Out Here in the Meow, I Work For My Chow

It’s a delightful evening tonight, so says this Hippo-bear. I can hardly pull myself away from the beauty of sitting along this window and keeping watch for the skunk that has been roaming around outside. I’ve been told that there is a cartoon skunk known for being romantically inclined towards kitties, which is obviously ridiculous. The few experiences I have had with the skunky suggests that it is interested primarily in garbage. Perhaps interested only in garbage, though the items on the back porch do not really allow it to express a diversity of interests.

I was helping Baxter work on his dissertation this afternoon and purring up a storm when I realized that I could play a fantastically interesting game called “knock toys down the stairs.” At this point I have only successfully been able to do this with small catnip flavored mousies and the like, but I have big plans to roll my two story cat condo down the stairs and ride it log-rolling style.

Its weird, I had my birthday a little over a week ago, but I don’t feel especially different. I am, however officially a teenaged meowcat. I was not the Dana fan that Baxter is, but her version of “Baba O’Reilly” inspired the recent love that I have developed for The Who. I was thinking of forming a Persian kitty cover band called The Mew, but as of yet, I have spent my time playing with new toys and getting the most out of the cat days of summer.

Nonetheless, I would be pretty pawesome as a rock and roll kitty. A couple of photos should illustrate this adequately.

In the first, we see that I have the face to be on the cover of our first album, Rolling Stone, Cat Fancy, whatever.


Additionally, I am a rebel. Even though Baxter constantly reminds me that we do not play with electrical cords, I do it when he is not looking. Maybe, when Katie is looking, or when someone is looking just enough to take a picture of me and then giggle as I leap up the stairs.



Occasionally I party really hard and enjoy a bit too much catnip and I pass out right in my toy basket. Its not the bathtub or a hotel hallway, but I have freaking standards. Not to mention the nip always gives me enough of a boost to get somewhere that is at least blanket lined.



I am not a big Orgy fan or anything, but if The Mew needed to tap into the Hot Topic crowd, I think I could probably go goth for a while. I mean, I’m not gonna invest in a case of kitten eyeliner or anything, but a hint of vamp here and there can bring in the whole spikey bracelet crowd.



Finally, it doesn’t hurt anything that I can belt it out when necessary. I’m not a loud kitty, but I have the pipes for some purrific notes when I need it. GOOD NIGHT MINNEAPOLIS!! WE LOVE YOU!!



Hippo Out!

Go Hippo, It's Your Birthday, We're Going to Meow-Purr like it's Your Birthday!

I apologize for the lame birthday song reference, but it was all this pretty kitty could come up with to announce that I am, in fact, 2 years old! Despite the fact that my MySpace profile says otherwise, Saturday I turned 2 (or 14 in kitty years)! Katie and Baxter brought me some lovely presents, and I had a purr-tastic evening watching Animal Planet and gorging on Cat Chow. I don't really like any kitty food besides my be-meow-ed Purina Cat Chow, but toys are always appreciated around here. And I took in quite a haul; in fact, I got so many purr-sents that I haven't even taken them all out of the packaging, because there was just too much to play with all at one time!

First, Katie and Baxter donated some money to the PetCo animal charities on my purr-half, so I am officially a fur-lanthropist, and this makes me immensely proud. (Before anyone gets too excited, though, this purr-ty kitty would like to note that the donation was 23 cents, because PetCo has an awesome idea where you can round up your purchase to the nearest dollar and donate the rest. This is a meow-tacular idea, and all merchants should purr-ticipate, because all monetary transactions should be done in whole dollar amounts any-meows, so donation = purr-fect solution!)

Second, they got me a new stick with feather toy! I love sticks with feathers! And this one has a bell, so it is extra super fur-tacular. Here is the close-up of my toy:


And here is how much I love it!


I also got an awesome new catnip toy, because I LOVE the catnip. It is a cute fishy that rolls around on the floor with catnip inside, and although I haven't totally mastered the art of playing with this toy, it fur-scinates me.


