blank'/> The Libe ob Don Estorbo de la Bodega Dominicana: 2010

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Me an' my igloo


Peectures: the Smoothman


Sheet.


Whad ees thees?


Ber' eenteresteen'...


Pelleds!


Breeng arn the Ice Age, hombres! I yam ready!!!

Sunday, December 26, 2010

For had


Pappa The Smoothman ees cormeen' arn the train frarm Montreal to sleep weeth me por two nighds before he goes to Afreeca to see the Wooman. Moch snow ees predeected. Maybe he ged storck.

Eef he geds cole' een the snow I weell seet arn his head to make him warm again.

Sunday, December 19, 2010

Eep.

Eed ees cole', y I yam wrabbed een my chashmere blanket.  Ees sarft. The Wooman an' me, we share thees blanket. Worn day, larng ago, she cort eed een halb. I gard worn halb, she gard the order halb. She wear eed as scarf. Sormtimes, when I feel lighe I yab larst my keettens, she wrab me een the blanket.


Soon the suitcases corm oud an' they weell leab me. Again. 


Why?

Maybe they are goeen' to loogh por my keettens.

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Dayeen...


The Wooman cannard coogh, so I had to help hor feegure oud how to maghe souffle. The mose' eemportan' par' was wheeskeen' the cream. I hab wheeskhairs, I tole' hor, ob course I shoul' be wheeskeen' the cream!

I tell you, thad Wooman has a hard ob stone.

So I gabe orp my cream dreams an' sad an' wadged the snow florries. Ees lighe a beeg cad ees pulleen' oud the feathhairs ob a leedle whide bor'.

Ay. I yam so hongree.

Pee Ess: I yam now worgheen' por SETI. I weell be weareen' the bastardcollhair por ebber. An' ebber. An ebber.

(We are nard alone.)

Friday, December 3, 2010

Friday news


Major braghethrough arn the terrace yesserday: the Wooman ad las' wen' oud an' deed sorm worgh. She ees berber' lazee. Terrace looghs lighe sheet. Por mornths I yab nard been able to maghe scratcha arn my larg. Las plantas wor een the way. Why are las plantas more eemportant than me?! Bod las' nighd I made scratcha teell the spleent-hairs wor flyeen'!


Een order news. The bue collar: same ole' same ole'. Sormtime' when eed ees folded bag I can leeck my bagleg: leeckaleeckaleecka! Then the Wooman shoud ESTORBO an' I maghe myself flad an' she peeck me orp an' roll me ober an goes, Seelly Cad! Then she wash my leg and pud the cream arn an' pud me bag arn my legs an' fole' the collar forwar' again. Lighe cone, ligh satellide deesh. My gard. I heear too moch. So moch soun' een the worl'. Bod now I cannard reach my leg. Ees...como si dices...eenfureeadeen'!


I steell play weeth streeng ebery day. The Smoothman says I yam goeen' loco. I play weeth streeng lighe I yam goeen' to KEELL eed. So? I yam goeen' to keell eed! An' I weell keell them eef they ged een the way!

I maghe yompa arn the roop, sometime' weethoud the collar. The Smoothman say the collar ees bad por balance, an' maybe I ged storck sormwhere, lighe the time I lefd my short arn the fire escabe ob the bandido. The Wooman ees more, lighe, whadebber? Bod I know eef I go meesseen' she weell corm an' rescue me.


There are carnstrarction worghairs arn the house ob the bandido. They ebeected heem. So I no go there no mas. I hade worghairs

 Time por a nab. My nighds are so essausteen'. The labender squort bardle terrorizes me so now I only eep ad 5 or 6 am.  Taghes so moch energy to sopress the eep.

Sunday, November 28, 2010

Northeen' ees sacred no mas...

The yoomans theenk they are so forgheen' fonny. They talgh abou' the 'beeg foss' I maghe when I got to the leedhair tray. Hello? Thees ees pribade beesnees!?

Bod no. Yes you can! they shoud ad me when I go een there an' star' makeen' my escabations an' carncentration. 


Jaja.

Ja.

Friday, November 26, 2010

Arp Ed


View North Korea Attack in a larger map


There ees a gues' pose' I wrode por Geiger y Sporran's blarg een Queenslan'...Well, their barg ees call' Cad Thoughds arn the Worl'....

