« Posts under Little Man On The Couch

“LITTLE MAN ON THE COUCH”…On The Eddie Haskell Of Cats

026What looks like a rabbit and acts like a dog?

TP: Come on in here, Little Man. I was beginning to think you were never coming back.

LM: Yeh well, it was a rough summer, doc.

TP: Tell me about it. I’m guessing it has something to do with the new “foster kid” your parents brought home. What was his name? The Colonel?

LM: It was The Colonel. Not any more! And there’s nothing “foster” about him. That was a bad joke from the get-go.

TP: So your parents couldn’t find him a forever home?

LM: Oh no. They found him one—mine! The little orange dweeb is now an official member of the family. Bliss!

TP: Hmm. I imagine that’s been traumatic. You had the place to yourself for what—ten years?

LM: Almost, yep. Not anymore! Now, I get to share everything with a kid who looks like a rabbit and acts like a dog.

TP: Explain.

TP: Well, like I told you last time, the kid’s tale was chopped off when he was abandoned on the mean streets down by the docks. Lost part of an ear, too. Add some mutton chop cheeks to that stubby tail and cauliflower ear and the kid bears more than a passing resemblance to a certain cartoon character who made his bones chompin’ carrots and callin’ everyone doc. Suppose that’s why mom decided to call the kid Bugs.

TP: Bugs? That’s his name?

LM: Bugs. Bugsy. The Bugster. Bugsaroo. Seems there’s no end to the cutie-pie variations. Gag me! No wait…goose me. That’s what this knucklehead does. »Read More

“LITTLE MAN ON THE COUCH”…On The Cat Formerly Known As The Colonel

Or how an orange furball played the “Tiny Tim” card to invade the premises.

TP: This is a surprise, Little Man. I thought you were taking the summer off. No more therapy until fall, you said.

LM: Yeah, well circumstances changed, doc. I need you to talk me down from the ledge.

TP: That’s heavy. What happened?

LM: They did it, doc. I just can’t believe they really did it! Again!

TP: Who did what?

LM: Mom and dad, that’s who, and another cat is what.

TP: Another cat? Living in your house? Since when? »Read More

“LITTLE MAN ON THE COUCH”…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

“LITTLE MAN ON THE COUCH”…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

“LITTLE MAN ON THE COUCH”…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!

TP: For the Soft Side animal thing, I assume.

LM: You got it. Guy’s out there training for his next big match in April. Anyway, dad and I’ll have the place to ourselves for the weekend. Woohoo! »Read More

“LITTLE MAN ON THE COUCH”…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

“LITTLE MAN ON THE COUCH”…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.

TP: Props and slights? (Chuckles.) Sounds like you’ve arrived with quite the organized agenda today.

LM: I’m glad you find this humorous, Mr.I think I’ll take most of January off this year. Thanks to you being MIA, I’ve had plenty of time to work up an agenda. »Read More

“LITTLE MAN ON THE COUCH”…On Cat Names, Dog Peculiarities & The Prodigal Half-Pound

It’s a boy. Oops! Not so fast.

TP: Hi, Little. Happy Halloween a day late!

LM: Thanks, doc. I went as myself this year—“a grumpy old man.”

TP: Still smarting from that ER doctor’s comment about you, I see.

LM: Let’s just say it was good he didn’t send his kids over, trick-or-treating.

TP: OK, Mr. Grumpy. What else is new?

LM: Here’s something. You know Miss Genny—Curly’s mom and all-around-trouble maker?

TP: Sure, we’ve discussed her before.

LM: Well, she’s big into fostering kitties, for which I give her kudos. But she seems to have a little trouble with gender identification.

TP: How so?

LM: Get this. She finds a little one abandoned in a trailer park and decides to call him Earl. Makes a big deal of it on Facebook, says she’s naming him after some TV show called, My Name Is Earl. Duh. Apparently, it’s a show about some ne’er-do-well who tries to turn his life around. And this has what to do with a newborn kitten?

TP: Well, people have all kinds of odd ways of naming their pets. Look at you.

LM: This is not about me. Anyway, a few weeks later, STOP THE PRESSES. Earl’s a girl! Oops! That’s a little embarrassing for Miss I know everything about pets. Hell, she’s only been breast (I mean, bottle) feeding the little runt for weeks…she just now got around to checking out the equipment? Anyhow, now we get a post that says, “we think Earl might be a girl.” She thinks?

TP: Well, maybe it takes a little while, you know, for things to develop.

LM: Please, doc. It ain’t rocket science. Anyway…drumroll…here comes the name change. Earl is now Celeste. Now you tell me, doc, have you ever heard of an animal named Celeste? I mean, what’s the kitten named after now? A pizza? She’d been better off taking a page out of that Prince guy’s book, you know? Just become the cat formerly known as Earl. That’s got some panache, at least. »Read More

“LITTLE MAN ON THE COUCH”…On A Trip To The Emergency Room

You’d be grumpy, too.

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.

TP: Scary. So even your vet thinks you’re “rakishly handsome,” does he?

LM: Just paraphrasing, doc, okay? Anyhow, by late Wednesday night, mom and dad were pretty worried and, no kidding, I was hurtin’. Giving dad the old do something eyeball and my most pathetic woe is me cry.

TP: That’s when you went to the Pet ER?

LM: Right. Dad checked with Dr. Evan first to see if we should wait until morning to see him, but Evan said, No way. Get that little stud to the ER, pronto.

TP: Were you worried?

LM: I have to be honest, doc. I was. Mom couldn’t get over my total silence on the drive over. I was busy with that whole life flashing before your eyes deal. It’s true, you know. Thinking about all the things you did, shoulda done, coulda done, would do if you were allowed just one more bite of the apple. Maybe I shoulda been more of a lap cat for mom, a better (slimmer) hunter for dad. Perhaps I coulda been nicer to that dweeb, Curly, or less aggressive toward the annoying kid in the plaid pajamas. Probably shouldn’t have laughed when dad fell out of the tree and fractured his rib trying to “save me” when I was little. Stuff like that.

TP: Hmm. So what happened at the ER? »Read More

“LITTLE MAN ON THE COUCH”…On Weighty Issues and Political Poop-Heads

Back where he belongs.

TP: Come on in, Little. How’s your summer going?

LM: Pretty fair, doc. Kinda slipped off the diet wagon, though.

TP: Hmm. How bad?

LM: About a buck-fifty’s worth.

TP: Pound and a half? Ouch!

LM: Easy, doc. I’m working on it. Or I should say, dad’s working on it. Trying some new techniques to get me moving more.

TP: Like?

LM: Like taking me down to the basement before meals so I have to walk up the steps to get back to my food bowl.

TP: That’s a good idea.

LM: Yeah. Stairmaster 101. Unfortunately, the scale’s still refusing to budge for me. Dad dropped half a pound, though. Let’s see…what else? Oh yeah, he puts me outside more often.

TP: What do you do out there? »Read More