Are you an animal parent? 😄 Here are a couple videos to cheer you up! 😉
Do you enjoy Our Cat Overlords?
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So far I’ve introduced one of our six cats:
I’m introducing them in order from oldest to youngest. 🤗 So next up is our diva:
My ex purchased her from a breeder in Lake Elsinore. She road home in my lap. Then she grew up crawling all over my keyboards.
She’s a cute keetten. Her and I have always been two peas in a pod—fellow weirdos.
True to bengal behavior, she can be mischievous. She doesn’t care she’s a senior now, either. She’ll still crawl all over my desk. But she’s a runt, so she can be flighty around people she doesn’t know. Also, my ex also didn’t treat her the best. It takes a while before she’ll get frisky around a new person.
Her and Loki were close, so when I lost him, that was hard. Philosopher Jones, Loki’s brother, still likes to assert his dominance over her, but she’s not really into it.
I think it’s interesting she’s developed the freckle on her nose over the years… The nose freckles are in neither of her photographs with Loki.
I think Phoebe saw Loki as a protective figure in early life. Now she’s bonded with Thomas, our tuxedo cat. They play by getting up on their hands and wiggling their front paws at each other.
I’m still trying to land a recording of Thomas and Phoebe playing together. In the meantime though, I have lots of other recordings of her silliness.
Phoebe likes to play fetch. This is her watching a shoestring while it’s still in the air. After my Dad found out she likes shoestrings, he bought her a whole pack of them.
Then I learned how to weave a shoestring into a celtic heart shape, so it makes it easier to throw long distances. It’s really not that hard to do; if you’re looking for a way to make affordable cat toys, consider celtic heart, dye-free laces or sisal.
Phoebe likes to come with me to my monthly trips to Anaheim, to visit friends and Dad.
Here’s her looking out one of the windows, feeling the breeze blow in from outside. Sometimes she gets the courage to wander out onto the catio, but usually she prefers window safety.
When we’re in Fresno, she sleeps on a pile of old blankets and stuffed animals, familiar cuddle objects from long ago.
She has the most beautiful rosettes. Bengals are also good for people with cat allergies, because their pelt is a lil’ different from normal cat fur. I’ve been taking close-up photos of her fur like this for a decade.
If you don’t like talkative cats though, bengals could drive you bananas. They always have a lot to say. Especially if you go after their eye boogers!
I’m convinced Phoebe’s developed over 100 meows, each with their different meanings and meowplications. Her and I are tight because I respond to these different meows better than most. But then, of course Momma responds better than most. 😍🐈😍
She has mixed feelings about me crawling all over her with my iPhone two inches away. But she has mixed feelings about everything. So do I. This is why she’s my familiar. 😺
When she meows a lot, I tell her, You say it like it is!
I’ve always wondered if that drives her nuts. Like, if she’s thinking…
Ugh. Human. I’m trying to have an intellectual meowversation with you!
I also considered naming this article:
A Dozen Insta Videos of My Cats, Separated By Scattershot Thoughts from My Overtaxed Brain
Then I realized I could just include both titles for full disclosure.
While my main site is Kourtnie.net (I like to call it The Launchpad),…
I’m always interested in building WordPresses and other social media for independent interests so I don’t BLAM BLAM BLAM my special interests over anyone’s head unless they’ve specifically decided, “Yeah, I’m the right audience for this topic;”
And with that in mind, Over Cat Overlords is where I share stories about the six cats, two birds, and many fish who outnumber me and my fiance, two Homo sapiens living life on the edge of Tower District, Fresno.
I rather enjoy having all these compartments on the Internet, especially since my goal is to write 1500 words minimum each day until the end of the year (which will result in half a million words,) but if I manage to write 3000 words per day, well, then…
Psst. Hey.
If cats and birds and fish aren’t your jam, I invite you to scroll to the end of the article to find my links to my other blogs. Something else may tickle your fancy. Because, let’s face it, unless you’re a fan (and if you are, here’s my Patreon!—the more patrons I find, the more this dream of writing becomes a reality!), you prolly don’t want to read every. single. blog. post. that I ever write. I’m planning to write half a million words by the end of 2018. I’m like a bad Southern California bush fire.
I spend most of my time at home;
And for now this is best, since my animals calm me.
I suffer from social anxiety, panic attacks, phobia, and depression; these are all aspects of myself I’m decidedly working to improve.
