Here I Am!

Hi everybody! It's me, John John! Did you miss me? I am sorry that I have not blogged in a wicked long time. It's just that, well, I do do other things than blog. I nap. I eat. I drink water and I scoop it in the bathtub. I also play with Hovermouse and my other toys.

I'm also very reliant on my mother to get my blogs posted on the in-ter-net. See, my paws are kind of chunky and I don't understand this QWERTY thing, so I dictate and she types. She's not been "available" much lately. After my last blog, work was wicked crazy plus she and Dads were doing home improvements. Then they visited my Hawaiian Bampy (aka my grandpa) who turned 87 on June 2nd.

Moms and Dads flew to Honolulu to celebrate the day. They had dinner at a fancy pants buffet that had more seafood than could ever be crammed in a cat food can, and Hawaiian Bampy ate five desserts from the cake buffet. The kitchen also brought him out a special piece of cake, which was slightly on fire, because it was his birthday. He thought the fire stick was kind of funny, see?

My Uncle Daniel (Holla!) and Uncle David make birthday cakes for their cats (who do not exist, because me and Archy are the only cats in the world). They claim to have made a tuna fish souffle for Abraham's birthday and they even put a fire stick in it. No one caught fire and I think an adult had to both light and extinguish the fire stick. Fictional stories such as this make me and Archy wonder why a parade isn't thrown in our honor on our birthday. For the record, our designated birthday is December 14. Presents are gladly accepted -- on the day, or in advance. Whatever tickles your fancy.

Anyhoo, Hawaiian Bampy raises puppies. Moms stayed after Dads for one week on Kaua'i (where Bampy lives). The day after Dads went back to the mainland, Smokey (that's a girl dog) brought her pups home and shared them with Bampy. Smokey said she was sick of feeding them, so Hawaiian Bampy made Puppy Chow stew with fresh, homemade gravy. He really likes puppies. Here he is, holding four of them. You say that you only see three? Well. There's four. The fourth one is underneath the other three. If you listen closely, you can hear him squeek, "Help. Me."

On Kaua'i, Moms and Dads helped Hawaiian Bampy out a lot at his house. In the south, you can get a "red neck" tan. In Hawai'i, you get a red dirt tan. Here's Dads. You can clearly see where his socks began and ended on his legs. So shame.

Dads got to burn rubbish on Kaua'i. He liked it. Hapa the dog also liked to sleep in the embers. Dogs are weird.

While away, Archy and I stayed at Captain Kitts' All Inclusive Cat Spa (No Scurvey Dogs Allowed). According to the "Ship's Log," Archy was a lush and couldn't be held enough and I was aloof and kind of grumpy. I think they got it all wrong. I could not be more loveable. I am the mushmush. Archy is the grump pants. Now my parents are all confused. But since the Captain Kitts "crew" wrote it on my report card, I mean my Ship's Log, it must be true. The "boat" was full of cats but I kept telling myself that Archy and I are the only cats in the world and these were "others" or dead people, kind of like on Lost. However, that did not stop me from asking the Siamese to stop talking. Good lord. One can only take so much chatter before going mad.

In other news, my loyal readers may remember the greeting that Archy and I received from Peter, who helps the cat neighborhood association, when we moved into our new house. You recall that the entire conversation occurred through the door: Archy and I never saw him. Therefore, we weren't quite sure if there really was a third cat in the world. Well. We met Peter. See if you can find him in this picture. Hint: Archy's staring at him.Peter looks like us and Archy thinks that Peter is a cat. When I heard this news, I lost it and I had an asthma attack. A full blown asthma attack. It was so bad that Moms stopped saying, "Oh look! You've made a friend! John. Stop hissing at him!" to grabbing me and whisking me away into the fluffy fluffy bed upstairs for some calm-down petting and treats. It was bad. I'm not sure about Peter. I think he's the devil. And I think Archy might want to be his friend.

I love you all, dear fans. Send me some fan mail. Better yet, send some fan treats. Via FedEx. I can eat them faster that way. (Don't listen to my Moms. I am not on a diet. Send full fat treats, please!)

Purrs & Kisses - JDamn OUT!