Saturday, July 12, 2008


Hey, everybody - well, all three of you - meet Phil!

He says he's heard about me and Casey, and that we're familia, so to speak. News to me, but I'll go along with it. 

So, I'll let my new cuz here tell you (and me!) about himself:

Hi Tazarina! My name is Phil. I think we’re related somehow, but who keeps track of these things? 

This picture is a couple of years old, but I think it captures my full range of emotions.

We seem to have quite a bit in common – I also moved from New York to Florida! Palmetto bugs were a delicious everyday snack for me, too, until the humans thought it would be a
good idea to rebuild my house. 

It went from the glorious cesspool of creepy crawlies to 
a boring place, where all I can do is drink dirty pool water.

This picture conveys exactly what I thought of that.

But I’ve jumped ahead of myself in my fit of rage!

I live with my sister, Lil, and a few humans. 

Lil is typing this for me. 

I got a car for my birthday two years ago. 

I still haven’t figured out exactly how it works, but I think Lil and I are making progress. 

I sit on top, navigating ...


... while she works the 

Lil can be a bit sneaky though. I always have to keep an eye on her.

Don’t let your brother get too full of himself. I do the crossword with my eyes closed.

Well, I go to sleep on them then wake up next to a completed one, so I think I do them. The humans are also trying to teach me math.

Here I am getting ready to use my crossword-solving method on some calculus problems.

Well, I’m off to take a nap, then eat some food, take another nap, have a quick clean, then get ready for bed.

It’s good to finally talk to you after hearing so much about you from the humans!

Your cousin (or something), Phil

Friday, July 11, 2008


There are those who backup their computers and those who will.

Guess which group we belong in?

Here I was, thrilled to pieces to meet my first paw pal Lucy Liu, when all of a sudden mommy gasped so hard she sucked all the air out of the room. Literally. Now I couldn't breathe! Do I dash out of the room? Do I brave almost certain death to find out why mom suddenly looks like a corpse? Albeit one hogging all the oxygen, mind you. Well, I'm a cat, after all, so curiosity kept my tushy firmly planted.

Seems iPhoto crashed. And where thousands of pix once appeared in neat little rows, dated and organized, there, on mom's beloved iMac, was just a blank, white screen. Blank except for a very scary error message.

Now my little heart was thumping. Can you imagine, wiped out, all those pictures - of ME?!! It was too much to take. I had to go lie down.


After a snooze, a snack and a long bath, I checked in on mom. Uh, oh. This was serious now: Dad had joined in, nearly assuring my photos would be lost forever. Mommy needed IT - and dad wasn't it! I told myself, Tazzie, calm down, there's only one thing to do. Eat.

My strategy of indifference worked. (You know, none of these things move me.) Somehow after lots of clicking and cursing and scouring through Apple's about-useless help files, the photos were restored. Catastrophe averted.

As I headed for that spot under the coffee table, I heard my folks saying they were going to look into getting a backup system. ... Tomorrow.

Thursday, July 10, 2008


I can tell my new friend Lucy Liu and I will be great friends. We have so much in common. For instance, she mentioned she'd been a stray once. Oh my god, me too!

But I never lived in a shelter. I was plucked off the street as a baby by my first owner. Casey, however, did spend some time locked up - at the North Shore Animal League in Port Washington, N.Y. He doesn't remember anything about it, though, because mom sprung him when he was just 9 weeks old.

Mom says he was a tiny thing, just all ears and mouth. (That last bit hasn't changed. He's sooo noisy it's like shut up already.) 'Course by the time I met him years later, he was huge. Everyone called him Gordiflón.

He's still a big boy, but, like me, he's also slimmed down with age. Sure can't say that about the humans in this household! (Watch it, missy! - Ed.) See how little I look in comparison. Positively petite. A wisp of a girl ... who doesn't need stretchy pants. Hee. 

Casey may be big, but smart? I just about missed the litterbox when Lucy Liu said he looked "highly intelligent." Oh, girlfriend, the stories I could tell you!

Anyway, her letter got me thinking maybe some of you are unfamiliar with palmetto bugs. That's a shame, but I'm sure West Virginia offers great feline entertainment, too. Click here to see a good specimen.

Tuesday, July 8, 2008


Finally, a new friend! 

This is Lucy Liu from West Virginia - not to be confused with the Kill Bill actress (not at all cuddly). I'm going to let her introduce herself and her family to you in her own words:

Hi there Tazarina!

My name is Lucy Liu. I am an oh-so-cute orange tabby.

My mommy and daddy adopted me from a local shelter. I had lived there for three months and had been to the "back room" (as they called it) four times!! The nice shelter director liked me so much that she kept bringing me back up front to the office where I stayed in a comfy two-story condo. People would walk past me and say how pretty I was, but no one took me home till my Mommy came back and said, "Is she still here?? You mean no one took her yet? Well, just bring me a carrier and I will take her!"

