A Year In Review

Well, another year has nearly ended. And I suppose I must now do what everyone else does at this time: I must recap the whole miserable year so you can see how awful it was for Matt and myself.

First of all, I threw up a total of 42 times, give or take a vomit. I was on the trans dermal prednisolone, which was rubbed into the inside flap of both ears twice a day....ughh. But a month and a half ago my ears were spared and I am now being forced to endure some pseudo-chicken flavored icky ick blaaaahhhhkkkkk stuff that Matt calls liquid prednisolone that he forces into my mouth with some sort of syringe. Although my ears no longer sting so much, my mouth has lost a great deal of its taste. All that just so I can digest my food. Just feed me mice and crunchy birds and I will be fine. Back to nature...outside into the elements...no, too cold. Maybe in the Spring. No, too wet. Aaahh, the Summer beckons me with its sweet aromas of dumpsters and roadkill. No, too many fleas. Forget the Autumn, too many prankster brats running amok.

Matt and I got an apartment, so no more hotels on our off-time. This means I got me a crow's nest to perch in. That was probably the only really good thing this year, that crow's nest.

Now Matt has a tree that he brought in stuffed in a box. He put it together in about an hour. I never knew you could do that. It had no roots or nothing. Then he put all this shiny junk on it. The junk looks cool on the tree, but no smells, birds, or bugs. He needs to take it back and get a better one. Maybe one with juicy squirrels living inside a knot-hole or something.

We have not heard from batboy in quite a while. He is either hibernating or he's dead. I am hoping for the former so I can have another crack at him. He looked so delicious, like a little angel-mouse (mouse with wings). Yum yum.

So anyway, I (we) hope next year, which should happen tonight sometime, will be better than last year (this year up til now).

"Of Course You Know This Means War!"

From the BBC in Toronto, ON:

[Mice may be responsible for a blaze that killed nearly 100 cats at an animal shelter near the Canadian city of Toronto, officials say.

The fire at the humane society shelter in Oshawa also killed three dogs and some rats that were up for adoption.

An initial report from the fire marshal says mice or rats chewing through electrical wires in the ceiling are likely to have sparked the blaze.

Offers of help have been pouring in from animal lovers across Canada.

"It's unfortunate and ironic that mice caused the fire that killed the cats," Toronto Humane Society spokesman Ian McConachie told the BBC News website.

"Unfortunately, the mice probably perished in the fire as well," he added.

The $250,000 (£137,000) fire is still under investigation by the Ontario Fire Marshal's office.

Mr McConachie said it would be some days before a final report would be released.

In all, only nine dogs, two cats and one rat were rescued in Wednesday's early morning blaze.

They are being housed in a nearby municipal shelter, while volunteers rebuild the burnt-down shelter for the Humane Society of Durham Region. ]

Matt and I are in Georgia now, getting ready to go up to the Toronto area. I will be on guard for any mice with matches and propane or possibly Molotov Cocktails being flung at our big rig, as we risk our lives while adding to Canada's pathetic GNP (while simultaneously shrinking our own trade deficit).

Though I think from recent experience that bats might have been in unison with the waywardly and genetically confused mice creatures that have started this insane war of terror, there has been no evidence to support this hypothesis. If any proof surfaces, I will scratch their little blind eyes out and rip their wings to shreds.

Isn't it strange that a rat was rescued, too? I'll bet the little rat bastard had something to do with it, and I can make him talk if necessary. Perhaps Matt will steer the big truck over to the shelter so I can question him thoroughly.

The grieving process must begin soon...and so close to Christmas.

(I did not invent Pinky and the Brain)

Bat Boy Found In Attic

When Matt and I were passing through town for merely a night’s stay at home, we took only the barest essentials and brought them upstairs in one trip. After we both settled down for the night, I heard some noise coming from the horizontal vent above, but just before, the front door. That’s where the air gets sucked into by the furnace. But this noise was a climbing sound of small feet. AND I COULD SMELL SOMETHING ALIVE and possibly quite juicy, and hear it breathing its little quick breaths of air. I knew immediately what it was ------ a BAT! A male bat, to boot!

Oh, it had been so long since I caught a bat and ripped its little wings off while hearing its little screams, egging me on to rip some more. So I sat below the vent...waiting....and waiting. Finally at about 5am (according to Matt) I started meowing loudly and longingly at the little creature, who straddled the grates staring down at me and thinking he was safe.

Matt could see some figure silouetted on the vent, too, and mumbled something about a mouse. Then the bat moved. He started climbing around on the grate toward his exit. For some reason Matt gasped and uttered "tarantula!" It was pretty early, after all. He ran to the kitchen and got some red container with a squeeze handle and ran back to me. Then he set it down and picked me up and carried me over to the kennel and locked me in! That bastard! Was I to miss out on some juicy, bat fricassee?

Matt started squirting the bat with this awful smelling stuff that obviously made him much too toxic for me to enjoy as a meal, but perhaps not too toxic to tear to pieces. The bat started climbing around to avoid the spray, as he seemed to not like it much. Then he climbed onto the smaller, vertical outside vent (facing the hallway) that Matt could see through the ceiling vent where the bat had been stalked by me. THEN Matt saw it was a bat. "That’s a bat!" Matt said. "I think I got him dizzy," he added.

So Matt took a towel and lowered the ceiling door from which stairs unfolded, and slowly climbed up the little staircase ladder and switched on the light. Apparently Matt forgot that bats avoid light, as his quarry (MY friggin quarry!) crawled up the side of the outside vent and disappeared. With no hole in the wall facing the outside hallway, he must have found a secret passage between two slabs of drywall, making his way to some other lucky cat’s apartment.

Word has it that the maintenance guy took a shop vac into our attic and searched for MY bat and found nothing. So a heavy screen mesh was used to cover the whole outer vent to keep the bat and his very toxic feces out of the apartment. And just to be safe, Matt bought some sticky paper at Walmart to lay around the attic floor next time we pass through again. But if that little fellah makes his way into the furnace air ducts and comes out one of the openings in the middle of the livingroom, I’ll be there. Wherever there is squeaking, I’ll be there. Where Matt sleeps and bats may swoop for a quick meal of blood, I’ll be there. I am a very light sleeper when little sounds are near. I will have my ounce of flesh...someday.

(photo borrowed from Bat Guys)

Trash Of All Kinds At TA's These Days

Sure has been a while since Matt let me post on my own blog!!! He's been obsessed with the election and all, and then angry afterward. I really don't see what the fuss is about. The cat hater lost in the Dem primary, you know the one who gave the cat away to strangers when they didn't need him anymore.

Today we saw lots of trash! First when we woke up at the break of dawn, we looked over to this trash compactor and saw a mountain of trash. Matt asked the lady at the desk when he went in to shower why that was so. She said it broke that morning, yes just that morning (yeah right, look at that mountain) and that repair guys were coming to fix it. Well, we may go back through Oklahoma City to the TA truck stop and check on the progress.

