<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055328040838517532</id><updated>2011-04-21T15:57:40.430-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Monkee Tales</title><subtitle type='html'>The story about a kitty who is too smart for his own good.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Monkee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10969754224267415427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>32</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055328040838517532.post-5733862965177332452</id><published>2009-01-08T09:42:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T09:44:07.525-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Where I've Been</title><content type='html'>No I haven't disappeared.  Mom's just been really busy with school and stuff and she has been working on the &lt;a href="http://flockofuzzies.blogspot.com/"&gt;Flock O' Fuzzies&lt;/a&gt; blog instead.  I plan on being a regular contributor over there so come on over.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7055328040838517532-5733862965177332452?l=monkeetales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/feeds/5733862965177332452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7055328040838517532&amp;postID=5733862965177332452' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/5733862965177332452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/5733862965177332452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/2009/01/where-ive-been.html' title='Where I&apos;ve Been'/><author><name>Monkee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10969754224267415427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055328040838517532.post-8848319238637615349</id><published>2008-03-16T18:29:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-16T18:32:33.902-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Easy Sunday</title><content type='html'>I apologize for not writing this week.  Mom has been freaking out a lot.  Between her Pain and Torture, midterm grading, and trying to find a more permanent hunting jobbie, she has been forgetting a lot of things.  Specifically, leaving the computer on so I can catch up on my writing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, one of the nice benefits of Mom being so stressed out is that she tends to leave clothes piles on the big box in the corner of the room.  That becomes the perfect little sleepy spot for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's my Easy Like Sunday Morning photo:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee031608.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee031608.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7055328040838517532-8848319238637615349?l=monkeetales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/feeds/8848319238637615349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7055328040838517532&amp;postID=8848319238637615349' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/8848319238637615349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/8848319238637615349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/2008/03/another-easy-sunday.html' title='Another Easy Sunday'/><author><name>Monkee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10969754224267415427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055328040838517532.post-1021950625015346407</id><published>2008-03-09T00:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-08T23:27:46.355-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Easy Like Sunday Morning</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee030708.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee030708.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7055328040838517532-1021950625015346407?l=monkeetales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/feeds/1021950625015346407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7055328040838517532&amp;postID=1021950625015346407' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/1021950625015346407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/1021950625015346407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/2008/03/easy-like-sunday-morning.html' title='Easy Like Sunday Morning'/><author><name>Monkee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10969754224267415427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055328040838517532.post-3999235369699727320</id><published>2008-03-07T10:31:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-07T10:39:59.677-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Grading Help</title><content type='html'>It's that time of the semester for Mom: mid-semester grading hell. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now we all know that teachers can lose their minds while grading, right?  So, it is my duty as a kitty to keep that from happening.  What does this mean?  Knocking the papers off her desk, stealing her pens to play with, and sitting on anything she is grading.  She may complain about it when I do it but we all know she really loves it 'cause it breaks the tedium of grading.  And I am saving her sanity in the process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I found out she will spend this weekend grading, I got ready.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom decided to "go green" this year as a new years resolution.  So this semester all her students did their papers electronically.  This means no papers and no "red pens o' death."  How shall I keep her from losing her mind?  The computer is too big for me to knock off the desk (and anyways I think Mom would strangle me if I did).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know: I shall steal her mouse!  It's cordless too!  And I'll walk all over her keyboard!  As yes.  Those shall work.  Off to do my duty as a loyal kitty.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7055328040838517532-3999235369699727320?l=monkeetales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/feeds/3999235369699727320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7055328040838517532&amp;postID=3999235369699727320' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/3999235369699727320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/3999235369699727320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/2008/03/grading-help.html' title='Grading Help'/><author><name>Monkee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10969754224267415427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055328040838517532.post-3507116084210874612</id><published>2008-03-03T13:15:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T13:25:17.445-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Poop On You!</title><content type='html'>Every time the Mom and Dad get Domino's it means the Great Chicken Hunt for me.  Dad always gets the chicken wings and no matter how hard he tries, he can't keep chicken away from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night was pizza night.  You know what that means, right?  Nom, nom, nom for the Monkee.  So I go to steal some wings and manage to get a nice chunky piece o' chicken.  When I bite into it, yeeeeooooow!  Dad ordered the hot wings.  Bah.  