Gimme Some Love

Tonight, on our first night back in Singapore, I was told that while I was out attending a concert, a certain brown cow got into bed with small fry.

That's a first. Not only did he get into bed with her, he stayed at her feet till she was asleep. Then promptly went up to her face and sniffed her, his whiskers tickling her awake.

To her credit, small fry resisted the urge to bully fatty, instead taking it all in stride and giggled happily.

I guess brown cow and small fry are starting a new phase in their relationship.

Harassing The Cat

Don't be fooled. She looks like she's being tender towards the brown cow. But it's all for show. The cheeky grin on her face says it all: she just loves harassing the boy. He just takes it like a punching bag. I keep telling him to grow some claws and fight back. I tell her that he can only take so much and one day, she'll experience those claws. But they both ignore me. And so it continues...

My cat, my pillow.

Enduring the 'loving'.

My World For A Brown Cow

In general, small fry and the brown cows get along well enough. Especially when she's not trying to take him out by thumping her fists on his back or yelling at him just so that he'll leave the couch.

Pixel may be fat and somewhat stupid but he's fiercely loyal and will let the small fry do almost anything to him. So far, he hasn't extended a claw or tooth in her direction yet.

Small fry greets brown cow. Don't let the claws fool you. He's a softie.

"Even though you torture me to death, I still love you."

"If I bounce hard enough, he'll be my horsey?"

Moments like these make my day.

The Cat Did It!

It's 7am and Pixel's sprawled on the back of the couch, looking out the window behind it.

Small fry is having her breakfast of Nutella toast and milk at the couch. I'm having mine at the table. I look up and the boy (Pixel) looks hilarious spread out on the back of the couch, somewhat like a piece of salami.

"Babe, what's the boy doing on the couch, looking out the window?"

"He's looking for the remote (control)!"

"Why's he looking for it?"

"Because he threw it out the window!"

Hm, never ask a 3 year-old a dumb question.

Enterprising Pixel

Pixel's plagued. Since sis and I started putting objects on his back, and now that we know that he can stay still long enough most days so that said objects don't fall off, he's getting harassed on an almost daily basis.

Latest in the line up is hubby's miniatures. I think the Enterprise looks pretty well-balanced on his back, even though he looks like he may be tempted to swat it right off.

Chill, Pixel.

Sir Valiant

Pixel the Valiant bearing up with stoic patience as his humans decide to use him as a display of sorts for RPG figurines.

He's not happy but he doesn't full out object to being used as a shelf.

In truth, he looks more like a fat-bellied vase than a shelf.

Abundant Patience

Here he is: the well of abundant patience.

And a morass of flesh and fat.

I'm not sure if it's the fat that insulates him and allows him to take whatever it is that the small fry has to give or if he's just ... dense.

I'd shoot for dense. In every sense of the word.

Things We Can Put On Pixel's Head And Back

On my sis' last day here in S'pore, we spent an amusing afternoon balancing a variety of the small fry's toys on Pixel's back and head and taking photos of them.

Sis took the pix and she assured me that she'll post them up when she's free.

So here's a list of the things we balanced on the fat cat's back:

1. A variety of balls
2. Small fry's wooden teapot and a teacup on saucer
3. Wooden toy salt and pepper shakers
4. A wooden cheese sandwich
5. A platter with egg, sandwich and bun on it
6. Various plastic shapes on his head
7. A book

In all our attempts, the boy was more than obliging to keep still. Right up until the salt and pepper shakers at the end; they rattled and he wanted to swat at them. And then I told sis that maybe I should do a photo a day with different objects balanced on the boy's back or head.

Now there's a thought.

Why I Think My Cat Is A Dog

Sophia and Pixel. She only does this to/with him. She isn't this way with other cats. Thank gawd for that coz her behaviour borders on (probably is) cat abuse.

She's incorrigible. He doesn't know what to do with himself and with her. I don't know what to do with him allowing her to do what she does to him.

