Salty Thingamajigs.

Lois the FinNothing like spending an hour putting together healthy Greek chicken pizza for our dinner (using the supplies that I paid for myself) just so that Lois can complain that it’s “okay, but I don’t know why you had to dump so much salt on it…”

I explained to her that the kalamata olives are what makes it salty, but that I used them sparingly, and the pizza is actually very healthy.

Lois:  “You can explain that to the doctor after I’ve had my heart attack from all of this salt.”

Me:  “I can make you something else…”

Lois:  “No, no, I’ve lived long enough anyhow.  Have you fed Baby?”

Me: “Yes, I put food out on the patio for her.”

Lois:  “You didn’t put any of those thingamajigs in her food, did ya?”

Me:   “No, of course not.”

Lois:  “Are you sure? Because she’s too young for a heart attack.”

Me:  “Yes, I’m sure.  I just gave her soft food.”

Lois:  “You didn’t pour a bunch of salt all over it, did you?”

Me:  “Lois…why would I add salt to Baby’s cat food?”

Lois:  “I was just making sure.”

Me:   “There are no salty thingamajigs on Baby’s food.”

Lois:   “Maybe I should trade her then.”

Ugh.

Wolves.

Lois the FinLois wandered around the house for two hours tonight searching for her crazy cat that completely ignores her. Of course she was wearing nothing but her little pink t-shirt, a pair of saggy Depends and her favorite fuzzy boot slippers.I tried to suggest that she at least wear her bathrobe and her response was: “Do you want me to die of heat stroke or something?!” It was in the 80’s outside today so I could see her point.

I tried to reason with her about flashing the neighbors and her response was: “I ain’t showin’ em nothin they haven’t seen before!”

That is also true.

Two hours later…

Lois: “I can’t find Baby!”

Me: “I know Lois, I’m sorry. I’m sure she’ll turn up soon.”

Lois: “Well the wolves probably got her.”

Me: “I’m sure she’s fine.”

Lois: “Oh no, those wolves gobbled her up! Either that or the coyotes…”

Me: “I’m sure she’s out there somewhere. I saw her at lunchtime.”

Lois: “Did she eat?”

Me: “Yes, she ate some of her soft food.”

Lois: “Oh good! I’m glad Baby got one last, tasty meal before the wild animals ate her for a snack.”

Baby came in an hour later for dinner. She waited until Lois stopped calling for her and then she creeped in and ate her food.

I guess the wolves will have to prey on some other old lady’s cat tonight…

Frisky, the Sleepy Cat.

Lois the FinMy client, Lois, is very confused tonight. First she was calling me Caroline and then I was Caroline’s friend, and for about an hour she thought I was her sister, Thelma (who has been dead for more than a decade).

I tried to remind her who I really am, but it just wasn’t working so rather than confusing her more than she already was, I just went along with it.

Her questions had more to do with my (Caroline’s/Thelma’s) pet/pets than anything else.

Lois: “How is your cat doing, Caroline? You know, the one that sleeps all the time?”

Me: “Oh he’s doing great!”

Lois: “What was his name again?”

Me: “Um…(reading cat food bag)…Frisky.”

Lois laughed: “Frisky is a funny name for a cat who sleeps all the time.”

Me: “Yeah haha I guess you’re right.”

Lois: “How old is he now?”

Me: “Um…he’s around 10 or so?”

Lois laughed: “Oh no! He’s gotta be much older than that! I’m surprised that he’s even still alive! Are you sure he’s not dead?”

Me: “Well now that you mention it, he is sleeping even more than usual…I guess I’d better check to make sure he’s breathing when I get home.”

Lois: “Yeah you’d better check because pretty soon he’ll really start stinking up the place!”

Sweet Potatoes Part II.

c4966565240f8b946921653Lois is sweet enough to let me go to church on Sundays (I stay with her for 48 hours straight on Saturdays and Sundays) as long as I pick her up a cheeseburger and strawberry milkshake on my way home.  I ask her every week if she’d like to go to church with me, and her response usually goes something like this:

Lois:  “Do you know how exhausting it is for an old lady to get ready for church?  I’m too old, and God understands that.”

Usually she takes her morning nap while I’m gone and when I get back I wake her up for lunch.  When I got back from church this morning, however, Lois was waiting for me at the door…

Lois:  “There’s something wrong with Baby!”  (Baby is the most spoiled feral cat on the planet.  She lives in Lois’ basement and only comes up to eat, which is about 5,000 times a day, and Lois obsesses over her CONSTANTLY.)

Me:  “Why do you think there’s something wrong with Baby?”

Lois:  “She must be sick because she refuses to eat anything!”

