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Thought I'd provide some Halloween fun, aka TREATS, for my furrends. Enjoy!

Sorry, I had to delete the original video from this post because it no longer exists on youtube. I wish everyone could've seen it. Don't you hate when music companies do that? Hiss!

And here's one starting the World's Most Stunning Cat. Musical clip is The Spooks are Coming by the Hawaiian Pups


Tasty Taste Test

Try saying that 5 times real fast. HAH!

Several weeks back, the wonderfully handsome Spitty had a blog about how much he liked the Royal Canin food he was eating. I responded by saying Royal Canin is too rich for our blood. My peeps can't afford it so this little ghetto kitty does without. Turns out TW was hiding some from me! Yes, HIDING it!

While she was at Blogpaws, the nice, kind people at the Royal Canin booth, who incidentally were familiar with my blog, axed us to participate in a taste test of sorts. They were experimenting to see what attracts a cat to their food. Was it taste, aroma or protein. They knew I was just finicky enough to be an excellent subject to try their Selective foods. TW brought home a sample bag of all three, which say on the label they are for "fussy" cats. I'd rather refer to myself as "high maintenance." Since the food had an expiration day in 2012, she figured she could wait for the purrfect time to test this guinea pig, er, kitty. No money exchanged hands. We only received sample bags of the food in exchange for our honest review.

TW got identical bowls—the best store-brand styrofoam bowls money could buy, I'm sure—which probably took her the entire month she deprived me of the Royal Canin. In the first bowl, she poured the Aromatic attract, which is supposed to attract my sense of smell. The Savor sensation went into the second bowl, to stimulate my sense of taste. Into the last bowl, she poured the Protein preference. If you notice, she shorted this one a little bit. Do I like a food by how it feels in my mouth, how it smells, or how it makes me feel after eathing it? Hmmmm. Which do you think I selected?

Aromatic, Savor, Protein, left to right.
I headed straight for the center bowl, the Savor sensation, sniffed it and turned away. The Protein preference was the one I gobbled up. It was the only one that made it into my mouth. I really liked it. TW thought it was because it was the first one I saw. Wrong, woman! When I want your opinion, I'll give it to you! Later in the day, the bowls were in the kitchen. I went back, sniffed the Aroma one, then went back to the Protein. That was the only one I had any interest in, or as I like to say, that's good $h!t.

I've just about finished the bag of Protein preference, while I don't have any desire to even sample the others. I take after my Pop, who eats a protein bar every morning for breakfast.

We'd like to thank the good people at Royal Canin for allowing me to participate in this taste test. We were given the sample-size bags of kibble gratis but were not told what to say. The decision was my own and I overwhelmingly picked the Protein preference. Pops says that proves I'm a real carnivore. Hint, Hint: If Royal Canin would like to lay some Stinky Goodness on me, I'd be glad to taste test that.

NOTE: I do not normally eat out of styrofoam. I have nice stoneware dishes but TW wanted to be sure I didn't pick my favorite dish and eat the food that's in that one.


Many thanks to everyone who has voted for me in the Sensational Cat and Best Blog categories in the Anipal Academy Awards. I much appreciate it. The voting ends tonight at 11:59 so you still have a chance to cast a last-minute vote. Now I just need a date. HAH!

Wordless Wednesday Words—Guess Who's Coming To Dinner?

Can you believe Pop is actually GIVING me his dinner? He can keep the sweet potato and the cranberries, I WANT THAT CHICK-HEN!!! (If'n you look closely, you can see Pop's cast way over to the right.

Click on the picture to go to the Anipal Academy Awards.
Last day to vote is Friday, October 28th. Please vote Cathy Keisha Sensational Cat and Best Blog. This blog is everything to me. xoxo

More Stupid Human Tricks

The first Stupid Human Trick took place almost a month ago but we had so many other things to blog about that we never go to it. The second just happened this past weekend. Finally!