It took me fifteen minutes to get the burn out of my mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Dad, this is for you:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://icanhascheezburger.com/2008/02/26/funny-pictures-i-farts-in-yor-genral-direkshun/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://icanhascheezburger.wordpress.com/files/2008/02/funny-pictures-farting-kitten.jpg" style="word-spacing: 530025px; font-size: 530025px;" alt="Humorous Pictures" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7055328040838517532-3507116084210874612?l=monkeetales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/feeds/3507116084210874612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7055328040838517532&amp;postID=3507116084210874612' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/3507116084210874612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/3507116084210874612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/2008/03/poop-on-you.html' title='Poop On You!'/><author><name>Monkee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10969754224267415427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055328040838517532.post-3739998849514407431</id><published>2008-03-02T13:45:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-02T13:45:33.153-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Me up to no good?  Never.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee030208.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee030208.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7055328040838517532-3739998849514407431?l=monkeetales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/feeds/3739998849514407431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7055328040838517532&amp;postID=3739998849514407431' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/3739998849514407431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/3739998849514407431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/2008/03/me-up-to-no-good-never.html' title='Me up to no good?  Never.'/><author><name>Monkee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10969754224267415427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055328040838517532.post-7123840083911961350</id><published>2008-02-26T11:44:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-26T11:53:22.793-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This may be The Problem</title><content type='html'>I think I know what The Problem is with Mom.  Ya know, the reason why she has been so grumpy lately (and why she's been so mean with the Stinky Goodness).  It's her J-O-B.  It's evil I tell ya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad works from home.  He's on the phone all day long but he can give us pets and attention all day long.  To me, that is the ideal job for a human. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom, on the other hand, drives really far away and goes to teach history to a bunch of brats.  Then when she's home, she's working on what to teach the brats next and grade all their horrible writing (I know it's horrible 'cause I hear her constantly complaining about it).  She says she really loves her job but it keeps her away from us and we definitely don't get enough attention from her.   Personally I think she should quit her job and become a stay-at-home mom.  That way she could devote every waking hour to us...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...wait.  What?  You wouldn't be able to give us Stinky Goodness if you quit your job?  Uh.  I'm not getting any now as it is!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7055328040838517532-7123840083911961350?l=monkeetales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/feeds/7123840083911961350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7055328040838517532&amp;postID=7123840083911961350' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/7123840083911961350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/7123840083911961350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/2008/02/this-may-be-problem.html' title='This may be The Problem'/><author><name>Monkee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10969754224267415427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055328040838517532.post-3383454514715297825</id><published>2008-02-23T23:58:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-24T00:06:15.515-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Definitely Not Fair</title><content type='html'>After I made the last post, Mom said that she'll start giving out Stinky Goodness.  And was there much rejoicing?  Actually, no.  Mom said she's only giving it to Boo and Kukai (aka "The Annoying One").  Supposedly Boo has lost weight so she's trying to fatten him up and Kukai is too pathetic to turn down I guess.  What about the rest of us?  Mom said that we can finish up what the two of them don't eat.  Like they aren't going to eat it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I started thinking.  Mom is pretty slow in her reaction time, right?  So I just have to wait until the right moment to jump up on the counter and grab some of that Stinky Goodness when she isn't looking.  Sounds good, right?  Grrr.  I guess she isn't as clueless as I thought 'cause now she's locking me in the bathroom when she feeds Boo and Kukai!  Can you believe that?!!!  What's worse is that when those two are done, she puts down the bowl for the other kitties to get at and then takes her sweet time to let me out of the bathroom.  By the time I run to the kitchen there is no Stinky Goodness left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you believe this?  It's not fair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the very least, she's at least letting me sleep under the covers with her at night. It's bad enough I don't get the Stinky Goodness, but at least I can keep warm.  Being hungry and cold would require drastic action on my part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And no, I cannot poop on Mom's pillow.  She will know it was me and has threatened to shave me if I tried it.  That is just so not right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7055328040838517532-3383454514715297825?l=monkeetales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/feeds/3383454514715297825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7055328040838517532&amp;postID=3383454514715297825' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/3383454514715297825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/3383454514715297825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/2008/02/definitely-not-fair.html' title='Definitely Not Fair'/><author><name>Monkee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10969754224267415427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055328040838517532.post-3953859078255025450</id><published>2008-02-20T19:51:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T21:13:08.071-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuzzies Under Seige: Day 40</title><content type='html'>It's been forty days without Stinky Goodness.  I haven't had any Stinky Goodness for forty days.  If that isn't cruel and unusual punishment, I don't know what it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom says that there's a reason for it.  At first it was because she was laid up in bed and Dad couldn't tolerate the smell of Stinky Goodness.  But since she's been up and around, she now says it's a good thing that she has "weaned" us off of it 'cause it was getting too expensive.  