Thursday, November 25, 2010

Sunday, November 21, 2010

The weegh frarm hell


Hola.

Ees me.

You steell there?

Sormtime' I yam een my blue collhair, sormtime' I yam oud ob my blue collhair. Guess wheech I preefhair?

Also ees new debelopemen':

Ees water bardle, whad maghes sqortsqort. You know pssssht psssssht?

Why ees thees? Porque I yab habeet ob wakeen' orp the yoomans ad 3am to feed me. Ees nard my fauld. Ees the fauld ob the Smoothman who use' to corm bag frarm worgh ad 2, 3 een the morneen' and maghe me so essited thad I woul' beg and beg and beg... He ees now bag ad home wheech ees ber' goo' por me, BOD I yab steell the habeed ob when he came bag ad thees time, an' eed maghes the yoomans crazy, especial' the Smoothman who was nard geedeen' his sleep porque he say I waghe heem orp so moch an' he geds orp to feed' me to nard deestorb the Wooman's resd.

So the WOOMAN (who else???)...gard squort bardle and when I say eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep een the nighd she go Sqort! an' a meest ob agua weeth labender smell - like kaka - corms oud and I ron away! I yam now arn my thord nighd ob "traineen' " an' the Wooman tells the Smoothman eed ees goeen' berber' well. The fors' two nighs she gard no sleep, jajajajaja. So tire' een the morneen'.

Now I yos maghe smalleep lighe een the ole' days an' she say she can leab weeth thad.

Also ber sneaky ees she an' the Smoothman hab swabbed sides een the bed so now she ees arn the side ad the door where I beg. The Smoothman ees so nice he geeb me anytheen' I wan'. The Wooman say I yab heem wrabbed aroun' my leedle pad.

Ees true. He ees nice man.  She ees the Enforcehair.


So embarrasseen:

My bag leg ees geddeen' bedhair. Bod sormetimes I leeckleeck an' then eed ged worse, so the Wooman leds me oud ob the collar only ondhair superbision.

Bod weareen' the collhair ees problem going to the leedhair tray, you know, because when I yam feeneesh weeth the Serious Beesnees, I mos put my nose down and sneeff so I know where to corber opr,  an' twice I put my nose down and the forgheen' collhair ged push' eento you- know-whad, so when I corm orp I steenk! My gard, who made thad smell?! I as'.

They call' me sheet head.

So then the Wooman taghe the collhair arff my head queek and washwashwash eed and I smell como labender.

Doan' you weesh you had my life?

Now, when the Wooman heear me goeen' to the leedhair tray an' makeen' scratcha een the san' she rosh afterhair me an' taghe the collair arff so I can deep my head to sneeff weeth safety, and also so I can maghe wash' immediate afterwards.

...

So you can see way I yab nard been wrideen'. Ees deefeecult to wride thees. Ees so ondeegneefy'.

The Wooman says fors' I yam geddeen cad seet-hair Lucy por Chreestmas, and then I yam geedeen' cad seet-hair frarm berber' far away, she say eed ees sormeone I know, an' I mos' be nice. I yam nice! I yam unique! I yos hab some Issues. Lighe the two YOOMANS I leab weeth.

Dayeen. Dayoud.

Monday, November 8, 2010

The Wooman speaks

Dear Friends of Estorbo

The cat has given me permission to respond to all your kind suggestions - and some hyenic laughter, tsk tsk - regarding his licking problem. Notice how he hands over to me when the going gets tough. Day in, day out.

janitabean - thank you for the tip; unfortunately anything applied to his skin will be licked off, and will actually make him lick. Cats hate having anything on their skin. He does not actually have any bacterial infection (he's been tested before).

Food allergy - John, thanks for your recommendations...Estorbo's food was in fact changed mid year to Wellness (hey Wellness, how about free food for the plug?). 

Itchy skin. He does not seem to actually itch, and has no dry skin or flakes. His fur looks very good. The licking always begins after he gets a very small, innocuous-looking scratch, and therein lies the detective work: is it from outside, maybe from a rose, or does he scratch himself with his back feet, and a sharp claw, which I keep quite trimmed?

Gentian violet, Sherri B and Anne Boleyn - I quite like this suggestion. I don't believe it will stop the licking, because only a barrier between his raspy tongue and the affected patch seems to do that. But it does dry skin out and leaves no residue.

