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If this were Friday, I'd call this post Fur-less Friday; but since it's not, and this week's Nipclub theme is Playboy Mansion, this is the purrfect title.

You see, some woman or another has been STEALING my fur! She says it's not a crime but I'm not too sure about that. In fact, she has Pop doing it too. Look at the overwhelming evidence.
You could make a whole new cat out of this!
This is all MY beautiful Russian Blue fur that has been stolen with the FURminator in only 2 weeks. I get brushed every other day for less than 5 minutes. OK, I admit that I like it and it feels SOOOO good, but can I afford to be losing my coat in the Fall? Winter is right around the corner and without a nice winter coat, I might have to snugg—gasp, I can't say it—smuggle urp, I mean snuggle up (cough cough) to TW at night!

Music by Kimberley Rew

In addition, look at all my DNA in this Pledge contraption that TW uses to clean up my pillow in the morning. I'm going to need someone to teleport over to keep me warm once the winter starts.

Disclaimer: I was not paid by FURminator or Pledge to write this blog, nor did I receive these items free from the companies. Note to companies: this little ghetto kitty CAN be bought! Heh heh!

Adopt-A-Less-Adoptable-Pet Week

Another week has gone by and TW hasn't done anything blogable. I'm thinking of firing her and finding someone who will give me some great blogging material. Anyhoo, for lack of better bloggable material, let me post on Adopt-A-Less-Adoptable-Pet Week.

For those not in the loop, Adopt-A-Less-Adoptable-Pet was launched three years ago after a disturbing study showed that approximately 95% of shelters and rescue groups have a harder time finding homes for certain pets, such as seniors, big black dogs, black cats, adult cats or pets with medical problems. Now I don't consider myself a less-adoptable pet, but certain peeps might.

My mug shot
When the peeps went to adopt me, the staff told them that Moggies—otherwise know as alleys, tabbies, domestic shorthairs—are the most overlooked cats at adoption events. Everyone comes in and immediately makes a beeline toward the Persians, Maine coons, and any cat that looks exotic. The peeps were no different. TW spied a gray and white long-haired girl named Ashanti she took a liking to, while Pop was coddling a 10-year-old Maine coon. In the end, they compromised and took an exotic-looking moggie—Me. As we found out this year, I've got some Russian Blue blood in me, but I'm still a moggie at heart. I do believe, though, that Gunther, the Maine coon, would've come home with me, if his sign hadn't said that he wanted to be an only cat. If truth be known, the only reason they were at that adoption day event, was to adopt me after seeing my profile on The sign on my cage proclaiming that I was a Biting Cat didn't deter them one bit. One thing they didn't count on was how misleading that sign was. "Play biting" really meant feral. For the first year, the peeps had me, they couldn't pet me more than 3 strokes before I went for them in a big way.  I bit as hard as I could and scratched as deep as I could. Yet, I followed them around like a (ugh) puppy dog and let them sleep in their bed with me. Anyone else might've returned me, but the peeps were determined to domesticate me. To some extent, they have and they haven't stopped patting themselves on the back for it. At a moment notice, they'll coo "You are sooo worth it, CK." Then I'll turn around and bite them. I blow hot and cold. Sometimes I'll purr and rub all over Pop and let TW furminate me. Other times, I frustrate them by leaping at TW with claws and teeth bared. Pop will never return me to the shelter—no matter what. I can't say the same about TW, but I'd have to bet she wouldn't

Isn't Maggie adorable?
There are other kinds of Less Adoptable Cats out there too. Take Maggie, a gray and white domestic short hair that A Call 4 Paws has for adoption. Due to circumstances out of her control, Maggie only has one eye; but she's luckier than her sister, who's totally blind. Linda has Maggie's sister at her house while Maggie is living at their cat sanctuary in Pennsylvania since there's curently no vacancies at Linda's house. Maggie and her sister have a ton of love to give if some kind sole will give them a furever home. All Maggie axs for is a chance to prove that she's a normal cat in every way. For more information on these adorable cats, email or call 201-736-6625 and inquire about them. Wouldn't you like to take home a blue-eyed cutey like her?

I'd like to end this post by giving THREE BIG CHEERS to @Staffpurrson who was adopted by MadelynTheCat, who's very sick with heart disease or cancer, and the all-black SerenaTheCat. Both are senior cats. You rock!

MadelynTheCat was helped to the Rainbow Bridge yesterday. She had inoperable lung cancer that spread throughout her body. RIP, sweet kitty. Our thoughts and purrayers go out to Staffpurrson.

Go East Young Kitteh!