I mean, I was totally into the whole toy thing, but the orange fishy is going to be my fur-vorite toy soon, I can just meow it.


My final toy set is these catnip mousies, which I haven't even opened because my other toys were so totally awesome. But primary colors are the new pastels, so I can only imagine the fun in store for meow.


The reason I didn't get to play with them is because I totally got distracted by this rubber band, which was not a birthday present but was thoroughly a-meow-sing to all parties involved:


Finally, Katie and I took my official 2nd birthday portrait, which I hope that you will enjoy as much as I did. Because I am beautiful.

Thanks for Making Me A Biter!

Meow! I know that it has been millions of feline-years since this pretty kitty has updated, but my audience will forgive me for a few lovely photographs, purr? Pretty purr?

Moving has really taken a lot out of the Hippo. There have been stairs to explore, the occasional spider to eat, and a whole new set of windows to look out of at all new animals in the yard. It has tired me out.

In addition, there has been the addition of new fur-niture to my purr-tastic abode, so I have had to sit on it, and occasionally claw it, just to test out my clawing abilities. Don't worry, Katie and Baxter, I won't scratch up the new couch like the last one! Meow! Luckily, my favorite part of the new couch is its meow-rific nap accomodations.

There has also been an abundance of play-time here at the Hippo Castle. See how great the couch is as a springboard?

Un-fur-tunately, sometimes my toys get away from here. The couch works as a jungle-gym in that situation, letting me work as the jungle cat that I am!
This week looks to be a busy one: I still haven't sent out my housewarming notes as I had intended; I shall have to meow up a picture that is formal enough to send, no pussy-footing around it. Katie and I had purred about taking one outside with the two of us, but my artistic kitten ways have some other ideas. I won't tell you them now, but if I know you, you may be getting such a letter soon!

I will leave you with one precious photograph of my kitten-likeness, taken by Baxter while Katie was at the World Debate Institute, which I like because it keeps me in kitten chow but keeps Katie far away where I cannot sit in her lap at all hours of the day.

~meow~

Editors Meow:

As a result of my un-purr-tunate laziness, I have decided that order needs to be installed at this meow-tastic online space. After all, how can I purr-fect my HTML skills if I never update? How will Persian kitties of the world become more active or well-recognized? How will I continue to fight for reproductive freedom and an end to rampant Persian kitty discrimination? So order it is. For now, I will be updating this fur-ociously entertaining blog every Monday, just like today. I will still send out Notify list posts, but thought everyone might like a meow's-up on the happenings around here at Adventures in Hippo Land.

P.S. (Purr Script): I am actually a lover, not a biter, but mad props to Christina Aguilera! Meow Meow Purr!

Purrs and Smooches,
Hippo

I told you what April Showers Would Bring, Didn't I?

Hippo Flowers!

Well, technically, the flowers were Katie's, given to her by Baxter for their monthiversary, but since all things in the house are really mine, it works out. Unfortunately, she wouldn't let me eat either the flowers OR Horace, so I had to make due with a sniff here and there and a little bite when she wasn't looking. Baxter will let me do anything I want, so I wait until he comes in and then steal a small nibble.

Baxter and I have been practicing for my upcoming senior photos, and I thought this was a charitable first attempt. Note how purr-tastic I am at crossing my paws at the wrist.

Since Katie and Baxter (mostly Katie) have started packing up the house into the little boxes that will take us to place where I have to pay pet rent, I have had a variety of super meow-tacular places to law about in the house. As usual, the bench is my favorite. Es-purr-cially because my paws fit so nicely through the slats.
In other news, I think I have finally found a paying gig to make my pet deposit this week. Previously, I didn't feel comfortable offering my sage advice, but a few more pages of reading and desperate times mean I've finally gotten a job. My job title, you ask? Purr-ific Meow-ademic Consultant.
My specialty, of course, is Derrida, since that's what I've spent the most time reading/napping upon (obviously learning by os-meow-sis), but I"ll be doing consulting works on all the major works in Baxter's dissertation. It's only a summer job, but it'll pay the bills for now. Thanks for all the emails of support for my predi-cat-ment.

