you can't eat that!
1:56 PM Eastern Time
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Stone soup
I think there is some kind of VAST CONSPIRACY in my house.
My moms are usually preoccupied with KEEPING THINGS OUTSIDE OF ME. But in the past couple of weeks, they have been preoccupied with KEEPING THINGS INSIDE OF ME.
This is horribly confusing.
I will admit that I had been puking quite a bit. I was taken to the vet twice in four days because of the puking. Also I was losing weight, and even I thought this was a bad thing. The vet asked after my activity level. My moms informed him that LETHARGY IS NOT AMONG THIS CAT'S PROBLEMS.
After a humiliating series of pokes, prods, and probes, the vet decided that perhaps the puking was the result of EATING TOO FAST. He declared that I needed to take some pills for several days, which is bad enough in itself. But also he instructed my moms to PUT ROCKS ON MY FOOD.
The first time my moms loaded up my dish with rocks, I was sorely upset. I yelled at them to GET THESE ROCKS OFF MY BREAKFAST but they would have none of it. They stood by and watched as I excavated my breakfast. This was extremely hard work, and not at all befitting of a predator. I have tried scolding my moms many times since, but still they will have none of it and I suppose I should just RESIGN MYSELF TO MY FATE.
But there is a silver lining in all of this. The vet recommended that I get only a little bit of my meals at a time, even with the rocks on top. My moms have split my meals in half, which means that I get TWO BREAKFASTS and TWO DINNERS. I am not sure whether my moms have figured out how happy it makes me to be fed FOUR TIMES A DAY.
I probably should not tell them. Given that there is a VAST CONSPIRACY AFOOT, any expression of joy on my part might well result in a return to twice-a-day feedings.
My moms are usually preoccupied with KEEPING THINGS OUTSIDE OF ME. But in the past couple of weeks, they have been preoccupied with KEEPING THINGS INSIDE OF ME.
This is horribly confusing.
I will admit that I had been puking quite a bit. I was taken to the vet twice in four days because of the puking. Also I was losing weight, and even I thought this was a bad thing. The vet asked after my activity level. My moms informed him that LETHARGY IS NOT AMONG THIS CAT'S PROBLEMS.
After a humiliating series of pokes, prods, and probes, the vet decided that perhaps the puking was the result of EATING TOO FAST. He declared that I needed to take some pills for several days, which is bad enough in itself. But also he instructed my moms to PUT ROCKS ON MY FOOD.
The first time my moms loaded up my dish with rocks, I was sorely upset. I yelled at them to GET THESE ROCKS OFF MY BREAKFAST but they would have none of it. They stood by and watched as I excavated my breakfast. This was extremely hard work, and not at all befitting of a predator. I have tried scolding my moms many times since, but still they will have none of it and I suppose I should just RESIGN MYSELF TO MY FATE.But there is a silver lining in all of this. The vet recommended that I get only a little bit of my meals at a time, even with the rocks on top. My moms have split my meals in half, which means that I get TWO BREAKFASTS and TWO DINNERS. I am not sure whether my moms have figured out how happy it makes me to be fed FOUR TIMES A DAY.
I probably should not tell them. Given that there is a VAST CONSPIRACY AFOOT, any expression of joy on my part might well result in a return to twice-a-day feedings.
Labels: trauma
2:29 PM Eastern Time
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Cat burglar
For dinner the other night, my mom with the comfy lap made some lasagna.
It is a well-known fact that CATS LIKE LASAGNA. I hear here is a comic strip about just this very topic, which I would love to read on a regular basis. But I AM NOT ALLOWED NEAR THE NEWSPAPER because inevitably my attempts to READ THE PAPER turn into attempts to EAT THE PAPER, and this is an activity of which my moms do not approve.
My mom with the comfy lap makes some fantastic lasagna. I tried to convince my mom that she should give me a little bit, because after all SHARING IS CARING, but she would have none of that. For a few minutes I sat at her feet and made it quite clear that I was COVETING HER LASAGNA.
I was SUMMARILY IGNORED.
But then the telephone rang, and my mom went off to answer it. It was her own mom. My moms and I very much enjoy talking to our moms, but still I think I have it better because I have TWO MOMS to talk to, whereas they each only have ONE.
My mom with the comfy lap did not realize that her wandering off made for UNATTENDED LASAGNA. Thus I had the perfect opportunity to take my tithe.
I jumped up on the table as quietly as I could, as I know this to be a place where I am NOT ALLOWED. I stopped for a moment to determine whether it was safe to proceed. My mom with the comfy lap was still in the other room, BLISSFULLY UNAWARE of my little sortie.
