you can't eat that!
5:02 PM Eastern Time
Sunday, April 23, 2006
Adolescent rebellion
My moms each have a little table on their side of the bed. My one mom, with the snuggly lap, has just a plain table that she keeps some stuff on. (She used to have a glorious pile of stuff on there, but then my other mom made her clean it all up and thereby RUINED ALL MY EARLY-MORNING FUN.) My other mom, with the delicious hair, has a full-fledged nightstand with a drawer. There are all kinds of fun things in this drawer, like my hairball candy and my toothpaste and my catnip and most of all my brush. I get so excited when this drawer opens, even though it's usually my one mom looking for something to tie back all her yummy hair with and NOT ANYTHING FOR ME.
Last night my mom with the snuggly lap opened the drawer and took out my brush. I know the brush is mainly for my back and my sides, but what I really like is having my face brushed. My moms sometimes say that I am a self-brushing cat because they can just hold the brush still and I will RUB MY FACE ALL OVER IT and drool in ecstasy. They also say I am a self-petting cat because they can just hold their hand still and I will RUB MY HEAD ALL OVER IT and drool in ecstasy, but honestly I like the face-brushing much better.
I got a little carried away with the self-brushing last night, I guess, because all of a sudden my mom with the snuggly lap STOPPED THE BRUSHING and called to my mom with the delicious hair about WHAT DO WE DO IF THE CAT IS BLEEDING? My mom with the delicious hair got all worried and ran into the room to see what was going on, and my other mom said THE CAT CUT HER CHIN ON THE BRUSH and then they were poking at me under the chin to see what exactly I'd done.
My mom with the delicious hair got out some stuff in a tube, which at first I thought was hairball candy, and so naturally I got all excited even though I was freaked out about the fact that THE BRUSHING HAD STOPPED and my moms were worried. Sadly, it was not hairball candy. Instead it was something I've seen my moms put on their own minor injuries, and the same stuff my mom put on the back of my ears that time that time she was really stressed out and I caught her stress and started scratching the backs of my ears all the time. So my mom with the delicious hair put this stuff under my chin, where I couldn't lick it off. Not that I would want to, anyway, because it doesn't taste that great.
My moms were going on about how THE CAT DOESN'T KNOW MODERATION (which is true; witness my tendency to eat plants and barf them up) and how CATS DON'T NEED FACIAL PIERCINGS.
This I take issue with.
Although in human years I am in my mid-thirties, WHICH MAKES ME OLDER THAN MY MOMS, I am enjoying a belated adolescent rebellion. I have been trashing the house when my moms are not home (and sometimes when they are), indulging in my drugs of choice whenever possible, and lapsing in my chores (eating the bugs). I think I am old enough now to decide for myself about getting a piercing or two.
But my moms NEVER LET ME DO ANYTHING ANYWAY.
Last night my mom with the snuggly lap opened the drawer and took out my brush. I know the brush is mainly for my back and my sides, but what I really like is having my face brushed. My moms sometimes say that I am a self-brushing cat because they can just hold the brush still and I will RUB MY FACE ALL OVER IT and drool in ecstasy. They also say I am a self-petting cat because they can just hold their hand still and I will RUB MY HEAD ALL OVER IT and drool in ecstasy, but honestly I like the face-brushing much better.
I got a little carried away with the self-brushing last night, I guess, because all of a sudden my mom with the snuggly lap STOPPED THE BRUSHING and called to my mom with the delicious hair about WHAT DO WE DO IF THE CAT IS BLEEDING? My mom with the delicious hair got all worried and ran into the room to see what was going on, and my other mom said THE CAT CUT HER CHIN ON THE BRUSH and then they were poking at me under the chin to see what exactly I'd done.
My mom with the delicious hair got out some stuff in a tube, which at first I thought was hairball candy, and so naturally I got all excited even though I was freaked out about the fact that THE BRUSHING HAD STOPPED and my moms were worried. Sadly, it was not hairball candy. Instead it was something I've seen my moms put on their own minor injuries, and the same stuff my mom put on the back of my ears that time that time she was really stressed out and I caught her stress and started scratching the backs of my ears all the time. So my mom with the delicious hair put this stuff under my chin, where I couldn't lick it off. Not that I would want to, anyway, because it doesn't taste that great.
My moms were going on about how THE CAT DOESN'T KNOW MODERATION (which is true; witness my tendency to eat plants and barf them up) and how CATS DON'T NEED FACIAL PIERCINGS.