Then we went to Ft. Worth, TX where Matt walked around in circles for a half hour in Cabela's parking lot (exercise or something) and then to Amarillo to another TA. Here we saw more trash. But this was in the form of 14 to 15 year old prostitutes knocking on truck doors and saying "hey baby, yah want some commercial company?" When they got to ours Matt shook his head "no" and they kept walking. Then Matt phoned the police after the girls climbed into a truck, and the police came. Now get this, there were two girls, kinda short, in this guy's truck and the police came and the trucker talked his way out of it. The cop didn't climb inside to search the sleeper compartment where the girls were probably hiding, but stood at the doorway and talked to the driver for a long time. Then the cop left. And the underage girls are still hookers. Go figure. Maybe they snuck out the side door when we weren't looking. But there sure was a lot of trash today.

Happy Anniversary --- 3 Years And Counting

Today marks my third anniversary with Matt who adopted me from the SPCA in Easton, PA. Now it's called The Center For Animal Health And Welfare, and is still a NO KILL shelter. I am grateful to them for providing me a home from December of '04 until September 30, 2005 when Matt rescued me. But I would never wish to return. I had enough to eat and all that, but I had to spend most of my time in a cage with no one to pet me or throw me toys to play with. And some of the other cats were quite scary...you know, mental and stuff. Matt compares it to the island of lost toys...or something called Cuckoos Nest or something.

I never figured on being adopted by a trucker. It's a nonstop life of bouncing around, turning sharp, stopping abruptly, cramped quarters, and changing views. Though many of the views look like many others we've seen. We go home to an apartment nowadays. Used to be hotels. That was always interesting. But now I get to go home to the same place each time with a crow's nest to climb up into and huge windows to look out of.

Mixed Review On New Truck Offering

Matt and I had a look at the new trucks the company is buying. The reviews are mixed. The new truck is called Cascadia by Freightliner and has a new look, but not that new.

First the good bits.

1) Better insulation! The walls are thicker and better sealed, which means fewer ear drops for me when it gets cold. The Century we have now lets an arctic breeze in through the window crank and the door handle. Our current truck has to start up and shut off very frequently while we sleep in order to blow hot or cold air to maintain a comfortable temperature. No longer an issue.

2) Bunk furnace! Now we don't have to run the truck at all during the winter months. We can leave it shut off at night and sleep with no disturbing vibrations or shaking, thanks to a separate heating unit in the sleeper compartment where Matt and I snooze.

3) Better fuel economy! I don't really understand this one, but Matt says it means the company is less likely to go belly-up with lower fuel costs.

4) Comfy seats! Good for Matt. I lay on the dashboard.

5) Closet doors on closets! No more mesh nets that allow junk to spill out onto my tender little brain-cover. My noggin will be happier for it.

And now the not so good bits...

1) A/C not separate! We still have to idle the stupid truck in the Summer months just to stay cool. If Matt leaves the top sleeper windows open and the bottom vents open and the front windows open a little I won't die from suffocation. Also helps if he leaves the blower on low (so as not to drain the battery) to keep some sort of air circulation.

2) Power windows on both sides! Personally I have no problem with this. All I need to do is stomp on the buttons located on the inside door panels and the windows open up...FOR ME! I can get out and run around and get lost in joyful abandon. Matt says I will wind up in the kitchen of a Korean restaurant if this happens, even though I assure him I would return...eventually.

3) Power door locks on both sides! This means I can step on the buttons to allow strangers in the truck to pet me and give me treats while Matt is away...or asleep in the bunk. I get so lonely when he's gone. Again, no problem for me. And I don't see too many Koreans in truckstops.

4) Brake-seize-up-thingy! There is this thing that causes the brakes to seize up if you get too close to another truck or 4-wheel thingy, all for the sake of safety. I really don't know much about this except that the trucker we spoke to yesterday swore a lot about it...and loudly. I learned lots of new words yesterday, but cannot yet manipulate my mouth or tongue to speak them. Matt won't allow me to type them.

5) No place for the XM Radio antenna! In fact Matt says there is no where to attach anything at all on these new Cascadias. No flags, no banners, no CB antennas except a mount for small antennas only.

6) Limited storage! No more big open storage space above the windshield for me to jump up into (that makes Matt so angry!). Matt will miss it, too.

Matt says progress is two steps forward but one step backwards. I fail to see the logic there as lessons are usually painful to learn. Why take the one step back? Do humans forget the pain involved in learning? Go figure. Anyway we will probably be getting a new truck in March or so when the old one gets turned in. The old one should have 500,000 miles on it by then, maybe more.

Feast Of St. Francis

We're back on the road and driving lots of miles, about 3,600 in the first week, to be exact. Now we're out of hours and taking a day off to make them reset. Thirty-four hours of peace and quiet and Matt yelling and throwing stuff at me when I try to eat food off his plate. Aaaahhh. This is heaven. So relaxing.

Matt says we're in East Lexington, VA, but all I see is a parking lot with a lot of other trucks facing us. Two of them have dogs that keep barking at me, even though it's 2:30 in the friggin' AM. Looks like we're gonna miss the blessing of the pets at the local Lutheran church on October 4th. Yeah, something to do with St. Francis of Assisi or something. Guess he liked blessing animals to make them go to Heaven. Wonder if I could go there. Guess Matt doesn't want me to join him in the afterlife, or he'd get me blessed with all the other animals. Doesn't seem fair to me, no not at all. Doesn't seem fair that he eats in front of me, either. He eats some great smelling stuff, yes he does. Sometimes I forget myself and lunge toward him to grab it before it gets inside his mouth. He doesn't like that and yells at me.

MATT: You know, I shouldn't have to cut in so much to correct you. But I should mention that the blessing doesn't mean you go to Heaven when you die. It simply means you are blessed. Maybe you'll be healed of your ailments, or perhaps you'll be happier. But true salvation comes from accepting Christ as your Lord and Savior.

BUSTER: Anything in the Bible about pets doing that?

MATT: What? Accepting Christ?

BUSTER: Yeah.

MATT: Not sure, really... Animals are kinda dumb in the Bible,...and elsewhere.

BUSTER: Think He'd make an exception?

MATT: Hmmm... Depends upon where your heart is. (pause) Hey, I've got the St. Francis prayer for pets...if you want ME to bless you...

BUSTER: Sure, why not?

MATT: Okay, bow your head.

BUSTER: Okay (bowing head)

MATT: Blessed are You, Lord God, maker of all living creatures. You called forth fish in the sea, birds in the air and animals on the land. You inspired St. Francis to call all of them his brothers and sisters. We ask that you bless Buster Kitty. By the power of Your love, enable him to live according to Your plan. May we always praise You for all Your beauty in creation. Blessed are You, Lord our God, in all Your creatures! Amen.

BUSTER: I liked the part about the fish and birds. Wish He'd call forth some of them right now for me. Well, thanks Matt. I feel better all ready.

MATT: Hold on! Gotta sprinkle you with Holy Water.

