Meet Ninja

Hi! I'm Ninja. Want to be friends? 

I was the first cat to come and live with the Farriers, so I would like to be the first to welcome you to this blog. (To be honest, I don't really know what a blog is. Prince said, "Just type, Ninja. Just type," so I am. He says people (that's you) will read this and know us. That's good. I like to know new people, and I think you'll like to know us, too. We're nice! Well, mostly.

Anyway - I don't remember much about being a kitten. My sister and I were abandoned, I think. I can't imagine anyone wanting to abandon me, though, so I prefer to imagine we were left as a gift for someone to find. It's a nice story. <sigh> Anyway again, we are found by a nice lady who owns TWO houses! My sister lives in one of them with her, and I live here with my family. It was a nice ending.

This is me when I was small. I was so cute! 

I was very little when I came here. I think I've grown a lot since then. Either that, or all the places I used to sleep have gotten smaller. I'm not sure which one is true. I'm still working on figuring that out. At first, I got tired a LOT because I was the only cat. (We already had a bird, but she didn't ever play with me much. She still doesn't. For some reason, they don't let me get too close to her. That's too bad. She seems delicious. I mean, nice.)

Before too long, though, they got me a friend! I remember it like it was yesterday. (It wasn't, though. I'm not good with time, but it had to be at least a few days ago. Maybe even more.)  One morning I was walking down the stairs, when something furry and little just ran into me for no reason! At first, I thought it was a rat, and I was very scared. I have heard my people say that the reason they got me was to get rid of rats, but I am SO glad I've never actually had to see one! I've heard they're even bigger than moths, and moths are scary enough! Anyway again again, something ran into me, and I didn't know what it was, except that it smelled dirty and like the outside. It actually knocked me off my feet, which is hard, because I have four feet. was so confused!

The Big Guy picked up the furry thing, and shut it in the bathroom. All day, I sniffed under the door, putting my paw through and talking to whatever it was inside.Well, now I know. It wasn't just a thing. It was my new friend, Prince! He's kind of a tough guy (and a little intimidating sometimes, to be honest), but he's my bestest friend. We even spent the summer together, and he helped me recover when I was so sick I almost died. (Almost, though. I didn't really die. I promise.)

Since then, we have a new addition to the house. I don't know what to think about her. She's not a cat. She's not a bird. She's a DOG. At least, I think. That's what Prince says, and he usually knows these things. Sometimes she woofs at me, but mostly she just ignores that we are here. I don't know if that's good or bad. I'm still working on figuring THAT out, too.

Anyway, again again again, that's me. And us. And, now you, too! (Wait. Is that right?) I hope you come back often and we can be friends. I like friends, but I also like naps on my girl's bed. That's what I'm going to go do right now.

Bye!

Black and White and Read All Over

Aaaaaannnnnnnd, we're back!

I guess you could say this blog took a little, um, catnap of sorts. I honestly never thought it would be resurrected, but we're not the type of family who can be without cats (apparently) so the tradition can now live on.

First - a quick catch up of the Farrier Felines. It is with a very sad heart that I have to tell you that Charles (bless his dignified, old soul) and Princess (with all her fantastic fussiness) have passed on to the great kitty hunting ground in the sky. It was not easy to have to leave them behind, and especially knowing we couldn't be with them in their final months. However, we trust that they received lots of love and affection, and were well cared for. They will always, always hold a special place in our hearts and memories, and are very missed.

Nimrod continues to be master of his domain, which now includes over 100 acres of rolling pasture, dense timber, and a busy barn lot. He has made friends with the farm cats, tolerates the dogs who also live on the property, and comes and goes as he pleases. At night, he sleeps inside, but can roam (and pee) wherever he wants. In short, he is living the life of his dreams.

Shane, too, has fared well. His adoptive family dotes on him as well, to the point of putting up with his almost-daily "gifts" of chipmunks, mice, voles, etc. that he brings into the house, sometimes still alive! He has grown even fatter and sassier than he was in the past, and has a new feline friend to whom he is teaching all of his tricks of the trade. He still takes his job of shredding important documents and lying on computers very seriously. It's a big job, but somebody has to do it, after all.

As a family, we moved to Guatemala in July of 2014, and have been here doing mission work ever since. Because of our busy schedules and uncertainty about how long we'd be here, we really were not planning on getting any more pets. Honest. But, you know how it goes.

It all started out with Angel, our parakeet, who was our family's Christmas present in 2014. In fall of 2015 we started having a rodent problem at our house, and our landlady INSISTED that we get a cat to protect the property from damage. It didn't take too much arm twisting, honestly, and she brought a tiny furball we named Ninja to our house one rainy night that October. In March, my husband came home from our rented parking spot with a filthy, flea-ridden, half-starved kitten. It was love at first sight, and Prince joined them family then and there.