This Pretty Kitty Needs A Job

As a beautiful persian cat, it has never occurred to me that I would ever need to move beyond naps, Animal planet, and a-purr-able playing with catnip toys in order to support myself in this cruel world. Of course the world wants to sit and admire my beautiful paws! My life is intended for leisure and decoration, not the toil and struggle of the working class! I am so bitter that my capitalist leanings have betrayed me; all these years, I thought the proletariat was underrated. Now I know, I should have known that Paris on Gilmore Girls was right when she said:

PARIS: Hey, boss. It's interesting, you know. Karl Marx has come alive for me today. I never understood what he was yammering about before, and now it just seems so obviously wrong that those who control capital should make their fortunes off the labour of the working class . . . I bet they all have money, too. Every one of those commodity fetishists.

Meow, you ask? Meow so bitter?

Well, as you may have heard, Katie and Baxter are moving to Rochester this summer in order to provide a better life for this here Hippo. They are looking at several apartments, some townhouses, and a few floors of houses. And at almost every turn, they are confronted with the need for pet rent.

Pet Rent! How ridiculous! I have never used $20 of services in any apartment I have yet occupied, and I would think that sheer cuteness would be giving back more than that amount to the world at large. My fluffy fur and precious face are an asset to whatever residence I occupy, and I resent any implication otherwise.

However, I feel it unfair for my beloved owners to take all the responsibility onto themselves. To that end, I have been furiously pushing loose change under the edge of the bed to create a stash for my July rent, but lord only knows what I will do if they make me pay my own security deposit! (Honestly, I think that bravado and good looks will get me through that one; after all, Katie gets an anniversary present every month, so I figure I'm due a few back presents to make up for lost past gifts). But now, only input will save me -- how shall I get a job?

These are the occupations for which I think I have the requisite skills.

I would make an excellent Nielsen Kitty, since I find television to be cat-tastic.

I could be a purr-sonal grocery shopper - I have learned excellent shopping skills from my family.

I could definitely be a purr-sonal meow-sistant, since I heart the computer, although after awhile, keyboards do cause me to need a catnap.

My only other idea is to let people take ridiculous photos for money, since, unfortunately, such photographs pop up now and again and I might as well be making a little rent money for them.

Luckily I still have the gift certificate I got for Christmas from Baxter's Dad and Erin to Petco to help take care of my expenses -- Maybe that will count for the first month?

Here Comes Hippo Cottontail . .

Meowin' down the kitten trail,

Hippo-ty, Hoppity,

Hippo-ty, Hoppity,

Easter's on its way.



Bringin' every girl and boy

Baskets full of Easter joy,

Things to make your Easter bright and gay.



He's got jelly beans for Baxter,

Colored eggs for sister Kate,

There's an orchid for your Mommy

And an Easter bonnet, mate.


Oh! here comes Hippo Cottontail,

Meowin' down the kitten trail,

Hippo-ty hoppity, Hippo-ty, Hoppity

Happy Easter day.

Nap Time is the Best Time for Kitties

I am not sure if I have meow-ntioned adequately how absolutely purr-tastic it is to have friends home all the time. Since Katie and Baxter re-purr-ed home from their last debate tournament (an activity, by the way, that I am purr-sitive I would be meow-tastic at, since I meow loudly and insistently, which I could use to get the judges to always vote for this pretty kitty), we have played and cleaned and played some more. They have this nasty habit of taking way too many purr-tographs, but I use that to my advantage by showing my beautiful fur off for all to see on this here website.

(However, we have not taken Easter photographs as of yet so I am reserving judgement on the soundness of allowing so many photographs to be taken of my precious puss.)

Having the house clean means that there are so many more places for me to nap, not to mention observe the action. For example, there is the back of the couch:


Baxter's Laptop (which I also adore because we are super-kitty-fans of the Green Bay Packers):


Not to mention the lovely coffee table, which is es-purr-cially clean and I just purringly adore:


But honestly? The best part is that I can sleep comfortably on the top of the world, right by the air conditioner, by Eeyore and outside birdies.