BUSTER: Hey, is that the time? Gotta be going, I'd say.

MATT: It's 3am and we're out of hours, remember? Now hold still. (sprinkles water from plastic bottle).

BUSTER: Yeeeaaaaaccchhhhh!!!! (shakes violently) That's not Holy! That's Dasani!!!

MATT: I had to improvise. And there was no time for me to get ordained.

BUSTER: Oh great.

Matt's Pilgrimage To Ground Zero

BUSTER: Okay, so are you gonna tell me why you got up so early on Thursday? And why you got back so late? And why you didn't go to bed until Friday morning? Were you...were you out there...feeding some other cat????

MATT: No! Don't worry. You're the only cat for me, Buster.

BUSTER: Then would yah feed me NOW, please? The big hand and little hand say I'm hungry!

MATT: Sure, but let me answer your questions first.

BUSTER: *sigh*

MATT: You know about 9-11, right?

BUSTER: Yeah, even I know about that. Very sad, yes. And that's why you blog, right?

MATT: Yes. And do you remember me telling you I was on vacation at the time? And that by the mere flip of a coin I flew out west instead of NYC?

BUSTER: Yes, and you would have visited the WTC, too. You just don't know which day it would have been. Yes...you told me all that. But you flew back home on the 10th, right?

MATT: Yeah, because Priceline.com could only get me a flight back home then. I was trying for the 11th or 12th. It was the last time I flew on a plane.

BUSTER: Okay, so what?

MATT: So I dodged a bullet, that's what. But most of all, my country was attacked! So 9-11 is a big deal to me. And that's where I was.

BUSTER: Where? NYC? WTC? You're nuts!

MATT: They got it cleaned up. And they're starting to rebuild...but it's very slow going.

BUSTER: So what happened there?

MATT: Well, I drove up to Carteret and parked the car. Then I hopped the Jersey Transit Bus into Midtown Manhattan and caught the E train down to Ground Zero. But when I got there no one could get in to see the commemoration except dignitaries, victims' family members, or the press.

BUSTER: Couldn't you claw your way up a tree or the side of one of them tall buildings I saw on TV? That's what I would have done.

MATT: Then I should've taken you with me.

BUSTER: So what did you do?

MATT: Well, I drove all that way after getting up at 2:30am to report on the events for my blog. I felt I had to do...something. So I went to the desk where they gave out press passes and asked for one. After all, I am a blogger who reports news along with commentary, and I was there to cover the event. So why not?

BUSTER: And they gave you one??? Just like that? No strip search?

MATT: Yep! Of course they asked for credentials, first.

BUSTER: But you don't have any!

MATT: My blog is my credential. Fortunately one of them was armed with a Blackberry and visited St. Blogustine. Since my name and picture matched the ones on my blog, they let me in. Oh, and my not being a crackpot helped a lot.

BUSTER: Yeah (laughing), but do they know about THIS blog?

MATT: You mean my blog about a cat who talks? No, I didn't think it was a good time to mention that.

BUSTER: Smart move.

MATT: So they gave me a press pass to wear around my neck and I was escorted inside.

BUSTER: Inside?

MATT: Past the barriers. Past the obstructing trees that hid the events from the masses. All the way to the grandstand in the rear where the press was herded. We were not allowed to venture forth, though some did. But I got several good pictures during the event. I expected McCain and Obama to say a few words or even get on stage, but they never appeared.

BUSTER: Where were they?

MATT: Down in the pit meeting with other victims' family members. There were quite a lot of them.

BUSTER: So how was it?

MATT: Very depressing, very emotionally draining. Lots of crying, even after 7 years. Something was taken from all of us, but none more than from the family members. It was hard to watch at times.

BUSTER: So what did you do after that?

MATT: After taps was played I walked out the way I came in and followed the herd.

BUSTER: Ooh. Not a good move. Last time I did that I wound up at a shelter for 11 months!

MATT: I stopped in my tracks when I saw St. Paul's Chapel. Figured I would go inside and check it out. Lots of people there praying, so I joined them. Then they had a service full of politically correct prayers about diversity and other liberal chantings, so I left. Plus, the guy in the balcony with the video camera seemed rather intrusive.

BUSTER: No doubt.

MATT: So I walked around to the rear of the Chapel and found the crackpot, wingnut Bush-haters with their printed tee-shirts and signs making the wildest accusations you could imagine. Also found singing Christians and a prayer station, who by the way seemed much more in tune with God than anyone running that Chapel, IMHO.

BUSTER: So you took more pictures...

MATT: Yes, then I hopped the train back up to Midtown.

BUSTER: Did you see anyone you recognized?

MATT: Well, now that you mention it. While I was waiting to be escorted into the press area, I almost tripped over some lady who was kneeling to take pictures of the singing Mennonites. I was going to say something to her but several people squeezed between us, and then I was ushered out. Turns out that was Urban Infidel, who found plenty of things to photograph on the outside. Also thought I saw Pam from Atlas Shrugs, too. But she didn't look quite the same, so I couldn't be sure enough to walk up to her and say hello.

BUSTER: Too bad. So you hopped the train...

MATT: Yeah, up to Midtown. Wanted to go up to the NewsCorp building to see if I might spot anyone I recognize. Then I saw this painted on a firehouse door on 8th St..

BUSTER: Cool.

MATT: THEN I took a very crowded, jam-packed, sweaty bus back to my car and drove home.

BUSTER: And you were up til 5:30am fiddling about with downloading, uploading, organizing, posting, etc...?

MATT: Yep. Was up for 27 hours. Haven't done that since college. Still feel like crap.

BUSTER: No doubt.

Roller-Coaster Roads In PA

Matt and I have been very busy...driving. Matt does the driving and I...watch. Not much to report these days.

Yesterday we drove down to Hanover, PA on hwy 94, which is a two-lane road. It has many steep hills which stop abruptly at the top and then slope down rather sharply. Needless to say, Matt hit a couple of them rather fast. Usually when we drive down there he hits the brakes just before the top. But on these two he waited until we crested the point and then he hit the brakes. I almost lost my breakfast all over his log book. According to Matt it was like Carl Mauldin in Streets Of San Francisco! Our wheels didn't even touch the ground on one of those flying leaps. The scenery was nice, though. Lots of fruit trees and orchards and the like, which all looked blurry to me for a bit...

We're going home soon so I can jump in my crow's nest and feel tall...like Matt.

TV Dinner

Shameless Plug For A Friend's Book

Okay okay. Matt has this friend from college, some girl he used to know. Her name is Julie and she wrote this novel or something. He says it's well researched and a good read. And if you don't believe him you can go to Amazon and see the ratings. Matt already read it and liked it...even though it's a book for girls!

MATT: Why do I leave this stuff up to you? It is not a chick-book, but a Christian romance novel that would appeal to any Anglophile of either sex, and written in the same vein as your average Jane Austen book. It's well-researched and quite interesting. The story is wonderfully woven and it kept my interest throughout. You know how I often read almost half a book and set it down...and forget about it?