I don't think he's a cat. I think he's a closet dog.

Don't You Touch My Totoro!

Don't you dare, Pixel! You already maul my tiny little Totoro to bits on a daily basis. Paws off my Big Totoro!

Yes, the fat boy seems to have a fascination for the teeny tiny little Totoro (not pictured). No matter where it is, he finds it and treats it like a ball of yarn. Whether it's on our bed, her bed, on the table or lying around somewhere within his sight and reach, he will take it and give it a toss and a swat around the house. When we can't find it, his is the first name we call out. And then we cross our fingers and hope the little Totoro is still intact.

So far, so good.

Attention Seeker

He would love to sleep on the bed with us if he could. So he takes whatever liberties he can. If the door is open and we are on the bed, then we'll eventually find him curled up at our feet.

One Of His Favourites

I received my Polaroid SLR680 last week. Alas, my hoard of 600 film had already expired for more than a year. So here's what the photos sorta look like after auto-adjustment with the Epson CX3800 scanner. No adjustments = yellowy pix. Sigh.

Elsewhere, we celebrated Singapore's national day by viewing the fireworks display from daddy's office. Great view. Due to some unforseen circumstances, my settings on the camera went astray (on their own!) and I only got TWO fairly good shots of the fireworks.

The long weekend was spent trying to entertain and keep the little one busy. Sunday morning we spent at Fidgets where she could rumble and roll to her heart's content and Monday we went to Paragon for the rides and the little indoor play area. She was happy just walking around inside the mall (mall rat!) and found, to her delight, a florist with loads of little water features on sale. "Fountain, fountain! Fountain, mummy!"

Ah, the little pleasures in life.

Exhausted

After a day's outing and a satisfactory bath, the little one settled in her tub of balls in front of the TV and promptly fell asleep, however uncomfortable that tiny box seems.

Pixel, always one to investigate, checks out if the little terror (who harrases him to no end on a daily basis) is really out cold.

The Good, The Bad And The Ugly

The monster, the slob and the brown cow. As to which is which, you decide.

Taken some months back, this is what happens when everyone gets some shut eye except for mom.

Beauty & The Beast

See the cheeky little thing trying to convince Pixel to let her comb (smack) him. He knows her true intentions; his ears are pointing backwards. She can't fool him, not with that face.

He Ain't Furry, He's My Brother

She does love her cats. If she could get even an inch close to Trixie, I bet she'd do the same. But then again, this is her good side. Together with the hugs she adminsters, there're the kicks, slaps, fur-pulling, fist bashing, etc.

Only Pixel has skin and a layer of fat thick enough to withstand her abuses.

Obscuring The View

Crowding the table, originally uploaded by Ashkarya.

Pixel's usual haunt when either of us are on the PC. It's considered a feat when he doesn't push the keyboard off the table.

Clumsiest Oaf I Know Who's a Cat

In the mornings as we lounge around in bed, the boy, as is his custom tramples all around in bed trying to get our attention. From the foot of the bed where he sleeps, he will trot or plod up to where we're lying on our pillows and plonk his fat ass down and stare at us. After we give him the customary pat or nuuzzle on the head, he will head back to the foot of the bed and wait for either of us to really get out of bed and feed him his breakfast.

The boy is so fat that sometimes manouvreing his way across limbs and bolsters and pillows gets the better of him. There's just too much of him to get across all the obstacles unscathed with his dignity intact.

Yesterday was once such time.

He ended up clumsily stumbling like a drunken sailor, stepping first over my arm and then onto Rizal's leg trying to get back from our pillow to the foot of the bed. From our vantage point, he looked like he about sprawled splay-legged across our bodies, with hind legs akimbo and fat belly dangling about, almost falling flat on his face before he reached his destination and plunked down on his belly.

I swear it was the funniest, most ridiculous thing I've ever seen a cat do. But I wouldn't mind seeing more of those it it means I get to laugh my heart out.