Too expensive?!!!  Is our love and devotion not worth the cost of a few measly cans of Stinky Goodness?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am thinking of organizing a protest.  Originally I was thinking of a walk-out but it's too damn cold outside.  Can anybody think of a good way of protesting this sort of abuse?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7055328040838517532-3953859078255025450?l=monkeetales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/feeds/3953859078255025450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7055328040838517532&amp;postID=3953859078255025450' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/3953859078255025450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/3953859078255025450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/2008/02/fuzzies-under-seige-day-40.html' title='Fuzzies Under Seige: Day 40'/><author><name>Monkee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10969754224267415427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055328040838517532.post-2962852987981252059</id><published>2008-02-16T02:07:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-16T02:09:57.553-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I smelled it</title><content type='html'>Oh yes I did.  They thought that by going outside on a cold night and distracting us the moment they got home that we wouldn't figure out what they were doing.  It would have worked too except I got suspicious and got near enough to them to smell their breath.  Ah ha!  They went out and had sushi for dinner!  What's worse?  They didn't bring any home to share with us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must quickly begin plotting my revenge.  They will learn to never come home from sushi empty handed again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7055328040838517532-2962852987981252059?l=monkeetales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/feeds/2962852987981252059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7055328040838517532&amp;postID=2962852987981252059' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/2962852987981252059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/2962852987981252059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-smelled-it.html' title='I smelled it'/><author><name>Monkee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10969754224267415427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055328040838517532.post-1722767678610898138</id><published>2008-02-13T22:57:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-13T22:59:41.594-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mom's got the flu</title><content type='html'>She has been home sick for the past four days, feeling really miserable.  She says she knows for a fact that one of her students got her sick.  But there's nothing she can do about it now especially since she's out of sick days for the semester.  Poor mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So please, send some healing purrs and headbutts mom's way.  She's also getting her cast off tomorrow so she can use all the help she can get.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7055328040838517532-1722767678610898138?l=monkeetales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/feeds/1722767678610898138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7055328040838517532&amp;postID=1722767678610898138' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/1722767678610898138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/1722767678610898138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/2008/02/moms-got-flu.html' title='Mom&apos;s got the flu'/><author><name>Monkee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10969754224267415427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055328040838517532.post-5066394529278044756</id><published>2008-02-08T17:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-08T17:23:14.404-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Master Plan</title><content type='html'>So there I was, just chilling out in the kitchen sink.  We Maine Coons like to sit in sinks.  Don't know why.  We just do.  Anyways, it's been weeks since the entire sink was empty so I was going to take advantage of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom comes downstairs and sees me doing it.  She fawns over me and goes "how cute."  Typical sappy mom stuff, right?  But then she stops and looks at me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why do I get the feeling you're up to something?"  I just look at her innocently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh I know that look.  You &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;are&lt;/span&gt; up to something."  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Moi&lt;/span&gt;?  Never.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hmmm.  As long as your not building some kitty tunnel to smuggle in Stinky Goodness I guess I shouldn't worry."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me?  Build a tunnel?  Nev...wait?  Tunnel?  To bring in Stinky Goodness?  Hmmm.  I could create some kind of kitty black market where I can smuggle Stinky Goodness and catnip into the house.  Now why didn't I think of this before.  I must go work...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7055328040838517532-5066394529278044756?l=monkeetales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/feeds/5066394529278044756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7055328040838517532&amp;postID=5066394529278044756' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/5066394529278044756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/5066394529278044756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/2008/02/master-plan.html' title='The Master Plan'/><author><name>Monkee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10969754224267415427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055328040838517532.post-3189738649934724071</id><published>2008-02-06T16:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-06T16:52:21.208-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Not Ignoring My Blog...</title><content type='html'>...really.  Mom has been in rough shape.  She has been overdoing it with the teaching and walking in class (bad Mom!) so her foot has been hurting a LOT.  Since it is my duty to help Mom feel better, I've been busy giving her lots of purrs and headbutts.  I'm still mad at her for not giving me Stinky Goodness, but a boy does have to help out his mom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7055328040838517532-3189738649934724071?l=monkeetales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/feeds/3189738649934724071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7055328040838517532&amp;postID=3189738649934724071' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/3189738649934724071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/3189738649934724071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/2008/02/im-not-ignoring-my-blog.html' title='I&apos;m Not Ignoring My Blog...'