The reason I went to that shelter was because I was a stray. I don't even remember why I got lost. But it worked out for the best. I will never leave my yard again!

I go out on the deck with my two sisters, a toy poodle (just adopted in May) who's 2 years old, and PO, my longtime sister. We are the same age and I practically grew up with her. PO is part Pug and Jack Russell, and she plays the Mommy figure with us. She will even watch over us in the yard. A Mother hen, so to speak.

The new one - Sophie Michele - really loves me! We lay together all the time. She does get into my food and Mommy had to move it to a higher place, so the Jumpin' Bean doesn't get to it. I am amazed at how she goes Boing, boing, boing!

I saw your pictures and you are a cutie pie yourself!! Love how you look on the deck! Catching some rays while you play with those bugs? Bugs are the best because you can play with them for a long time...until our Mommies take them away! I'm not sure what a Palmetto bug is...hmmm. Mommy is going to look it

Anyway, this is a great kitty site and I will email you again sometime. Maybe my cousins will email you too! There are four more kitties in the family and they don't live too far from me.

You and your brother, Casey, seem to be such rounded individuals. Casey impressed me doing people puzzles. Wow!! With the puzzle in hand, he looks so serious and highly intelligent. And you are one witty chick yourself! 

Meow, Meow!
Lucy Liu from WV

Monday, July 7, 2008


It's summer alright.

The A/C wheezes and puffs day and night, and still, thick blobs of hot, wet air push their way in through every cranny of this old place.

And so do my favorite playthings: palmetto bugs!

I always know when a new toy has arrived for me when I hear mommy screaming. It's as if she's as excited as I am!

Lately, these joyous outbursts have been music to my ears daily. Sometimes, to my delight, several times a day.

It's better than camp.

Like any good parent, however, mother tries not to spoil me (ha, too late!) and asks dad to take them away. I barely get any time to chase them and bat them around before I'm made to "share" with less fortunate critters who live outdoors.

That's fine, though. 

This is Florida, so summer - and the summer rains that bring bugs - last nearly all year long. Ahh.


Recently, it was revealed that the late Queen of Mean hotelier Leona Helmsley left $8 billion for the care of canines. (Yeah, I know this is old news, but I've been busy.)

Now that's rich. New York City's own Cruella de Vil's fortune going to the dogs.

I have nothing against dogs, per se. They, after all, have the misfortune of not being cats, so sympathy is certainly in order.

But $8 billion?

According to a piece in the Times, the city's pup population was decidedly unruffled when told of the bone-anza. They barely looked up from their butt-sniffing.

Like they say, you can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear. Nor should you - if I may add my 2 cents to the pot - any more than 101 Dalmatians should be used for their fur.

Sunday, July 6, 2008


Hello, friends.


Is there anybody out there?


It occurs to me that Tazarina may sound a little intimidating. It's regal. It's powerful. It's an insignificant syllable longer than tzarina – a Russian empress. Yes, that could be me.

But since in reality I couldn't be farther from some sumptuous palace brimming with dazzling Faberge eggs, myself dripping in exotic gems, swathed in faux furs and feasting on vegetable borscht served up on dishes of solid gold, you can call me Tazzie. Everyone else does.


To mother, however, I'm Mami, Mamita, Mamacita, Muñeca, Muñequita, Cuteness, Poopy Bear, Honey Bunny, on and on, including, I kid you not, Pooquiia and Pooquiitita Dinda.

Presently, I'm plotting my escape. (Don't believe it; she loves her nicknames – Ed.)

Yeah. Whatever. (Is this a happy face?)

So that gives me a thought: write me about your humiliating human. Let's see how they like it!


Good morning! Casey woke mother up nice and early, as usual, with his howling. She doesn't mind. Really. She loves that probably the only other people who're up at that hour are ... um, hmmm, well ... no one! She gets to watch the sun rise over the ocean. All by herself.

And I get to eat, finally.

I love Sundays. Mommy makes her espresso with soy milk, then curls up on the couch with a New York Times crozzie and me. Casey almost always butts in 'cause he likes to help with the puzzle, as you can see. (He likes to think he's helping, anyway - as much as he can think.)

We meditate. Then if it's a pilates morning - as it was this fine morning - I challenge mommy by strategically placing myself on her mat and nudging her hard at key points. I'm very helpful that way.

As a reward, I get to go outside. Which, in a high-rise, means stepping out onto a concrete slab in the sky. No plants to munch on, no lizards to chase, no means of escape. (Ooh, did I say that out loud? Kidding, mom!) But there's sun and breeze and all sorts of weird and wonderful smells that tickle my adorable little button nose.

All makes me very sleepy.