Does any indoor purr need a roomate?

Since I only got one offer for lodging from my previous message I am submitting a second, more desperate one. For pity sake, take a really close look at my little nose. Dat's ice you see. Also just in case you read some of the negative squirrel comments on Fin's blog, I here by take the following oath.

I, Ozark Mountain Squirrel, herebye swear that I am NOT the squirrel who made a nest in the engine compartment of the biped's car. Nor contrary to rumors, I am not the same squirrel who ate the electrical wires off said biped's car thus rendering it nearly undriveable. I promise to be a great roommate, and will not eat any of your stinky goodness if you would be so kind as to invite me to share your warm abode.

Signed,
the frigid OMS

Formerly Feral Floof

Yes, its me again. The HEesh of the SHEesh and HEesh combo. I'm not absolutely possitive that sis and I were feral kittens, but we do know that John, the human that rescued us was. Let me correct that, John was feral, not a feral kitten. He lived on the wrong side of the tracks, in the town of Fresno which actually doesn't really even have a right side. John was a cowboy, gardener, plumber, painter when he was sober and feral when he wasn't. His sister lived next door to our biped and he occassionally visited her. Well one Sunday he showed up wif us and a couple empty beer bottles in a box. He knocked on the biped's door and asked her if she wanted a kitten. Well I looked like the biped's beloved Beau James so she immediately chose me. John threatened to leave the other kitten with his sister (another story wif a not so gud ending) so the biped reluctantly took us bof in da house. Can anyfur quess what Grandma Biped said?

Dear Fin

Last summer you mentioned that you wanted a squirrel. Is that offer still open for consideration? Our acorn supply is buried under a foot of snow and the lady that fills the bird feeder hasn't been seen for a week. We heard a rumor that she may have been held hostage by some cats.

signed,
The starving Ozark Mountain squirrels.

Winter Princess

I am Princess. The good Doggie. I have freed the poor biped from a life of flat diet soda and stale animal crackers. From now on, the cats will type their own blog articles along wif mine. I've invited the biped to stay on, her sole duty is to spread da word to all those other poor bipeds that have been tricked into thinking that only they can type their cat's blog.

Snap Snap... Type faster kitty, or you'll be the first Bob-tailed Ozark Mountain Cat

Frozen Toesises

Tuesday is supposed to be Tummies and Toes, but Annie (Anahera Maia) was feeling a bit bashful today so all we got was toes. Agewise she's the second from da oldest and is a short haired OMC. What is incredible, is that she was born in California. What a strange place for an Ozark kitty wif a New Zealand name to be found. She was a feral kitten when she was rescued and taken to a place called "The Cat House on the Kings". The Cat House has over 500 kitties of all size, shapes and colors. It even has a retirement home and a special area for Fiv positive kitties. Brofur Olaf also came from da Cat House, about a year after Annie.

Well da biped wants to go to bed so we're going to let her, right after we all jump into the bed. We find it a lot of fun making her bend into prezel shapes when she tries to sleep.

Annie

Mancat Mouser

****The song, "The Lion hunts tonight" plays softly in the background*** Quoting Sir Heesh, "I got da dirty rat!"

[[footnote]] Dirty Rat belonged to Sir Abner Goodfellow (a prestigious name for rather homelie cat). This merits mentioning because unlike every other toy brought home, he has remained intact for over six years as if in tribute to our fellow brother who left us way too soon.

Mencats Monday

Gentleman Heesh (brother to Lady Sheesh) whispers in his brother's ear. Perhaps they're planning a mouse hunt for later in the day. Mouse hunting is a mancatly thing to do isn't it? (Biped #1 lifts feet up and mouthes the word {{{mice?}}} (She thinks {{{If they're as over sized as these cats they'll weigh five pounds each..}}}

Abandoned Floof

Not much to type here. One stupid biped + disappearing car= Abandoned Floof. Poor AF (aka Yard Cat & Smudge) lived a year outside until he became tame enough to catch. After a little snip snip he became OMC #7.

Biped #1 new job assignment

I (Biped #1) has a new job assignment. Besides food disher-outter, litter box cleaner-upper, and groomer-floofer, I now am "chief" photographer. I am required to chase the little darlings around, snapping pictures to insert into their blog. Get too close, they hiss at you. Too far away and there is constant complaints. They even give suggestions such as, "If you'd get down on your knees you could get a better angle." With that said, I am supposed to introduce, Lady Sheesh. She is the rarest of rare Ozark Mountain Cats. She's a petite, short haired, tuxedo OMC.

Mancat Monday

Real Mancats' are Snugglers...

No Escaping

There appears to be no way to escape from these furthings. One or more of them was awake all night long. Its very obvious that the cats are in charge. The sub-serviant dogs were stationed as guards on the doors. At one point, the smaller one dozed off and I made a dash for it. Just as I reached it a HUGE cat wacked the dog on the butt and suddenly I was making a hasty retreat to my room.

We's got Furrends!

Wow, We’re in shock here. We finally woke the biped up about noon and found out we have three new furrends and a lot of visitors to our blog. We even have a foreign non-cat furrend named Brownie. Biped #1 said that Brownie’s blog is in sum languish called Spanish. He lives in the country where all the rich HGTV viewers go to retire. They say on TV that they move to Costa Rica because da people are really nice and its beautiful there. Da Hamsters must be nice too. According to da biped, Brownee said dat der are three towns in his country and in one of them all they have to eat is chocolate ice cream. Another town is made of pasta. Boy it would be really hard to decide which town you’d want to live in. Brofur Willie is ready to start packing when he heard da part about the pasta town, but the skeptical Heesh says he thinks we need to go up to the road and ketch us a bi-lingual biped cuz there may be a little problem wif da translation.

signed,
Biped #1 for OMC's

Post # 2 or Won't yau'l be our furrends?

Wow! We sure did ketch ourselves a good bidped. We may have to keep dis one locked up for a couple weeks till Brother Giggles finishes dat Bloggun' for Dummies book we got from our Freecyle friend. We all just decided to send Biped #1 over to the Cat Blogosphere place to see if we can sign up and find some furrends.

Ozark Mountain Cats

I quess we need to start wif a brief history of the Ozark Mountain Cats. We're a very rare and distinquished breed that resides in the Missouri (pronounced Mizzura by the local bipeds) Ozarks just southwest of the Boston Mountains. Now there are some (bipeds mostly) that would argue that nothing in Mizzura is distinquished but we (at least a few of us OMC's) would argue wif dat. OMC's (Ozark Mountain Cats) love to argue just for the sake of arguing. That being one of the traits of a OMC. Its also a trait of the local Ozarkians. Perhaps we got that trait from them, or they got it from us. Brother Willie Cat being the best arguer amonst us.

Well now folks we're going to have our typist (Biped #1) push the preview button to see if we actually have a blog. She's not a very experienced blogger so it may take us a little longer to get our blog on line. We may have to go up on the big road and catch another typist. They're out there in the cold in their silly traveling machines sliding around in the ice.