you can't eat that!

Forging friendships

2008-09-08T11:02:00.008-04:00

I do apologize for my absence of over three months. I have been lolling around the house, doing NOT MUCH OF ANYTHING, because IT IS SUMMER AND I AM A CAT.

However, I am very excited to report that I HAVE A NEW FRIEND. The kitten has finally taken an interest in me. And it is about time, if I do say so myself.

I had been trying for a long time to make friends with the kitten. I started out really slow and gentle, just hanging out in the same room with her. Mostly I did this while she slept because when she was awake she was VERY, VERY LOUD.

I claimed the rocking chair for this very purpose. This surprised my moms because normally I DO NOT LIKE THINGS THAT MOVE. Incidentally this is something of which my moms frequently take advantage. I will be sitting in the lap of one of my moms and then all of a sudden she will stir and THE LAP WILL GO AWAY and then I WILL DO THE SAME.

Anyway, then I got a little bolder and started in with the head-butting and other gestures of affection. But the kitten DID NOT CARE and plus I got scolded by my mom with the tasty hair. It was all CAT, STOP HEAD-BUTTING THE BABY and SHE IS TRYING TO NURSE NOW and DON'T YOU DARE TRY TO LICK THE BABY'S HEAD ESPECIALLY WHILE SHE IS NURSING.

Overall I felt very sad and rejected, even when we had some visitors (including My Favorite Person, a.k.a. the dad of my mom with the tasty hair) and I got lots of attention. Because really I just wanted the attention of the kitten.

So then I tried a new tactic which was to IMITATE THE KITTEN because I know that offspring of all kinds learn by imitation. I thought that maybe if she saw me ALL UP IN HER STUFF she would recognize me as one of her own.

This did not go over well with my moms. As usual it was all CAT, GET OUT OF THERE and THAT IS FOR BABIES, NOT FOR CATS!

But--OH FRABJOUS DAY!--recently the kitten has finally not only acknowledged my existence, but she has also started PLAYING WITH ME!

At first, I admit, I played HARD TO GET. But then I realized she was serious in her affections. She is very gentle and knows just how I like to be pet. She thinks I am the most fascinating thing in the world, WHICH OF COURSE I AM.

Being a cat, I am not gifted in the area of DELAYED GRATIFICATION.

But this was definitely worth the wait.

Hunger strike

2008-05-25T12:01:00.004-04:00

I apologize that I have not shared my BRILLIANT INSIGHTS in a very long time. Although the arrival of the kitten was initially not so much of a problem, I did get A LITTLE BIT BESIDE MYSELF and needed some time to sort out my feelings.

My moms took a little while to notice how BESIDE MYSELF I was because they were rather BESIDE THEMSELVES as well, what with the kitten's fussiness. The combination of the kitten's fussiness and my moms' overwhelmedness made me anxious as well. Sometimes I scratch my ears when I get anxious, but this time I stopped eating. (How unlike me, I know! but such was the extent of my BESIDE-MYSELF-EDNESS.)

So my mom with the comfy lap TOOK ME TO THE VET and I was of course poked and prodded and sampled and all that. I did not enjoy it one bit. But then, to test whether the problem was physical or emotional, the vet put a BIG BOWL OF PEOPLE TUNA in front of me.

The vet and my one mom concluded that the problem was very definitely emotional.

To entice me to eat, my moms mixed my food with PEOPLE TUNA for a while. This was all the enticement I needed. They hoped I would not notice that the ratio of cat food to PEOPLE TUNA was increasing, but I am WAY TOO SMART to be fooled like that, and also FAR TOO OBSERVANT WHERE PEOPLE TUNA IS INVOLVED. But I played dumb, and eventually my food was merely doused in PEOPLE TUNA JUICE.

Then some friends of my mom with the comfy lap brought my moms a BIG TASTY CHICKEN DINNER, and for a few days there was also CHICKEN and CHICKEN JUICE. I enjoyed that very much too.

I am feeling much better now that I am eating again. And plus I get more attention these days. The kitten is not so fussy anymore, which leaves more time for my moms to play with me. I like to come by while my mom with the tasty hair is feeding the kitten and softly nuzzle the kitten's head. My mom with the tasty hair sometimes BOOTS ME OFF THE BED for this, but if I am very gentle I am allowed to head-butt the kitten to my heart's content.