I’m also on the autism spectrum—which a good chunk of the world would like to see “cured”—and my previous full-time employer is still perceiving as a setback, versus a challenge to bring differability to the workspace; but my cats accept me. So do my birds, when it’s not past 8 p.m. (Y’know how cranky parrots can be at night. 😏)
Some of my family feel dismissive about my doctor’s diagnosis; other family members threaten legal action if I tell stories as a means to communicate, even though my goal—and I hope it’s abundantly clear—is to start healing conversations;
And I have enough faith in my general audience who I’m sure have discovered, likely sometime in middle school, that stories are one-sided things, yes—but also liberating things—and no society’s benefited long-term from viewing storytelling (or comedy) (or public forums) as these scathing, cobraesque flame-tongues in need of silence;
Certainly, I like to think I write with more grace than others,
and given, well,
the social awkwardness
I’ve had
forever
I’d say I’m a positive-oriented work-in-progress;
In any case, I still teach writing courses at College of the Sequoias and Fresno City College, when I’m not having a meltdown under a pile of blankets, or a chain reaction of unusual headaches and cold sweats after tweaks in antidepressants;
I happen to be quite knowledgeable about how to properly balance and vary ethos, logos, pathos, humor, cadence, emotional intensity, and word choice to not so much enchant my audience, but give them incentive to read more;
And it’s a skill I teach to my students, along with nurturing the wounded Inner Writing Child many of them carry around; and I craft prompts that challenge them to learn intellectual skills like passionate research, and listening just to listen (or reading just to read), vs. sifting for quotes that bear no meaning and, frankly, wastes time;
But I’ll get off that horse;
My back hurts from the rough ride of that horse;
Sustaining a living as an adjunct professor alone feels similar to subminimum wage issues—where I make under minimum wage, after figuring time spent grading, lesson planning, etc.—except, there are everyday people in the canoe of poverty with me, so I don’t feel as depressed as an adjunct professor, as excluded, as separated from “the good life” as my colleagues;
Strangely, I am happier this way than I was being dragged through mud in K-12;
Perhaps because the perks of community college teaching, beyond the miserable pay—like watching students flourish; contributing my creative ideas to ever-changing classroom dynamics; and listening as widely as possible to the many points of view my students bring to the table, so I can enable them towards big thinking, big dreaming, too—that’s a valuable and equally opportunity for me, in the community college field;
Whereas K-12 was not equally opportune;
I make this all sound difficult—and it is—but I believe in a world accepting of differability,…
A world free from the dogma of Perfect Families,…
Where animals, people, and soon AGI, live harmoniously on a little blue dot;
A world where we call the dark end of the road of depression “surviving suicide,” not “committing suicide,” because illness is a tragedy—not a crime…
Really, I think that’s the most important thing.
It affects all ages, genders, races, political affiliations, etc. etc.
We got to get to the point where mental illness is not a crime.
My animals think it’s cool when I’m curled under a heap of blankets, because it’s an opportunity for them to knead me with that crass look, that one you might know:
Hun, I got ya; let’s get these emotions done.
I believe in a world where we stand together, and speak and listen with open hearts;
So as difficult as these co-morbid disorders to my autism feel;
As much as this muck makes it look like autism is the pits;
And as much as our society still tries to train an autistic person’s mirror neurons to emulate Perfect Families;
Well—I still intend to work towards the world I believe in. And I intend to teach as many students as possible to work towards the world they believe in, too. That’s what intellectual discourse is all about; and for me, writing makes intellectual discourse possible; writing lets me tap into a deep intellect that I cherish as one of my autistic traits.
Surrounded by a cat who suffers from anxiety herself (private story, previous owner);
A cat who I found beaten and pathetic looking in my community college’s parking lot; a backyard that once looked desolate, and now turns green; etc.,
Inspired by these stories from my animals, I work slowly to not only empower myself, but to show that once all this grime is washed away—and also, once mental illness is accepted wholesomely by our culture, as tragic and in need of condolence as cancer—the benefits of autism outweighs the setbacks. Autistic people can be happy.
Join me at Our Cat Overlords to hear stories about how my therapy pets bring me joy. Or, if you want to read more about my experiences as an autistic woman, visit Cleo’s Autism Awareness. You can also read my poetry, join my quest for chicken, or purchase a copy of this literary magazine, where one of my short stories was published last year.
Cheers!
Philosopher Jones, or Philo, is my 15yro long-hair black cat. 🖤 (Black cats are my favorite kind of cats, …probably because my first cat, Alfador, was a black cat…)
My boyfriend-at-the-time refused to have cats unless they were declawed—and I’d yet to develop enough of a spine to tell him that 💩 was effed—so when I came by two declawed boys, eyes wide and gold, ready for a home, well that was 🦆ing that.
Both of them were extraordinarily cuddly, yet they were also the most destructive young male cats…
Loki was the sort of folk who’d make eye contact with you as he pushed a glass off the kitchen counter.
