The Mysterious case of the Creepy Pumpkin that spoke

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
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1

A Tale as old as time.
End of October.
Yay! Let’s carve pumpkins. Roast seeds. Maybe even make a pie!

Spicy aromas, sweaters, a crisp breeze. Leaves, eerie evening light. Happy children.

Nope.
More like a putrid smell of manure and cat pee. Hot, well, warm weather.
Dust and mosquitos.

Moms took the kids to get their pumpkins.

One kid is acting up. Trouble-grand daughter(always).
Twins are crying. Pacifiers were taken away this week.
The brothers are fighting over Pokemon something or other.
Oldest granddaughter is so over this crap.

Mom #1 says there will be no ice cream treat after if you all don’t STFU.

Mom #2 says I’d rather you not use that language.

Extra rider says I need wine.
Son-of-a-wrek (driver) thinks “Why am I even on this CF, I need to be home with a beer”

The “farm” was a local yokel who grew pumpkins. Just grew pumpkins.
At the end of a terrible winding track. Long road.

The Pumpkin family, we’ll call them, all have an orange tint.

The “farm” consists of 3 dusty fields, a barn, a pig sty, chickens, dogs and cats everywhere.
An old guy in overalls with no fly buttons, no shirt is the “farmer”
Gene, his son, sports a purple hello kitty t-shirt with a huge belly hanging out. Trouble-grand daughter says really loud “that’s a girl’s shirt!” Mom #1 claps a hand over her mouth. “STFU”
Mom #2 glares at Mom #1.
Maybe he likes cats. They sure have a bunch.

Extra rider says. I hope they don’t pee on pumpkins and remarks, even the cats are all orange…except that creepy black one. I smell pee. Mom #1 slaps a hand over her mouth, “STFU”. Mom #2 didn’t care.

Pumpkins are chosen. Extra rider is sniffing them. Weirdo.

Son-of-a-wrek is the only one with cash to pay for 8 kinda pissy pumpkins. Of course he got it from my cookie jar. Beer money has been compromised. I hope someone else has Ice cream money. Damn it’s hot.
Oh, great. Time to leave.
Riding home…a faint cat smell lingering in the SUV.
Mom #1 says we’ll play the quiet game, it’s called “STFU” or no ice cream.

Hey, it worked. No noise. Twins asleep. Boys worked out the Pokemon disagreement. Oldest granddaughter on her phone with ear thingys.

Son-of-a-wrek says what was that? All around…what? what? What did you hear?
Be quiet, listen.
There it was.
Oh shit.
Listen!

A tiny faint meow.

Trouble-grand daughter says rather loudly “It’s Smut, I named him Smut”
A tiny, too tiny, black kitten.
Her Mom. Mom #2 says “WTF?”
Mom #1 say I’d rather you not use that language.

Trouble-grand daughter says no one is taking it away. It’s mine. Don’t EVEN try. Daddy! Say it’s mine!

Son-of-a-wrek, aka Daddy, says. “I need a beer” Mom #2, his wife says “STFU”

New rules:
Buy pumpkins at the store.

Don’t invite extra rider.

Have the beer on ice at home. Always.

Never, EVER take you eyes off Trouble-grand daughter. Ever.

*Coming attractions: The Apple picking outing.

2

So –

was the kitten returned to Mama Cat?

If so, with or without promises to let Trouble-grand daughter take it home later?

If not, who’s doing the bottlefeeding? And have the Siamese eaten the kit yet?

And, I might note, Trouble-grand daughter seems to have inherited a tendency to bring cats home. I wonder who from?

3

OMG, that sounnds like a good time. /s. I could see an outing like that with my grand kids.

Who was the “extra rider?”

4

Cat is with me. Of course.
I trust no one else to keep it alive. She is eating solid food. Just a tiny bit of smut.

Miss. Smut.

Extra rider? Guess.

5

You are our Poet Laureate indeed, Beck.

6

“Extra rider? Guess.”

Mmmm, hitch hiker in a hockey mask you picked up on the way?

7

Miss Smut climbed out of her box. Did the cat claw climb up to my pillow. About 4:30am.
I was asleep.

I was vaguely aware some thing had changed.
The Siamese sleep on the headboard in cocoon cat beds.
What awakened me was Bear with a low growl.
I reached my hand up to pet him and ask what is it that has bugged you out.

And I heard loud purring by my head. Loud!

Oh, sez I, what the heck?

Ok, I’m awake now.
In the dark room, with dark sheets and a solid black tiny kitten. Hard to find.
I followed the purrs.

Bear was getting very disturbed. Meeko following suit.
The dogs all woke up. One Chihuahua yapped. Stern “no” shut that down. Bayliss whined a bit.

Ah, little furry, squirmy baby. Curled up in a little ball. Squeezed in a little space between the mattress and the head board.
Scooped her up.
I held her close to my face. Couldn’t even see her in the dim light.
I said “no cats on human beds”
Put her in her box. Showed her the cat litter tray.
She knows where the food is.

Calmed the Siamese down. Sent the dogs back to their beds.
On his way by, Bayliss pushed his talk buttons “little” and “bye”.
I took that to mean, “get rid of that thing”

Well, crap.

I wanted to say “STFU”!
No button for that.

Loud purring resumed.

8

I have seen a ton of pie pumpkins for sale. Is that a growing trend because it seems like a lot of work for what, if well done, gives you a pie slightly better than the can of Libby’s.

9

We generally do sweet potato pie.

But, yeah pie pumpkins are around here too. The large pumpkins from the farm, their meat(guts) is kinda stringy in my experience.
Occasionally you get a good one and there’s enough to make a pie.