I've already gotten two blogs out of TW this week but I had to post about Willow Squires. It's been all over the news here in NYC but I thought I'd post a summary and some cute video, in case any of my furrends have missed the excitement. Willow was found cruising the streeets of NYC this week, near the National Arts Club. Why, you may ax, is this news. Lots of stray cats roam the streets here. This pretty calico was not your ordinary stray cat; she was a tourist. You see, until 5 years ago, she called Colorado her home. Nobody knows how she made her way 1,600 miles east, but she did. Hey, who doesn't want to see NYC at least once in their 9 lives! Because of her microchip, her peeps back home were notified and this story has a happy ending. This should be lesson for peeps that they should always get their kittehs microchipped if they let them out of the house. Of course, I've already mentioned that indoor cats shouldn't be let out of the house alone under any circumstances.

Click here to hear Willow's story. Stupid ABC wouldn't let me post their video here. Pffftttt!

A Few Words on Wordless Wednesday

This week's NipClub theme is Broadway. ♪ If I can make it here, I'll make it annnywhere! ♪ 
Please remember to send a few green papers if you can to help the horses and livestock who had to be evacuated because of the Bastrop, TX, wildfires. You can read the complete story here or you can click on the Bluebonnet logo and it'll take you to the donation page. My thanks to everyone who already helped. xoxo

Horses Left Homeless By Wildfires Need Our Help

TW has always been blessed to have friends all around the globe, both in this life and the last. One of those friends now needs our help. Not for herself but on behalf of the horses lost and misplaced due to the Bastrop, TX, wildfires. Dana is a Texas gal through and through. In fact, those who attend #Nipclub might remember I dedicated my Blues' night set to her because one of her passions is blues music. She challenged TW to listen to it and embrace it. Dana bought TW her first Mahalia Jackson LP—yes, that's LP—and she was the first friend to telephone after 9/11 to see that the peeps were alright.

Living in Bastrop, TX, another one of Dana's passions is horses. Among the horses Dana owns is a gorgeous paint mare named Benecio. On Labor Day, 500 homes were detroyed in and around Bastrop by a particularly lethal wildfire. Dana and her son were evacuated from their home. Although they've since returned, these fires are still smoldering, with new ones breaking out seemingly daily. Texas wildfires have been burning since November, 2010. They've already burned over 3 and a half million acres in the state. As some of you know, this has been an unusually hot, dry summer in Texas, which serves to exacerbate—I can't believe I just used that word—the problem. Many of those who lost homes had horses and house pets. Clueless Texas Governor Rick Perry recently slashed the budget for the Texas Forest Service, which provides a first line of defense against wildfires.

Dana has axed us to promote the efforts of the Bluebonnel Equine Humane Society, who along with Lost Pines Riding Club, are working to get help to the equine and other livestock victims of the wildfires. Lost Pines is housing horses and livestock that have been evacuated due to these fires, as well as stray livestock found fleeing the fires. They need donations of hay and grain, as well as money that can be used to purchase hay and grain to feed these animals. Donations can be made to the wildfire fund via Paypal here or may be mailed to Bluebonnet Equine Humane Society, P.O. Box 632, College Station, TX 77841. Please include a note with any mailed donation marking it "Bastrop wildfire recovery fund."
Benecio came from Bluebonnet Equine HS.
One of the places evacuated in the Bastrop fires was the Bastrop Animal Shelter. 160 animals were rescued from the shelter and taken to Austin Pets Alive. An army of animal welfare volunteers have flocked into the area to help injured animals. A Houston-based, no-kill shelter brought in its mobile shelter to help treat injured Bastrop animals until their owners can be found. Workers have found some animals wandering alone and sometimes with minor burns. Anyone in Bastrop looking for a lost pet should check with Friends for Life, Austin Pets Alive and the Austin Humane Society. The AHS site is worth going to just to see the adorable rapping dog video on their home page. There is a Facebook page, which lists found pets in the area.

I know we in the anipal community have been axing for your peeps' green papers a lot in the recent months but these horses and cattle can really use your help. TW, Dana, myself and the animals would appreciate your help one more time.

Dana shot this video from behind her Bastrop, TX, house 
before being evacuated.

Our story Ten Years After

Sunday marks the tenth anniversary of the horrendous attacks on NYC and America where over 3000 innocent people lost their lives. For my new readers who may have watched the horror unfold on TV, I'm going to re-run last year's post which was written by my Pop. He works a couple of blocks from the World Trade Center. Ten years later, he still cringes when a low-flying plane flies overhead. While he isn’t quite the writer I am, I hope you’ll take the time to read his first-hand account. Take it away, Pop!

