TRAVELS WITH TIGGY

 

EDITOR’S NOTE: Hi, I am David L. Brown, a human who is the property of a cat named Tiggy. (In case you didn’t know, people don’t own cats; cats own people.) Tiggy and I are living full-time in my RV, and Tiggy has asked me to help her launch this blog to relate our adventures from her point of view. I’m  jealous because she’s already snagged a gig as columnist for The Bosque Beast, a bi-monthly paper about animals. She’ll tell you all about it, but if you want to know more about the paper you can visit its website here. Now I’ll turn this page over to Tiggy (but don’t worry, I’m going to help her with spelling and stuff like that). You can write to Tiggy through my email account david at dlbrown-inc dot com.

 

SPECIAL NOTICE:

Tiggy, 2000-2012 R.I.P.

Writing with tears in my eyes I am sad to report that Tiggy passed away yesterday, January 12. She began to have violent grand mal seizures on Sunday, January 8 and veterinarians were unable to find a treatable cause. The seizures increased in frequency until on Wednesday the 11th they were coming as often as once an hour. To ease her suffering she was put to sleep yesterday morning. She was about 11 years old. Tiggy was a dear, sweet companion. I had looked forward to enjoying at least several more years traveling with her, but it was not to be. It is gratifying that she had adapted well to the RV lifestyle and actually seemed happier during her last weeks than she had been for a long time, purring and alert. Animals such as Tiggy can fill a huge hole in our lives and that space in my heart is now empty. I will miss her more than I can tell. — David L. Brown, “Her Human”

 

 

By Tiggy — December 24, 2011

Hi, your favorite cat blogger here. It’s Christmas Eve and I’ve hung up my stocking in our little box on wheels. Actually, I don’t wear stockings so I’m using one of my human’s socks (ewww!). I’m hoping to get some really nice gifts, including cat treats and maybe even a new catnip mouse. My human says I have to have been a good cat all year or I’ll get some coal or a bundle of sticks. I don’t know what I’d do with those things — build a fire I guess — but I’m not worried because he keeps telling me what a good cat I am. Except the time I scratched the chair, but he explained about that and I promised not to do it again so everything’s OK now. He said somebody called Sandy Claws or something probably won’t be coming since we don’t have a chimney for him to come down. I have no idea what he’s raving about. Humans are so strange.

We’re still here in Corpus Christi, Texas where the weather has been pretty blah since I last wrote. Lots of windy, cloudy days and rain. It doesn’t bother me because I stay inside where it’s warm.

My human has been out and about, though, doing whatever humans do. Actually he told me about some of his adventures. He want to a poker night at the “Wreck Room” here at the RV park. He played something called “Texas Hold’em,” and I guess he didn’t hold’em tight enough because he said he lost his shirt. I couldn’t figure out what he was talking about, since he still had his shirt when he came back to our little box on wheels. I’ll never understand the ways of humans.

The RV park put on a chili cook-off and supper last week and my human made a pot of chili to enter in the competition. He said his came in last out of eight, probably because he put too much Tabasco in it. He likes his chili hot. I don’t like spicy food either, so I don’t blame those other humans for voting him down. Anyway, he was pretty happy that there was lots of his chili left over so he put some away in our freezer for later meals. (For him, not me; I stick to my cat food thank you very much.)

So tomorrow is a Christmas dinner in the Wreck Room, and they’re going to deep fry a couple more turkeys. Boy, I hope my human doesn’t go overboard and stuff himself like he did at Thanksgiving. Heh, stuffed turkey. Anyway, I’ll be watching him and give you a report if anything interesting happens. Meanwhile, my human and I wish you a very merry Christmas. — Tiggy >^oo^<

 

By Tiggy — December 11, 2011

Hello all. I’m pleased to announce that I have written my second column for The Bosque Beast. (Well, my human helped some but the ideas are all mine.) Here’s a preview for those of you who are following my blog here at my human’s web site. Hope you enjoy it.

On the Road At Last

Well, we did it. Around mid-November my human and I closed the door on our past lives. As you may recall from my last column, I am Tiggy, a very special tabby cat now living full-time with my human in what he calls a motor home (I call it a box on wheels). I’m writing about our adventures together with a little help from my human (he’s really good at spelling and using a keyboard).