As if that wasn't crazy enough, we decided to add one more pet to the mix - a Basset Hound named Chassy. She came to live with us about a week ago. We suspect that the kennel she was in couldn't breed her, and her neurological tic made her undesirable for breeding stock anyway. She's a drooly, lazy mess, but fits in just fine around here.

SO - we thought perhaps it was time for a new generation of Farrier Feline Files to begin. I'm hoping these new cats are able to master the keyboard (as well as the English language - they are native Spanish speakers, after all) in order to be able to carry on the tradition. Guess we'll see what they have to say. For now, it's great to be back!

 - Cleaner of the Litterboxes 

Farewell from Farrier Feline Files

Hello, all! This is Andrea - caretaker/mom/owner/enslaver/servant of the Farrier Felines (depending on which one you ask, and what type of mood he or she is in.)

I know it's been a while, but I wanted to give you an update about what's been happening with our fuzzy friends, since you've been such faithful readers for so long.

Our family is planning to move to Guatemala to do mission work and share the gospel and love of Jesus. And, as much as we'd like to, we will not be able to take our cats along.

You may recall that Nimrod had already been re-homed to a farm last summer. I am happy to report that he is loving his new domain, and is even being a fairly benevolent ruler to his new chicken, pig, cow, dog, cat, and human subjects. He has room to roam, things to sniff, a warm bed inside at night, and all the acres to pee on he could ever want! And, though I still miss his fuzzy face and ultrasoft fur, I am thrilled that he is living the life of his dreams.

Charles, who was my faithful companion since his kittenhood 14 1/2 years ago, has also found a new home. It was especially hard for me to part with him, since we'd been together so long, and since I didn't personally know his new owners. I did a lot of praying over his placement! I don't know if I'll ever see him again, though I have gotten a few updates and I know that his new companions love him very much, and are taking very good care of him. I couldn't have parted with my beloved friend otherwise. Still, these kinds of things are never easy.

The plan is for Princess to go live with my parents. I am sure she will be happy there, though it will certainly take some time for her to get used to two new feline companions, and a new doggy friend in the same home. (If she had her way, she'd be the only cat in the house. Or, perhaps, the only cat in the world.) Her 'girl' (my middle daughter) has been grieved at the idea that Princess's posts on this blog have portrayed her as mean. Allow me to set the record straight - Princess is a wonderful, kind, gentle soul, who adores giving her love to the special people in her life. She just likes doing it one person at a time. When Princess loves you, you KNOW you are loved, and I would never want anyone to take my tongue-in-cheek posts to indicate that she is anything other than a wonderful kitty and friend. She, like the others, will be very missed.

As for Shane (our resident goofball) he will be moving the farthest away - all the way to Colorado. We have friends who have enjoyed his antics and personality during their visits for many years. When they found out that he would be needing a new home, they were eager to add him to their family. And, though I will not miss his new habit of dumping over water bowls just for the fun of it (!?), I will probably miss just about everything else about him. He has truly been a source of nearly-constant amazement, amusement, bewilderment, and conversation in our household. He really is something else (though we still haven't quite figured out what)!

Anyway - I just wanted to let you know that this will be the last Farrier Feline Files post. If you'd like to learn more about our plans in Guatemala, you can feel free to check out our website - farriersoffaith.org.

Thanks for sharing in all of our Farrier Feline fun in the past. I hope you (and your pets) will continue to be blessed, safe, and happy, as I know our beloved kitties will be in their new and future homes as well.

Thanks for all the memories!

- Andrea

Happy Thanksgiving

Today I'm thankful for all of you, because you have become my friends.

And, I might get to eat some turkey leftovers.

But, mostly you.

- shane

You've Dropped the Ball

I'm not speaking to any of you. Go away.

First, Shane bragged about stealing my spot on the bed.

Then, Charles told you all about how there was a SNAKE.

 In.my.house!

Yet, none of you - not a single one - had the common sense or decency to call in a SWAT team or any branches of the Armed Forces on my behalf.

You're all a bunch of selfish losers. It's a good thing I never liked any of you to begin with, or my feelings might really be hurt.

- Princess

Moved

 Heaven help us all, the Spirit has gotten a hold of Shane.

The mistress of the house has taken quite a liking, lately, to a television show entitled Snake Salvation. The program follows Appalachian charismatic church members, who heed the advice given in the Biblical book of Mark and "take up serpents" as a sign of their devotion to and anointing by God.

We all thought Shane, as usual, was simply sleeping through these episodes. However, something about them must have caught his fancy, which then caused him to go out and a catch the Spirit (or, at least, a snake).