Score! TW finally did something blog-worthy! She spilled an entire glass of V8 Splash on the table. Well, not just on the table because that juice went all over, including the hardwood floor. Of course, the V8 is highly sugared, therefore, highly sticky. Don't tell TW it's highly sugared since she thinks she's drinking something healthy. First, she tried to clean the floor with a rag full of Murphy's oil soap (as if!), but the floor was still sticky so she had to resort to the Bissell steam mop, which replaced the Shark, that broke from neglect. A month later, the floor still feels sticky, so another cleaning was in order.

✌  ✌  ✌  ✌

Tonight, a blog fell right into my hands and I said "thank you Lord."

What is the crazy lady doing?
I was minding my own business waiting for someone to play with me about 11:30 pm, when I heard TW shout "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" I came running to investigate and sat down in the middle of millions of small, round white things that were all over the rug and floor. TW was on all fours, frantically trying to corral whatever they were. I learned later that she'd dropped about a hunnert and eighty pills—a three-month supply. She was frantically trying to get them all up while mumbling something about how she couldn't believe what she'd done. She couldn't believe it? I couldn't believe my good fortune. I thrust my paw in the air in glee. Another Stupid Human Trick to blog about! This wasn't quite on par with the Great Birch Beer Caper simply because TW never lost it the way she did when that happened.

The Woman then did something unspeakable: She called in the Marines in the form of my Pop. Yes, she woke my poor, sick, one-armed Pop out of a deep, drugged sleep. He hasn't slept in nights because when you're in a soft cast and sling, there IS no comfortable position. [Ed note: he was awake and he hadn't taken any medications.] Shut up Woman. I'm telling this story and I tell it as I see it!

Pop came out and discovered his little angel—me—was sitting in the midst of a bunch of pills. As he put his hand down to shoo me away, I bit him and he yelped in pain. My job was complete but the peeps were finding those little round things everywhere. They were in TW's room, the bathroom, the hall and there was even one in Pop's room. No place was safe as Pop found one near my litter box, about a half a mile away. TW even picked some up with the vacuum cleaner the following day. You read right—TW was actually vacuuming. Miracles do happen!

I axed TW how this could have happened. She said the bottle just jumped out of her hand while she was opening it but she couldn't believe how far they scattered. I continued to grill her like a seasoned DA. You hit the vial with your hand, didn't you? She claimed she didn't even remember something that just happened. I was speechless. Are these pills poisonous to a cat? WOULD THESE PILLS KILL A CAT IF INGESTED?? I then interrupted myself to tell Pop to get over it when he kept mentioning that I had bit him. Fortunately, I didn't eat any of them. Pop's hand was a tastier treat.

The lousy drugstore refused to renew those pills without getting a new prescription from the doctor even though she had a prescription for them the first time. My head started spinning when I heard that. She read them the riot act but they wouldn't budge. They were as stubborn as a cat.

I should start a Blog Hop so you can tell me about the Stupid Human Tricks your humans do.

CK casting a vote for Anipal Awards
Only 4 more days to cast your vote for Cathy Keisha in the Best Blog and Sensational Cat categories of the Anipal Acatemy Awards. Click where is says vote in the general categories and please help yourself to some of my premium organic nip and noms on the way out. Last day to vote is the 28th.

Anipal ACATedy Awards

It's official! This little stunning ghetto cat has been nominated in TWO—count 'em—2 categories. This is just for fun. There's no monetary awards or anything for winning, but I'd like all my furrends to VOTE FOR ME—CATHY KEISHA—in the following categories: Sensational Cat and Favorite Blog. There are a bunch of deserving anipals in the other categories, so choose wisely. For instance, our good furrend Mariodacat is up for many of the awards and is a good choice, except for best blog, and he'd be the first the tell you that. As if there is any doubt who's blog is the best, read Murder Mystery and Oatmeal: healthy or hazardous and Sometimes You Feel Like A Nut. The last one had Pop rolling on the floor when I first read it to him.

