Tag Archives: cat blog
Luno's Journal

Journal entry – The Morning the House Breathed

By on Friday, August 22, 2025
Black-and-white photo of Luno the black cat detective in noir style, halfway sitting and glancing slightly to the right.

Not my best work, but still better than Goofus.

The house opens wide

The human pulled a stunt I wasn’t expecting. He opened the place up like a speakeasy with all the doors and windows wide. Sliding glass, front door, even the hallway. For the first time since I moved in, the house actually breathed. A soft breeze rolled in, 79 degrees, humidity high but not unbearable — at least not for St. Louis.

Watching from the cat tree

From my perch on the cat tree, I caught it all. The smells, the sounds, the whispers of critters outside. Birds chattering like gossip columnists, bugs droning their endless song. The squirrels? Quiet. Suspiciously quiet. I figure my presence keeps them away. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

One month on the job

Maybe it’s the lazy air, maybe it’s the timing, but I find myself thinking ahead. Tomorrow makes one month in this joint. I’m weighing it all — the pros, the cons, the grievances. Whether this human’s worth the trouble or if I should start casing an escape route.

A 6:30 standoff

Speaking of trouble, we didn’t get off to the smoothest morning. At 6:30 I pulled out a new tactic in my ongoing effort to break the human in. I stormed the bed like it was a crime scene — running across the covers, pouncing on top of him, purring loud enough to rattle the walls, meowing like a siren in the night. Anything to get him up.

He stirred, stumbled to the bathroom, and I thought I had him. But when he came back, he closed the bathroom door behind him. A quiet move, but I knew what it meant. He was plotting. One more step and he’d lock me out of the bedroom completely. So I dialed it back. I let him think he won and I stayed quiet until 8:30.

That’s when I tried again. And this time, the human got up. Victory? Not quite. Out of spite, he headed straight for the shower instead of the kitchen. No food, no can cracked open, nothing but the sound of running water. Eventually he came out and fed me, but not until after the shower. Point to him, maybe. But the game isn’t over.

The case continues

So I’ll give him that. For now. Tomorrow’s another case file, and an anniversary at that.

—Luna 🐾

Stay Connected! 👍 📸 Follow me on Instagram

As an Amazon associate, my human earns from eligible purchases. Prices and availability are subject to change. Check the relevant Amazon site for current details.

Continue Reading
0
Luno's Journal

Journal entry – The Case of the Vanishing Ice Cubes

By on Monday, August 18, 2025
Black-and-white photo of Luno the black cat detective in noir style, sitting and looking upward to the left.

Don’t ask me what I was looking at — I don’t remember.

The freezer door opens

The joint was quiet, too quiet. Then the freezer door creaked open like a guilty conscience. I knew what was coming. Ice cubes. Cold, slick, and mysterious as a stranger in a smoky bar.

The first vanishing act

At first, they gave me the slip. One would slide under the icebox and I’d stake it out for days, certain it had to crawl back out. Didn’t know then that cubes don’t come back. They just vanish, melted away like promises never kept.

The water bowl trick

Later, I learned another trick of theirs. In my water bowl they’d cool the drink, then disappear without so much as a goodbye. That’s when the human got wise—he started dropping them straight onto the floor, just for me. And that’s when I cracked the case: ice cubes disappear no matter where they land.

Better than any toy

Still, they’re fun. More fun than any toy. Even better than an Amazon box—and believe me, that’s saying something. But humans don’t leave boxes out forever. Ice cubes? They’re the real deal. The greatest toy a cat could ever ask for.

The mystery remains

And the mystery? That’s the part that gnaws at me. Since I moved in on July 23, I’ve watched the human shovel out enough cubes to fill ten litter boxes. Yet the supply never runs dry. Nobody hauls them in. Nobody delivers them. They just keep appearing, day after day, from that cold box five feet above my reach. I can see where they come out, but not where they’re born.

So I’ll keep my eyes sharp and my paws ready. One day, I’ll crack the case of the vanishing ice cubes. Until then, I’m watching.

—Luna 🐾

Stay Connected! 👍 📸 Follow me on Instagram

As an Amazon associate, my human earns from eligible purchases. Prices and availability are subject to change. Check the relevant Amazon site for current details.

Continue Reading
0
Luno's Journal

Journal Entry — The Neighbor, the Mutt, and the Flight Risk

By on Friday, July 25, 2025
Black-and-white photo of Luno the black cat detective in noir style, sitting and looking upward to the left.

Don’t ask me what I was looking at — I don’t remember.

Chained to a Routine

I met one of the neighbors today. A female human with a mutt named Pickles. He barks like he’s auditioning for a monster picture, but so far he hasn’t sent any of that hostility my way. Poor guy’s chained to routine. My human says Pickles is a flight risk. To take care of business, he’s gotta wait on his human, get strapped into a leash, and march through a ritual called a walk.