The poor, tiny, defenseless garter snake must have slipped into the basement trying to get warm. Unfortunately, it didn't end well for him, but he did cause Shane to show  more exertion and get more exercise in a single afternoon than I've seen him do in a very, very long time.  I'm guessing the only thing that saved him from a heart attack was the fact that the woman immediately removed the offending serpent when she discovered it.

Shane spent the rest of the afternoon moping about it.

Perhaps there is a hidden hunter buried under all that fur and fat. But, only when the Spirit moves...

- Charles

I Have Arrived!

Yipppeee! I finally got brave enough to sleep on the big bed, with mom and dad. <sigh> Life is very, very good, and I am very, very happy.

Also, Princess is very, very unhappy.

But, that makes me a little happy too. (It's a complicated feeling.)

 - Shane

Deep Thoughts

Do you have any idea how irritating it is to have music in your soul, but not be able to get it out since you don't have fingers?                                

-- Shane 

Sweet Revenge

Sooo... Princess thinks she's the only one capable of using a camera for malevolent purposes, eh?

While the pictures she posted may have showed me at less-than-my-best, they still did nothing to undermine the reputation I've earned as a cat of dignity and refinement.

She'll soon find out that the true power of photography comes not in trying to disprove a character trait that one is proud to exhibit, but in proving the traits which one would most like to keep hidden.

To that end, I give you my own series of stills - a collection I have entitled, 'Playful, Pretty Princess.'

That's right - undeniable evidence of the beautiful, innocent, gentle,  kitten-like mirth that Princess engages in after the lights go out each night.

HAH! Take that!

 - Charles

New Hobby

I decided to take up photography. My first subject was Charles, who is nothing if not proud and dignified.

He will tell you so himself, at length, if you ask. Or, even if you don't ask.

Here's what I came up with so far.

I'm liking this hobby.

- Princess

Cat Universe

Sometimes I jump to conclusions. (It's the only kind of jumping I do these days.)

I saw this piece of paper, and it said, 'cat universe.' I figured that the little girls who live here were planning to send me to the moon, or outer space, or somewhere else. You know - in the universe.  That's a long way away. Right?

I showed my protest by ripping up their plans.

Turns out they were really just going to make a corner of the living room especially comfy, just for us. They were going to call it, um, Cat Universe.

I'm so ashamed.

-Shane

Laundry

Oh, whooooops. Were these clothes that I'm lying on clean? And folded? And the result of hours of hard work by the woman?

Silly me for not realizing that before I laid on all five baskets of them.

It's a big job, but somebody's got to totally ruin the big job she did.

That someone is me.

- Princess

Public Service Announcement

Gentle readers, I am writing to you today about a serious and worsening problem in our country - feline illiteracy.

Most cats in American homes are less able to understand good quality literature than they were a generation ago. If this trend continues, I fear that someday (though I shudder to admit it) dogs will become smarter than cats.

That is something that can NEVER be allowed to happen.

To that end, I would like to recommend a few simple things that you cat companions can do to slow the decline of feline intellect in our nation. Granted, you shouldn't expect that you cat will ever achieve the kind of IQ that I possess, but even half-bred and in-bred cats (let's face it - it happens) can improve upon their knowledge and skills with a little diligence and the following exercises:

• Play classical music around the home. I suggest Chopin's piano pieces, as some high-pitched violins can be grating on sensitive feline ears. Never, under any circumstances, should you play Beethovin's Violin Concerto in D Major, Opus 61. I once saw a cat shred all the wallpaper off the walls in a living room after just 22.8 seconds of listening. Just a heads up. 
• Invest in some good-quality art pieces. (Or, if you must, print some copies off from the internet.) Art nouveau is especially stimulating for our species. Plus, it often contains very appealing depictions of cats. Always a win.
• Expose your feline friends to literature. Even if they (or you) cannot read it independently, there are some excellent books-on-tape and online sources for audio editions of the classics. Might I suggest starting with Shakespeare's comedies? It's best not to jump in with tragedies, as depressing a cat will cause it to sink into even more of a lethargic stupor. Believe it or not, it is possible for lazy cats to get even lazier.
• Finally, don't neglect the fine art of conversation. Talk with your cats. Take time to discuss theology, current events, philosophy - you name it. They might not have much to say back, but it's sure to stimulate some deep, critical thinking. Or, at very least, it will make your cat look at you. You have to take your victories where you can. 

I hope these tips help keep your cat's brain buzzing and intellect increasing. Remember - doing these simple things may take a bit more time, but it's worth it to keep the animal academic world from going to the dogs!

A Home of My Own

I can't be upstairs much, because Princess won't let me. 

