Friday, November 30, 2012

Phoebe Fong - The World's Quirkiest Cat

I returned home yesterday evening and discovered that my front door was jammed shut. A large, golf umbrella, that typically rests in the corner beside the front door, had mysteriously fallen - creating a wedge that stopped the door from opening more than an inch.

How did this happen? 
All I know for certain is that the cat was involved.

Kittay, aka Miss Phoebe Fong

How do I get in? Must get cat assistance.

Did you notice that Phoebe can talk. Her vocabulary is limited but still, it's impressive. 


She also says "YEAH" when I ask her if she wants food. 

She's clever for sure, but Phoebe lacks thumbs and front claws so this will be a difficult task. 

Can she do it? 

Come on Phoebe, you can do it!  

Say it with me.

Move... that... umbrella!

Thank you Phoebe! It was cold OUT and I really wanted to get IN so that I could make you some food.  

Phoebe is rather unusual. She enjoys going for walks with the dog. 

She's afraid of birds. She's not intimidated by dogs. She recently celebrated a birthday and of course we threw her a party! 

That is Phoebe's favorite hat. And that is Phoebe's stool. Nobody but Phoebe is allowed to sit on Phoebe's stool.  If you do, she'll MEOW at you until you get your own stool.

Phoebe knows she's not allowed on the kitchen counter so she'll sit on the newspaper that's on the counter. Or the magazine that's on the counter. Or the box that's on the counter. Or the mail that's on the counter. But never, ever, will she sit on the counter because she knows that's not allowed.

Phoebe's been known to sneak in a neighbors house and hide. The neighbor is a small, timid, asian women, who is deathly afraid of cats.

Phoebe sits on another neighbors air-conditioner unit so that she can peak in their kitchen window and watch them eat dinner.

If she's OUT and she wants to come IN, she will go to another neighbors front door and MEOW as loud as she can until the neighbor comes over and, if our door isn't locked, she'll let her in. If our door is locked, she'll get the neighbor to knock on our door.

This is one of Phoebe's favorite games, it's called, Let Me In, Let Me In, Let Me Out, Let Me Out.

Last night, the very same neighbor (who wishes to remain anonymous) recognized the cat catastrophe, and rushed to help get Phoebe OUT and me IN the house.

Another trick of Phoebe's is scaling the rooftop. She only does this on warm, sunny days and she's perfected it to the point that she typically does it when the neighboring restaurant is packed with patio patrons enjoying a leisurely meal. Someone will eventually spot her and before you know it she'll have 20 or more people watching her every step. 

This is video of the first time Phoebe scaled the rooftop. Keep in mind, she has no front claws. 

Is it just me or do you also talk to your pets? Do any of them talk back? 

For the record, Miss Lucy (adorable 5 lb Shihtzu) does not talk back but that doesn't stop me from talking to her. 

Of course, Phoebe has a facebook page. If you haven't read about it, you can find it here:

If Phoebe gets a book deal before I do, I'm going to be pissed.

I'll close with this ridiculous look at DOG vs CAT friends. 

So glad most of my friends are Monkeys. 

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Cat on Keyboard

I've been gone a long time. And I've got a basket full of excuses. Ready? 

First I was healing from surgery number five. This time my skilled surgeon, Dr. Sandra Margoles, created an internal sling made from cadaver skin and anchored my noobs (scientific term for new boobs) symmetrically.

It was a painful and prolonged recovery process, due to an extensive amount of suturing, but hell, I'm worth it. I am now the proud owner of two, evenly placed, implants with just the right amount of droop.

My next surgery will be sometime in December. This time I'll be getting flame resistant nipples!

I wasn't sure if I wanted nipples in the beginning. Instead, I was considering imbedded jewels. But jewels are made for ooo-ing and awww-ing, not suckling and fondling, and eventually I nuzzled up to my husbands need to feed.

Four weeks post surgery, I was back in New Orleans for 8 crazy music fueled days and nights. This time I was with my kindergarten comrade, Monkey Gurl, my daughter, Ling, and her platonic playmate Pistopher.

Damn we had a good time! There is nothing like Halloween in New Orleans. Wait... yes there is. It's called Burning Man.

While we were there, hurricane Sandy hit home. I returned to mass destruction coupled with a northeastern storm that force fed us our first taste of winter.

At the tail end of all this was the election and I was worried. Worried peoples disdain would overshadow the goodness and truth of a man I respect.

But once again hope prevailed and the beauty of a democracy, lead by integrity, carried on.

In the afterglow of the election, I resurrected an affair with Stephen King.

11/22/63, what a story! What a storyteller! Prolific writers scare the cat out of me - painting scenes with such depth and clarity that I'm convinced I can't write my way out of a paper bag. 

Not only did I fall into a pit of severe writers block, after a night of mayhem at a club called "JHouse" with friends Jay and Mouse, I mimicked Stephen King drama from pages 327 and 589 and serpentined my way through a thick wall of hedges, unaware of what lurked on the other side.

To my surprise, I stumbled upon a slippery slope and tumbled five feet. 

I hurt my knee, my foot, a few knuckles, and my face. Luckily I was liquor-limber enough not to break anything.

With husband away, my devoted daughter was by my side. She cleaned my wounds, instructed me to rinse the gravel from my mouth, fed me macaroni and cheese, and tucked me into bed.

It was a three day hangover and with it came the following lessons learned:

1. Never mix Jay and Mouse with JHouse.
2. Never mix tequila, vodka, and wine on an empty stomach.
3. Never act out mysteries from a Stephen King novel.

Priorities then kept the cat, belly up, on the keyboard.

Between work, healing, and play, I have been appointed the executrix of my fathers estate and with that comes the task of finalizing his affairs. I've never been motivated by money and had little knowledge of my fathers net worth, so this endeavor has been daunting and educational.

Mainly, it illuminates peoples true colors. I think this was my fathers main reasoning behind appointing me. He knew I had to see the full force of envy and greed so that it had a lasting effect on me.

My father never spoke a negative word about anyone related to me. Instead, he allowed their actions to show me.

What a year it's been! I have a books worth of material just in the events that unfolded in 2012 and I have yet to tap into December.

As much as I've lost, I can clearly see what was found. From pain and grief came growth and gratitude.

And most important, LOVE.


The second and third tale of uncomfortable comedy.

Thank You For Encouraging My Joy of Writing

Thank You For Encouraging My Joy of Writing

Shannon E. Kennedy


Photo by Joan Harrison