Dr Ted (I know who you are. You are a d.a.r.g.) - gedoverid is a good suggestion, as much as I dislike steroids, but they don't have Overid  here. I tend to think that his licking may be connected to his lack of cojones (we refer to what's left as "quarks", I don't remember why).  My family has had at least two neutered male cats who licked. Overid helped a lot. I leave the door open to that one. Wow - taking advice from a dog.

webb and kate on Clinton. It's Estorbo. Not Escorbo and not Estorba. Don't shoot me, I'm just the messenger. webb and Bumblevee - he does receive a small dose of velcote, an oil recommended for hot spots and good coats (and imported from Canada!) but since its contains wheat germ oil perhaps there was no point in changing his food so it contains no wheat? Also, does it work? Who the hell knows! Hm. As for chiropraction - I wonder. I think Estorbo might eat the chiropractor.

Which reminds me to write a post about a creepy osteopath in Chelsea.

I am, in general, incredibly sceptical about supplements. I tend to think that supplements are a massive racket, making major bucks for their producers with very, very little to show in the way of proof of efficacy.

Holistic may be a good way to go, but again, it will take a lot of time and a lot of money. So do repeated visits to the vet who lands up telling you that the cause could be anything. I am not pouring (more) endless hundreds of dollars into this problem, with so many possible causes. I have no health insurance and the cat has no health insurance. I want Obamacare for cats. Now.

Stress  (Rachel and Michelle) - hard to say, Estorbo is a pretty tightly wound kitty and has been since day one. He has a short temper. Perhaps because he was kicked or hit on the head before I got him. I am perhaps also a pretty tightly wound kitty, but his licking started early last year, not the day I got him, so I don't think it's me. And it's not Vince, who is very laid back. I am most certainly not going to put him on a tranquilizer, although it is tempting: he plays hard and he bites hard! He sleeps hard, too. Rescue Remedy is tempting...

He is back in his cone for a few days, to see if I can get the back leg to clear up. He tolerates it and if I keep it pushed forward (I had it folded back because I felt sorry for him), he doesn't seem to be able to get at the legs. The shirts he tolerates really well, but pants are just ridiculous.

So there it is. Day in. Day out.

See you in the trenches.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

Poll resolts een:


I yam NARD weareen' a forgheen' wornsie, no! NO No NO. Ead maghes my tail loogh fad.

When in doubt: eat cream

Friday, November 5, 2010

Feeleen' Blue



Thees pose' ees dedeecated to Alexa. I doan really onnerstan' hor messayge (las' carmment arn prebious pose'), bod I feel hor pain. The Wooman is neearly seex feed tall (excesseeb, yes?) an' the only time she wear high heels I theenk she ees gonna ead Manhattan.

Speakeen' ob dresseen' orp. You see my prarblem. The reason por my larng, larng silence ees....

...

...


shame.


I hab had a terreeble weegh. The stupeed yoomans say their weegh has been terreeble, too. Yeahrigh'. All because I was leeckleeckleeckeen' my bag lefd leg. My arm ees nearly bedhair, bod I wash the leg an' now is small padge whad ees red. So the Wooman FREAGH oud.

She and the Smoothman wen' to the bed. Weethoud me, Gracias a Dios por small morcies. BOD. They came bag. Weeth:

A CONE OB SHAME. Por real.


Blue. Made frarm tarpauleen' or somekine' ob sheet lighe theese. They say ees bedhair than plasteec, whad I hade. They poot eed arn my head arn tie eed with whide bow an' I walgh an' go bompa bompa bompa eento their legs, the chairs, the copboards. They laugh teell they cry. Then they cry. Teell I fine' the bow an' ontie eed an' pooll eed arff.

Ha!

Then they torn eed eenside oud so I cannard reach the bow. Now I can read label: These season I yam weareen' Webstair Beterinary. You see the shame een my eyes, yes? I wan' Prada.


Then the Wooman fole' the cone bag so ees no more cone bod collar: OK, now ad leas' I can see. Bod I steel loogh lighe a forgheen' eedeot.


An' ebery time I mobe I craghle. An' when I sleep I craghle. Een the nighd I craghle so moch the Wooman dreams she ees walkeen' arn fallen leabes.

Bod I porr. I porr an' I steel play weeth the streeng an' I still bide.

Then came the Day Three: I DEFEAD THE CONE! I ween! I ween! I can reach my leg eef I maghe force and I leeckleeckleeck. Yee ha!