Sometimes I get aggravated with him. A few days before we departed I was just minding my own business, coming downstairs from a nice afternoon nap to check out the food bowl, when he grabbed me and stuffed me into a cage. Can you believe it? I was madder than a wet hen (at least that’s what my human said but I didn’t even feel damp). Before I knew what was up he had me in the car and driving down the road. You can bet I let him know what I thought of that, but he just kept telling me to stop caterwauling.

As I suspected he was taking me to see the cat doctor human, and after I met her everything seemed to be OK. Apparently I needed some “shots,” whatever that means. My human told me he also updated the contact information for something called a “chip” that he said was stuck into my neck a few years ago. Wow, that was news to me. The only kind of chips I’ve ever seen were made of potatoes, so I hope it wasn’t one of those. Anyway, he said it was to identify me if I should ever get lost. I don’t get that because I already know who I am and we cats are never lost.

I was pretty much upset again on the day when we started to drive away from our comfortable old house (much yowling, according to my human, although I was just trying to get his attention.) I was convinced he’d probably left my food bowl behind, and that just wouldn’t do. But it was OK and after he showed me where it was I settled down for the ride. Actually, I can tell you that I really don’t like riding in the box on wheels, and can’t stand to actually watch. So, I crawl under the seat while my human does the driving.

I sometimes think my human is a bit crazy. For example, when we passed through someplace called Roswell he told me that it was known for flying dishes or something. At our next stop I checked the kitchen sink in our little box on wheels but didn’t see anything suspicious. Then my human told me it was saucers that fly, not plates or cups, and since I didn’t see any saucers I guess they had already flown away. Don’t ask me about these things.

Anyway, now we’re in Corpus Christi, Texas and have a nice RV parking place right on the shore, next to some palm trees and a big mimosa, whatever that is. My human says we’re going to stay here for the winter, and that’s good news because frankly I was pretty tired of all that driving and bouncing around.

The next day after we arrived my human went to someplace called the King Ranch where they put on a big Cowboy Breakfast. I wish I could have been there, but it was apparently a humans-only event. Well, except for horses and cows and such. No cats. My human told me he listened to some cowboy poetry, but he couldn’t remember any of it to tell me more. I guess it was something like: “Roses are Red, Violets Are Blue, I’m a Cowboy and So Are You.” Hmm, maybe I should start something new: Cat Poetry. Um, no, probably not a good idea.

‘Til next time. — Tiggy (Her mark: >^oo^<)

By Tiggy – November 25, 2011

I really don’t know why we’re so sleepy today. Well, I do know in the case of my human … it’s all that turkey he pigged out on yesterday. As for me, well, you know I need my beauty rest. Here’s a snapshot my human took of me with his little iPhone:

 

Well, we’ve been here in Corpus Christi for a week now and I guess it’s OK. I really haven’t been able to do much except guard the RV, but my human tells me about his adventures and it sounds pretty exciting. Well, maybe not really, but interesting. Last Saturday he went to the King Ranch for their annual Cowboy Breakfast. I wish I could have been there, but it was apparently a humans-only event. Well, except for horses and cows and such. No cats.

My human told me he listened to some cowboy poetry, but he couldn’t remember any of it to tell me more. I had to imagine it was something like this: “Roses are Red, Violets Are Blue, I’m a Cowboy and So Are You.” Hmm, maybe I should start something new: Cat Poetry. Um, no, probably not a good idea.

This place we’re staying at is just across the road from the beach along what they call the Laguna Madre, which is the body of water between the shore and Padre Island. There are a lot of birds around. I like birds, but what cat doesn’t. And there are plenty of fish in the ocean, or so I’m told. Our host at the RV park Laurence is a great fisherman and the “wreck room” walls are covered with pictures of him with his trophy catches. Me, I’m sticking with my regular dry catfood, which is made mainly of duck. Yum, duck! I think that’s a bird.

Well, that’s all the snooze, er news that fits, so I’ll say adios until next time. — Tiggy >^oo^<

 

By Tiggy – November 18, 2011

Well, we did it. On Tuesday my human put me into his little box on wheels and closed the door on our past life. I was pretty upset at first (much yowling, according to my human, although I was just trying to get his attention.) You see, I was convinced that he had forgotten my food bowl, and that just would not do. After he showed me where it was, I settled down for the ride. Actually, I must say that I really do not like riding in the box, and can’t stand to actually watch. So, I crawl under the seat while my human does the driving.

As we traveled, my human gave me a running commentary on what I was missing, which pretty much messed up my nap time. I think he was making up a lot of stuff, because on those occasions when we stopped and I looked outside, there wasn’t much but a lot of nothing.

I think my human is a bit nuts about some things. For example, when we passed through Roswell, New Mexico he told me that it was known for flying dishes or something. At our next stop I checked the kitchen sink in our little box on wheels and didn’t see anything suspicious (although I did think I saw a plate move a little bit). Then my human told me it was saucers that fly, not plates, and I didn’t see any saucers so I guess they had already flown away. Don’t ask me about these things.

We spent a night in the town of Pecos, Texas and I have to say that was another major disappointment. My human had told me about some guy named Pecos Bill and it sounded real exciting. In fact, we spent the night free in the WalMart parking lot so there wasn’t a bill of any kind in Pecos, much less a famous heroic folklore figure causing mountains to bounce up and digging the Grand Canyon by dragging his feet while riding a horse. Hm, sometimes I don’t know what to believe.

Anyway, now we’re in Corpus Christi, Texas and have a nice RV parking place right on the Gulf, in the shade of a big mimosa tree. My human says we’re going to stay here for a while, and that was good news because frankly I was pretty tired of all that driving and bouncing around. Now perhaps we can settle down and I can get some well-deserved rest. My human went down the road to have lunch at a little beach-side restaurant and he said they had big signs all over the place saying: DO NOT FEED THE SEAGULLS. I don’t know what that means, but I guess it would be better not to feed them or who knows what might happen. I worry enough about not being fed myself so I don’t have energy enough to worry about some stupid seagulls, whatever they are.

Anyway, enough for now. I’ll keep you up to date as things develop. — >^oo^<

 

By Tiggy – November 10, 2011

Well I don’t know what’s going on but my human and I still haven’t begun the endless journey he keeps promising me. Actually, some troubles with his little box on wheels have held us up, but he tells me the technicians have finally solved the trouble. (Actually, he said he had to do some of that “Googling” he always talks about and explained to the technicians what they had to do. He was muttering something about “incomp…” something or other, “idiots,” and some other words I don’t know about. Humans are really strange.)

Meanwhile, last week I can report that I was about as mad as a wet hen, or at least that’s what my human told me I reminded him of. I was just minding my own business, coming down from a nice afternoon nap to check out the food bowl, when he grabbed me and stuffed me into a cage. Can you believe it? Before I knew what was up he had me in the car and driving down the road. You can bet I let him know what I thought of that, but he just kept telling me to stop caterwauling.

Well, as I suspected, he took me to see the cat doctor human, and after I met her everything seemed to be OK. My human told me that I had to have some “shots,” whatever that is, but I didn’t notice anything. My human told me he also updated the contact information for something called a “chip” that was apparently stuck into my neck a few years ago. The only kind of chips I’ve ever seen were made of potatoes, so I hope it wasn’t one of those. Anyway, he explained that it was just a little thing that would let someone find out who I am if I were ever to get lost. I don’t get that, because I already know who I am, but I’ll humor him. He seems to think it’s in my best interest, so that’s OK.

More later – Tiggy

 

By Tiggy – November 2, 2011

Well, wouldn’t you know it. After all the promises from my human, we’re still here in the house in Rio Rancho. He keeps saying there are problems with his little box on wheels (he calls it a motor home) that the technicians at Camping World don’t seem to be able to get right. He finally did something on his little TV thingy, he calls it “Googling” whatever that is) and found out what the problem was. Strange that the “experts” couldn’t have done that in the first place, but I guess that’s why they get the big bucks. (Don’t ask me what that means, it’s just something my human keeps saying about them.)