/><author><name>Monkee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10969754224267415427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055328040838517532.post-4084826652532043317</id><published>2008-01-30T12:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-30T12:48:47.806-05:00</updated><title type='text'>OK...for now</title><content type='html'>Mom saw yesterday's post and she said she was sorry that she couldn't give me Stinky Goodness.  When she got home, she gave us BURGER!  Real wholesome moo cow meat!  She picked up burgers for her and Dad and made sure she got enough to share with us Fuzzies.  I got a whole quarter of a moo cow patty all to myself.  Whooohooo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sucky part?  I still didn't get Stinky Goodness this morning.  Getting Burger is great but I still need my protein goodness.  What happened?  Mom overslept and ran out the door again.  I turned to Dad but he still won't give it to us.  He says he's not a bad guy but wet kitty food seriously makes him nauseous.  Bah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7055328040838517532-4084826652532043317?l=monkeetales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/feeds/4084826652532043317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7055328040838517532&amp;postID=4084826652532043317' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/4084826652532043317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/4084826652532043317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/2008/01/okfor-now.html' title='OK...for now'/><author><name>Monkee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10969754224267415427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055328040838517532.post-6423397216470332203</id><published>2008-01-29T12:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-29T12:59:01.928-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Want Stinky Goodness</title><content type='html'>Mom is going back to work now which means she's getting back into her routine.  It's not her normal routine 'cause she's still in the cast but close enough.  She even started coming down into the kitchento make sure we have enough food and water  before she leaves for work .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what she hasn't done?  She hasn't given us Stinky Goodness.  It was bad enough when Dad was feeding us but we knew he wouldn't give us the good stuff.  Why?  'Cause he says the smell of it makes him want to throw up.  Bah.  But Mom?  Come on.  She is the ultimate Giver of Stinky Goodness.  It is part of her job title as "Mom."  She says it's because she has to act like a referee when she feeds us the wet food and that would require her standing around watching us.  With her foot the way it is, it would hurt too much.  Well what about us?  Do we not hurt when we cannot have our Stinky Goodness?  How are we supposed to get our yummy fish, chicken, and moo cow protein?  It's not like we can go out and hunt cows on our own. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We need our Stinky Goodness!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7055328040838517532-6423397216470332203?l=monkeetales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/feeds/6423397216470332203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7055328040838517532&amp;postID=6423397216470332203' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/6423397216470332203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/6423397216470332203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-want-stinky-goodness.html' title='I Want Stinky Goodness'/><author><name>Monkee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10969754224267415427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055328040838517532.post-5264400660847609330</id><published>2008-01-24T19:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-24T19:54:10.610-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What Do You Expect?</title><content type='html'>It was really cold last night.  I mean REALLY cold.  I tried snuggling under the covers with Mom but with that hard cast on her foot, that can really hurt if she kicks me by accident and she was pretty restless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My only other option was to grab the bedroom kitty bed.  This is a nice one. It's got a fleece cover so it's nice and toasty warm.  However, Fizzy and Kukai were hogging it up.  They had been up there for hours.  Since it didn't look like they were leaving any time soon, I decided to kick Fizzy out of the bed.  Fizzy doesn't need a warm bed.  She's fat enough that she can keep herself warm.  However, when I tried to move her she wouldn't budge.  I'm like "girl, you need to get out of the bed.  It's mine now."  She just turned around and thwaped me!  Well, I wasn't going to take that so I bit her tail.  It wasn't a hard bite, just a "hey don't hit me on the head" type of bite.  Dad didn't see it that way.  He yelled at us to "break it up" and the threw a stuffed animal at us.  Can you believe that?  All I was doing was trying to get warm! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe the next time I'll just poop on his pillow instead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7055328040838517532-5264400660847609330?l=monkeetales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/feeds/5264400660847609330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7055328040838517532&amp;postID=5264400660847609330' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/5264400660847609330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/5264400660847609330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/2008/01/what-do-you-expect.html' title='What Do You Expect?'/><author><name>Monkee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10969754224267415427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055328040838517532.post-7797209927815978052</id><published>2008-01-23T09:32:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-23T09:32:56.556-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wordless Wednesday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/2008/monkee012308.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/2008/monkee012308.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7055328040838517532-7797209927815978052?l=monkeetales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/feeds/7797209927815978052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7055328040838517532&amp;postID=7797209927815978052' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/7797209927815978052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/7797209927815978052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/2008/01/wordless-wednesday.html' title='Wordless Wednesday'/><author><name>Monkee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10969754224267415427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055328040838517532.post-6270849624211056344</id><published>2008-01-22T11:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-22T11:40:31.184-05:00</updated><title type='text'>That's What She Gets...</title><content type='html'>...for going in water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never understood why humans take water baths.  It's so...primitive.  Us cats have it easy.  We're our own portable washing machines.  You think that humans would have learned something from our effective bathing methods but noooooo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, Mom went to take a shower.  