Showing posts with label tail-less cat. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tail-less cat. Show all posts

Monday, March 16, 2015

Fun Facts About Lilybits, a Versatile Blogger

It's time for another blog award, but this one is pure fun!

Lily and I were nominated by a very versatile blogger, who has been on the A to Z Meme blog hop along with me, Lisa Betz. Thank you, Lisa! I hope you will be blessed by her blog as I have been!


The Versatile Blogger Award simply requires that I share seven facts about myself. The seriousness or significance of said facts was not specified. So I decided to opt for silliness. And the epitome of
silliness is Lilybits at the helm!

But first, the rules for those who are nominated:
  1. Show the award on your blog
  2. Thank the person who nominated you.
  3. Share 7 facts about yourself.
  4. Nominate 5 blogs.
  5. Link your nominee’s blogs and let them know.
Lilybits here: I had to wrestle the MacBook away from Mom, but she finally conceded that seven interesting facts about me would be more engaging, more fun, etc. Here we go:

1. I am a recovering tuna addict. Let me explain this for you, because I’m an unwilling recovering tuna addict. Mom doesn’t open cans of tuna as often any more, because I yowl like a siren passing down the street when she does. I fuss and scream, begging for tuna as though my life depends on it, just hoping for a mere taste. Indeed, at that moment, it seems my life depends on ingesting a taste of that canned delicacy. The mere scent of it sends me into fits of rubbing my ribs on the corner of the kitchen-island and following Mom obnoxiously. Unfortunately, I must eat only special canned food. Blah, blah, blah, blah. Boring!



2. I don’t have a tail. You may have noticed this in my photos—or not. I have been cruelly deprived of that proud appendage, because of an injury and infection. Eventually, because of all the pain my beautiful ringed tail was surgically removed. Hence, I am sometimes referred to as “Lilybits, the Tail-less Wonder.” Why not? 



3. One of my best friends, in my old life, was a dog. The crazy cat lady who brought me to Pet Smart, that fateful day, when Jack and Kathy became my adopted, nearly hairless parents (well, I am their fur baby), I rode in a cage with a dog! The rest of it has become fuzzy (no pun intended), since I’ve become the center of attention. Besides, the drugs they gave me when I had my surgery made me kind of confused. All I know is that if I came to Pet Smart in a cage with him and I wasn’t hissing, so he must have been my buddy.


4. I speak a few people words. The one I practice the most is “Mom.” This comes out more like a pitiful “Mrowm” and works well when I want something to eat, which is most of the time when I’m not sleeping. I’m pretty good at saying, “no.” I sound especially sassy when I don’t want to be picked up. I also will throw in an occasional “what” when I am fully engaged in watching the birds at the bird feeder and Mom calls me. I sound pretty sassy when I say that too.

5. I have a pretty sweet deal when Mom covers my pill pockets with pieces of freeze-dried chicken. I know she’s trying to get me to take my tummy medicine more easily, but sometimes I eat around the pill and spit it out. Then she works harder at covering the mushy pill pocket with freeze-dried chicken treats, since she hates pilling me, and I wind up with an extra treat! Hee hee!



6. I am apparently a dilute tiger tabby. Mom always refers to me as her little gray tabby, but I am more complicated than that. I have lovely tiger stripes that can be hard to see. And while my undercoat and belly seem to be a creamy taupe, the tips of my fur on my back, sides and legs are darker gray. I believe that’s called ticked. So I’m not sure if I’m a dilute, ticked, tiger tabby or just a tiger tabby with ticked fur. Hmm . . . What do you think? Mom reminds me I am of mixed lineage, while Dad is happy to refer to me as a mutt.



7. I don’t like chocolate! Mom was so worried about my getting poisoned by getting into her vast hoards of chocolate, but that icky brown stuff is no temptation for me! I suppose Mom thinks she enjoys eating chocolate so much everybody should love the stuff. Not! My tastes are much more discriminating. Give me meat, poultry or fish or perhaps a piece of fine melted cheese and given a chance, I won’t turn my nose up at bacon. But that chocolate stuff is not for me, unless it’s an M&M, which conveniently falls to the floor, so I may play with it. Chocolate in that form makes an excellent toy.

And for the Versatile Blogger Award, Mom and I nominate: