Fibby's fan page for facebook

        Good news, people. Fibby's Modern Life has crossed the boundaries between good and evil and we are now attacking the world via the most popular social networking site to date. That's right; we're facebook official! So here is a little button for you to click if you'd like to support our transition to the dark side.


        Now that is something beautiful. In other news, Fibby and I have been preparing ourselves to take large steps in our lives and that is why we have been a little MIA. Fibby will be coming to terms with the fact that she will never bear children after tomorrow which although she may not be as complex-minded as those of us that walk on two legs, I'm sure that is a bit heavy especially considering it is a choice she is not able to make for herself. Mommy knows best though and no cat of mine is going to be a lady of the night for all the cats on the block to impregnate should she escape into the wild again. Also, I am about to spread my wings and fly from the nest as I am graduating from high school on the 18th of May.

Hip, Hippo-Ray!

        Coincidentally, my doorbell just rang with the package containing my awesome-possum graduation announcements from tinyprints. Weird. Well, I guess I'm off to addressing these bad boys while Fibby has a good ole' time with the tissue and cardboard box. Toodaloo!

Fibby speaking,

        Yo, meow meow meow, what! 'Aight but listen, Amanda be trippin'. She been leavin me at the house all day err'day lately and I 'bout had it. I recognize a girl's gotta make some money one way or another but it get me so fired up sometimes I just wanna keep her up all night knockin' her valuables off her dresser. You don't even wanna' know what happened with the doggy door incident. Why can't a kitty get a whiff o' that sweet stuff the canine's been sniffin'? The fresh air in this hood is grade a, daw' but ya' see me sniffin' it? NO, 'cause my mommy thinks its too dangerous . The street's where I belong, mayne. When my pops ditched out after the fire when I was only a couple weeks old, you see me cryin' under a shed? Maybe, but dat's beside the point, daw'. Da' point is I was raised in da' hood an' I kno what its like. I'm hard, daw', an' if Amanda keep babying me like I'm 6 months old, the toilet paper's gonna' get it. Yea, she'll see. I mean, all due respect, I love my momma. She boss, mayne. Feed me treats all da' time an' clean my crib up real nice like. 'Dis is pimp kitty livin'. All I'm requestin is I be treated like the tough feline I is. My possey got 'nuff o' a good laugh out o' this wack collar she had the nerve to put on me. All I want is a lil' bling bling, ya' feel me?
     I'ma backtrack right quick 'cause I realize I just let my temper get a little outta' control.. happens when I get shorted my fix o' catnip. Yea, see, Amanda been workin' hella' lot. I miss ma' momma an' I not ashamed either, maynes. Who's I sposed to chill with, specially when I can't meet up wit' my possey what with the outdoors bein' all off limits now. Brodi's cool an' err'thang but damn he's stupid. He's my brother from another mother, don't get me wrong, sometimes I just wanna' associate with some more complex minded individuals an' discuss concepts o' life an' naptime. Just 'cause I don't talk formal don't mean I aint' got no colorful mind. Nah, stuck ridin' solo all day. 'Least I got mah sick beatz tho.

        Yeeeeeeea kittayyyy. 'Aight well it come that time fo' me to split. Gotta' go chill wit' Amanda fo' a bit before she rides out. Later mayne.



Fibby fetches foam balls for fun

        Fibby has learned some new tricks this past week. These include how to fetch (good) and how to escape through the doggy door to the great outdoors (bad). I wouldn't mind her being an outdoor cat much if it weren't for the fact that my backyard faces N. Lagoon, a treacherous cat-killing death trap. So we had to change our daily game plan. Ordinarily, her littebox is in the bathroom. Think of the litter box as figure A. We leave the the doggy door (figure B) open all day long so that Brodi can chase something invisible, howl at ambulances, and poop at his own initiative. Fibby usually prances past figure B and goes straight to figure A when she needs to relieve herself.. that is until approximately 15:00, Wednesday, the 6th of April, the day she decided she would rebel and skimper freely in the wind as mother nature intended. As of that night, our daily lives were changed forever when I moved the litterbox into the closet in my bedroom so that I can lock Fibby in with me while the doggy door is left open at all hours of the night for Brodi so that he doesnt pester any of the beings in my household when he has to tinkle. The first thing I do when I wake up is shut the doggy door and then I must let Brodi out the old-fashioned way until it is night again. Fortunately, Fibby's food is already on the nightstand in my room or that would have been rearranged as well. Then Fibby would have been all kinds of confused. I reckon I will be taking Fibby out for walks more often since she is obviously feeling deprived of the sweet fresh air. Fibby and Brodi shall coexist no matter how difficult or annoying it will be.
        As for her other newly surfaced talent, Fibby's fetching was discovered on the same day she learned of the doggy door. I was working on a massive backup of assignments for my class when she popped up on the sofa next to me with her blue ball in her mouth. I took it from her and threw it, knowing that she would chase it but figuring that she would just pat it back and forth along the hardwood for the next hour instead of what she actually did (which was pop right back up on the couch with it in her mouth again). I was tickled, and I continued to do this with her for a good while before I made myself finish my homework.

        I have to let her bring the ball to me without interfering, or else she'll think we're playing the chasing game and she will simply run from me. When I do obtain the ball from her, I have to make it very clear to her that I have the ball and am about to throw it, or else she won't even notice and she'll just start licking herself or look at me like, "What da' hail mayne, where da ball at?". Also, I only speak in baby voice to my furry friends, not a human being in the world will hear that tone in my voice inflicted upon them, except for maybe my spawn someday.