I intended just to bite off a small piece of noodle, but EXCITEMENT GOT THE BETTER OF ME and I could not stop myself from TAKING THE ENTIRE LAYER. I became somewhat nervous and started to second-guess my ability to complete my mission silently, so I returned to the floor and tried to eat my loot as quickly as I could.
Unfortunately, my mom with the comfy lap heard my hasty slurping. And it was all BAD CAT! CATS DO NOT GET TO SWIPE LASAGNA OFF MY PLATE! and I got bopped on the nose. I ran upstairs to wallow in my guilt, and also to savor the last bits of tomato sauce on my face.
Curses! Foiled again.
It is a well-known fact that CATS LIKE LASAGNA. I hear here is a comic strip about just this very topic, which I would love to read on a regular basis. But I AM NOT ALLOWED NEAR THE NEWSPAPER because inevitably my attempts to READ THE PAPER turn into attempts to EAT THE PAPER, and this is an activity of which my moms do not approve.My mom with the comfy lap makes some fantastic lasagna. I tried to convince my mom that she should give me a little bit, because after all SHARING IS CARING, but she would have none of that. For a few minutes I sat at her feet and made it quite clear that I was COVETING HER LASAGNA.
I was SUMMARILY IGNORED.
But then the telephone rang, and my mom went off to answer it. It was her own mom. My moms and I very much enjoy talking to our moms, but still I think I have it better because I have TWO MOMS to talk to, whereas they each only have ONE.
My mom with the comfy lap did not realize that her wandering off made for UNATTENDED LASAGNA. Thus I had the perfect opportunity to take my tithe.I jumped up on the table as quietly as I could, as I know this to be a place where I am NOT ALLOWED. I stopped for a moment to determine whether it was safe to proceed. My mom with the comfy lap was still in the other room, BLISSFULLY UNAWARE of my little sortie.
I intended just to bite off a small piece of noodle, but EXCITEMENT GOT THE BETTER OF ME and I could not stop myself from TAKING THE ENTIRE LAYER. I became somewhat nervous and started to second-guess my ability to complete my mission silently, so I returned to the floor and tried to eat my loot as quickly as I could.
Unfortunately, my mom with the comfy lap heard my hasty slurping. And it was all BAD CAT! CATS DO NOT GET TO SWIPE LASAGNA OFF MY PLATE! and I got bopped on the nose. I ran upstairs to wallow in my guilt, and also to savor the last bits of tomato sauce on my face.
Curses! Foiled again.
Labels: people food
3:47 PM Eastern Time
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Paging the cat
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I believe that the best time for investigation is the night. Of course, I do not need much light to see. So I spend much of the day time sleeping, or rather STORING UP ENERGY FOR MY NIGHTTIME EXCURSIONS, and then once my moms are in bed I go about my work.This arrangement makes my moms very nervous. Unlike me, they are not nocturnal. Thus, when they go to bed at night, they expect to stay in bed until the morning. If I make too much suspicious noise, one of my moms will come and chase me out of whatever I was doing. But it's not always the same one of my moms. Usually it is my mom with the tasty hair, but sometimes she convinces my other mom, the one with the comfy lap, to come after me.
Often I will curl up with my moms when they get into bed, but then after a few minutes I will depart for my prowl. Other times I finish whatever it is I am doing upstairs before I come down to join them. If I am not there right when they get into bed, my moms will page me. At first it is all JOOOOOO-SIEEEEE! which is how my mom with the comfy lap does it. And then it is all WHEEEEEEEERE'S JOSIE? from my mom with the tasty hair. I am proud to say that I come when I am called, but at night it has to be my mom with the comfy lap first and then my mom with the tasty hair. Sometimes I can hear my mom with the comfy lap being all HEY, YOU CALL HER, SHE LIKES THE WAY YOU DO IT BETTER, but really it has nothing to do with preference and everything to do with routine.
So I dutifully come to hang out with my moms on the bed, and sometimes this includes a bit of MARCHING BACK AND FORTH before settling. But then I hear the call of the wild paper bags, and I go off to pursue solitary activities.
I think, though, that my moms must be able to read my mind. Before I even begin my explorations, it is all CAT, COME BACK HERE! I DON'T TRUST YOU! or CAT, I KNOW YOU ARE GOING TO THE KITCHEN TO BE BAD. And because I feel obligated to come when I am called, I stop what I am doing and return to the bed for a little while.
Most of the time I get antsy and have to be called back to the bed at least two more times before I am able to proceed without interruption. But when I am feeling exceptionally patient, I snuggle with my moms until they fall asleep, and then I go to pick up where I left off. What my moms don't know about my nocturnal investigations can't hurt them, unless I PUKE UP THE SUBJECTS EARLY IN THE MORNING and thereby cause them much irritation.
Labels: modus operandi