Thankful Thursday

I usually don't participate in the Thankful Thursday Blog Hop, started by my good furrend Cokie the Cat, because I'm not a very spiritual cat. This week, though, I have quite a bit to be thankful for. Let me count the ways.

I'm thankful that my Pop came through his elbow surgery with flying colors and he doesn't have much pain at all. I'm thankful that he's going to spend all week—and maybe more!— home with me. I hope he really spoils me. I'm thankful for the #pawcircles and the love my furrends showed Pop and my family.

The other thing I'm thankful for is that my peeps have my back! TW answered the phone on Tuesday and a voice on the other end announced herself. "Hi. This is the Hoboken Animal Hospital. The blood we got from Cathy was insufficient for them to run the test. Can you bring her back so we can draw more?" TW replied, "No, I'm not putting her through that again!" What TW was thinking was "Are you effing kidding me?" TW talks like that; she's got a potty mouth.

HAH: Is she hard to get into the carrier?

TW: No. When you tried to draw her blood last time ...

HAH (cutting her off): She's tough?

TW: Yes and you had her in respiratory distress when you kept trying to get the blood. No, I'm not bringing her back!

The evil woman told TW that it would be free of charge. TW then said "Which reminds me. We paid for the blood test, which you didn't do. ... " They actually did the right thing and said they'd remove the charges from the credit card. Of course, I'm gonna keep after Pop to make sure they do it. It's about time someone stood up for this little gangsta cat.

Just cos I'm atop my PTU doesn't mean I want to go
back there—EVER!
A word from TW (and it better by just a word cos I'm ready to cut you off without notice, woman!): CK's pop and I spent almost 5 years trying to domesticate her and in 20 minutes, they turned her feral again. We worked hard getting her to trust humans and now we have to build this trust all over again. She's back to her feral ways of biting every time we try to pet her. (That's quite enough from you, woman!)

How feral can I be? This is the first time I let her get a word in this blog. I cut her off before she could tell you how I hid UTB the morning of Pop's surgery because I thought they were going to take me back there. After all, Pop never stays home and TW is never up that early. Right now, Pop is petting me and making a big fuss over me and I'm purring. I have so much to be thankful for.

Wordless Wednesday—Nursing

Nurse CK
I know this is "Wordless" Wednesday but I must tell you how hard this nursing work is. I've joined the #WLFNursingCorps to take care of Pop. I'm busy from morning until night. I apologize if I can't comment on all your blogs for the next few days cos Pop is hogging the computer. I'll catch up next week. Please continue to stop by here. I also apologize for the shoddy job TW did putting my nurses' cap on. Come on, woman. You're killing me!

Pop's surgery went well. It lasted 2 hours. The doctor had to remove bone chips and clean up some arthritis that had set in while the chips were in there. He wants me to thank all of you for the kind words and well wishes, purrs and #pawcircles. They help immensely as he's not in much discomfort at all. In fact, he didn't have to fill the prescription for pain meds that the doctor gave him. For now, just call him LEFTY! HAH!

We are the 99%

Most of my furrends' humans ARE the 99%. They love animals and don't mind parting with their hard-earned money to their favorite charities.

I usually don't do political posts, although those who know me from NipClub know that I play a lot of songs with political messages. In fact, I now begin my set with the disclaimer "The views and opinions expressed in the next hour are not necessarily those of Nipclub, their owners or their staff." I feel this covers my tail.

I was adopted into a political family. In fact, TW walked the picket line when Grandpa's company went on strike when she was just 4 or 5 years old. She was shocked the following morning to see her picture on the cover of the now-defunct Hudson Dispatch. She loved that experience so much that when she stumbled upon a local storefront turned into a peace group headquarters while she was in high school, she made it her second home. Both she and my Pop, who was a big shot at said organization attended many rallies in NYC. Together they worked on Abie Nathan's Peace Ship that was docked in North Bergen, before it lowered anchor right outside the Israeli territorial waters. His dream was to see Arabs and Jews live together, so he broadcast The Voice of Peace from the ship. Pop even worked as Music Director and DJ for listener-sponsored WBAI in NYC, during the early 1980s, and as Subscription Registrar before that. WBAI used to be quite radical back in the day, I'm told. He even talked to John Lennon on the phone! How cool is my Pop!