It’s not a hard thing. You mash it up. Stir in evaporated milk or cream, eggs, spices and cook til thickened. You have pie filling.

The kids like to see the process of turning produce of any kind into a edible food.

It’s a teaching moment.

10

Kitten in bed is likely to resume also.

You may eventually persuade her otherwise – you seem to have persuaded the others – but I suspect it’s going to take a while.

(I like cats on the bed when I’m sleeping in it, myself. At least one; sometimes all four. That’s up to the cats.)

Pumpkins grown for decoration, whatever size they are, are usually stringy/watery/and/or tasteless. You can carve a pie pumpkin (though even a largish pie pumpkin will probably be on the small side for that purpose); but don’t use a decorative/jack pumpkin for pie.

There are a few varieties that will give you hull-less seed; much easier for eating pumpkin seed. A couple of those will even give you pie-quality flesh in addition, though some of them are just for seed.

Butternut squash will make a better pie, though. A good Hubbard will make better pies even than butternut; though you’ll probably need to get it apart with an ax, and be prepared to make multiple pies. And a mix of sweet potato and squash is definitely worth doing.

(I see that I’m living up to my custom title again – )

11

Miss Smut can’t sleep with the granddaughter who “found” her?

Great name, by the way.

12

We did not bring any cat with us to AZ. We figured, it’s only two-plus weeks.

Accck! I discovered I cannot live catless! I kept “seeing” cats out of the corner of my eye. And a cat curled up at my feet is necessary for sleep.

We’re currently en route back to SCal, to civilization, granddaughters, and cats.

Oh, my!

~VOW

13

If the cats all turn their backs on you when you get home, relax. It’ll be temporary.

14

Bayliss seems to have fulfilled your experimental goals well.

15

Miss Smut will eventually go to their house. And sleep wherever Mom allows.
They have another cat. An only Siamese, I’m slightly worried about.
He’s kinda evil.
Smut needs the ability to get out of his way.

Miss Smut got all vetted up. She has pink eye, which I knew. No pestilence.
All her shots done.
And prescription baby food. That crap cost about as much as caviar. We won’t be buying another 12 cans when this is gone.
That cat eats like a starving pig. She won’t be underweight very long.

She seems very happy this afternoon. I tried to nap. No dice. Purring and Meowing louder than you think a little cat the size of a rat could.

I sat in the floor and played string chase til she pooped out. She went to her box and fell asleep.

16

Ah, she was underweight and with untreated pinkeye?

I’ll stop wondering whether she should have stayed where she was. Beck (with granddaughter) has performed another mitzvah.

And a tomcat?

Smut needs to be big enough not to trigger the “small kitten not my engendering” reflex that some tomcats have.

(Other tomcats are very protective, even of strange kits. Depends a whole lot on the tom. But some of them will murder kittens.)

17

He hasn’t had his mannish parts for awhile.

He’s just a Siamese.
He from the same parentage as my Siamese. Different litter. I swear this woman raised her cats to be like this.

The difference is I control my cats, well as much as you can an obstinate, willful cat.
They don’t even try to control theirs. Just stay out of his way.

18

We were eating a nice Chicken noodle soup stuff.

All the pets come in the kitchen and have been taught to stay in their place. They know they’ll get treats and nibbles after. I only had one dog that couldn’t be trained like that. Betsy the Obese Beagle(RIP). She had to go in a kennel til after meals. Her begging Beagle eyes and whining were too much to take.

We were eating, chatting laughing about something and mid-dau let’s out a blood curdling squeal.

Guess whose sharp little needle claws buried into her calf and was climbing up her leg. She stood up and pried Smut off, sounded kinda like Velcro peeling off.
I won’t tell you the awful utterances that spewed from her mouth.

Smut was taken back to her box. I told her in no uncertain terms this was not how it was gonna be.
She looked at me with greenish/blue eyes and just blinked. Her mouth opened up. Big. I swear I saw her tonsils(do cats have tonsils?).
And the loudest screechy scream came out.
I said “Bad Smut”
Shut the door.

Mid-dau doctored her leg. We washed hands and went back to eating.
I was telling her be careful with those scratches, they don’t turn red and inflamed.
The whole time Smut was serenading us with loud protestations.

I think that cat is/was starving to death. Really.
She has done nothing but eat, poop, eat some more. Fall asleep in a coma. Wake up, eat more. Poop more. Repeatedly.

I’m of the opinion to let her eat as much as she wants, unless she starts puking or something.

I predict a restless night tonight.

19

I’ve had a neutered tom threaten to murder kittens. He’d been neutered for quite a while.

I kept them separated for a couple of months. No problem when they were re-introduced; they became fast friends. But he certainly wasn’t safe with them while they were tiny.

You said she was visibly underweight, I think. She might indeed have been starving to death. And that ‘do nothing but eat and sleep’ reaction I’ve seen multiple times in cats who finally find themselves safe and fed after having been neither. It generally wears off in a couple of weeks. The body’s rebuilding itself and needs the sleep.

Yes, let her eat as much as she wants. If she does start puking, just provide the food in small but quite frequent doses. If her food’s not restricted now, the starvation reflex may die down before she gets more than gently padded; if food restrictions continue, you may wind up with a cat trying desperately to become very fat.

(You don’t have to let her climb up and serve herself from the humans’ table, though. As you obviously realize.)

20

Some cats never get over starvation in babyhood. We’ve had cats who ALWAYS must be first at the food bowl, and will shove any other cats out of the way. I swear one cat can hear me unscrew the lid on the jar of dry cat food, because he’s right there at my feet, nagging.

Clip the claws on little Missy, at least the front ones.

~VOW