Me:  “Well I fed her half of a can of wet food before I left for church this morning, so she can’t be too hungry.”

Lois:  “BABY IS STARVING!  SHE’S BEEN UP HERE MEOWING AND MEOWING AND MEOWING!”

Me:  “Okay, settle down, I will put some food out for her…”

Lois:  “I ALREADY PUT FOOD OUT FOR HER AND SHE REFUSES TO EAT ANY OF IT!”

By then I had managed to step into the house and I was able to see that there was a plate on the floor with mashed sweet potatoes on it.  I made my way into the kitchen, and all together I counted 6 plates of sweet potatoes that were set out for Baby.

Oh boy, here we go again…

I picked up the plates and set them on the counter.

Lois:  “Baby can’t get to her food if you put it up this high!”

Me:  “I think Baby just needs some fresh food, so I will open up a new can for her…”

Lois:  “I JUST OPENED UP A CAN!  DON’T BE WASTEFUL!!”

Me:  “Okay Lois, let me explain something…this is not cat food on these plates.”

Lois:  “OF COURSE IT’S CAT FOOD!”

Me:  “It is actually our leftovers from dinner last night.”

Lois:  “We had CAT FOOD for dinner last night?!”

Me:  (deep breath) “No, we did not have cat food.  We had baked chicken and mashed sweet potatoes, and what you put on these plates for Baby is the leftover sweet potatoes.”

Lois:  “Baby doesn’t like sweet potatoes.”

Me:  “I know she doesn’t.  Most cats don’t.  So how about you let me open up a fresh can of cat food for her, okay?”

Lois cracked up:  “Well NO WONDER she wouldn’t eat!”

Me:  “Yep.  No wonder.”

Lois:  “Who the HELL thought it was a good idea to make cat food out of sweet potatoes?!”

Me:  “You got me, Lois.”

Lois:  “Well by golly, that’s about the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard of!  Since when does a CAT enjoy eating POTATOES?”

Me:  “I really don’t have an answer to that…”

Lois:  “What brand is that cat food anyway?”

Me:  “It’s ‘Fancy Feast’.”

Lois:  “Fancy Feast MY ASS!  What’s fancy about a sweet potato?”

Me:  “There is absolutely nothing fancy about a sweet potato.”

Lois:  “DARN RIGHT!  Potatoes are the poor man’s food.  Well, I guess I’d better call Baby upstairs for lunch…BABY?  BABY?  BAYYYYY-BEEEEEEEEE!”

Nobody Feeds Baby a Sweet Potato.

Sweet Potatoes.

813500677Lois (hollers from the kitchen):  “What the HELL is this?!”

I quickly made my way toward the direction of her voice.  Me:  “Oh, that’s the leftover sweet potatoes from dinner.”

Lois:  “What the HELL are sweet potatoes doing in the cat food?”

I was confused:  “Um…there shouldn’t be sweet potatoes in the cat food…are you trying to feed the cat?  I will open a fresh can of food for you.”

Lois:  “I don’t NEED a new can!  I want to use the rest of THIS can!”

Me:  “But Lois, that isn’t cat food.  Those are sweet potatoes.”

Lois:  “WHO PUT SWEET POTATOES IN THE CAT FOOD!!”

Me:  “Okay Lois, just calm down and let me explain this to you.”

Lois was panting at this point because she’d gotten herself so worked up.

Me:  “The container that you are holding right now is NOT cat food.”

Lois:  “BUT..!”

Me:  “I am holding the cat food in my hand right now and I am about to put some of it on the dish for Baby…”

Lois:  “BABY DOESN’T LIKE SWEET POTATOES!”

Me:  “I’m not giving her sweet potatoes, Lois.  I’m giving her the salmon flavored kind.”

Lois:  “Salmon flavored SWEET POTATOES?!”

Me:  “No.  Salmon flavored cat food.”

Lois:  “Why are there potatoes with salmon?!  Everyone knows that you should serve salmon with RICE!”

I took a deep breath, realizing that there was no winning this debate.

Me:  “How about some milk?  Does Baby like milk?”

Lois:  “Yes, but only if it’s warm.”

(internal eye-roll)

Me:  “Okay, I will warm up some milk for Baby.”

Lois grumbled.

Me:  “What was that you said, Lois?”

Lois:  “I said ‘just don’t mix any SWEET POTATOES in with the milk’…”

I just pretended like I didn’t hear that statement.

Lois grumbled again:  “I just don’t know who thought it would be a good idea to put any kind of potatoes in cat food; sweet potatoes or otherwise!”

Me:  “THERE WERE NEVER ANY FREAKING SWEET POTATOES IN THE FREAKING CAT FOOD FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!!”

Don’t worry, I said that last statement internally.