BUSTER: Uh...no. I hadn't noticed....because I can't read.

MATT: And that's a shame. But the book is quite enjoyable.

And So It Goes....

We're back on the road again and Matt is hitting every possible pothole he can find. Yes, I have already thrown up. It was at the end of the first day. Matt fed me too soon, so I barfed. Go figure.

MATT: Well, you were begging so much I figured your appetite was strong enough to hold down some food.

BUSTER: (shaking head) Never never never NEVER listen to me when I do that. You know I can't think straight when it's dinner time. Never feed me the first day back on the road. I will puke every time.

MATT: Yeah, I was hopeful. Sorry.

BUSTER: And what's with force feeding me water?

MATT: The prednisolone dehydrates you...and you don't seem to notice that it impacts your...you know.

BUSTER: My entrails? My juicy intestines?

MATT: I think I'M gonna barf now.

BUSTER: Coooool.

Vomitus Maximus

Well, I couldn't quite make 30 days without puking, but I did go from July 6th to August 4th and then let loose with a huge barf all over Matt's suitcase. He seemed to take it well, wiping it up without cursing this time but bemoaning my missing the 30 day mark.

Last month while on break Matt and I stopped at the Giant to pick up Matt's food items, some of which were thrown carelessly in the trunk of his little white 4-wheeler. When we got back to the apartment it appeared to me that a couple of things were missing as he carelessly threw items in the large cooler thingy. For three days, due largely to the outside heat, Matt stayed with me at home. On the fourth day Matt says he went to the car and opened the door and almost fell over from the stench. When opening the trunk he found the watermelon he forgot to take upstairs. So he threw it out and sprayed the inside of the trunk and 4-wheeler interior with Lysol. It seemed to work.

A couple of days ago when we returned from our tour of the exotic Midwest and Mid-Atlantic states and even Texas and Minnesota in the large red truck thing, Matt had the same experience again with stench in the 4-wheeler. But this time he loaded me and lots of stuff from the truck into the 4-wheeler, went to the same grocery store and got food stuff, then came home. Both of us smelled like the interior of the 4-wheeler by then. Uuugggghhhhh!

The next morning, rather than spray, he decided to empty out the stinky 4-wheeler completely (it had lots of junk in it) so he could wipe it all down. In doing this he found in the trunk an old package of once-fresh-and-delicious, Johnsonville brats (5 to a package, I am told --I can't count that high) buried under other stuff, that had gone VERY BAD over the past month. They were wrapped well, but they turned color and smelled powerfully rancid with old meat juice dripping. Considering the summer heat over the past month, it surprises me that there wasn't a pack of hungry, rabid dogs awaiting our arrival for the opening of the trunk, or perhaps buzzards circling overhead looking for their chance to grab some dead flesh.

With Clorox wipes and LOTS of Lysol spray, Matt hopes he has finally fixed the stinky car situation and that we can travel again without taking on an odor such as this. My money says he'll have to set the 4-wheeler on fire to really fix things. Matt refuses.

A Health Breakthrough?

As of last Monday I am back on Pro Plan for breakfast and dinner. It seems that whenever Matt skips a month in giving me that spot on the back of my neck to kill fleas, ticks, and earmites, I stop puking so much. Every vet we’ve visited told us it couldn’t be the Revolution, that I would have thrown up right away and then stopped. But application of Revolution lasts 30 days, which is about how long my bout with vomiting lasts.

So now we’re trying to reinstitute the Pro Plan cereal back into my diet to see if I can handle that. If I can then Matt will try to wean me off the Prednisone, too. He’s still mixing the Hill’s allergen formula with Pro Plan, so I’m not sailing free yet. But been on it for eight days and no puking, so crossing my toes on this one. I’ve really missed the Pro Plan!

Oops! Watch Your Head!!!

Now this is something that has never happened to us...though it could have. Our truck is very tall.

Technorati And Other Issues

BUSTER: So why the long face??? Oh sorry, you can't help that, can you.

MATT: Have you done time in the kennel lately?

BUSTER: Look, I didn't mean to offend. Don't get all thin-skinned and Obamma'd at me. I just wondered why you look so down.

MATT: I'm not down, just pissed off.

BUSTER: Okay, that's another thing. Are we saying piss now? Is that what we're doing?

MATT: Good point. I am vexed about Technorati rating St. Blogustine a mere 15. I've got 60 blog reactions on St. Blogustine and they still rate me that measly number. And I'm down from 20, which wasn't very high to begin with. I think it's a mistake....you know, to rate St. Blogustine that low.

BUSTER: Really? They rated St. Blogustine too low? What a horrible thing to do to St. Blogustine! I mean, to St. Blogustine no doubt. But I wonder if mentioning your blog so many times in ONE post will change that rating.

MATT: I dunno. Maybe. I mean I guess it won't. Because then I could link almost every word to St. Blogustine without even mentioning the blog name. You know?

BUSTER: Hmm. Yeah, I see. But why bother?.....Let's talk about something else.

MATT: Like?

BUSTER: Like your new diet. Why are you feeding me less while YOU are on a diet?

MATT: I didn't realize I was doing that... You want more food? Sorry, stupid question.

BUSTER: Uh-huh. A little more cereal in that dish would help fill me out if you don't mind.

MATT: Okay, just try to keep it down. You know....no puking.

Pissed In Gary, IN

We were on the road for a couple of days and now we're stranded. Matt says this may happen more often because the truck is getting older. But this sucks. I gotta sit in the kennel because the morons at Freightliner in Gary, IN call their building a "pet free zone." Yeah, I think people in Gary, IN have bigger fish to fry than banning pets from buildings. Try cutting down on all those murders you guys have. And maybe give up doing those home invasions for a time. You might find the quality of life goes up a little more abruptly when you do that instead of banning pets from air conditioned refuges.

The starter has gone out again in the truck. We had to wait 3 hours for some guy from Gary, IN to drive 8 miles in a utility truck to South Holland at the Lincoln Oasis on I-80 to tell us that. Then he attached a chain to our front bumper and pulled us until the truck started. Now we sit at the Gary Freightliner and wait. Matt hasn't showered yet today...and it's kinda hot out. You can imagine he reeks like my litter box about now. And ohhhh...he's in a foul mood today. And mine isn't much better. And the day isn't even close to being over yet...

Update--

Wow, what a difference several hours make. Yes, we are still in Gary, IN and the Freightliner guys are still stupid, but we gots us a hotel room!!! Yeah!!! There is nothing quite like checking into a new place with different carpeting and different curtains and fixtures and other things to scratch! Oh yes! I am having fun here driving Matt crazy. Hey! he got a pizza. I'll try to kick it out of his hands. Ooop! Matt has picked me up and is putting me in my kennel.

BUSTER: Hey! Not so rough.

MATT: Do you know what a little ass you're making of yourself? Do you know I only got 3 hours of sleep last night and 5 the night before?

BUSTER: I wasn't counting...but it seemed like you didn't lay down and breathe heavily for very long.