Monies to all our favorite shelters and rescues, even zoos and aquariums, are being cut and I'm here to try to make some sense out of it. How can we ax government to cut police, fire and teachers instead? We can't. Instead, we, the 99% who barely make ends meet, have to fill the void. TW, who's been out of work for years because no one wants to hire a 57-year-old and had to sell her jewelry to go to Blogpaws, just donated all the doggie stuff she got there—BTW, were we the only ones who noticed that several things in the swag bag were past their expiration date?—to Companion Animal Placement, the rescue who saved me from the kill shelter. The thing about shelters is they need more than money. They need volunteers, toys, blankets, towels, paper plates, cleaning products, etc. Yes, they even get my food that I no longer eat.

Back to the topic at hand. The 99%. A few posts ago, I wrote about my empty bowls that TW got on special. We had fun with that, but the truth is that we're living on Pop's meager salary and without the prizes I win at Pawpawties, I wouldn't have all the wonderful things I now have, like the FURminator, my Neko Fly, tunnel, and my personal photo cards. Cats that aren't on Twitter don't have opportunties to win prizes and they wind up in shelters when their humans lose their jobs. My peeps eat store-brand everything so they can feed me Fancy Feast and Soulistic stinky goodness. They cut coupons all the time and have stopped eating out. They don't smoke or have any vices. In fact, after this year, they can no longer afford Yankee tickets, which is their sole guilty pleasure. We don't go axing for money.

The current political climate in this country is such that Pop has been saying for some time that the riots and class wars that have been going on overseas are about to erupt in this country. The USA has become a country by the rich, for the rich, of the rich and leaders of one political party has made no secret that if you don't have money, you would do them a favor if you died. The USA is a country where the richest 1% have more wealth than the bottom 50% combined. Think about that. Say you live in a big house with 99 other animals and 1 big dog or cat eats as much chow as 50 of the other dogs or cats. That is what the Wall Street & corporate parasites have been doing since the Reagan tax cuts.  Those 50 little anipals would be skinny and hungry after a while and would be thinking of ways to get back at the big dog.

September 17th, the silent majority found a common voice and became silent no more. Occupy Wall Street, a group protesting against social economic inequality and corporate greed, among other concerns, had begun. THIS LITTLE GHETTO CAT IS DOWN WITH OCCUPY WALL STREET! You can read a bit more about the complacancy that made this movement necessary on @LttleCrow's dad's excellent blog. Yes, the wealthiest 1% of families owns roughly 34% of the nation's net worth, the top 10% of families own over 71%, and the bottom 40% of the population owns way less than 1%. What's wrong with that picture? Plenty—unless you're part of the one percent.

Making matters even worse is that the people at the top refuse to pay a fair share of taxes, preferring to cut social programs to the elderly and poor.  They say the unemployed should take the jobs that are available.  Can anyone live working at Mickey Ds? Not around here they can't! Tax cuts for the corporate parasites has always been meant to stimulate job growth.  One party's mantra is, you can't raise taxes on the wealthy, since they are job creators. Fact is, since Reagan cut taxes to stimulate the economy, the number of jobs has decreased every year. How many jobs have they created since the second Bush cut their taxes once again?  They tanked the economy and instead of being rewarded with jail, they got bailouts that the other 99% paid for.  In the 60's and 70's, the wealthiest people paid taxes of 70% and in those years, we had the highest job growth. In contrast, they now pay under 35%, while my Pop sees roughly half of his salary get taken away in taxes.  Keep in mind, there are caps on how much is taken out of the 1%'s pay for insurance and social security.