My moms warn me that CAT, SOMEDAY SOON THE BABY WILL WEIGH MORE THAN YOU AND THEN SHE WILL START PULLING YOUR TAIL, but at least for now I am feeling much better about my place in this family.

Set for life

2008-04-14T20:08:00.003-04:00

My mom with the tasty hair is very good at something my other mom, the one with the comfy lap, calls RECTIFYING THINGS. My mom with the tasty hair believes that THINGS SHOULD WORK RIGHT THE FIRST TIME and therefore when something does not work right the first time, she feels the need to FIX IT. And if it still does not work right the second time, my one mom can get pretty beside herself.

I can understand where my one mom is coming from. When it is time for my breakfast or my dinner, and my moms are not acknowledging my EXTREME HUNGER, I can get pretty beside myself. Before I resort to EMERGENCY SUSTENANCE PLAN ALPHA, I state my complaint very clearly and repeatedly. This, I gather, is the essence of RECTIFYING THINGS.

Shortly before the kitten arrived, my mom with the tasty hair decided it was time to address the matter of the IMPOSSIBLE-TO-OPEN CANS OF CAT FOOD. Iams had changed their recipe, which pleased me greatly, but they had also apparently changed the type of metal in the can, which displeased my moms and me alike. My mom with the tasty hair had especial difficulty with the cans in the morning. The pull-tab would come off without opening the can, and then she would have to use the can opener, and that take A VERITABLE ETERNITY and meanwhile I would be DYING OF STARVATION AT HER FEET. So one morning, while my other mom was still asleep, my one mom called up Iams to complain.

My mom with the tasty hair tells me that the Iams lady was very apologetic and asked her how many cans had given her problems. My mom estimated that it was about eighteen. So the Iams lady said she would send my mom some replacements. This was all very well and good, but then my mom with the comfy lap (when she finally woke up) was all SO ARE WE GETTING EIGHTEEN CANS OF FREE CAT FOOD THAT WE CAN'T OPEN? and my mom with the tasty hair was all WELL, PROBABLY, BUT FREE CAT FOOD IS FREE CAT FOOD.

I could not agree more.

Unfortunately, no free cat food was delivered to our house. However, EIGHTEEN COUPONS FOR FREE CAT FOOD were delivered to our house. My mom with the tasty hair was amused to see that each coupon was redeemable for AN ENTIRE CASE OF CAT FOOD. I did some quick calculation and realized that this totals TWO HUNDRED AND SIXTEEN CANS OF FREE CAT FOOD.

My mom with the comfy lap then went out to get some of this marvelous free cat food. She told my mom with the tasty hair that the cashier had been all WHAT IS UP WITH THESE FUNKY COUPONS? I HAVE SEEN A FEW OTHER PEOPLE WITH THEM. This amused my mom with the tasty hair even more. I guess RECTIFIERS flock together.

The kitten

2008-04-11T19:13:00.005-04:00

A little over a week ago, my moms DISAPPEARED FOR TWO DAYS and then CAME HOME WITH THE KITTEN. My mom with the tasty hair is now much smaller than she previously had been. I had actually been enjoying her lap for a few weeks prior, but then she WENT AND GOT RID OF THE PADDING.

To my moms' pleasant surprise, I do not really feel in competition with this little mewling thing. My favorite person in the whole world, also known as the dad of my mom with the tasty hair, is here, as is the mom of my mom with the tasty hair. I am pleased to be getting LOTS OF ATTENTION even though the kitten is getting more.

I am also COMPORTING MYSELF VERY NICELY, thank you, in my interactions with the kitten. Her hair smells very interesting, which I assume is not a coincidence given where she came from, but I AM NOT ALLOWED TO DO ANYTHING OTHER THAN SNIFF IT. This is somewhat frustrating for me, but I am being UTTERLY RESPECTFUL and have only tried to eat the kitten's hair once. My moms would claim I did this twice, but the second time was actually UNSOLICITED GROOMING.

Many people have asked my moms what the kitten will call them. My vote is for MOM WITH THE COMFY LAP and MOM WITH THE TASTY HAIR, but my moms say these are JUST TOO LONG. I don't know about that, though. Works just fine for me.

