Welcome to Snarkfest

Welcome to my snarky corner of the web. Join me as I discuss everything from wine to chocolate. There may be a few other topics mixed in there too. I talk a bunch about my amazing offspring, 24 and 21. I sometimes go on and on about my secret crush on the amazing Mike Rowe. I talk about things that irritate me or things that make me happy. Sometimes I just talk to hear myself talk. Feedback is always appreciated but please make sure it's respectable. No nudity or profanity. I'm the only one allowed to be profane. But any and all snark is welcome and appreciated!

Tuesday, February 11, 2020


In honor of the fact that my cat, Cinnamon (you all know her as Dumbass because that's how we've referred to her since we got her) turns 19 (!!) this year, I'd like to dedicate this post to her.

For the love of God how much longer are you going to live???

No, seriously, you have used up 14 of your 9 lives, cat!

How many times have I posted about Dumbass jumping into AND GETTING STUCK IN the refrigerator?? COUNTLESS, that's how many. She has been trapped in there more times than I can remember!

I remember when we brought her home on the day my husband ran his first Marine Corps Marathon back in 2001. This cat was actually born ON September 11, 2001 (we should have named her 'Disaster' or something, but we went with Cinnamon). 22 and 20 fell in love with her. She was tiny and sweet and cute and all the things a kitten should be.

And stupid, did I mention stupid?

But I digress. Back in those days, it was still okay to get your cat declawed, so we did. (sorry animal lovers but furniture is expensive, yo!)  Only her front claws were removed, we aren't complete monsters. This was a cat who, while supposed to be indoors, tried to escape every chance she had. If that front door opened for any reason, she was there trying to get out. She never went far, usually just to the tree out front, but the sweet smell of freedom has always been like a siren calling to her. To this day she still tries to get out, but she always comes back.

Anyway, the day we brought her home from the vet when she was declawed (I said I was sorry!) she found herself at the door when one of the girls came home from school and she took off. She went right out to the Bradford pear tree out front and attempted to climb it, as she usually did when she tasted freedom. Only this time, she was at a disadvantage. No claws means no climbing. She got about halfway up and slid down like a fireman sliding down the fire pole en route to get on the truck and go fight fires. It was something to behold.

She terrorized our old cat, Pinhead (are you seeing a pattern of rude nicknames for cats in our house yet?). Pinhead's real name was Sherri (clarification: we had a black cat named Sunni and when we got the new cat, my husband thought Sunni and Cher would be just adorable names for cats. I, however, disagreed. We compromised and instead of Cher we went with Sherri. Except from the moment we named her, we never called her Sherri, because she was such a Pinhead. So Pinhead stuck).

Digressing again. Dumbass always terrorized Pinhead. When we moved from New Jersey to West Virginia, naturally we brought both cats with us (but in separate cat carriers) and when we went to make settlement on the new house, they came into the office with us. We had them facing one another for company and they chatted with one another during the whole settlement process. Everyone in the room got a big kick out of it.

Pinhead eventually went to that big litter box in the sky and we brought home Henry and Cosmo. Dumbass started getting a taste of her own medicine, with the dogs terrorizing her daily. But now that she's old and crusty, she tolerates the dogs and they pretty much ignore her.

Notice the tongue sticking out on this vicious killer cat. The dog is now 34 times her size and could eat her in 1 bite.
Nowadays, Dumbass doesn't really want to be bothered unless someone is in the bathroom because that's where we keep her food. If you enter the bathroom (for any reason) she thinks you must be in there to feed her. I could go in, feed her, take care of business, wash my hands (of course!) and leave, but if I go back in there 10 minutes later, it is obviously time to feed her again. It's a vicious cycle with her.  I don't know if she's forgetting that she just ate or if she thinks her time is limited so she should eat ALL the time.

She has brought us lots of laughs, many scratches with her back claws, many instances where we've tripped over her but she's still here. I think she just refuses to die because she's stubborn.  Either way she's been a good old girl and I wanted to celebrate her while she's still with us. Sort of a living eulogy for the cat.

Relaxed Dumbass