MATT: No, I didn't. And this room! Eeeewww, the smell....like a whorehouse. They used way too much air freshener in here.

BUSTER: I don't notice. I've been licking my butt for the last hour.

MATT: Eewwwww.

BUSTER: No, really!...squeeky clean!!!

Things That Go BOOM!!!

Today I am hiding under the couch at home from things outside that make a loud and sudden booming noise. I don't know how anyone else can live around that racket, but it has caused me to make several trips to the litter box. Once I almost didn't make it in time.

Matt has assured me that things are better here than in the truck right now, and that it's quieter and safer here at home. He's really full of it. Those kids outside have turned our once quiet street into a war zone. I'm trying to convince Matt to take his .44 mag Ruger Redhawk outside and show those little bastards what a real noise-maker is like. But he refuses. Something about felonious wrongful death or some such hairball junk. I dunno.

Stupid, Stupid, AT&T Wireless

Have not posted in a while for two reasons: first, Matt has not trimmed my nails in a while which are getting VERY LONG, causing me to hit the wrong keys. And second, AT&T Wireless set us up with a bum Sierra Wireless USB Connect unit. Please be patient. We will post somewhat regularly again when things are corrected. Until then you may not even notice that we are not posting....

The Caves

Today marked another first in my life as a trucker cat. For the first time I entered…The CAVES!!! These are located in Independence, MO as well as Kansas City, MO and other places nearby. In case you don’t have a clue as to what I’m talking about,…ask Matt.

MATT: I told you what to say about that. Tell them about the movie Deep Impact.

BUSTER: Okay, okay. There was this movie….Deep Impact…in which they all went to the caves…to live or something….so they wouldn’t die when the meteor crashed into the Earth…or something.

MATT: Yes, very good. The famous Caves which are always about 78 degrees year round, no matter how hot or cold it is outside. Lots of microfilm is stored here, and many businesses have warehouses located in many of these locations due to the advantages of the naturally consistent temperature. But today—

BUSTER: (interrupting) –Today we went there and some truck before us had crashed into a power thingy that makes electricity for lights and such. It was pitch black for the humans, but I could see just fine. Matt should’ve let me maneuver the passages with the headlights off.

MATT: Oh yes, that would have been great! It’s very tight maneuvering even with the lights on, but with them off I had to take extra care not to scrape the truck and trailer on the cave walls which were next to impossible to see. And to make things more interesting the walls are oddly shaped---they are not straight vertical from ceiling to floor. They still look like they were hastily gutted by some large apparatus you see in coal mining. And when I have to make a turn around a corner my tractor is nearly scraping one wall while the trailer barely misses the other. Here’s a couple pictures with the lights on. The lights were on one minute and out the next.

BUSTER: I can tell the rest of it if you don't mind. The lights were on one minute and out the next. Matt was stumbling around, fumbling for his flashlight, while I simply admired myself for my night optics. We both agreed, however, that there was too much diesel fuming going on in the Caves. We were happy to leave.

Back On The Road Again

The two-week vacation has ended and we are back on the road. In fact we've been out now for an entire week, running like crazy from here to there for a total of about 3,300 miles. We are out of hours and taking a day of rest while our hours reset for tomorrow.

Matt thinks it's great to have so many miles...as if business is picking up again. But I'm having a hard time adjusting to the truck again after being off for so long. And that air conditioning---UGH! He has it cranked all the time, it seems. I don't care for it, myself. It hurts my ears. Though I guess it's better than roasting with the doors and windows shut.

No flies yet to chase after, but lots of mosquitoes out early this year. Must be all that rain we've seen. And storms. While in Brookville, PA last week at a truck stop, Matt and I noticed some quickly swirling clouds in a circular motion above us in the midst of all those dark storm clouds, so we beat it on out of there pronto! And only 10 miles or so down the road we got a dose of hail. Not gravel sized but golf-ball! Then more in TN on the way to Chattanooga. We had to pull off the road both times, but it was dangerous because everyone else had the same idea. So Matt blew the horn while I reached out and clawed the air at them to frighten them into submission so they'd move...and they did. But I got no treats for my involvement in saving us.

Right now I'm typing this with my strap-on opposable thumbs while laying on the driver's seat (where I belong) while Matt is watching 3:10 To Yuma, which he says is really good, but is a remake of an older version which he hasn't seen. Oh well.




Don't you hate it when they show pretty much the whole movie in the trailer?

Oh Boy, I'm On Vacation....*Yaaawwn*

Been on vacation for over a week now at the apartment...*YAAAAAAAAWWN*...that I've become fully and completely bored. Two days ago I started counting things. I counted the blades on the window blinds, how many steps it takes from my litter box to the crow's nest, from the crow's nest to the fridge, the fridge to the litter box to the window perch, to Matt's bed, etc...

I miss seeing the scenery fly by at high speeds. It made me sick at first, and I had to bury my head under Matt's bunk pillow the first day on the road. But now I guess I've gotten so used to it...so used to it, in fact, that I long for it. Is that strange? All day long I sit around the apartment doing nothing. Even my toys, once a source of frenzied excitement to me, have become symbols of imprisoned inertia. I feel like John McCain at the Hanoi Hilton...but without the torture...or bad food...or lack of a controlled indoor climate...or other horrid living conditions, etc... Have I taken on some mental illness that requires me to be "confused?" Do I need to go to Confuse-A-Cat Ltd.???

I've Been Everywhere...

BUSTER: Hey, that was pretty good.

MATT: Johnny Cash? Yep. Pretty good.

BUSTER: I feel just like him. Since I've been in the truck with you it seems like I've been just about everywhere.

MATT: Everywhere but the great North West. I'm pretty sure you haven't been to Washington or Oregon yet.

BUSTER: You seem a little down... You okay?

MATT: Not really. I found out from my employer that the final decision has been made, and you will have to vacate the truck by the end of next March.

BUSTER: Hmmm. I see. Well, that gives us til next March at least. Are you leaving too?

MATT: I kind of doubt it. I'm going to have to find you a new home.

BUSTER: A new home? You mean back to the shelter, right?

MATT: Well, I'm kinda obligated by the contract I signed when I adopted you that I would return you to them if we have to part company. That's good in a way, because they can take their time screening people who want to adopt you. Plus, they aren't run by the county now. They're a private non-profit organization, and they're still a no-kill shelter.

BUSTER: No-kill? Well, that's a relief!

MATT: I'd say "screw 'em" if they were.

BUSTER: You remember it took over 11 months for someone to adopt me last time around. That was you.

MATT: Yes, but you have some advantages now. This time you come with a box of toys, my phone number if the prospect has questions, and that $159 crow's nest. You won't be mystery kitty anymore. You'll have a nearly full medical history (last 3 years) and dossier with feeding and medicine recommendations along with a personality profile I will create very soon. I also plan to volunteer there on my time off, once per month or so, to keep an eye on how you're doing until they find someone to adopt you.

