Dear Sweet Mama Lays Down the Law

As y’all know, Dear Sweet Mama has graciously been acting as my home health aide while I recuperate from my pancreas deciding to kill me (It’s okay, she’s a retired nurse, so MOST of what she says is not bullshit!).  Anyhoo, this resulted in her living in my apartment for the 2 weeks I was in the hospital, and now that I’m back home, I have seen the results.

The cats… are somewhat… BEHAVED.

Now, don’t get excited, they’re still bad mamma-jammas, but they have a healthy respect for Dear Sweet Mama’s authoritah that fair staggers the mind.  Like, they stay off the countertops when cooking is going on, they steal things A LOT less frequently, and they will actually let you eat your food before they demand some of it.

Callie Jean is the main holdout, though — she bit DSM through the finger when DSM tried to give her a pill, so she’s keeping up the good fight!  She may also have some residual anger that my no-fat nothing-good diet resulted in her not being able to eat her weight in Paula Deen ham this Thanksgiving — just wait until Christmas, CJ!

PS  There have been some promotions and/or title changes in the Royal Court, so be sure to check it out!  Also, keep fighting amongst yourselves for my favor… it amuses me.

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26 Comments

Filed under Adventures with Dear Sweet Mama, Calpurnia Jean, Kittehs!, La Vida Loca, The Royal Court, Youse Guys

26 responses to “Dear Sweet Mama Lays Down the Law

  1. Is her secret a water gun? I tried that and woke up one morning with it shattered and broken on the living floor with a warning scratched in to the hardwood floor saying “Today the gun, tomorrow you” except there were a lot more spelling errors because as we both know, cats are horrible at spelling. Shhh, Thelma is looking at me all weird…

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  2. her secret is indeed a water bottle she found under my bathroom sink, so I hate to think what she may have been spraying the cats with! But now, all she has to do is reach TOWARD the bottle and make the Cesar Milan noise and THEY. FUCKING. STOP. It does not work for me.

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  3. HOOODDDDYYYY!!! I am so glad you are back. I missed you so! And I am super glad you didn’t die. Although, with no stuffed ham for Thanksgiving, I’m not sure that isn’t a fate worse than death at this point. 🙂

    And what is this all now about fighting for your attentions? I think I missed something. Hmm, Imma have to give this some thought.

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    • You’re exempt from fighting for my favors since you’re already a member of the Royal Court — you’re the Head Barrister, responsible for keeping my ass out of jail and white curly wig maintenance!

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  4. Was she able to keep them out of your make up bag?

    I had my mom here since Thursday, and I feel like I’m missing a limb. Anyone who wrangles my kids, does some laundry, and brings me Starbucks has my lifelong devotion. I begged her to move in. Pathetic? Maybe.

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  5. See if she can get them to hold still for a picture!

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  6. I tried to keep my cats from knowing it’s Thanksgiving. We didn’t eat at home. My parents are vegan now (SIGH), so I’ve been going to boyfriend’s stepmother’s house. Which means no leftovers.

    The holidays have been kind of sad. I love turkey.

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  7. I hate to break it to you, but when you weren’t home, DSM was dressed in jungle cammo, playing Big Game Huntress with your pride of cats. You do the same and they will respect your authoritah as well.

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  8. I am, right now, watching my cat lick what’s left of my salad dressing out of a bowl. He will generally wait for me to finish unless: 1. I’m eating Chik-fil-a or 2. I’m taking too long.

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    • Chik-Fil-A should never be consumed anywhere other than within the safety of the restaurant. And Ti-Jacques love love LOVES bleu cheese dressing, so eating salad is a challenge (ah, I miss salad).

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  9. Jen

    My brain went into tilt-a-whirl mode at the concept of a Paula Deen ham. So much beauty in those three words. Thanks for initiation into the Court, my dear. I promise to be a benevolent ruler.

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    • Your dance skills and celebrity connections made you the perfect candidate for Carnival Cruise Director! Now go get all the Filipino waiters and make them learn the songs from “The King and I!”

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  10. Man, I wish my parents could work such miracles. If my parents are anywhere in the vicinity, Prada acts like someone with ADHD on speed and Redbull, just so they know how crazy she is. And if she spins enough and we’re (un)lucky, she’ll puke all over. But at least I came home with leftovers.

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  11. My cats are better behaved around me than anyone else. Go figure. *shrug* It goes along with the Assistant Cat Wrangler title.

    My MIL and I cooked T-giving dinner, which involved a lot of yelling at her poodle mix. We’re actually pretty much out of leftovers at this point, which sucks. How does a 20 lb turkey not feed 6 people for more than four days? Hmph.

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    • when I first read “poodle mix”, I did not comprehend that it was a dog. I thought it was more like “gravy mix” or “stuffing mix” and I had a moment of worry for you!

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  12. Glad you are back and recouping under capable Big Mamas hands. My cats does not like fatty foods, she likes strings and bits of cotton or whatever she can find, so she can throw them up for our amusement later in the day.

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    • I’ve actually had to conduct surgery on all their toys to remove any of the shiny foil stuff — because apparently, to a cat’s brain, “shiny” means “eat this,” but to a cat’s stomach, “shiny” means “throw up.”

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  13. I believe in the power of the spray bottle. When Esme starts getting hungry, she starts attacking my legs. All I have to do is pick up the spray bottle and she behaves. I’m thinking of replacing a hand with a spray bottle.

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