Fibby finds feline friendship?

        As of yesterday evening, I am house/cat-sitting for my sister. She has two cats, Tiger and Rosca, who both hate Fibby and myself. The first day went smoothly.. and by smoothly I mean horriffic. When the hissing finally winded down and I was at least sure the cats weren't about to throw up their separate gang signs and have a blood bath, I sat down and watched Knocked Up. After the movie ended I noticed that it was quiet... too quiet. I could find Fibby because she hadn't yet gotten used to the apartment and remained hiding in the same spot for four hours, but Tiger and Rosca had disappeared out of thin air. After calmy combing through every possible hiding spot (or so I thought) in the entire apartment, I grew frantic. I started running from room to room just to make sure they truly weren't in the apartment anymore. I realized I had opened the door once, to get Fibby's litterbox out of my car (I figured they wouldn't be to happy sharing theirs with some random new cat) and the thought popped into my head; the ninja cats got out, and it's been approximately two hours that I haven't noticed. So I ran out into the lovely 90 degree weather we were having here in PCB to look for them. I couldn't really decide what to do when I got downstairs because they could have gotten anywhere in two hours and I wasn't sure if they had really gotten out, so I kept going back upstairs to look again then back downstairs when I still couldn't find them. My sister lives on the third floor of a building that doesn't have elevators. I ran up and down those stairs at least seven times. Then, an hour and a half later when I was thoroughly drenched in sweat, blood, and tears I decided to get my keys and drive through the complex. This is when I decided it would be best for me to call my sister to tell her that I had failed at the simple task she had given me to feed her cats every now and then and I had lost them. So I called her and said, "Hey you... so, uh, is there anywhere your cats, uh, hide, like really well?" to which she replied, "Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, they like to hide inbetween the two mattresses of the trundle bed". Sho'nuff when I got back to the apartment, the nincompoops were exactly where she said they often were.

 a seemingly ordinary day bed.. gone sneaky trundle.

 This tubby tom is Tiger.

And this is Rosca. She's about the same age as Fibby, though they still hate eachother.

        I guess the moral of the story is that instead of getting myself in a tizzy when something seems to be going wrong, I should breathe a little. I had to go to work pretty much immediately after I found Tiger and Rosca because I had spent so much time looking for their furry behinds and didnt have much time to get Fibby situated. I spent pretty much all day at work envisioning her getting a deluxe, two-against-one ass-whooping from Tiger and Rosca.. but when I got home she was fine, just hanging out on Tiger and Rosca's kitty condo which she loves and makes me eager to get her one for her very own.

        Tiger and Rosca had unsurprisingly returned to their lair between the mattresses of the trundle bed. I went and saw Bridesmaids which was hilarious thanks to Kristen Wiig and Krista Rudolph and came straight home after that again (because I'm a grandma). Still, Tiger and Rosca were in their lair. I took a shower and just when I had laid down in bed with my hair wrapped up in a towel I heard something fall.. though I didn't really think anything of it, just kinda' figured it was one of the cats knocking something over for shits and giggles. Then I heard a lot of things fall, very suddenly, loud enough to make me believe, for a moment at least, that Al Quaeda had chosen my sister's bathroom to unleash their wrath for the death of their leader by means of nuclear bombs. Very slowly, I crept into the bathroom to see just what in tarnation was going on. The damn shower caddy fell over, along with and thanks to my sister's extensive collection of shampoos. Upon discovering the wreckage of toilettries, I realized that I had enough rises in my anxiety for the day and turned around to pass out in the cloud made out of "NASA's space-age, visco-elastic memory foam".

All hail Tempur-Pedic.

        Today hasn't been quite as exciting, though I did spend some quality time making monkey bread with the kitties when I got home from work. It was fantastic.

come to momma!

        If you'd like to try out the recipe, it's right here: Monkey Bread. I personally prefer to leave out the walnuts and raisins, but I'm sure that would be rather scrumptious.. if you're into that sort of thing. Also, I use four cans of the cheapo small cans of biscuits instead of two cans of the pillsbury homestyle-whatever that the recipe recommends to get your moneys. Don't know if that makes much of a difference (in taste or in finances) but really the only reason I went by this recipe is because I couldn't find the one I had written down years and years ago from my elementary school best friend's momma.. and I just remembered the biscuits she used. I ate a whole plate of this stuff.. couldn't help myself. I'm cat-sitting for two more nights so I'll let you guys know if the cats come out of hiding to give me a chance or if some other fiasco goes down. Bye-bye and good night!