April Showers Bring Hippo Flowers

I am attempting to purr a Hippo-resolution that I update my blog more often. I don't have much of an excuse, except that Baxter and Katie have left me for long periods of time without an internet connection, and my paws begin to hurt when I have to purr-ance to the library in order to check my Hippo-email. And by the time that I pad all the way over there, give the lovely librarian my cat id, and then get my email checked and blogs read, I am simply too tired to update this blog. But I feel like my creative kitty energy is being sapped without the outlet that is this magical online forum, so I will strive to update more often.

Katie and I began cleaning the apartment yesterday. Her blog makes it sound like I am mildly Obsessive Cat-pulsive, when in fact I just prefer to have as much space to lay and purr as possible. How would you see how cute I am next to the sewing if there were piles of junk to impede my purr? (Please excuse my yellow eyes - this pretty kitty has not mastered Photoshop just yet.) I am pleased to re-purr-t, however, that my fur is looking luscious and cared for, and Katie and I have spent many a day just meowing around and noting my beautiful coat.

Did I mention that it is spring time in Lock-purr-t? It still seems cold out, at least from my vantage point at the window, but Horace and I have been enjoying the sunshine and tanning in the windows. (Horace and I, we used to have a slightly antagonistic relationship in that I preferred to have him as a snack than a sibling, but we have since worked out our differences and lay together, chatting about the weather and sitting with the carebears on the windowsill.)


I try not to watch television purr-grams that Baxter and Katie enjoy while they are out of town, since then I have to watch them again when they get home and my short kitten attention span is displeased with that arrangement. I will meow-mit, however, that I oc-cat-sionally watch a program when the TiVo is running out of space, since I know it will be deleted anyways and I just can't bear to miss my favorite purr-grams. Last night we watched Las Vegas, which I do enjoy, though not as much as American Idol (did I mention how purr-terbed I was that Mandisa was eliminated?!? Is there NO JUSTICE in this world? I mean, I know she's a little bit too religious and meow-viously, we disagree on the subject of GLBT rights, but wow could she sing).

This pretty kitty must be leaving now, since Katie's lap has appeared and I am in the mood for a good tummy rub. This tummy is always available for rubbing.


Purrs and Smooches,
Hippo

Floor Cat

So I mentioned earlier how much I had liked hanging out on the highest place that I could get to, which was fun for awhile. But now that Katie and Baxter are back from their incredible sojourn up and down the east coast, I have become a floor cat. I like the clean carpet so much that I lay there as much as possible to take in the carpety goodness. I just hope that Katie and Baxter get the message eventually that in order to keep my lifestyle up to par, the floor must be vacuumed every other day, but only in rooms that I am currently not occupying, since I do not like the noise associated with said vacuuming.

See how lovely the carpet looks? Not to mention my beautiful face. I like to take up as much of the carpet as possible to let it know that this pretty kitty in charge.

And if you thought to yourself, I am not totally sure that this beautiful example of cat-hood is really persian, this smoochy Hippo would like to correct your incorrect assumption while also demonstrating the loveliness of the carpet around me.



~~~~~
Has everyone else been watching American Idol? Of course I like Kat-harine McPhee, since she carries on the brilliance of the feline persuasion. Taylor Hicks is almost as good a dancer as I am, and kitties everywhere aspire to have so much rhythm. But Simon is totally my favorite, since his grumpiness is much like mine and we have similar opinions on performances.

Our Grumpy looks even match! But sometimes, I can't even bear to make such a purr-fect smoochy face, because I am so enamored of the show that I can't turn away.

Even if that dude did totally suck.

~~~~~
In other news, I have been taking anthistamines for this rash I seem to have developed, which is purr-fectly fine since I cat-viously dislike the itching, but I am just meow-rageously against the ridiculousness that is how I get said medicine. I leave you with photo example number one of the Hippo Burrito, in hopes that you will rescue me from such future indignities.