This hasn't been easy since they put the cast on her leg.  Now she has to wrap a garbage bag around her leg to cover the cast and then use duck tape to secure it.  Hehe.  Well, what she didn't know what that there was a hole in the bag and it got all full of water.  The entire cast got sopping wet.  It's a soft cast too so it's all squishy and sogging and it's driving Mom nuts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She called the doctor to find out what to do 'cause the cut where the doctor did the surgery got wet too and is really itching and burning.  Now she's got to go to the doctor today to get a new cast on.  She's all scared too 'cause she hasn't left the top floor of the house since she got home from the surgery.  She says crutches are evil and steps are even worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, she gets no sympathy from me.  If she just listened to me and licked herself clean, she wouldn't have gotten into this mess to begin with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Why do they call it duck tape?  It doesn't look like a duck.  Oh wait.  Mom is saying it's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;duct&lt;/span&gt; tape.  Bah.  Duck tape sounds better even if it doesn't have duckies on it.  Maybe it could be used to tie up duckies so we can have them for dinner?  Hey, she's the one that says it has 101 uses.  Maybe use 102 could be used to tie up duckies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7055328040838517532-6270849624211056344?l=monkeetales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/feeds/6270849624211056344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7055328040838517532&amp;postID=6270849624211056344' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/6270849624211056344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/6270849624211056344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/2008/01/thats-what-she-gets.html' title='That&apos;s What She Gets...'/><author><name>Monkee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10969754224267415427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055328040838517532.post-6889000958094706512</id><published>2008-01-20T21:28:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-20T21:29:22.956-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I can't believe it</title><content type='html'>The humans got sushi for dinner and didn't share.  They even locked the kitties out of the room so we couldn't get any scraps.  Now that's just rude.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7055328040838517532-6889000958094706512?l=monkeetales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/feeds/6889000958094706512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7055328040838517532&amp;postID=6889000958094706512' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/6889000958094706512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/6889000958094706512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-cant-believe-it.html' title='I can&apos;t believe it'/><author><name>Monkee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10969754224267415427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055328040838517532.post-8792865823230726292</id><published>2008-01-15T14:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-15T14:03:38.409-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tummy Tuesday</title><content type='html'>Since I will not degrade myself by allowing my belly to be photographed, I will post up one of my brother Loki.  He's a belly rub slut as Mom calls him.  He's big, foofy, and loves his belly to be rubbed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/2008/loki011508.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/2008/loki011508.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to let you know how big Loki is.  This is the full picture of him on the humans' queen sized bed.  He is longer than half the width of it.  Now why didn't I get some of that bulk?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/2008/fuzzies011508.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/2008/fuzzies011508.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7055328040838517532-8792865823230726292?l=monkeetales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/feeds/8792865823230726292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7055328040838517532&amp;postID=8792865823230726292' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/8792865823230726292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/8792865823230726292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/2008/01/tummy-tuesday.html' title='Tummy Tuesday'/><author><name>Monkee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10969754224267415427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055328040838517532.post-6807261978900329563</id><published>2008-01-15T01:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-15T01:34:50.343-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Keeping an eye on Mom...</title><content type='html'>Mom has been freaking out a little bit.  She says I'm staring at her while Dad thinks I'm glaring at her.  I am not staring or glaring.  They told me to keep an eye on Mom which is what I'm doing.  I'm watching her.  Isn't that what it means?  If they are going to freak out by me watching her, then they shouldn't tell me to do it, right?  Geeze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom is doing ok.  She got really sick on the antibiotics since they were causing her really bad headaches and nausea.  She's feelin better now that she is off of those.  However, she is still in a lot of pain.  She's taking this stuff called Vicodin which is making her kind of silly.  How making her silly is helping with the pain is beyond me, but she says it works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Humans are weird, aren't they?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7055328040838517532-6807261978900329563?l=monkeetales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/feeds/6807261978900329563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7055328040838517532&amp;postID=6807261978900329563' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/6807261978900329563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/6807261978900329563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/2008/01/keeping-eye-on-mom.html' title='Keeping an eye on Mom...'/><author><name>Monkee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10969754224267415427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055328040838517532.post-7864661129688228215</id><published>2008-01-12T10:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-12T10:46:26.824-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Update on Mom</title><content type='html'>Mom's surgery went well and she's home now.  She's in a lot of pain and is doped up pretty well on painkillers.  The human vet said that she'll have to stay in bed for a couple of days with her foot up.  I won't be writing much 'cause I'm guarding her and making sure the other kitties don't bother her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for all the good thoughts!  