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ 

I remember going to the Yankees/Red Sox game the night of 9/10/01. We had an amazing thunderstorm with the rain cascading down the facade of the old stadium and the game was cancelled around 9 pm. On the subway home, we talked about getting to work on time instead of going in late, as we had planned. Yanks/Sox games always last way too long.

I got to the office about 8:47 am that morning and had just turned on my computer to start work. It was a beautiful Tuesday and it was the weekly close. I had signed on and began to open applications when I heard someone say the WTC had been hit by a plane. We thought the plane was a small private plane.

A group of my coworkers and I went to the window to see what was going on. We saw the North Tower ablaze; papers fluttering in the sky like large snowflakes. We also saw objects too heavy to be paper plunging to the earth and didn’t know we were watching people jumping from the building. All you could hear were the sound of sirens from the Fire Department, Police Department and EMS all rushing up Broadway to the disaster. We all wondered how they would fight this fire.

Another coworker yelled a plane was coming. As she yelled, the entire bank of windows on the 27th floor of 1 State Street turned dark as the plane whizzed so close by you could read all the markings on the bottom. The building shook from the power of the jet engines.

The plane sped toward the tower, although it looked to be happening in slow motion. The explosion that followed was better and brighter than anything Hollywood could create. My boss started yelling it was time to get out of the building. He was yelling to get our belonging and evacuate.

People were running to get their things while I—being the grandson of a fireman—stood transfixed by what was unfolding at that window. It just amazed me that a box of continuous feed computer paper floated out from one of the broken windows and then slowly unraveled as it made it’s way toward the ground. Then I felt the heat from the explosion and I too knew it was time to leave.

27 flights of stairs later, we were standing in Battery Park watching, again not clear as to what we had actually seen. No phones—either land lines or cell—were working so we couldn’t call our loved ones to tell them we were ok.

R and V and some others chose to stay and try to find a phone that worked. My department chose to walk. We wound our way up the East Side of Manhattan looking for safety, being careful to walk along the water and away from the buildings. Somewhere in Chinatown we heard the roar of what sounded at first like another plane and then like a subway train. The South Tower had fallen and what we heard were the floors pancaking. Fortunately, we were far enough from the plume of smoke and dust that we didn’t inhale any of it. We continued to walk until we were in Little Italy when we heard the sound again. This time we turned around in time to watch The North Tower falling. None of us would ever be the same again. None of us will ever forget that moment. It will be hard to forget that 14th Street (about 4 miles from where I work) is where civilization started to appear again only there were soldiers directing traffic.

We ended up on 62nd Street and 1st Avenue, ironically near where I had once worked. I thought about that as we walked. We caught our breath, got to see some tv coverage, got something to eat and it was time to move again. The attacks took place before 9:00 am EST and I got home to my two cats sometime after 8:00 pm EST. In between, a friend and I saw 7 WTC also collapse from the attack. We were at 23rd Street and the Hudson River waiting for a rescue boat to take us to Jersey.

I now cherish the extra time I’ve been given and the people I knew then and know now. I’m sorry we all had to go through this, but at the same time it has made us better and stronger.

Everyone after 9/11 wrote and spoke how they never would forget this day but since then it sometimes seems to me people look at what happened as an inconvenience. People from the rest of this country seem to want to forget it was America, not New York City that was attacked.

We all remember our brave soldiers who gave their lives every year on Memorial Day and all our soldiers who are doing and have done their duty on Veterans Day. On this day we need to remember all the innocent who did nothing more than come to work that day or get on a plane to begin a vacation/business trip.

I wish for all of you peace, health and happiness for whatever days we all have left. Please don’t forget as I never will.

TW's note in her December 2001 Christmas cards:

Nine One One—September 11, 2001—The day CK’s Pop realized he worked in a war zone. No one really expects to look out their office window and see a plane zoom by—within about 20 feet of the window—and slam into another building filled with innocent people. Nobody should have to feel the explosions that rocked his building—five blocks from the World Trade Center—that morning or see people jumping to their death. Far too many people in lower Manhattan had to do those very things that morning. Our lives and attitudes were changed that day but we were luckier than others. What’s 27 flights of stairs, followed by an 80 block walk when two of your neighbors made a trip down 88 flights of smoky stairs, saw co-workers burned over 30% of their bodies, arrived in the WTC plaza as Tower 2 collapsed and lay among the death and destruction of the building they’d worked in. Donald walked down those 88 flights of stairs on a prosthetic leg and ran for his life through pitch black smoke and ash twice that morning. And me, I just watched from 32nd Street, hoping that the Empire State Building wasn’t the next target. My co-workers held each other and cried as we witnessed the towers pancake down and turn to dust. The worst part was not knowing where CK’s Pop was. If he was caught up in the dust and debris of the crumbling towers. I didn’t hear from him until almost 12 hours later when he finally made it across the river to NJ and called my friend’s house which served as my overnight shelter while the bridges and tunnels were closed. That same friend found out the next day that her neighbor was crushed by a plane’s landing gear as she came up from the subway. Pray for her as she begins the long road to recovery after 6 operations to repair her body. Pray for the young woman I comforted on the PATH train, who'd spent all night searching hospitals for her mother and sister.

