RIP, Ropy (aka Ropeburn Lee Grinder Jensen). 20+ years is a hell of a run.

Ok…a little background first.  I decided a while back that I needed to build an outfeed table for my tablesaw so I could handle large 4′ x 8′ panels by myself a little easier.  Well, I finally got around to starting on it.  I bought some nice birch plywood to build it out of.  The first portion of the table needed to be glued up and clamped.  Anyway, the glue that I was using needed 50 degrees or higher temps for it to properly cure….so, I cut my plywood, brought it into my kitchen, glued it and clamped it.

Day two:  The first chunk of the outfeed table is still in the place it was the night before…on my kitchen floor on newspapers.  The glue is now dry but I haven’t had a chance to move it.  I’m in the living room checking my email and I hear the tell-tale sound of the cat….puking….in the kitchen.  He has a thing for yaking on our rugs – especially when they’ve just came out of the dryer and are nice and clean.  I proceded to go out to the kitchen, expecting to have to throw a rug in the washing machine.  NO….HELL NO…  Instead, that little S.O.B. puke directly on my glued up panel I had sitting on the floor.  The real great thing was that the side with the countersunk screw holes is the one facing up…and the one he puked on.   So, not only do I have cat puke on a nice piece of cabinet grade plywood….I have cat puke in the little countersunk screw holes….which, let me tell you, is just a JOY to clean out!  $#*&@!!$#%^ CAT!!!!  He was banished to the basement after that little incident for a couple hours.

Ropy’s favorite part about the holidays has to be the green bean casserole.  I’m pretty sure he has absolutely no idea that he’s actually a cat…or, he was figuring…”this will make for some interesting colored puke later!”

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The latest news in Ropeburn’s digestive expulsions came on Sunday. I got out of bed and fed the cat and because Ropeburn feels as if he’s famished, he proceeded to inhale his food at record pace. Later that morning, I went upstairs and found the first pile of yarf in the hallway. My bare foot found the other pile in the bedroom… He hid in the basement.

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Ok…Lightning does strike twice. This latest stomach evacuation has tied his previous best. It’s 7:15 am on Saturday, November 18th. I’m leaving for Green Bay for the Packers/Patriots game at 9 am. The alarm clock is set to go off at 7:20. All of a sudden, 5 minutes before my alarm is set to go off, I’m abruptly awoken to the sound of full body heaves. For a SECOND time, Ropeburn is on my chest, lining up his shot. Before I can do anything, he’s puked on me. I didn’t have time to push him off the bed before it happened, but I did have time to grab him by the scruff of his neck and throw him across the room before he could leave the scene. Ropeburn landed on the other side of the room by the bedroom window, where he puked again. I was going to take a picture for this site but was entirely too pissed to do so. The 5 minutes that he robbed me of might have well been 2 hours. Bastard!