I'll keep you updated on how she is doing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7055328040838517532-7864661129688228215?l=monkeetales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/feeds/7864661129688228215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7055328040838517532&amp;postID=7864661129688228215' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/7864661129688228215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/7864661129688228215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/2008/01/update-on-mom.html' title='Update on Mom'/><author><name>Monkee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10969754224267415427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055328040838517532.post-8168578795415189430</id><published>2008-01-10T21:47:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T21:49:24.885-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mom's Surgery</title><content type='html'>I am asking all you kitties (and humans and woofies and other critters too) to send good thoughts and prayers to my mom.  She's having surgery on her foot tomorrow morning and she's getting really nervous about it.  The doctor told her it's a simple surgery but she doesn't like hospitals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll all have our paws crossed for her but any good vibes you can send would be greatly appreciated.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7055328040838517532-8168578795415189430?l=monkeetales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/feeds/8168578795415189430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7055328040838517532&amp;postID=8168578795415189430' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/8168578795415189430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/8168578795415189430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/2008/01/moms-surgery.html' title='Mom&apos;s Surgery'/><author><name>Monkee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10969754224267415427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055328040838517532.post-4752222226590934693</id><published>2008-01-10T08:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T08:34:47.983-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Seven Weird Things About Me</title><content type='html'>I'm probably the last kitty out there who hasn't done this meme.  I know a whole bunch of kitties who tagged me for this but the only one I can remember is &lt;a href="http://www.vincentandmike.com/wordpress/"&gt;Vincent and Mike&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rules: Link to the person that tagged you and post the rules on your blog. Share seven random weird facts about yourself. Tag seven random people at the end of your post, and include links to their blogs. Let each person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK so here goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sometimes I like to cuddle, and sometimes I don't.  Sometimes I change my mind in the middle of a cuddle session.  Who knows.  Maybe it's 'cause I get bored.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I will eat anything.  If I see the humans eating it.  I'll eat it.  Unfortunately, this led to my discovery of wasabi.  Why the heck would humans eat that horrendous stuff?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm tiny for a Maine Coon.  I only weigh about 10 pounds.  My twin brother Loki is close to 20 lbs, my older sibs Boo and Bailey weigh 15 and 18lbs respectively.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;No matter how much I eat, I don't gain any weight.  Mom says that it's because all the food that should be used for gaining weight is instead being transferred to my brain to give me energy for all the thinking I do.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm a little cross-eyed.  My mom noticed that when I was a little kitten and hoped that I would've grown out of it.  But instead she now finds that an "endearing trait" of mine.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My brother Loki was adopted first.  Mom lost her favorite kitty, Moose, and wanted to get another Maine Coon. So she went to the same breeder she got Moose from and picked out Loki the day he was born.  She didn't get me until we were about 13 weeks old.  She had Loki for about a week and none of the other cats would have anything to do with him and she was afraid he would be lonely.  She went back to the breeder and adopted me.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I was the biggest troublemaker out of my entire litter.  I was the one who was the first out of the basket and the first to get into trouble.  The first time Mom saw me I had fallen into a basket of toys (I was six weeks old then) and couldn't get out.  She said she liked my style and that's why she adopted me to be Loki's companion.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;Well that's it for me.  If anybody out there hasn't been tagged yet, you are now officially tagged.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7055328040838517532-4752222226590934693?l=monkeetales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/feeds/4752222226590934693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7055328040838517532&amp;postID=4752222226590934693' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/4752222226590934693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/4752222226590934693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/2008/01/seven-weird-things-about-me.html' title='Seven Weird Things About Me'/><author><name>Monkee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10969754224267415427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055328040838517532.post-4487061904361455296</id><published>2008-01-08T09:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-08T09:06:09.529-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Two for Tuesday</title><content type='html'>My mom loves listening to her favorite classic rock station on Tuesdays 'cause they have a "Two for Tuesday" bit where instead of playing one song from a band, they play two back to back.  So in the spirit of things, here's my Two for Tuesday: me and Bailey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like to curl up with my older sister Bailey.  Mom thinks it's kind of surprising because Bailey is supposedly "anti-social."  I don't think so.  She says "it must be a gray Maine Coon thing."  I don't know.  I just find it very comforting to curl up with her, and she's very warm.  Can you figure out where I end and she begins?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/2008/monkeebailey010808a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/2008/monkeebailey010808a.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll give you a hint, I'm the smaller one in front!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/2008/monkeebailey010808b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/2008/monkeebailey010808b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7055328040838517532-4487061904361455296?l=monkeetales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/feeds/4487061904361455296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7055328040838517532&amp;postID=4487061904361455296' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/4487061904361455296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/4487061904361455296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/2008/01/two-for-tuesday.html' title='Two for Tuesday'/><author><name>Monkee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10969754224267415427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055328040838517532.post-1252486839562397211</id><published>2008-01-06T22:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-06T22:32:10.136-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ninja Kitty Attacks!