This I take issue with.
Although in human years I am in my mid-thirties, WHICH MAKES ME OLDER THAN MY MOMS, I am enjoying a belated adolescent rebellion. I have been trashing the house when my moms are not home (and sometimes when they are), indulging in my drugs of choice whenever possible, and lapsing in my chores (eating the bugs). I think I am old enough now to decide for myself about getting a piercing or two.
But my moms NEVER LET ME DO ANYTHING ANYWAY.
9:54 PM Eastern Time
Sunday, April 16, 2006
Cole slaw
This morning my one mom (with the comfy lap) woke up my other mom (with the tasty hair) earlier than usual. My mom with the good lap had to go to work earlier. Apparently some guy came back after no one saw him for three days, which is within normal limits for a cat, but for humans it's weird. Which means my mom with the good lap gets up earlier, which means I GET BREAKFAST EARLY.
So my mom with the good lap woke up my mom with the tasty hair and gave her a container of stuff. I know from Charlie and Lucy that this stuff isn't good to eat, so I didn't bother so much with it.
But then I saw that it had COLE SLAW IN IT, and I got very interested.
I got booted off the bed by my mom with the tasty hair. Then my mom with the good lap picked up my food dish (it was, after all, TIME FOR BREAKFAST) and I followed her into the kitchen. But I only followed her just enough to make both my moms think that I was actually more interested in boring old turkey and giblets than in COLE SLAW. And I ran back and forth from the kitchen to the bedroom once or twice, just enough to make my moms still believe I was getting worked up for the turkey and giblets.
But then I JUMPED ON THE BED when my mom with the tasty hair was rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and I set about the cole slaw. I got a few good nibbles before my mom with the tasty hair GRABBED ME UNDER THE ARMPITS AND CARRIED ME TO THE KITCHEN. So I squirmed a lot, which usually works, but this morning it didn't.
The siren song of the cole slaw was PRACTICALLY UNBEARABLE but my moms didn't care. My mom with the good lap carried the turkey and giblets to the bedroom. My mom with the tasty hair carried me to the bedroom. Tragically, I forgot about the cole slaw JUST LONG ENOUGH FOR IT TO DISAPPEAR and all I had to eat were stupid turkey and giblets.
I do not think the cole slaw will come back in three days, because three days from now is when my moms take the paper snacks outside and I never see those again anyway.
I do not like this idea that suffering is a part of life. My moms each have their own idea about where suffering comes from. Personally, I think suffering comes from DENIAL OF COLE SLAW.
So my mom with the good lap woke up my mom with the tasty hair and gave her a container of stuff. I know from Charlie and Lucy that this stuff isn't good to eat, so I didn't bother so much with it.
But then I saw that it had COLE SLAW IN IT, and I got very interested.I got booted off the bed by my mom with the tasty hair. Then my mom with the good lap picked up my food dish (it was, after all, TIME FOR BREAKFAST) and I followed her into the kitchen. But I only followed her just enough to make both my moms think that I was actually more interested in boring old turkey and giblets than in COLE SLAW. And I ran back and forth from the kitchen to the bedroom once or twice, just enough to make my moms still believe I was getting worked up for the turkey and giblets.
But then I JUMPED ON THE BED when my mom with the tasty hair was rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and I set about the cole slaw. I got a few good nibbles before my mom with the tasty hair GRABBED ME UNDER THE ARMPITS AND CARRIED ME TO THE KITCHEN. So I squirmed a lot, which usually works, but this morning it didn't.
The siren song of the cole slaw was PRACTICALLY UNBEARABLE but my moms didn't care. My mom with the good lap carried the turkey and giblets to the bedroom. My mom with the tasty hair carried me to the bedroom. Tragically, I forgot about the cole slaw JUST LONG ENOUGH FOR IT TO DISAPPEAR and all I had to eat were stupid turkey and giblets.
I do not think the cole slaw will come back in three days, because three days from now is when my moms take the paper snacks outside and I never see those again anyway.
I do not like this idea that suffering is a part of life. My moms each have their own idea about where suffering comes from. Personally, I think suffering comes from DENIAL OF COLE SLAW.
