On Slippery Slopes, Cat Cafes & The Amish

Coming soon to a couch near you.

TP: Come on in, Little. Do I detect a bit of spring in your step?

LM: You do love your little clichés, don’t you, doc? Yes, spring has finally sprung. Chipmunk season is officially open. And yours truly is on the case.

TP: Yes, I saw a particularly sporty shot of you in hunt mode the other day. What was it, on Facebook? You looked feisty. Maybe even a bit trimmer?

LM: Nice try, doc. No. No trimmer. In fact, the last time dad and I visited the vet, ol’ Doctor Evan didn’t even bother to weigh me.

TP: No weigh-in?

LM: Nope. Evan and dad pretty much did a simultaneous he-looks-about-the-same-to-me shrug and sent me on my way. Think they’re finally gettin’ the message…I’m a big boy, and it suits me.

TP: It is true; some people just tend to be, how should I say, husky. And they look good that way.

LM: Right. Lots of famous fatties. Sydney Greenstreet, Jackie Gleason, Tony Soprano—big guys who knew how to carry it. Belushi was another one. That actor, John Goodman, the great W.C. Fields, Zach something-or-other from those Hangover movies…it’s quite a list. And how about the ladies—Aretha, the Queen of Soul. That’s a lot of woman! She wears her lbs with more than just a little R-E-S-P-E-C-T. Read more →

On Black Eyes, Celebrity Stalkers & Hunky Cops

I thought vacations were supposed to make you feel better.

TP: Little Man, you don’t look so good. What happened?

LM: Vacation, doc. That’s what.

TP: Your parents took you on another vacation?

LM: No, no! Once was enough. No, this was just the two of them. Me? I did the Home Alone routine. Alone, that is, except for the schizophrenic alternating pit stops of the “keep it moving, convict” former prison guard/slop server in the mornings and the idyllic “I can almost see the happy birds flying merrily about and hear the Seven Dwarfs whistling while they work” Disney lady in the evenings.

TP: Disney lady? Oh, Snow White.

LM: That’s what they call her. You think I look bad now…imagine if I didn’t have her coming by each day to buck me up and offer a little TLC.

TP: Well, your parents are back now, right?

LM: More or less. Mom walked in the other night with a black eye; Dad came limping in with some foot problem and moaning that he didn’t feel good.

TP: Black eye? Read more →

On Bachelor Weekends, Footmen & Dr. Seuss

The window washer did what?

TP: Morning, Little Man. You look happy!

LM: Big weekend coming up, doc. Bach’n it with Dad.

TP: Bachelor’s quarters, eh? Where’s mom going?

LM: Headin’ out west…her and Mr. Leo have a photo session with some big wrestler-type.

TP: Wrestler?

LM: Well, actually, he’s one of those M&M guys. Mixed martial arts, I think it’s called. Or Maximum Mayhem Administrator…I don’t know, something like that. Basically, a big badass! Read more →

On Henny Youngman, Romeo & Nighttime Crying

Rolling in on a suitcase.

TP: Hey, Little Man. Sorry we got snowed out last week.

LM: Aw, probably just as well, doc. Gave me time to cool down.

TP: Something happen?

LM: Nothing huge, just the usual petty annoyances that’ve been ramping up lately, thanks to my increasing presence on social media. You might have noticed the picture mom recently posted of me catching Z’s on my custom-made suitcase bed?

TP: No, I think I missed that, Little. What’s a suitcase bed? Read more →

On Award Shows, Wingnuts & Omaha

Back where he belongs.

TP: Come on in, Little Man. I missed you.

LM: Oh, really? Well maybe you shouldn’t take such long holidays, doc. It’s been a rough few weeks.

TP: You seem a bit edgy, Little. Tell me about it.

LM: Okay. Let’s start with props and slights. Read more →

On A Trip To The Emergency Room

A “grumpy old man” takes a trolley ride.

TP: Great to see you, Little Man. Heard you were sick.

LM: Thanks, doc. Yeh, I had a rough time last week. Couldn’t even eat! That freaked everybody out.

TP: I bet.

LM: Three straight days of no appetite and even my vet, Dr. Evan, was worried. Apparently, he told dad that when big, rakishly handsome cats like myself stop eating for even a short period, our internal organs can shut down and, well, next stop—the big litterbox in the sky. Read more →

On Vocabulary, Facebook & Tree Climbing

Humans…they’re a funny bunch.

TP: Come on in, Little Man. What are you chuckling about?

LM: Oh, I was just sitting there in the waiting room thinking about mom’s latest project.

TP: Regarding you?

LM: Yeah. She’s tracking my vocabulary…what words I know. Can you believe it? I swear, doc, sometimes she acts like I’m just another cat.

TP: Hmm. What did she come up with so far? Read more →

On Business Meetings & Ancient Greek Sculpture

Little’s mom suggests a special session.

TP: Didn’t expect to see you today, Little Man. Had you scheduled for next week.

LM: Right, doc. Blame it on mom.

TP: Yes, she seemed upset when she called. What happened?

LM: A home invasion. That’s what happened. Read more →

On Super Bowls, Mom & Marketing

Little Man opines…from Meathead to Monopoly.

TP: So, Little, being a Baltimore cat, I assume you got caught up in Super Bowl fever?

LM: Not me, doc. In fact, I sent mom and dad out of the house to watch it. Too much yelling and screaming. The name’s cool, though.

TP: Yes, it’s obvious you’re a fan of super sizing.

LM: Don’t get all caught up in the weight thing, doc. I’ve been tipping the scales at a very consistent “just shy of 30” all winter. Pretty good, I think, considering the loss of my little chipmunk playmates.

TP: What do you do for exercise all winter, Little Man? Read more →

On Sound Machines & Drill Sergeants

Little’s therapist returns from break.

TP: Happy New Year, Little. How’d the holidays treat you?

LM: Not bad, doc, considering.

TP: Considering?

LM: You know the drill. The family blitzkrieg, too many kids, wrapping paper flying all over the place, “sound machines”…like these kids need help making noise.

TP: What are sound machines? Read more →