CK’s Pop’s building was closed for about 10 days until it was considered “safe” and there were enough phone lines to conduct business. We still don’t know how safe the air is down there while the fires continue to burn. After his first visit to the now-sacred ground, I received this e-mail: “Just got back from Ground Zero. The horror of it cannot be described without seeing it. The destruction is massive.”

God bless the victims and the survivors. Let us not forget the sights and sounds of that day or the bravery of the rescue workers—the firemen, policemen, EMS and others—who ran into buildings about to collapse so my neighbors could come home to their children. Say a prayer for the young child who doesn’t yet realize the hatred and evil that exists in the world he’s entered.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

CK here again. The only ones who made out good that day were Autumn and Nicky because they got 2 dinners that night! TW had arranged for someone to come in and feed them. Then when Pop finally made it home, he fed them too!

This little kitteh's life would have been very different had that second plane zigged when it should have zagged. For one, TW would probably still be living in "The House" with Willie bin Willie. He'd keep making promises he'd never keep so she'd be miserable even if she didn't realize it. When Nicky and Autumn went OTRB, they'd have taken in a stray kitteh from the yard, rather than go to the shelter. I'd still be living in the shelter or I'd be with a family, who wouldn't tweet or blog for me. I might not get Luna Tuna or play time. They might've returned me because of my feral streak. I don't know. I'm just thankful that my Pop was safe and lived to give me a wonderful home. As you all know, I am a Daddy's girl.

Last night, I played a tribute in music to the heroes and victims of that September morning. These songs are one the widget on the sidebar. I hope you listen, enjoy and reflect.

I ax you to take a look at the movie that follows about the September 11 Memorial and Museum. Somewhere, there's a stone with our names on it because Pop sent them green papers. This movie is all about hope and new beginnings.

Wordless Wednesday— Never Furget *With Paws Over Heart*

TW's Big Adventure (or She'll Tumble 4 You)

A bunch of interesting things have gone on around here this weekend. The most interesting of which was TW's skateboard act in Pathmark Caturday.  She left Pop for a moment and was going to rejoin him in the ice cream aisle. There was no sign of him as she started down the aisle. Looking straight ahead, she broke into a fast trot. Next thing she knew, she was sliding, then flying through the air. A shopper tried to stop her; but she was moving so fast, she bounced off his cart. As she hit the ground, rump first, and rolled several times before finally stopping, she discovered what she stepped on. Was it some ice cream that had dripped on the floor? Was it a piece of cardboard from an ice cream carton? No, it was a CAUTION sign that was lying on its side! Had it been in its rightful upright position, she would have seen it and avoided it. Luckily TW landed on her bumper-car butt and bounced around like a pinball. Her ego was bruised, as was both her knees and a couple of fingers. She felt sore all over—not to mention shaken up—as they walked the mile and a half home. TW never fails to provide Blog posts for me.

As if this wasn't exciting enough, I received some presents in the mail! At a recent Pawpawty, I'd won a FURminator® from @Petiethecat. Actually, MaggieTCat won it for me. She's been a wonderful friend to TW and we really treasure her friendship. They couldn't wait to torture me with it. When Pop finally got around to using it, the peeps couldn't believe all the fur that came off me and I couldn't believe how good it felt. Just wait, though, until TW tries it out! Heh heh! In the video above, you can hear Pop whispering sweet nothings to me as he brushes me. For my part, I was purring. Luckily, I can't find any bald patches so I guess it's OK. Many thanks to Petie and his Mom and NipandBonesLLC.

Thank you Caren and Cody for my presents. HHGutt, aka
fake CK, looks on.
On Caturday, I also got a package from Cat Chat Caren and Cody. I must note here that I get FAR more packages than the peeps. TW met her at Blogpaws, but didn't really get to talk with her. She sent me some nommy Temptations and a mousie toy. She sent TW a magnet and bumper sticker and a note. Thanks and kitty kisses to them.

One last note from Blogpaws. Teri over at Curlz and Swirlz had axed both on this blog and over on Facebook for TW's name to make a swag bag for her. Being old, it slipped TW's mind when we wrote the Blogpaws review. We apologize for the oversight and offer our sincere thanks.