I can't be in the basement much, because, well, Princess won't let me. 

When I'm on the main floor, I end up getting stepped on. (For some reason mom and dad think I'm "underfoot" when I sleep on the kitchen floor.) 

So, I've claimed this box for my own.

It's mine, and no one can take it away from me! (At least, as long as I'm in it, 'cause I'm too heavy to move.)

 - shane

Rising From the Bottomfeeder

Bonjour. I am Moniser Jacques Poisson. Or, as my people call me, Mr. Fishy.

I am zee newest member of zee tank, and grateful to have made your acquaintance.

Despite what you might have heard, I am not a member of any resistance movement, uprising, or revolt. Honest. Sure, I spend zee most time cleaning scum from zee castle, as if in metaphorical protest about zee scum to be found in zee corroded halls of government. But, zat means nossing. Zat means absolutely nossing.

I am just zee humble, lowly fishy. Nossing to see here.

-Jacques

Doing Battle

During the recent hot spell, I've had to contend with one of the downfalls of this lovely home. Namely, that the vents upstairs aren't adequate to keep up with the oppressive heat. As a result, the lady and master of the house have put a window air conditioning unit in their room. And, since they are not ones to waste resources, they close the door to their bedroom whenever the device is on.

Therein lies the rub.

For an older fellow like me, it's not always easy to move with the same speed I once enjoyed. When I hear them approaching up the stairs in the evening, I am then forced to set off at a reckless (and graceless) trot to try to beat them to the door, and gain entrance before it is shut tight for the night.

This has rather hampered my schedule. If I end up locked in the room during the day I get to enjoy some cool, quiet solitude. However, I'm also unable to access the food and water bowl, and the litterbox. As a result, I do my best to vacate the premises in the morning. It is more important that I get the chance to sleep in there at night, since snuggling with the lady of the house has been my nightly habit since I was a tiny kitten.

For the past three nights, unfortunately, I was not fast enough up the stairs, and ended up sleeping in the hallway instead.

It's official - I'm now at war with the door. Fear now, though, gentle readers. I will be victorious, even if it takes every ounce of energy I have!

Valiantly,
Charles

Fun and Games

I have this new game I started with the woman. You know - 'cause I'm playful, like that. I call it, 'Avoid Eye Contact.'

At first, she barely noticed. But, after a few days she began to really work hard at making me look her in the eyes. I think it's starting to make her a little bit paranoid, to be honest.

Yesterday she was especially determined to win a round. She even chased me around the house with her camera, making ridiculous sounds and hand gestures, and crawling around on the floor. But, she still lost.

I will always be the winner. Always. At everything. You all might as well learn that lesson now.

 - Princess

All Thanked Out

I was so glad that Mom and Dad finally came home and let me out of the basement that I wanted to write them a thank you note.

Then I remembered that I didn't know how to spell. Or write. Or open the package of notes.

I took a nap instead. I was thankful for that too, but I won't be writing any notes about it.

- Shane

A Basket Load of Trouble

Those people had the audacity to leave for the weekend, and trap me in the basement with Chubby McTubby and Sir Know-It-All. They're such morons. (I mean the people this time, by the way. Though I can see why you'd be confused.)

The basement is where their washer and dryer are. And clothes baskets. Filled with clean, folded clothes. I guess that, after having tripped down the stairs earlier while carrying a basket, the woman didn't want to haul them back upstairs again before they left.

Well, I guess she can dread the task for a few more days, since she now has to re-wash every item of clothing. It's truly amazing how much hair  I can shed when I put my mind to it.

It would be a real shame if I accidentally locked her down there on my way upstairs to my favorite hangout spot, huh?

- Princess

Apologies...

My apologies, gentle readers, for my last post. Perhaps it was the heat, the unpleasant treatment I must endure for my digestive ails, or just my tender ego, but it is hard for me to take constructive criticism about my writing. I shall do my best to shorten the length of future updates.

For now, however, I thought I'd give a (brief) review of the events that have transpired this past week. In case you wondered - Shane never did get any bacon. That big-bellied buffoon waited, propped up at the table, for nearly an hour and a half (an attention span he can ONLY sustain for meat products), then slid out of the chair in a depressed stupor and spent the rest of the afternoon sleeping on his back under the table.

In other news, because Princess has hidden all the hair ties, the lady of the house took a nasty tumble down the basement stairs while carrying a full laundry basket when her hair slipped in front of her face and obliterated her view. I expect her to make a full recovery, though she walks with a bit of a limp still. Also, during the event, an undergarment slipped through the stairs and landed near the area where our food bowl is kept. I do hope that she discovers it soon. I am not accustomed to dining next to dirty drawers.


Yours,
Charles