Labels: household items
12:59 AM Eastern Time
Saturday, April 08, 2006
The good stuff
My moms have this friend. My one mom, with the tasty hair, says this friend is one of her best friends; they have known each other since pretty much the beginning of college. On the human calendar, that is eight and a half years. That was before I was even born. College appears to be some kind of institution where humans learn a lot of things but are not allowed to have cats. This, I think, is A VERY DUMB IDEA. Cats can teach humans a lot of things, like keeping track of time, personal hygiene, and public speaking.
But anyway, my moms' friend has two cats. This week she has been off visiting her own mom, so my moms have been PAYING ATTENTION TO OTHER CATS. This is largely okay with me, because these cats, Charlie and Lucy, are my friends.
Another reason this is largely okay with me is that Charlie and Lucy gave me some very valuable information. My moms went to visit Charlie and Lucy on Sunday afternoon, but then on Monday their car broke down, so they couldn't go over there again until they got the car back on Tuesday. This was TOTALLY UNACCEPTABLE. Charlie and Lucy were PRACTICALLY STARVING and had to implement EMERGENCY SUSTENANCE PLAN ALPHA in the meantime.
EMERGENCY SUSTENANCE PLAN ALPHA is extraordinarily simple: If you can get to it, try to eat it. This is how I survived on the streets in Ohio, before I was rescued, and I turned out all right.
Charlie and Lucy told me that they jumped up on the shelf where their mom keeps their food. They knocked the food container on the ground, but it LANDED UPSIDE DOWN ON ITS LID and so nothing came out. In desperation, they sampled a few of the other things on the shelf. Here is what they tried:
Charlie and Lucy said the stuff in the bag was fairly disgusting, although they had to sink their teeth into it a few times JUST TO BE SURE.
The things in the box weren't all that great either, at least not for eating. Charlie and Lucy said they made pretty good hockey pucks, though.
In the end Charlie and Lucy settled for some paper. I think this was a pretty good choice, given the alternatives. One morning last summer, my moms were so lazy about getting up that I had to EAT A BANK STATEMENT to save myself from the cruel clutches of empty-stomach death.
My moms have a lot of stuff like what was in that bag and what was in that box. So if I am ever again on THE BRINK OF STARVATION, I know at least not to eat those things. Cats can learn. Just not in that weird liberal-artsy way that humans like.
PS. My moms' car is fine now. I am glad, because I like their car. I only like it when it's moving, though, and I don't care one bit for it when it's moving into the parking lot at the place where I get FOREIGN OBJECTS STUCK UP MY BUTT.
But anyway, my moms' friend has two cats. This week she has been off visiting her own mom, so my moms have been PAYING ATTENTION TO OTHER CATS. This is largely okay with me, because these cats, Charlie and Lucy, are my friends.
Another reason this is largely okay with me is that Charlie and Lucy gave me some very valuable information. My moms went to visit Charlie and Lucy on Sunday afternoon, but then on Monday their car broke down, so they couldn't go over there again until they got the car back on Tuesday. This was TOTALLY UNACCEPTABLE. Charlie and Lucy were PRACTICALLY STARVING and had to implement EMERGENCY SUSTENANCE PLAN ALPHA in the meantime.
EMERGENCY SUSTENANCE PLAN ALPHA is extraordinarily simple: If you can get to it, try to eat it. This is how I survived on the streets in Ohio, before I was rescued, and I turned out all right.
Charlie and Lucy told me that they jumped up on the shelf where their mom keeps their food. They knocked the food container on the ground, but it LANDED UPSIDE DOWN ON ITS LID and so nothing came out. In desperation, they sampled a few of the other things on the shelf. Here is what they tried:
Charlie and Lucy said the stuff in the bag was fairly disgusting, although they had to sink their teeth into it a few times JUST TO BE SURE.The things in the box weren't all that great either, at least not for eating. Charlie and Lucy said they made pretty good hockey pucks, though.
In the end Charlie and Lucy settled for some paper. I think this was a pretty good choice, given the alternatives. One morning last summer, my moms were so lazy about getting up that I had to EAT A BANK STATEMENT to save myself from the cruel clutches of empty-stomach death.
My moms have a lot of stuff like what was in that bag and what was in that box. So if I am ever again on THE BRINK OF STARVATION, I know at least not to eat those things. Cats can learn. Just not in that weird liberal-artsy way that humans like.
PS. My moms' car is fine now. I am glad, because I like their car. I only like it when it's moving, though, and I don't care one bit for it when it's moving into the parking lot at the place where I get FOREIGN OBJECTS STUCK UP MY BUTT.
Labels: people food