BUSTER: All that and a bag of hairball treats, eh?

MATT: I will hold onto you as long as I can and not part with you easily. You have been a true blessing for me since the day I adopted you. And you will surely be missed...

BUSTER: The feeling is mutual. But you know, a lot can happen between now and then. I mean, although not likely, what if another company buys your employer and feels differently about pets?

MATT: I dunno.

BUSTER: Or what if your friend Paul is right about fuel prices being a bubble about to burst, and the prices go down a bit, boosting the economy? You could probably find a job with a company that allows cats and get time under your belt until the real recession hits.

MATT: When did you get so smart?

BUSTER: All that XM Radio you listen to, I listen to, too.

MATT: But what if March comes around and I have to give you up?

BUSTER: Then you have to give me up... Look, I know you won't put me in a situation where my life is in danger. The shelter sucked before, but it wasn't THAT bad. And by then we will have had 3 and a half good years together. It's been quite a trip, to tell you the truth. I don't even think the other cats will believe me when I tell them I've been everywhere... But in all honesty,...if you weren't with me I don't think I'd want to live in a truck the rest of my life. I was a stray once so I'll probably never be allowed to roam outside again,...but to have that crow's nest everyday to jump up in with a view outside.... I might not mind if my new owner is an old lady who smells funny and wears flowery dresses. You know?

MATT: I know.

BUSTER: I'll be okay, in other words... How 'bout you?

MATT: I feel a little better about this now. Thanks.

Broke Down On I-76

Here we sit waiting....and waiting....for someone to come by and fix our rig. We busted a turbo clamp and are waiting for road service. We are at mile marker 102 on I-76 in PA

Wow! They're here already....and fixed! Cool! We are on our way...

VERY BAD NEWS

We are home now for a 4 day break from the road, but all is not well…

For a while now Matt and I have goofed off a bit on line in front of all you readers for our own enjoyment as well as yours (hopefully). But now a shadow has been cast by Matt’s employer, whose name shall not be uttered out loud.

Seems that because fuel prices have skyrocketed, most trucking companies have been searching for creative ways to cut down on costs. Some have been purchasing new trucks with APU units which heat/cool the interior of the cab without running the engine. Matt and I think this is a great idea. Or we did until we found out that having a pet in the truck with dander and sheddings causes the expensive filters to clog, causing other problems….

We don’t have an APU unit in ours, which means Matt idles the truck engine while he’s sleeping in the vehicle so we don’t freeze in the winter or die of heat stroke in the summer.

So, to make a long story short…. Matt’s employer has instituted a new pet policy which translates into a NO PET POLICY. By March 31^st, 2009 I will be forced to vacate the truck (owned by the company) and leave Matt to drive down the road alone once again.

I have asked Matt if he would consider quitting his fairly high paying job that he’s had for 5+ years and work for another company which would allow him to drive locally (and be home every night). Or perhaps drive for another long-haul outfit that still allows pets.

He informed me that another large company similar to ours is already laying off drivers, and that local driving companies don’t pay as well and are also affected by the “slowdown.” Plus, many other companies who have allowed pets are now or soon to be instituting the same NO PET POLICY. Matt said what he would need is a career change. But that would still mean starting at the lowest rung of the ladder with crappy pay.

What Matt has done is inform his employer that he is willing to pay an annual, nonrefundable fee or perhaps take a cut in pay just to keep me on board. He is willing to do this because if I leave the truck Matt must find me a new home, meaning he and I will be separated forever, and he isn’t too keen on doing that. So far his employer will not budge. They are determined to run me out of the truck.

Recession bites

Freight has been slow, and we are sitting often or getting really dumb loads. By dumb I mean really stupidly, short insignificantly dumb dumb stupid friggin' rotten---

MATT: (interrupting) I don't think you need to belabor the point there, kitty. You already made it by saying things have slowed down.

BUSTER: Yeah, but they're so du--

MATT: (interrupting again) --Yes, I know how frustrating recessions can be. No one wants to buy anything until they see just how bad things will get. And that, in itself, causes things to get worse. The miles are gonna suck for a while. Fuel is horrendously expensive. And soon it will mean higher prices everywhere.

BUSTER: So you blog more during a recession? I couldn't help but notice on St. Blogustine you've made quite a few posts lately. But here you haven't really done much. Is it all those Europeans looking for porn that bother you?

MATT: Hmmm. No, not really. If they wish to bask in filth, that's their problem.

BUSTER: I also noticed you haven't played with me much lately. Are you mad at me?

MATT: No, just the opposite. You haven't puked in quite a while. That's a positive. I can't stand cleaning up your barf from my log book or pillow...or wherever you spew your cereal. I guess I'm not in a playful mood, but a worrying one. I see storms on the horizon.

BUSTER: Seems to me that playing with me might take your mind off your troubles... But first you gotta buy me new toys. These are all chewed on. Make sure they're the ones I like, with lots of catnip. Yes, yes, catnip is always good. Now, I want several of them all lined up...if they're mice make sure their tails are at attention. Then I want---

MATT: (interrupting yet again) ---You want you want you want..... *sigh* .... Okay, but I may have a couple in the bin we haven't opened yet. (checking bin) Here's a few.

BUSTER: Toss 'er here!

Prelude To A Wreck...(Possibly Fatal)

A couple of days ago,...the 3rd, I think, Matt and I were heading south on a US highway (I forget the number) when we saw over on the other side (the north bound lanes) a green Pontiac something-or-other at a dead stop in the passing lane (left lane). Matt says he saw the driver sitting there looking down toward his lap area, possibly reading something,...or maybe having a seizure possibly?

We were going kinda fast heading south, so Matt reached for his CB microphone to warn the north bounders of the obstacle, when we saw two trucks running abreast (side by side) heading north toward the parked car. The truck in the right lane was a car hauler, what we usually call a "portable parking lot" and the other was a white straight truck (the kind that doesn't bend in the middle).

Matt's first instinct was to look to the right for a place to park on the shoulder, as he knew what would probably happen, and his help would be needed. But there was no place wide enough to pull over.

So as he looked into his rear view mirror (we had by then zoomed past the car) while warning the north bounders of the parked car ahead, he saw the dust fly from around the white truck as it slammed on its brakes to avoid hitting the car (not being able to swerve due to the other truck running beside it in the right lane). Matt had to ask other north bounders who made it to the scene if the truck hit the car...and it did. But we were too far away to help.

So now Matt is dealing with the frustration of seeing the prelude to a possibly fatal accident and being powerless to act. Such is the life of a trucker. They see this kind of stuff every now and again. When I lay on the dashboard I try to look the other way when these events take place. But even then there are times when I have to look. In the past 12 months we've seen more than our share. Most we saw after the fact, with bodies covered up and wreckage all mangled. But this one we saw before it happened,...and could do nothing but warn others of the mess after the fact.