Culinary fusion

2008-01-31T21:10:00.000-05:00

This afternoon my mom with the tasty hair happened to witness a somewhat humiliating situation. She had come into the bedroom for something or other just as I was about to PUKE UP SOMETHING VILE. My mom with the tasty hair announced this impending event to my mom with the comfy lap just as I EXPELLED A RATHER NASTY MASS UPON THE CARPET.

My mom with the comfy lap offered to clean it up. Both my moms went about assembling the cleaning supplies. I meandered into the kitchen to bathe myself in an attempt to pretend that NOTHING WHATSOEVER HAD JUST OCCURRED, but I knew that my ruse was completely ineffective.

My mom with the comfy lap engaged in a quick game of CSI: CAT PUKE and discovered that there were two distinct sources of my gastric distress. (I could have told my moms this myself, if only they understood MEOWING.)

The first component was CASHEWS.

And it was all HONEY, HOW DID THE CAT GET INTO THE CASHEWS? and SHE MUST HAVE FOUND SOME WHEN I WAS MAKING THE CURRY and CAT, WHY DO YOU EAT CASHEWS OFF THE FLOOR? YOU DO NOT LIKE NUTS! and JUST BECAUSE IT FALLS ON THE FLOOR DOES NOT MEAN YOU HAVE TO EAT IT.

The second component was TAPE.

I think I should get at least a little bit of credit here. After all, the house is still full of CARDBOARD BOXES and those are covered in TAPE OF ALL KINDS which is just BEGGING TO BE SAMPLED.

But no, it was all DUMB CAT, WHY DO YOU PERSIST IN EATING TAPE? and CASHEWS AND TAPE ARE A REALLY DISGUSTING COMBINATION and THAT IS NOT HOW TO GET YOUR DINNER TO STICK TO YOUR RIBS, YOU SILLY BEAST!

Rest assured, I learned my lesson. Cashews and tape do not go well together at all. Next time I will EAT THEM SEPARATELY.

New digs

2008-01-24T22:11:00.001-05:00

After a TORMENTOUS, HELLISH WEEK IN THE CAR, my moms and I are finally in our new home. On our last night on the road we hung out with the parents of my mom with the tasty hair. This was much better than the MOTELS in which we'd been hanging out, and not just because my FAVORITE PERSON IN THE WORLD (i.e., the dad of my one mom) was there. The house was big and smelled of all kinds of interesting things. However, I quickly became OVERWHELMED and, as is my wont, RETREATED UNDER THE BED. I only came out for my moms and for my FAVORITE PERSON IN THE WORLD, who by the way was very excited to have me over for a short visit.

But soon we were in our new home, and once I was sure that my moms were not going to PICK ME UP AND TAKE ME ELSEWHERE again, I set about EXPLORING. This caused my moms much consternation because I had to be reminded multiple times that EVEN THOUGH THE SCENERY IS DIFFERENT, ALL OF THE RULES ARE THE SAME. I am still not allowed to do things like JUMP ON THE COUNTERS, SNACK ON PLASTIC BAGS, or LICK THE EMPTY TUNA CANS.

There are also new things I cannot do, like PLAY IN THE CLOSETS or SIT ON THE PIANO. Actually, I have never been allowed to sit on the piano, but I did not have trouble remembering this in our old house. But here the piano is right behind the couch, on which I am allowed to sit. I do not understand why, if the couch is touching the piano, permission to sit on the couch does not extend to the piano. I think maybe this is the basis of problems in WORLD GEOPOLITICS.

I also cannot PLAY IN THE PANTRY. This is truly a shame because in the pantry is the MOST MARVELOUS AMUSMENT PARK RIDE EVER. It is a cat-go-round. I know how to operate it myself, but I AM NOT ALLOWED. This prohibition has nothing to do with my height and everything to do with my FELINE NATURE.

Here I am being CAUGHT IN THE ACT:

There are other places to play in the pantry, but none of them is as fun as the cat-go-round.

As my moms are very well aware, I do not deal well with CLOSED DOORS. It does not matter what side of the door I am on. So I hang around and wait for the doors to OPEN, and then when they do, I just have to hope that my moms are PAYING ATTENTION TO SOMETHING OTHER THAN ME. This is not something I hope for very often. Just when the pantry door opens and the tune of the cat-go-round organ begins to resonate in my walnut-sized brain.