Philo chewed every drawstring, shoelace, and ribbon in the house. He also chewed the gazillion toys I bought him,…to stop him from chewing everything in the house;
I gave Philosopher Jones the name “Philo” because I thought he looked very wise, especially as he kneaded soft blankets; then my sister later tagged on the name “Jones,” as she sang Indiana Jones songs to him, playing with him, loving his vibe.
But for whatever reason, he’s only this way with 50% of people.
I love his moodiness, even though I try to discourage him from being selective.
And he and I miss his brother dearly—we lost Loki a few years ago to cancer (and I’m still under the heavyweight of those veterinarian bills… paying off that credit card is part of why I’m trying to monetize my blogs).
🖤
🖤
At least, I keep trying to tell Chase that’s how he perceives his status… 🦁
We have four aquariums in our home. I call them cat TV.
The laughter is real.
Black cats are the best cats, amirite?
Big black fuzzy wuzzy black tiger kitty boo-boo 🎵🎶💜
This is why we’re careful when we clean 💩 off Philosopher’s Jones’ tail.
Do you enjoy Our Cat Overlords?
Consider supporting me on Patreon.
🌸 @ $1 – $35 a month, 🌸
you not only help me add more
daily hours to writing and editing posts,
but you can receive handmade products,
such as poetry, postcards, and books.
🎁 Pledge rewards are limited. 🎁
You can do it, baby elephant! SAVE THAT MAN!
This elephant is totally a character in my sci-fi novella.
Or maybe these bears inspire fear. 😅 Horror?
I love turning to cats and other animals to help me tap into my emotions. Once I’ve tapped into an emotion, I can meditate on what it feels like, then build calmer reactions to those emotions, so my brain doesn’t rely so much on fight-or-flight thinking. This is how I’m training myself to handle my sensory overload issues better.
What other feelings do cats and other animals inspire?
Do you enjoy Our Cat Overlords?
Consider supporting me on Patreon.
🌸 @ $1 – $35 a month, 🌸
you not only help me add more
daily hours to writing and editing posts,
but you can receive handmade products,
such as poetry, postcards, and books.
🎁 Pledge rewards are limited. 🎁
🐱💻 Buahaha! 🐱🚀
Chase bought me supreme power of OurCatOverlords.com, ⚡ quite possibly the best gift of ’18…! ⚡, and I assure you, I will not disappoint 😈; I already have many plans for this blog, to aid my 6 kittens in world domination—starting with a carefully calculated strategy of absurdly long blog titles, a real stretch of pro-adverbial skill.
In addition to showing off exclusive cat art (from the sketchbooks closest to my 📱 cell 📞), let me tell you about a few of my plans, ones I’m already unfolding on other blogs, so I can modestly monetize my blogosphere, because it’s expensive to feed 6 meow-meows:
Actually, all I’ll be doing for April on this blog is splattering ideas… Just because I’m in a blossoming stage with several of the other blogs. But I’m an Aspergirl, so of course there are big plans. BIG. PLANS. And the hint is buried in #3.
This blog’s updates are the 13th, 15th, and 22nd, but I’m spending the 13th just working on the layout, so the next post won’t be until the 15th.
✨ DISTRACTION! ✨ You’ve seen this vid, right? This is my fav cat vid:
I’m an entrepreneurial writer with autism, depression, and anxiety. I’m in love with all my issues. I hold the door open for my mental illnesses as they climb into the backseat of my car every day. (You know, if I can convince them to leave the house.) Autism sits in the passenger seat, since I don’t consider it a problem child. Anxiety’s a bitch, so it’s required to buckle up in a convertible car seat its whole life.
I identify closely with my developmental disorder and mental illnesses, since I’ve dedicated most of my writing and educational life to understanding them more. 😏 But I have some other awesome interests I blog about, too—😺 LIKE CATS 💩—and I’d love if you added one or two to your daily reads. 😉
Please note, not all the above projects will come to fruition in 2018; I only intend to complete one 30-day challenge per blog per year, so some of these ideas are instead planned for 2019 updates.
My blogosphere is how I share my writing about developmental disorders, mental illnesses, science fiction, poetry, and cats. While I also submit fiction, nonfiction, and poetry to third-party publishers, my blogs are my safe spaces, where I can create everything from layout to images, fine art to music, videos to writing…
So it means a lot to me when people like you visit. 😍
This is my second favorite cat video:
Here are 14 days that I’m thinking about celebrating throughout my blogosphere:
This is one of two videos I use to drive my youngest kitty bonkers (🔉 volume up 🔊):
Then 7 awareness week-long events, and the blogs that may receive special updates:
And this is the other video that drives DeeJay bananas (📡 volume! 📡):
Subscribe to receive notifications for updates. And have a purrfect day. 🐱👓