The question on your mind right now is probably I thought I was reading a blog about cute little cats, what does this have to do with cute little cats? I'm here to provide an answer. When people are unemployed, the federal government loses money. They, in turn, cut state aid, who then cut aid to towns and municipalities. The first cuts that are then made are to areas that are deemed less necessary, which includes ANIMAL ISSUES. Aid is cut to shelters, which have to scale back on workers and programs and the number of animals they can aid. One such program is the Caring Kids program at the Animal Haven shelter in NYC, which teaches children fro 5 to 17 how to properly care for animals. This program has recently partnered with the Humane Education Advocates Reaching Teachers which has enabled it to resume, no thanks to the parasites.

We've all seen how this is affecting our blogging and Twitter communities. A few years ago, ChipIns started surfacing for local shelters. Now, more and more of these ChipIns are for our human friends, who have lost their jobs and can't pay their animal's and their own medical bills. Some have lost their homes and can't keep their beloved cats or dogs. I've seen blogs which contain more than one of these ChipIns and less and less of our friends are able to donate. We are the 99%, who together have less wealth than the other 1%. How can any of us support a political party that wants us to do with even less?


That's what was going on this a.m. around here. This little kitteh was sleeping all nice and comfortable next to TW when all hell broke loose. Banging and slamming in the hall like you couldn't imagine. I quickly retreated to my secret hideaway under the bed. TW started cursing, not because she was losing precious moments of her beauty rest, but because she thought I'd had enough stress for this week. And, frankly, I have.
What the hell is that racket? I better make myself scarce

We live in an apartment building, where there are 16 apartments on our floor. We also live right opposite the elevator, which somehow the peeps thought was a good idea when they bought this place. Cue the gong. Not a good idea if you have cats—especially stunning ones who do not like noise. Someone was moving out. First the porters had to throw down wood boards to keep the precious hall carpet, which is ugly and worn anyway, from getting marked up. And by THROW them down, I mean SLAM them down. Of course, they did this in front of our door. I thought we were being attacked by terrorists. I was UTB before TW knew what was happening. TW says that if we ever were attacked by terrorists, there would be no way she could rescue me under there. I say find a way, woman!

An hour of so later, I got hungry. Things seemed to have calmed down so I came out for some breakfast. TW had no sooner poured out the Soulistic Island Illusion when the carts started rolling down the hall again. Exit CK.

This went on three or four times. CK would come out, another cart would roll by, and CK would exit. It may sound funny, but it wasn't. TW was getting flustered! I was getting frustrated and hungrier. She tried to feed me in Pop's room, but I wasn't having any of it. These [censored] were moving until way past 1 pm. I'm gonna call my Congressman and see if he can do anything about this!
☤   ☤   ☤
CK and Pop in happier times.
Moving right along: A many of you may remember, Pop broke his elbow back in May. Then he re-broke it a few weeks later when someone at work ran him down. Monday, he'll be having reconstructive surgery on it. They first have to remove the chip that broke off and then see if there is any ligament or tendon damage, which they don't know about because Aetna, Pop's insurance company, didn't think an MRI was necessary. (We all know how f***ed up the health care system is where insurance companies care more about profits and not at all about patients.) Sorry, I got distracted but I'm back now. Then the surgeon will decide if he wants to cap the bone chip and reattach it. All this could take between 45 minutes and 2 hours. Aetna has also made the decision that Pop doesn't need to stay at the human vet overnight, even though the doctor would think otherwise.

Good news is that I'll have Pop home 1-2 weeks. Bad news is he'll be in pain and grouchy and unable to play with me.

In the sidebar on the right, I have a gadget with all of Pop's favorite songs—most of them fit under the category "Best Songs You Never Heard"— so he can easily listen to them while recuperating. I hope you'll all join me next week in wishing him a speedy recovery.