Yesterday's "Big" Trucker Strike

Yesterday was April Fool's Day, and therefore the day truckers decided to have themselves (ourselves) a slowdown. Matt and I drove very slowly all day with the turn signal on, just like old people do. And we only drove about 220 miles. That sounds like a lot, but for a trucker it really isn't.

We saw many...and I mean MANY trucks on the road yesterday, so it may not have gone as well as you might have heard. The goal has always been to show the rest of the country how important we are to the economy by shutting down and making people beg for products they take for granted. After all, everything you have in your house, your car,...everything was brought to the store from the factories by trucks.

Matt once told me how the morons out in California once tried to ban diesel trucks from the state. The bill actually made it to the floor of the State House in Sacramento, but was voted down. Guess someone realized at the last minute that all the gasoline the cars use is transported by tankers using diesel. Too bad. It would've been nice to see those idiots stew in their own cat poop for not thinking things through.

Anyway, we hope all the great press we got for this so-called strike will amount to changes at the pump. We're using about 100 gallons of diesel per day on average, and paying over $4 per gallon. Do the math. Prices in general will have to sharply rise in order for us to make a living hauling your stuff.

Held Over For Easter...

Well, Matt and I are still home. That may come as a surprise to some who were told we’d be on the road hunting for Easter bunnies on Saturday morning. I am obviously disappointed in this development.

Freight was/is slow due to this holiday weekend, so nothing that needs to go out today. But there is a load waiting for us to pick up at our terminal going to Georgia, where things are a bit warmer. We’ll get that load tomorrow afternoon after Jesus rises. Honestly I don’t know why he has to be killed year after year only to be resurrected again each time. Seems to me it conflicts with the Easter bunny hunt. At any rate, there are ducks near our building and they might make tasty substitutes. Plus, I just love feathers!

I don’t think Matt minds staying another day and a half at home. He found out he cracked his lower, left rib when he fell last week. Made it kinda hard to cough, too, with his bronchitis and all. Now he’s on the mends and coughing up all kinds of nasty crud. Good job, Matt.

MATT: Thanks, Buster. Incidentally Jesus only died once and was resurrected once. Each year we celebrate.

BUSTER: You celebrate his death? Does he know that?

MATT: The death AND resurrection. The latter is the most important, but you can’t have that without the former.

BUSTER: Yeah,…but still…

MATT: Trust me,…he doesn’t mind.

BUSTER: Okay, okay....... Hey, Matt!

MATT: What?

BUSTER: Would yah mind openin' the blinds??? Gotta look for ducks!

MATT: Sure thing.

Let Me In

BUSTER: I don't get it.

MATT: Ask Leslie.

BUSTER: Fine.

Matt's Birthday Today (*Yawn*)

BUSTER: Okay, so now what?

MATT: Well, with that Fonda stuff out of the way, we have a few things to catch up on.

BUSTER: *Sigh*

MATT: First of all, today is St. Patrick's Day. Secondly it is my birthday and---

BUSTER: (Interrupting Matt) --Oh boy! St. Patrick's Day?!? That's cool. Can we go outside and watch the parade? Do you color my cat food green? Or put green dye in my water dish? Will you buy me a green colored mouse to chase and grab with my claws and clamp down with my toothy jaws, ripping its----

MATT: (Interrupting Buster) No mice!...not real ones, anyway. Did you happen to hear me mention it's my birthday today?

BUSTER: (rolling eyes) Hmmmpphh. It's aaaallllll about you, isn't it? Today is yooooouurrrr special day, right?

MATT: Well,...yes, but not only about me. I mean it's just that--

BUSTER: (Interrupting Matt again) ---Oh! You're going to share your special day with meeeee?

MATT: You know I'm really not feeling that well today, so take it easy.

BUSTER: Wassamatter?

MATT: Well, I'm coming down with something...I don't know exactly what, but my voice is going out. Plus I fell the other morning...

BUSTER: Ahh yes, the fall. I heard that when I was hiding behind the couch.

MATT: It was 4am and I was woken up by you again...so I wanted to stick your noisy butt back in the kennel, when I stood on the couch with one foot and leaned the other on what I thought was the floor...

BUSTER: But it wasn't the floor, was it?

MATT: No, it was one of several books without a shelf that was particularly slippery, causing me to fall sideways, slamming my head on your crow's nest on the way down to my sickening thud.

BUSTER: Oh no. Is THAT what happened? I knew it didn't sound good.

MATT: It didn't feel good either. So now I have a bruise on the left side of my head and a sharp pain on my left side just below the rib cage. I'm wondering if I bruised a rib, a muscle, or an organ. Any idea what organ is on that side?

BUSTER: Well, on a bird or mouse it's usually the intestines, but could be upper or lower at that point. Usually pretty tasty either way, though. Want me to open you up and check? (holding right paw upright with gleaming claws at ready).

MATT: No. If pain persists I'll have it x-rayed.

BUSTER: Bummer.

THIS IS NOT A PORN SITE!!!

It has been brought to my attention that several hundred, dirty-minded Europeans have visited this blog looking for naked pictures of Jane Fonda. Well, we only have one. But nothing is really exposed that your nasty Euro-imaginations could drool over, so please take your trashy fantasies elsewhere.

The purpose of posting those pictures was to show what a floozy idiot Jane Fonda can be at times, when she isn't committing acts of treason against her own country, or giving slips of paper handed to her by American POW's containing military serial numbers to enemy prison-keepers, resulting in endless beatings for said POW's who were simply trying to get Hanoi Jane to get those numbers back to family members so they know their military loved ones are still alive. It was to show she still has no self-control or common sense of any kind.

Even as a cat who licks his own behind, I know better than most of these Europeans who spend every waking moment getting their rocks off, drooling on their keypads over naked pictures of a California fruitcake. So please go somewhere else for your cheap thrills. Or better yet, go somewhere you haven't been in years...if at all. Go to church! Get right with God. You'll have to meet him sooner or later. Might as well be with your soul in order.

BUSTER: How was that?

MATT: Hmmm.....not bad. It is a little harsh in spots, but I like the ending.

Save the CATS...and dogs

Due to all the CATS and dogs that are being abandoned simply due to foreclosures on properties owned by irresponsible humans, I am now collecting for the ASPCA. See donation widget on the right side column. Thanks for your support.

Euthanizing With Carbon Monoxide?!? Illinois Seeks To Ban

The shelter in Easton, PA, from which I was rescued (thanks, Matt --and sorry for scratching you yesterday) has a “no kill” policy which seems to work for them. But apparently in Illinois it’s still okay to execute unwanted or abandoned animals (both dogs and CATS) for the sake of their owners’ lack of responsibility. And in Illinois, along with a small group of other states, it’s still okay to use Carbon Monoxide poisoning to do the deed.

Don’t get me wrong, though. I know it must be necessary at times when a dog or CAT is in untreatable pain to put them humanely out of their misery. Or even if the animal is so unmanageable that finding a home is an impossibility. But just read the excerpt below from a Chicago Tribune article about what carbon monoxide entails:

[Illinois is among eight states that still allow dogs and cats to be euthanized by pumping carbon monoxide into a special chamber, Matyas said. Four or five dogs are put into the chamber, which is about the size of a dumpster, along with a similar number of cats, he said.