The Wooman see me. She nearlee cry. She taghe arff the cone. You are a clebhair cad, Don Estorbo, she say sadly: Be careful wad you weesh por.

?Que? I say. No speagh Eengleesh.


Then. The Smoothman go to the carmpudehair. Oh, Sheet. He maghe Google.

He corm bag. He say:

We can:

1. Poot streeps arn hees skeen whad tasde bad, lighe cayenne.

No, says the Wooman.

2. Geeb heem blow-orp collar weeth air een eed, como un donut.

No, says the Wooman.

3. There ees a mozzle especial por cads...

NO! says the Wooman (I nebber thoughd she an' I woul' agree arn antheen')

Well, said the Smoothman (who I thoughd was my FRIEN'!), we can:

4. Pood short arn heem baghwar's, so the tail corms oud ob the hole por the head.

The Wooman theenks.

...

OK. she say.

I ron.

They fine' me. They poot me een short. Then they fall down laugheen'. Lighe hyenas nebber laugh. Lighe hyenas arn cragh, man. They cry. I porr.

I wan' pelleds. NEBBER led them see you cry.


Bod there ees no way por the short to stay orp. Eed fall down. The Wooman say she weel fine' me wornsie weeth arms y legs por los babies and poot eed arn me bag to fron'.

Yay. I hade my libe.


The Wooman say she weel allow my readhairs to bode. Allow, allow? You are MY readhairs, mine!

1. Taghe me to the bed to ged peels/steroids/newcone (pleeaseno)?
2. Led me go naked y see whad happens?
3. Wornsie so I yam cobered head to food weeth hole por tail.
4. Your own breelliant soyyestions.

Corrently, I yam naked.

Bode eeen the poll een sidebar an' leab soyyestions here.

I cannard forgheen' waid.

Pee Ess, sorm clues:


My food has been change', ees nard allergy por food.
Anytheen' you poot arn my skeen, I weel leeck arff.
I ged Velcote sopplement por the eetchy skin.
I play every day.
I yab been to bed three times por thees.  Same ole' same ole'.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Eschange bedween cad y yooman


So I'm lyeen' arn the floor ob the keetchen, eef you can call eed thad, nine an' a halb tiles een worn direccion an' worn an' a halb tiles wide...an' the Wooman looghs ad me, an' says, Doan' you wan' to go and shau-jua weeth the Smoothman? 

...

I yam nard sure were she ees goeen' weeth thees, so I yam silen'.

I mean, Estorbo, when ees the las' time you toogh a shau-jua?


....I canar' remain silen'.

I shau-jua weeth my tongue seberal times a day! I say.

She pay no attention.

The Smoothman walghs een. Pre-shau-jua. She says to heem, Thees cad was arn the terrace. He sad een all my parts. He sad arn my harleyharck, he sad arn my begonia, he sad een the rose, he sharpen his claws arn the WALL, an' then he threw orp the grass he had yos eaden and I deed nard ged there een time so he slimed the grabble.

The Smoothman loogh ad me. I loogh ad heem

No, there ees no poin' to thees story. Thees ees yos my libe.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Eenbasion!

Whad the forgh!?!

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!
Alort! Alort! Man the battle stations!
 
Brace por action!

Straighten the tail!

A-i-i-i-i-m... 

 
FIRE!
Sheet. Where EES he???

Can you see me now?

Oh, squeeeeeeeerel?

Corm an' play weeth Da-a-a-a-a-d-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y...

 
Northeen' weell escape me.

 
 [Squirrel]: Yee-ha!

Friday, October 15, 2010

Fall trend

I yos wanted to say thad I weell be weareen' my short arff the shouldhair thees Fall.

When I tole' the Wooman thees she said many badwor's. 

Soch bad language, I say, You mos' wash your mouth oud, I yam embarrass' por you.

=^^=*&!!*&!;%^$#ng cad, she say. 

She say eef I eenseess' arn thees fashion I weell nebber, ebber, be allow' to be naked again. WHY mos' you leeck the padge arn your arm, she say: whywhwhywhyyyyyyyyy?

Ayayayay. Cheell, Seester, I say. You know I yam Cattoleeckleeckleck...

You need sorm new yokes, Estorbo, she say. You are geddeen' stale.

Th, I say.

Dayeen. dayoud.