fellow felines.

Many of you may think that if they are suffering, or in any kind of distress, I should be sympathetic and perhaps "give them a break" (not lamps or wineglasses) or try to be a "good kitty".

Any of you who truly believe that I would be sympathetic and "give them a break" (not lamps or wineglasses) or attempt to be a "good kitty" are hereby ordered to study the first 384 posts of this blog until you attain a better understanding of just who you are dealing with. There will be a test later...

Their troubles began back in May.

The female, who had been feeling rather poorly, suddenly started getting "whoozy" and occasionally passing out. At first, I was not particularly concerned because the month of May coincides with the beginning of Sunbeam Season which can often cause me to grow "whoozy" and pass out in the bay window. I just assumed that she had at last fallen victim to the Supreme Power of The Sunbeam (SPoTS) and simply succumbed to the inevitable. In fact, she often stated just before passing out that she was indeed seeing SPoTS.

Well apparently, this is not considered "normal" among the two legged breed and the male insisted that she see her veterinarian.

Her vet ordered a series of unpleasant pokings and even required her to wear a bunch of wires attached to her body for an extended period of time. While these wires made her uncomfortable, Ivan and I had many hours of enjoyment playing with them while she attempted to sleep. Swatting and pulling on them was most amusing, We quickly discovered that the female is capable of many amazing and unexpected vocalizations when she is awakened in the middle of the night by having two cats wrestling wires on her chest.

******IMPORTANT SAFETY TIP*******  

 Never BITE any wires. 

One would think that Ivan would have learned this lesson after the Fried Feline Incident of 2014, but Ivan is proud of the fact that he never learns lessons.

So anyway, after much scientific stuff and testing, it was determined that the female had something wrong with her heart thingy and required something called a "pulsemaker'.  The pulsemaker is a tiny machine thingy that her vet hooked up to her heart to make it beat properly (it seems that he decided to implant it internally so that Ivan and I would be unable to play with the wires).

The day that she came home from the hospital, the male installed a unit next to their bed. It is hooked up to the phone and apparently it communicates (wirelessly, dammit) daily with her pulsemaker. Via this device, the vet can see what the pulsemaker is doing and adjust it accordingly, all without her having to return to his office.

It even has a "battery" which powers it. This is not to be confused with a "baddery" which according to my two leggers is the power source for all cats. Every time they find me taking a nap, they insist that I am simply "re-charging my badderies".

So the female came home and was recuperating from her surgery. She seemed to be feeling better and all should have been rainbows and unicorns. However, I don't care for rainbows and unicorns are a bit too smurfish for my taste, so I felt that a bit of mischief was required.

Throughout the process, I had vainly attempted to explain the whole pulsemaker thingy to Ivan. Ivan, in his normal thick-skulled fashion, was unable to comprehend any words that exceeded 1.75 syllables. However, he is quite fond of the female and continued to press me for details. So I finally dumbed-down the explanation to this: The female's heart thingy needs help, so her vet put in a remote control thingy.

Sure, I could have left it at that, but that is not my way........

I've assigned Ivan the duty of "turning on" the female's pulsemaker.

Every morning.........

At 5:47 AM..........

By smacking to the floor, every single remote control (eight in all) in our house.......

As loudly as possible.

Ivan truly believes that it works because every morning, just as the last remote control strikes the floor, the female comes flying out the bedroom with an amazing amount of enthusiasm and energy.

Her screams of gratitude truly warm Ivan's little heart.