I almost feel sorry for him. Almost. Me? I got it easy. My litter box is always ready, no curfew, no leash, no permission slip. Sure, the human used to clean it daily, now it’s more of an every-other-day gig. But it’s serviceable. A cat can work with it.

A Case of the “Flight Risk”

Funny thing—I’ve heard my human call me a flight risk. Claims he wanted a younger kitten so he could break bad habits early: counter-jumping, door-darting, the usual wrap sheet. Then there’s the constant comparison to Goofus, the sainted feline from his past. Supposedly, Goofus never touched countertops, never bolted for the door.

Yeah, right. Newsflash, human: Goofus just had the sense not to do it in front of you. Every cat runs their own angles. I’m no different. Only difference is, I don’t hide my game.

The Verdict

So here I am, filed under “flight risk,” while Pickles plays the real prisoner. That’s life in the neighborhood—a dog on a leash, a cat accused, and a human who thinks he’s got it all figured out.

But between you and me, the jury’s still out.

—Luna 🐾

Stay Connected! 👍 📸 Follow me on Instagram

As an Amazon associate, my human earns from eligible purchases. Prices and availability are subject to change. Check the relevant Amazon site for current details.

Continue Reading
0
Luno's Journal

Journal Entry — The day everything changed

By on Thursday, July 24, 2025
Black-and-white photo of Luno the black cat detective in noir style, sitting upright and looking straight ahead.

The human calls this candid. I call it blackmail.

Life Behind Bars

The joint stank of bleach and bad air. The AC rattled like a busted fan in some flop-house office, trying but failing to clear the stink. That’s where I was — a two-bit kitten doing time in a steel-bar kennel. Then the warden walked in with a human close behind.

I didn’t catch the conversation at first. Didn’t need to. This was my one chance to bust out, so I laid it on thick. Wide eyes, tiny meows, claws hooked on the bars like I had a story to tell. The kind of performance that could turn heads in a lineup. And sure enough, it worked. The human bent down, gave me a look.

That’s when I heard it. He wanted a female — said he’d seen a couple of dames on the website. Trouble was, the warden told him those weren’t available for another month. Then she tapped my cage file. Sunset Cove — Female.

“You can have her today,” she said.

“This is a female?” the human asked again.

“Yes,” the warden replied, steady as a lie detector with the cord yanked.

I almost choked on the punch line. Sunset Cove was my file name. And I was a boy. Either it was sloppy paperwork or a con in broad daylight, but the human bought it. The warden even added color: me and a sibling found in a cardboard box, abandoned in an apartment lot. I barely remember it. When you’re two and a half months old, a week ago feels like ancient history.

The Paper Trail

They moved me into another cardboard box — this one with air holes, like prison transport with a view. The ride was rough, but I kept my ears open. At the clerk’s desk, the human spoke first. “Her name’s Luna,” he said, like it was ink drying on a confession.

The clerk didn’t even blink. “As far as we’re concerned, this file will always be Sunset Cove. That’s what’s on record, and that’s what’s in the chip.”

So there it was. Sunset Cove — the name on my jacket, stamped permanent. Luna — the alias my human chose, the cover I’d be wearing for the job. One name for the file, one name for the street. And me? Just a boy playing the part of a girl in a long con I didn’t ask for.

The Escape Ride

The transport box rattled as the car pulled away. I cried, loud enough to shake the night, but the human whispered soft promises through the holes. For the first time, it didn’t feel like a lie. Maybe, just maybe, I could trust this one.

A New Territory

The joint he brought me to was smaller than I’d like, but good enough to stake a claim. Didn’t take long before another sap — his brother — stumbled in, said he was there to fix the bathroom faucet.

That’s when I cased the strangest room. A porcelain chair with a water bowl in the seat. I leaned in for a sip, but the human slammed the lid shut and barked “no.” I don’t like that word.

Then I found the prize — a giant oval bowl on the floor. Perfect racetrack. I ran circles around it until the human scooped me up and locked the door. Said he was worried I’d mistake it for a litter box. Who did he think he was dealing with? I’ve been working litter boxes since day one.

The First Case File

So that’s how it started. Sunset Cove on paper. Luna in the human’s eyes. And me, undercover in my own story.

The digs had food, toys, and a human who needed training more than I did. I didn’t know what tomorrow’s case would bring, but I knew this much — today was the day everything changed.

—Luna 🐾

Stay Connected! 👍 📸 Follow me on Instagram

As an Amazon associate, my human earns from eligible purchases. Prices and availability are subject to change. Check the relevant Amazon site for current details.

Continue Reading
0