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marthawells

Martha Wells

My Flying Lizard Circus


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John Green Tree
marthawells

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Since about the time Spike died, our cat Bella became the-cat-who-lives-upstairs and refuses to come downstairs for any reason. We tried carrying her down there, feeding her down there, moving the litterbox down there (that really, really didn't work). It got worse when we got Tasha, who was kind of an angry kitten and immediately started to push Bella around, and took the opportunity to seize control of the downstairs. (Except for Harry. Harry's territory has no bounds. But he doesn't care if other animals are in it as long as they don't do anything that forces him to notice that they exist.)

The one benefit of the failed break-in at the next door neighbors' house was that, while looking for my glasses and phone in the dark and trying to wake morfin up, I apparently spoke to him in the voice of the Exorcist and that convinced Bella that she might want to leave the upstairs for a while. While we were sitting in the dining room watching the cops search the neighborhood, we realized she was down there with us. Yesterday I carried her back down to the bay window and she actually stayed there for most of the afternoon with Tasha. She's down there now.



Bella and Tasha


Bella

And here's a bonus rosebush. It grew from a cutting that was probably less than six inches long:

This is after I pruned it.



Harry


Spike
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Bella's an awfully pretty cat. I hope she'll spend more time down there with the family now. Don't you just wish we could find a way to hear what's going on in their heads? We have a problem kitty among our herd who seems to love and trust us, but still acts out quite a bit, mainly by attacking one of our other cats. I can't help but think that he's still afraid of neglect based on past experience.

Thanks! I hope so too. I feel like she's got a good memory for traumatic events. We got her from the shelter, where she was a barncat, a rescue from a farm that had burned down. We keep our cats inside, but she's never shown the slightest interest in trying to get out and hides whenever the front door opens.

wow. that rose bush is a monster. a beautiful monster, mind you but... :) however did you get it to grow like that? i've always wanted roses but am afraid to try my hand at them.

glad your bella is feeling a little better.

When my grandmother was alive, she indicated a wish to reove one rosebush. It was grown so out of proportion. I didn't remove it myself (it was grown wholly wild), but I severely pruned it down, almost to the ground. The next year, it was back, not only with new shoots and stems, but gorgeously flowered.

She never did have it removed.

the rose bush took off after we killed that man when the aunts were away, and buried him under there. Now the rose bushes are out of control ;)

bwahahahaha! (love that movie. the book was pretty great too.)

I put the cutting in a pot for a couple of seasons until it started to get bigger, then planted it with the trellis. I don't think I did anything special, except kept it watered. The only fertilizer I use is the concentrated fish one that comes in a bottle. It probably helps that it's a Texas-variety rose.

gotcha. makes sense. i think i'm going to give that a stab. ;)

I love the rosebush ;o)

I will never understand cats. Not likely ;o)

Thanks! I think our unusually cold winter helped the roses this year. They were the only plants that came back strong after it.

We had several that came back strong...and several that died away. Kind of a break even...

Aw, kitties! Kitties in tents! Go your voice of the exorcist.

The tent has been almost continuously occupied since a friend gave it to us. :)

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Yes, and they like to assign blame, too. It's not based on anything remotely resembling logic, but it gets assigned.

Thanks!

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