Anyway, I’ve been giving this whole thing some more thought and think it might be OK to be a traveling cat. After all, it’s starting to get cold here, and even with my beautiful fur coat my toes get a little chilly at night. My human says we’re soon going to be going to where it’s warm for the winter, and I’m all in favor of that.

Not much to report. I’ll keep you up-to-date when we get on the road and have something to complain about, er, I mean, tell you about. Well, time for a nap. — Tiggy

October 16, 2011 — Well, this is exciting. I never thought I would become a writer, since we cats are generally more interested in checking on the food bowl, taking those all-important beauty naps and, of course, being petted and groomed. Anyway, here I am and here we are, and as we cats say that’s pretty much all there is to life. (Yes, as this experiment in inter-species communication proceeds I will share some of my cat philosophy ideas with you. You’ll probably be the better for it.)

To introduce myself, I’ll post the column I wrote for the November-December issue of The Bosque Beast, with a little help from my human. Pretty neat if I do say so myself, and it’s a good way to let you know who I am and what’s going on with me. Here goes:

Alarming News

By Tiggy

Well, when my human told me the news you could have knocked me over with a feather toy. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, and you can bet that I can hear a lot better than you.

Before I explain, let me introduce myself. I am a very special tabby cat of a certain age. Actually, I’m not sure what age, because like some others I seem to have misplaced my birth certificate. My human says I must be about ten years old, so I’ll take his word for it. In cat years that’s…um, let’s just say that I’m in extremely late adolescence.

I go by the moniker “Tiggy” as a kind of shorthand for Tigger, the name my human gave me because of my beautiful tiger-like stripes. Actually (and this is a bit embarrassing) before my human invited me to live with him I was called Fanny. I didn’t care for that name. Someone suggested it had something to do with my being a bit “broad in the fantail,” whatever that means.

But getting back to the alarming news, my human announced that we were going to leave our comfortable house in Rio Rancho, New Mexico and go to live in a little box on wheels. He says it’s a “motor home” but it looks like a box to me. It’s seriously lame compared to our five-bedroom house. What is he thinking?

Well of course I raised all kinds of objections but my human just told me to quit “caterwauling” and take it like a cat. When I realized that he was serious I thought about taking those lemons I’d been given and making some lemonade. Fortunately I remembered that I hate lemonade so I decided to go off in a huff and find a dark place to lurk. We cats are good at that.

Later when I came out to check the food bowl my human suggested that I should take a positive approach to living in that little box on wheels. He told me it would be a lot of fun, seeing different places and meeting other humans and animals. And then he suggested a great idea: That I should start my own written account of what it’s like to be a traveling cat.

He said it could be in the form of a “blog” (whatever that is) and that we could call it “Travels with Tiggy.” He said that title would remind readers of something about some old guy and his dog, but I don’t get that part and I don’t care much for dogs. He said I could become a kind of feline Jack Kerouac. He explained that this “Jack” person was known for being “on the road,” but any smart cat knows that’s no place to be unless you want to end up as roadkill du jour.

Anyway, about that time I heard about this great new publication The Bosque Beast and I decided I wanted to become a contributing writer. (In the interest of full disclosure, I can’t actually write. After all, I’m a cat and such things are beneath me. Anyway, my human has offered to help me with the actual “writing” part, while I come up with the ideas and other hard stuff.

We’re going to begin our endless journey in mid-October. My human says we’ll migrate south as the weather gets cooler, and spend the winter months someplace warm called the Gulf Coast. Well, that sounds OK, but still we’ll be living in a little box on wheels so it can’t be that good.

Nevertheless I’ll look forward to reporting on our adventures. You can follow me on my blog at www.starphoenixbase.com (just click on “Travels with Tiggy” in the righthand column), or you can reach me through my human’s funny little TV thingy that he spends so much time looking at while playing with what he thinks is a mouse. (I’ve tried to set him straight on that, but he continues in his delusion. Not that I have anything against playing with mice.) His name is David Brown and you can send messages for me to david@dlbrown-inc.com (if you’re a cat you can get your human to write for you. No dogs, please). Until later—Tiggy

Well I hope you enjoyed my first attempt as a blogger and newspaper columnist. I’ll be giving regular reports on our adventures as we begin our journey in a few days. So, bookmark this page and keep coming back to see what my human and I are up to.