</title><content type='html'>OK.  Dad ordered Domino's which means he ordered chicken with the pizza.  However he isn't eating it.  Maybe he is afraid that Ninja Kitty will attack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a couple of months ago and Dad got chicken.  It was the perfect opportunity for me to both drive Dad nuts and get chicken at the same time.  I donned my Ninja Kitty personality and planned my attack.  If I sat on top of the bookcase, he wouldn't know I was there.  Then I could jump down and snatch the chicken on the way down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It worked too.  I managed to grab a nice big chicken wing and he didn't even know it!  The only thing that gave me away was my stupid brother Loki.  He tried to take it from me but I wouldn't let him.  It took a lot of planning and guile on my part and here Loki was trying to take my loot.  Oh no, I wouldn't allow that!  So I growled at him saying "mine!"  That's when Dad heard me, came into the room, and discovered that I took his chicken.  Of course, he couldn't have that and took the chicken away from me.  Bah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time, I'm prepared.  I plan on locking Loki up in the bathroom the next time Dad has chicken.  Oh yes, the chicken will be mine with no interference from Loki.  Mine.  All mine.  Mwuahahaha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7055328040838517532-1252486839562397211?l=monkeetales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/feeds/1252486839562397211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7055328040838517532&amp;postID=1252486839562397211' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/1252486839562397211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/1252486839562397211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/2008/01/ninja-kitty-attacks.html' title='Ninja Kitty Attacks!'/><author><name>Monkee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10969754224267415427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055328040838517532.post-7650600816603999453</id><published>2008-01-04T10:23:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-04T10:25:47.852-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Formerly Feral Friday</title><content type='html'>While I came from a breeder, my little sis Dharma was a rescued kitten.  My mom got her from a local kitty shelter when Ayla passed away.  The shelter said she was 14 weeks old but the vet told her that she was six months old.  She is a little bit on the tiny side but don't let that fool you.  She has enough energy for six cats!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/2008/dharma010408.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/2008/dharma010408.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7055328040838517532-7650600816603999453?l=monkeetales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/feeds/7650600816603999453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7055328040838517532&amp;postID=7650600816603999453' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/7650600816603999453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/7650600816603999453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/2008/01/formerly-feral-friday.html' title='Formerly Feral Friday'/><author><name>Monkee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10969754224267415427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055328040838517532.post-6668896477116040361</id><published>2008-01-03T21:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-03T21:37:35.989-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cuddle Monkee?</title><content type='html'>Mom was shocked today when I wanted to curl up in her lap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But you don't normally like to cuddle Monkee," she says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I know but it's freaking cold in this house and you're very warm."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7055328040838517532-6668896477116040361?l=monkeetales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/feeds/6668896477116040361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7055328040838517532&amp;postID=6668896477116040361' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/6668896477116040361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/6668896477116040361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/2008/01/cuddle-monkee.html' title='Cuddle Monkee?'/><author><name>Monkee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10969754224267415427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055328040838517532.post-1172837163277206912</id><published>2008-01-01T19:05:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-01T19:06:01.897-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Years!</title><content type='html'>I just wanted to wish all you kitties and humans (and yes...dogs too) a very happy new years!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My resolutions?  Simple: annoy dad more and eat more chicken.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7055328040838517532-1172837163277206912?l=monkeetales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/feeds/1172837163277206912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7055328040838517532&amp;postID=1172837163277206912' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/1172837163277206912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/1172837163277206912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/2008/01/happy-new-years.html' title='Happy New Years!'/><author><name>Monkee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10969754224267415427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055328040838517532.post-5291979613656146388</id><published>2007-12-30T08:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-30T08:09:34.607-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Easy Like Sunday Morning</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee123007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee123007.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well there is one thing the humans do have right: taking it easy on Sunday mornings.  Here I am (in the back) with my older sis Fizzy.  I kind of had to squeeze my way into the bed 'cause she was hogging the whole thing up. Doesn't she understand that she is fat and therefore has insulation?  I'm skinny with no fat.  I need the warm bed more than she does.  Bah.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;P.S. Both mom and dad are feeling better in terms of sickies.  Mom's foot is still hurting really bad but she says she has "good medicine" to help take away the pain.  