Home away from home

2008-01-05T19:58:00.000-05:00

I have been making myself at home in this place my moms call EXTENDED STAY. There are many interesting things to look at around here. Many of them are located UNDER THE BED. However, many of them are of the AVIAN KIND and are therefore located ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WINDOW.

Also, my mom with the comfy lap has been ACTING A LITTLE WEIRD of late. From her conversations with my mom with the tasty hair, I gather that she has A LOT OF GOODBYES TO SAY and she does not like to do things like that. My mom with the tasty hair has been saying all kinds of nice things to my other mom, in an effort to help her feel better (which I understand is WHAT SHE IS TRAINED TO DO).

I thought I might also be able to help. So I showed my one mom what I do when I am UPSET or FRUSTRATED. I was pleased to observe that she seemed to benefit from it.

Exodus

2008-01-04T00:54:00.000-05:00

There has been a lot of UPHEAVAL in my world.

First, the kitten is taking up a lot more room inside my mom with the tasty hair. I am definitely no longer allowed on her lap. This is very unfortunate because HER LAP IS GETTING A WHOLE LOT MORE COMFY. Thinking that perhaps my mom with the comfy lap would likewise acquire tastier hair, I have been sampling her hair every now and then. But her hair still tastes the same.

Second, my moms spent a lot of time over the past several weeks PACKING THINGS IN BOXES. This disrupted my routine greatly. All of a sudden the house was full of BOXES where formerly it was full of PLACES FOR ME TO BE. The upside of this was that I was allowed to be in places where formerly I was not allowed to be. My moms initially attempted to enforce all the normal rules, but soon they decided IT WAS FUTILE BECAUSE WE WERE LEAVING.

I tried to make friends with the BOXES. I like to show my affection by EATING THE TAPE OFF THEM, but this whole thing was just too stressful and I could not even concentrate on that.

Earlier this week MOVERS TOOK ALL THE STUFF AWAY. I was shuttled back and forth between the bathroom and my BIG WIRE CAGE so that I would not get in their way. That day was full of all my biggest stressors--NOISE, STRANGERS, CHANGES IN MY ENVIRONMENT, and THE VACUUM CLEANER. But I was not the only one who was traumatized. Neither of my moms does well with CHANGE either.

After the movers were done we went to this place which my moms call EXTENDED STAY. My moms are not too fond of this lodging, but at least they are more relaxed and THAT MAKES ME RELAXED TOO. I am told this is our home for a week, and then we will be going to a place called MASSACHUSETTS. I have never seen MASSACHUSETTS. Apparently MASSACHUSETTS has a lot of snow, which makes my mom with the tasty hair very happy. I remember snow from when we lived in OHIO. I used to like to watch the little white bugs fall from the sky. But I was never able to catch them, because I was INSIDE and they were OUTSIDE.

So I am pretty sure there is a LONG CAR TRIP IN MY FUTURE. I like car trips, as long as they do not terminate at the vet. I like to hang out in my BIG WIRE CAGE and watch the trucks out the back windshield, but mostly I like to sleep. This will be my second LONG CAR TRIP ever, but this time we will get to visit the parents of my mom with the tasty hair. I am very excited about this. My first LONG CAR TRIP did not involve any other members of my FAN CLUB. With this to look forward to, I might almost be okay with hiding under a different bed every night for a week.

Catquake

2007-10-20T23:21:00.001-04:00

My mom with the tasty hair is quite frightened of EARTHQUAKES. Personally I don't see what all the fuss is about. The house wiggles a bit, but SO DOES MY POSTERIOR WHEN I AM ABOUT TO POUNCE and so I don't see why the house shouldn't shake it a little every now and then.

When there is an earthquake, my mom with the tasty hair latches on to my mom with the comfy lap. Then my mom with the comfy lap says soothing things and makes my other mom feel better. I do not think this is fair. When I latch on to either of my moms, it is all JEEZ, CAT, WHY ARE YOU BEING SO CLINGY? and GO FIND A FUZZY TO HUNT and I WOULD LIKE MY LEG BACK NOW, PLEASE.