Whisker Hump Wednesday

I seem to have recovered from my et-vay ordeal and have been running around again and climbing on my cat tree. The one good thing that happened the other day was I got reunited with the woman who rescued me from the kill shelter. She works as a groomer at that horrible, evil vet place—truth be told, the adoption fair from which the peeps found me was held at that place—and she remembered me! I mean, once you've seen this stunningness, it's hard to forget it.

Is This Any Way to Treat a Stunning Cat?

So I'm feeling good and everything; but suddenly yesterday, what to my wondering eyes should appear but my PTU! WTF? Today the peeps took me for my yearly "Wellness" exam, which turned into a HELLness exam for this little kitteh.

I was first rammed into my PTU, against my will and then taken by cab to the Evil Place, which was filled with all kinds and shapes of dogs.

When they called my name, the peeps dutifully brought me into one of the examining rooms. The vet was some yuppie chick, who I knew I could take on; and her assistant was a bruvva, which rubbed me the wrong way. From the moment, they took me from my PTU, I fought. I mean I FOUGHT HARD. I hissed. I growled. I spit. I BIT! She looked into my mouth and I fought so that she said it would be an "abbreviated" exam. She told the peeps that I had a little ginger-vitis and I should get a cleaning, sooner rather than later. Then she axed about taking my blood so they could make sure my Bartonella was truly gone. Somehow, the peeps said "yes, take her away" and they did. Once again I FOUGHT HARD! I hissed. I growled. I spit. I BIT! I took on the doctor and TWO vet techs and they still couldn't got my blood! I bit the lady vet's thumb HARD. Her blood ran like water. They tried over and over to get some of MY blood but it wasn't happening. As a last attempt, they turned me over. NO ONE TURNS CATHY KEISHA OVER! I was so stressed, I began to open-mouth breathe; I went into some respiratory distress. At last, they got the message and stopped before they killed me. When they brought me back in my PTU to the peeps, I was practically lifeless. Only my eyes were moving. TW freaked! They calmly told her that I should be alright. I was just very scared. These people couldn't care less! They actually wanted the peeps to leave me so they could sedate me to take the blood. Peeps said "no thanks, you've done enough damage."

Torture me all you want, I'll never give up my furrends! Is this any way to treat
It's now almost 5 pm and I still haven't tried to jump on anything. My back is extremely sore and I even hissed at Pop when he tried to pet me. TW says my breathing is rather fast. The peeps are worried and aren't sure what to do except watch me and wait. I've eaten some and have done some washing. TW doesn't want to try to play with me until I calm down more than I have. They don't know how bad my back is hurt and is hoping that it's only temporary She has promised that they'll never take me back to that place except if it's an emergency.

ADDENDUM: It's now almost 8 pm and I'm happy to report that I'm feeling much better. I've been jumping on things again and I've eaten and used the litter box. Those jerks put quite a scare into my peeps. They think that Dr. Sadist might have saved my life, by telling them to stop hurting me when I was having respiratory problems. That Dr. Yuppie would've kept going until she got the blood. When she spoke to the peeps, she was more concerned with whining about her still-bleeding thumb.

Wordless Wednesday

Monday at the Movies

This could easily be entitled Where's My Meal Monday, as TW was showing off my new raised kitty dishes that she got on special. What's the matter, woman, I'm not worth full priced dishes?? I was NOT impressed cos as you can see THEY ARE EMPTY. What's up with that? In fact, this week's Pathmark trip did NOT yield any Fancy Feast—grilled tuna or otherwise. They said I had enough for the week and it was a whole 69¢ a can. The store brand was on sale and I won't eat that because I DESERVE BETTER! I guess TW wants to be my finger food again. The video could also be entitled TW is a SLACKER as she didn't even bother to edit in the video captions I axed for. This little kitteh is ready to pack her bags.

CK and TW Remember

Our precious little girls: Faith and Autumn, whom we still miss so much:

 as well as the humans, who we were close to:

Please go to who provided this image

You can read more about Faith and Autumn on last year's LiveStrong post.

TW had very leaky eyes while putting this post together. She misses her Mom and Dad.