Thanks for all the good thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7055328040838517532-5291979613656146388?l=monkeetales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/feeds/5291979613656146388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7055328040838517532&amp;postID=5291979613656146388' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/5291979613656146388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/5291979613656146388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/2007/12/easy-like-sunday-morning.html' title='Easy Like Sunday Morning'/><author><name>Monkee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10969754224267415427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055328040838517532.post-6069890962206321416</id><published>2007-12-29T09:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-29T09:51:32.401-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Post-Christmas Sickies</title><content type='html'>I knew it was bound to happen but I didn't think dad would get sick too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, my mom is a teacher.  OK a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;professor&lt;/span&gt;.  Geeze, like it matters.  Anyhoo, at the end of the semester, she always gets sick.  It's like she can stay healthy while she's teaching but once it's all over, she crashes.  This year, both mom and dad got sick.  First it was dad, and then mom caught it.  They both think they caught it from grandma who came over on Christmas when she was sick.  The dad is mad 'cause he would've postponed everything had he knew she was sick.  He hates getting sick.  He turns into a grumpy old bear when he does, so I avoid him as much as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel sorry for my mom though.  She has a broken foot and she's in a lot of pain.  She won't have surgery to fix it until January 11th so it's bad enough she's in pain from that.  To be sick on top of it really sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry.  I've been a good kitty.  Well, I have been avoiding my dad (as I mentioned) but I've been keeping mom warm and comfy.  OK, so I'm more fur than flesh but at least I'm trying here.  I hope she gets better soon.  At the very least, she'll start giving us Stinky Goodness again.  What's worse, because it's a tummy cold that they have, they haven't been heating up all that turkey goodness that is in the fridge.  Damn.  If you won't give us one, you have to give us the other.  Too bad I don't have thumbs, then maybe I could figure out how to open the fridge door.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7055328040838517532-6069890962206321416?l=monkeetales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/feeds/6069890962206321416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7055328040838517532&amp;postID=6069890962206321416' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/6069890962206321416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/6069890962206321416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/2007/12/post-christmas-sickies.html' title='Post-Christmas Sickies'/><author><name>Monkee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10969754224267415427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7055328040838517532.post-166545156522161165</id><published>2007-12-27T14:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-27T14:37:35.597-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello World!</title><content type='html'>I finally got Mom to show me how to work this stupid piece of machinery.  You think humans, who claim they are so intelligent, could figure out an easier way doing things.  Computers are nice, but if you don't have fingers then they are hard to use.  Why can't they make keyboards designed for kitty paws?  Hmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, my name is Monkee.  I'm a black smoke Maine Coon.  I'm 2 1/2 years old and my litter mate is Loki.  He's my big dumb brother.  When the Supreme Kitty gave out the brains and the brawn, He didn't distribute them evenly.  I got all the brains, he got all the brawn.  Which means he's very big and very dumb.  I'm very smart and...well...svelte.  It really is amazing that we shared the same mommy kitty.  You would never guess by looking at us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I share the house with mom, dad, and eight brothers and sisters.  Yes, as mom calls them, it's our "flock o' fuzzies."  The oldest is Boo.  Nice guy but I'm starting to think he's retarded.  Kukai is the little Japanese Bobtail.  If it wasn't for him, I'd be the smallest guy in the house.  Also, he is freaking loony.   Then there is Bailey.  I like her.  She's another gray Maine Coon and she's big, fat, and warm.  Bomber is OK but he doesn't like me too much.  He's got some serious issues about sharing time with mom.  Phoebe is next.  She's not that smart either but she loves attention.  That's good for me 'cause she distracts the humans while I'm stealing their food.  Fizzy is a big tabby girl.  Sweet and feisty.  I've already mentioned my brother Loki.  Then, last but not least, is the kitten Dharma.  Sweet and feisty too.  However, she is a major spaz.  Makes me look like I'm popping Valium some days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing you need to know about me is that while Ayla was my older sister, we were nothing alike.  She was an old crazy cranky cat.  Me?  I'm the smartest creature in this entire house.  My mom says I'm "too smart" for my own good.  Hehe.  Too smart for her own good is more like it.  Sometimes I think she wants me to be the traditional kitty who plays with string and poops all day long.  Oh no.  Not me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have two goals in life: to torment my dad and to seize all the chicken in the house.  If I can do both at the same time, all the better.  Why torment my dad?  Well, 'cause I can.  Mom gets all "well he's a cat" attitude when I do something wrong which is no fun.  Dad?  He gets so pissed off and the look on his face is just classic.  It's even better if I've stolen chicken from him.  He gets all red and angry and grabs the water sprayer thinking that'll stop me.  Dude.  Water doesn't hurt me.  So I get a little wet.  It's the price you pay for great entertainment and good food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So welcome to my world!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.  I'm working on decorating the entire blog a little better but first I have to master using the mouse thingie.  Why do humans call this a mouse?  It looks nothing like a mouse and doesn't taste like one either.  Then again, I've always been questioning the intelligence of humans since the day I was born.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7055328040838517532-166545156522161165?l=monkeetales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/feeds/166545156522161165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7055328040838517532&amp;postID=166545156522161165' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/166545156522161165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7055328040838517532/posts/default/166545156522161165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://monkeetales.blogspot.com/2007/12/hello-world.html' title='Hello World!'/><author><name>Monkee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10969754224267415427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://www.hockeycat93.com/fuzzies/images/monkee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>22</thr:total></entry></feed>