Sometimes my mom with the tasty hair is so hypervigilant about earthquakes that SHE THINKS THERE IS ONE WHEN THERE IS NOT. Usually this happens when the neighbors slam the door or when my mom with the comfy lap is JUMPING UP AND DOWN elsewhere in the house. This is decidedly NOT PERMITTED but my other mom does it anyway, for she has LEARNED FROM THE BEST regarding PROHIBITED ACTIVITIES.

Last night I was doing some INVESTIGATING upstairs while my moms were downstairs. I knocked over a small pile of things COMPLETELY BY ACCIDENT, and my mom with the tasty hair thought it was an earthquake. So she latched on to my other mom, who said soothing things to her like IT WAS NOT AN EARTHQUAKE, HONEY, IT WAS THE CAT and LET'S GO UPSTAIRS TO SEE WHAT THE CAT DID. But my mom with the tasty hair was too scared to go upstairs, so she got some more soothing things said to her.

My mom with the comfy lap came upstairs and found absolutely nothing amiss. So they went on the computer to see if there had really been an earthquake. WHICH THERE HADN'T BEEN.

My moms were very confused.

Somewhere upstairs there is still a pile of things that I knocked over. I hope my moms do not find it. Because then I will surely get a very not soothing TALKING-TO.

Lap time

2007-10-19T12:48:00.000-04:00

My mom with the comfy lap is, once again, doing a lot of HOMEWORK. This means that her comfy lap is frequently available to me as a place to sit.

However, sometimes she does her homework at the kitchen table, which is a place where I am DEFINITELY NOT ALLOWED. My moms say that I am not permitted on any piece of furniture which is not upholstered, which means that EVERYTHING IN THE KITCHEN IS OFF-LIMITS. But the little noises that her computer makes upon starting up are like a siren call to me. Whenever I hear those little clicks and whirrs, I dash to wherever she is because it usually means LAP TIME IS COMING.

But when she is doing her homework at the kitchen table, I know I am not allowed to jump into her lap. So I sit at her feet and meow plaintively. Sometimes I even put a tentative paw on her knee, just to remind her that I AM THERE AND WANTING LAP TIME.

Sometimes my mom with the comfy lap will get tired of my begging and will actually give in. She will take her homework to the couch, and then I will settle in her lap for a nice cuddly snooze. And my mom with the tasty hair will be all I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU ARE REINFORCING THE CAT even though she is really quite amused by the whole business.

But my mom with the tasty hair has started using my other mom's computer. It makes the same lovely clicks and whirrs when it starts up, but I don't come running to sit in her lap. I know I am not allowed on her lap anymore, on account of the KITTEN. So I will sit next to her and STARE HER DOWN, or I will climb up behind her head and NIBBLE ON HER SCALP; but I will not sit in her lap the way I would if my other mom were there with the computer instead.

Sometimes I get confused when my one mom is doing homework in the kitchen without her computer. I will come and request LAP TIME until I realize that the computer (WHICH IS AN INTEGRAL PART OF THIS ACTIVITY) is not there. Then I quickly change tactics and start meowing at my other mom, who also does not have the computer, even though I do not want to sit in her lap.

Alas, my moms are onto me. For they are all HEY, I THINK THE CAT DOESN'T WANT US TO REALIZE THAT SHE JUST FIGURED OUT THAT THE COMPUTER IS NOT HERE. But then my mom with the tasty hair will TOSS SOME TREATS AT ME, and it is all good.

Kittens

2007-09-27T22:49:00.000-04:00

My one mom, with the tasty hair, is GOING TO HAVE A KITTEN.

Many people have asked my moms how I feel about this. I am pleased that they are concerned about my well-being. After all, next April I will be no longer be the CENTER OF ATTENTION. I will instead be DISPLACED BY A LITTLE MEWLING THING.

To be honest, I am not capable of that much forethought. I know the kitten's arrival is on the horizon, but so is breakfast tomorrow, and as tomorrow is a lot sooner than April I think I shall concern myself with breakfast instead.

The one thing about which I am a little peeved is that I am no longer permitted to TREAD UPON MY ONE MOM'S STOMACH. This has been going on for several weeks and I do not expect the situation to improve any time soon. I used to be able to walk across her stomach, to knead it lovingly, and to use it as a springboard. But no more. I suppose I have been DISPLACED ALREADY.

