Yes, Mojo has not been blogging much lately, mostly 'cuz she's busy doing More Important Things, but also because she's had some of the air let out of her tires (or wind out of her sails, or whatever other form of windiness you might ascribe to her) with the recent demise of Ratty Cat, our big ol' stray Coon cat bruiser. Which actually happened some time ago, but we know how long it takes for things to sink in to Mojo's big ol' fat head sometimes.

Despite his formidable size, Ratty was one of the kindest and gentlest cats I've ever known, who never once laid a claw on me, nor my Favorite Husband, nor small children, nor the dog, even when the hyper beast maybe deserved it. In fact Ratty loved dogs, inexplicably so, as evidenced by the pictures below of him meeting Rosie for the first time.

Ratty came to us as a full-grown adult and we have no idea where he came from or how old he was. Searching the blog for pictures I found more than forty entries referring to him, usually complaining about how yowly he was. So it just sorta figures that THAT is what we are currently missing most around the house. The silence is deafening.

Does the superiority of all things feline go without saying? Still I should say it. Publicly. And try to ignore the razor-sharp claws at my neck as I type.

Yes, it's about Ratty again, here on the left starring in his very own lolcat. As much as Mojo desperately wishes this blog does NOT turn into one of those "Mister Fluffy is SOOOoooo cute!" sort of fiascos, there is something about emotionally needy and/or traumatized animals dealing with the temporary loss of a household member (as of course you know, my Favorite Husband is away for the week, dodging drug cartels down in Mexico--although I talked to him last night and he says the situation where he is is actually BETTER than it was when he was there three years ago. Back then the day he showed up Unfriendly People had just bombed a newspaper office and authorities were driving around with machine gun turrets on their cars. The locals tell him it was much worse then but for some reason back then it didn't make the news like it's making the news in Juarez today. Anyway, the Favorite Husband reports that it's actually pretty laid back so he went shopping and bopping about and it's all totally cool) ....

...where was I? Oh, yes, the stupid cat.  MORE Mojo! »

Before Mojo got distracted by something shiny, she was going to mention something that, now in retrospect, is even more boring than usual.

As I have said many times previously, Ratty Cat is not allowed in the bedroom at night, because he comes and goes two or three times a night and each time he announces his arrival and departure with his yowling. The decision to banish him is entirely that of my Favorite Husband. Far be it for Mojo to punish a fellow complainer. Whenever *I* hear the stupid cat, being the tolerant, saint-like person that I am, I just roll over and go back to sleep. For me, I have accepted the simple fact that Ratty is a yowly cat, and that's the end of it.

Not the Favorite Husband, however.  MORE Mojo! »

So we had some spring thunderstorms yesterday. Nothing much to speak of. Only one or two close lightning strikes, the rest just lots of rumbling and lots of rain.  MORE Mojo! »

For those who might suspect that Mojo is the sort of person who dearly loves to dish out complaints without ever tolerating receiving any in return, I offer up this anecdote which happened Sunday morning:

While many people look upon Sunday morning as a time of quiet reflection, a day off when one may rise late and spend an hour or two just waking up, Mojo spent her Sunday morning participating in a wild rodeo-type atmosphere chasing a very angry and determined chipmunk around the house. Courtesy of the cat, who enjoys bringing them into the house totally unharmed and setting them free to appreciate the decor.  MORE Mojo! »