As the gas seeps into the chamber, the dogs sometimes panic and begin fighting, Matyas said. It often takes more than 30 minutes for the animals to die.]

Read the full article and view the video by clicking here.

Hat tip to Culture Wire.

Arguing In Georgia

BUSTER: (serious) Is that supposed to be funny?

MATT: (smiling) Yes. I believe so.

BUSTER: Is that directed at me?

MATT: ...Yes...I believe so. (smiling again)

BUSTER: You know...the color is wrong!

MATT: The color?

BUSTER: YES, THE COLOR! I'M NOT ORANGE!

MATT: (laughing) Oh, that color. Yes,...the color is wrong. But the rest of it hit right on target.

BUSTER: Are YOU the big fat guy?

MATT: (stopped smiling) You know...you do lay around an awful lot....doing nothing...just eating and sleeping and pooping.

BUSTER: Yeah...well, there isn't a whole lot to do in this truck, you know. At home I can run around the living room and into the kitchen and back. I can jump up to the window sill, bounce on your bed, wipe my nose on your pillow, and claw my way up the side of my crows nest to the top tray feeling as though I've accomplished something meaningful.

MATT: You can do that here, too.

BUSTER: (shaking head) Nope! Here I run up to the dashboard and sit next to the windshield...until you blast the defroster to chase me off--

MATT: (interrupting) --You sit next to that freezing cold windshield....I chase you off for your own good. Then I--

BUSTER: (interrupting) --you chase me off so I have to run a very short distance to the bed and sit or lie down. That's what I get to do all day...sit or lie on your bed. You won't let me jump in your lap while the machine is moving--

MATT (interrupting) --the truck!

BUSTER: --while the truck is moving. You get mad if I try to jump up to the top bunk--

MATT: (interrupting) --Do you realize what will happen if I have to slam on the brakes if you're up there? You'll fly forward too fast for your claws to grab onto anything...and you'll crack your little furry head open on my overhead compartment...or worse yet...the windshield! At least with the lower bed you can hide behind the suitcase---

BUSTER: (interrupts) ----The suitcase!...oh the suitcase...my only salvation from complete and utter boredom. Digging my claws into it gives me brief and fleeting jolts of pleasure. The only thing more pleasurable would be to sink them into your face...

MATT: (interrupting) --That's it!!! Into the kennel you go. (grabs Buster and shoves him into plastic kennel, locks door). Sorry kitty, but that was the wrong thing to say just then...

BUSTER: Let me out.

MATT: No!

BUSTER: I have to go to the bathroom.

MATT: Liar.

BUSTER: All that arguing got me excited. I have to go potty.

MATT: You'll scratch me again.

BUSTER: No, I promise. I really have to go.

MATT: Oh, okay. But you better not be lying. (opens door to kennel, Buster climbs out)

BUSTER: (Runs to litter box...does his business...climbs out, saunters up to Matt and scratches his right leg).

MATT: HEY!!! You promised!

BUSTER: I know, but I don't have to go to the bathroom anymore.

MATT: Hmmm. I wonder if John McCain will be like that.... (picks up Buster and returns him to kennel, locks door).

Buster Gets The News On Fred...Finally

BUSTER: Ahhh. Finally home....up in my crow's nest. The only thing better would be if I had a crow with me to chew on. *Sigh*

MATT: I'm afraid I have some bad news.

BUSTER: (commanding) Out with it!

MATT: Yes, master. (laughing) You know, you're making this easier to tell you.

BUSTER: (seriously) What is it?

MATT: Fred Thompson withdrew from the campaign. His numbers were pretty bad in South Carolina, so he dropped out.

BUSTER: (disbelief) HE DIDN'T!

MATT: He did. In fact he did it almost two weeks ago.

BUSTER: Two weeks ago?!?!? Why didn't you tell me sooner?

MATT: You weren't feeling well, and I figured I'd better wait 'til we get back into town and get settled in.

BUSTER: Oh, is THAT what you thought? (deeply offended) You know, I would've wanted to call him with my condolances or send him a message or something...

MATT: Yeah, that was the other reason...I guess.

BUSTER: I'm not talking to you anymore! (turns his back)

MATT: Aw, come on...



Right about here was supposed to be a short video of me in my crow's nest ignoring Matt. Unfortunately both You-Tube and Blogger failed to allow us to post this video. It wasn't too long or obscene. We don't know what the heck their problems were. Sorry.

The Joys Of Traveling For A Living...

MATT: Feeling better, bud?

BUSTER: (looking a little green) Uuugghhh! I guess so….a little bit.

MATT: Sorry about the bumpy road. You’d think Florida would have nicer pavement due to the lack of ice and snow.

BUSTER: (looking at vomit on rug) What do you want me to do with this?

MATT: Throw some sawdust on it and I’ll scoop it up later.

BUSTER: We don’t have any sawdust. All we have are pages from USA Today I scratched up.

MATT: Forget it. I’ll pull into that rest stop and clean it up. (steering rig to off-ramp….gliding into rest area). There we are. (pulls into parking spot and sets break [loud hissing sound])

BUSTER: (squints) I hate that sound. (looks at food dish) I’m hungry. Would yah fill my food dish please?

MATT: Not a good idea.

BUSTER: Why not? I’m starving. (yawns and licks chops)

MATT: (applying paper towels to mess and scooping it into waste basket) Because you just threw up and your stomach can’t take food yet. You’ll bring it back up within minutes.

BUSTER: Well, then I’ll just keep eating until I stop throwing up. (smiles and nods head)

MATT: What a great idea. Boy, Buster I can’t figure out sometimes why you aren’t the one driving and I’m not the one playing with your catnip toys.

BUSTER: Yes. I should be in charge. And then YOU can march into the plastic kennel for meowing so much at night.

MATT: Back to reality.

BUSTER: (lowers head) Okay… Sure is a lot warmer today.

MATT: That’s because we’re getting close to Orlando. But don’t worry. We’re getting another load tonight going right back into the snow.

BUSTER: Brrrrrr. Where to?

MATT: Palmyra, PA

BUSTER: Hey, that’s close to home, right?

MATT: Yup. And we’ll get to spend a night at our new apartment. But then we gotta go again.

BUSTER: *sigh* I guess one night is better than none. And you can move all that stuff out of here to make more room.

MATT: Oh yes, the furniture. That will be moved out promptly. It’s driving me nuts, too.

BUSTER: Glad to see I wasn’t the only one…..(looking at rug) You missed a spot.

MATT: And in a couple of weeks we can take some real time off,

BUSTER: Two weeks?

MATT: No, more like 4 to 5 days.

BUSTER: Wow, that’s a month and a half.

MATT: No, not 45 days. Four… to… five of them. We’ll take our two-week vacation in late Spring. And we’ll stay home at Club Buster.

BUSTER: Lovely.