I had KITTENS once myself, before I met my moms. This was while I was still LIVING ON THE STREETS and MOSTLY STARVING. In fact, I had FOUR KITTENS, but only two survived. (I am told that that they look just like me. Lucky kittens!)

My one mom, on the other hand, is only having ONE KITTEN. And I hope it does not develop a habit of PULLING ON MY TAIL.

Finger-lickin' good

2007-08-22T22:50:00.000-04:00

First of all I must offer sincere apologies for my LENGTHY ABSENCE. I have been very busy. I would tell you all of the things I have been doing, but then my moms might find out and I WOULD BE IN BIG TROUBLE.

Also I would like to mention that I have now lived with my moms for MORE THAN FIVE YEARS. Except for this whole discipline thing, they do take very good care of me and so I think I will stick around for a while longer. Of course, I would stick around even if I thought otherwise of my moms; and this is because I am terrified of OUTSIDE.

And I am happy to report that I no longer need ROCKS ON MY FOOD. My moms went away for a week and LEFT ME AT THE VET. They did not always put the rocks on my food, but then it turned out I DO NOT NEED THEM ANYMORE. I am trying to convince my moms that my improvement is directly due to being LEFT AT THE VET FOR A WEEK but I worry that they might ship me off every time they think some behavior modification is in order.

In other news I tried to pilfer some CHICKEN recently. My mom with the comfy lap had a BIRTHDAY a few weeks ago. She had a party, but I was not invited. This suited me just fine because the party was OUTSIDE, of which (as previously mentioned) I am terrified. After the party there was a lot of leftover raw CHICKEN in the refrigerator and my mom with the comfy lap was getting ready to go away for a few days. My mom with the tasty hair does not eat any meat and so she was all HONEY, WILL YOU COOK UP THE DRUMSTICKS BEFORE YOU GO AWAY? YOU CAN PUT THEM IN THE FREEZER which my mom with the comfy lap thought was a pretty good idea. But then my mom with the tasty hair was all WELL, I CAN'T TAKE CREDIT FOR THAT IDEA; IT WAS ACTUALLY MY MOM'S SUGGESTION. This was still okay with my mom with the comfy lap because my other mom's mom is cool.

So my mom with the comfy lap cooked up a lot of CHICKEN DRUMSTICKS. She gave me a little piece in my dish. It was still somewhat hot and so I had to FLING IT AROUND A BIT for purposes of temperature normalization. I was very pleased to discover that my one mom had brushed the drumsticks with BARBEQUE SAUCE which is my all-time favorite condiment other than the water in the tuna fish cans.

Then my moms went off to look at some stuff on the internet. I went in the kitchen to see what there was to see. And I saw that there were MILLIONS OF DRUMSTICKS COOLING ON TOP OF THE STOVE. Luckily I found the one of which my mom with the comfy lap had given me a sample. The rest of it was obviously intended for me, so I took it.

My moms came bounding into the kitchen and it was all BAD CAT! YOU DON'T GET THE REST OF THE DRUMSTICK! and YES, BUT ISN'T SHE CLEVER TO TAKE THE ONE WE GAVE HER A PIECE OF? and OKAY, SHE IS CLEVER BUT SHE IS STILL VERY BAD! I zoomed upstairs to lick the last bits of barbeque-basted chicken from my lips.

This, I think, is GROSSLY UNFAIR. Only one of my moms will be eating all those FROZEN DRUMSTICKS and I think I could do them a great service by helping out. So I think my moms need some improvement in the area of SHARING. Maybe they should go SPEND A WEEK AT THE VET.

Self-service

2007-05-15T14:51:00.000-04:00

My mom with the comfy lap left the house rather early this morning. I heard her tell my mom with the tasty hair (who was still very much asleep) that I WILL MISS YOU TONIGHT, which leads me to believe that she going someplace other than wherever it is she usually goes during the day.

Also she was PACKING A SUITCASE. I do not like it when PACKING A SUITCASE occurs because it means NO MOMS FOR A WHILE. But it was only my one mom, with the comfy lap, who was PACKING A SUITCASE. My other mom (with the tasty hair), as previously mentioned, was busy SLEEPING.

My mom with the tasty hair slept a lot longer than she usually does in the morning. I think she just did not know that I HAD NOT BEEN FED before my other mom left the house. For if she had known this, she would have awoken earlier and REMEDIED THE SITUATION IMMEDIATELY.

While my mom with the tasty hair was still fast asleep, I went into the kitchen to investigate my options. And I discovered that my mom with the comfy lap had made herself some breakfast. This would have been two pieces of TOAST, had she not been in such a rush to go wherever it was she was going with her suitcase. In her haste it seems my one mom FORGOT ABOUT HER BREAKFAST.

I would NEVER do a thing like that.

Of course, I am not one to let things go to waste. I hopped up on the counter, removed a piece of TOAST from the toaster, and retreated to the floor to have my way with it.

When my mom with the tasty hair finally woke up, she was very confused as to why I was so quiet. Normally I am EXTREMELY VOCAL in the morning, on account of my hunger. She went into the kitchen to determine whether my other mom had fed me. And then she found the remains of my TOAST.

I suppose she was still somewhat asleep, as it was not all BAD CAT! CATS DO NOT EAT TOAST! like I was expecting. Instead she found it very funny. And then she called my mom with the comfy lap and informed her that THE CAT TOOK YOUR BREAKFAST OUT OF THE TOASTER FOR YOU.

Usually I would get in BIG TROUBLE for something like this. But my moms (being human rather than feline) can be unpredictable sometimes.

Two dinners! (Or, How I fooled my moms)

2007-05-11T14:00:00.000-04:00

Last night my one mom, with the tasty hair, went out with Charlie and Lucy's mom. My other mom, with the comfy lap, had not yet come home from work.

Usually when one of my moms leaves before the other gets home, my one mom will call my other mom to let her know whether I have already have dinner. This is because I have been known to YOWL AS THOUGH I HAVE NEVER BEEN FED IN MY ENTIRE LIFE when one of my moms walks into the house, even though I am still digesting my dinner.

As usual, my mom with the tasty hair left a message for my mom with the comfy lap. I overheard her doing so. It was a rather long message, with the first part being about BALANCING THE CHECKBOOK and the second part being about FEEDING THE CAT. I do not have the slightest idea what BALANCING THE CHECKBOOK is about, but I do know that my mom with the tasty hair spent a very long time on it yesterday and this caused her much frustration.

Obviously, I know what FEEDING THE CAT is about. My mom with the tasty hair said in her message I AM GOING TO FEED THE CAT BEFORE I GO, and true to her word, she fed me and then left.

My mom with the comfy lap came in the door a few hours later. She was a little frustrated because she was supposed to feed PIZZA to some people, but none of the people actually came. I thought maybe she would feel better if she got to feed somebody (I.E., ME), and so I put on my best STARVING CAT ACT.

When my mom with the tasty hair came home much later, my mom with the comfy lap said I FED THE CAT. My mom with the tasty hair said DIDN'T YOU GET MY MESSAGE? I SAID I WAS GOING TO FEED THE CAT. And my mom with the comfy lap said OOPS.

And then it was all YOU LITTLE SCAMP! and WHAT A MANIPULATIVE BEAST YOU ARE! and IF YOU PUKE UP TWO DINNERS IN THE NIGHT, I AM GOING TO BE VERY, VERY MAD.

But I just sat there smugly. Naturally I was quite pleased with myself, on account of the success of my little ruse. I would have patted myself on the back, except I CAN'T REACH.

Stone soup

2007-04-29T13:56:00.000-04:00

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.

Cat burglar

2007-04-18T14:29:00.000-04:00

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.

Paging the cat

2007-04-05T15:47:00.000-04:00

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.

No kidding, you can't eat that.

2007-03-28T14:55:00.000-04:00

My moms are always going on about how the only things I am really allowed to eat are CAT FOOD and CAT TREATS. Of course this does not really stop me from attempting to sample other types of cuisine, including people food, hair, floor candy, and plastic bags.

I am very sad that now SOME CAT FOOD IS NOT FOR CATS. I am especially sad that it is my favorite kind, with CHUNKS AND GRAVY, which has been recalled because some other cats got very sick from it. In my opinion, if it is called CAT FOOD then it should be SAFE FOR CATS TO EAT.

We had some CHUNKS AND GRAVY in the house when it was recalled. My mom with the tasty hair got very nervous about this, but thankfully all the cans had been made before the ones that were recalled and I am feeling quite fine in the renal department, thank you.

But now we have only SOLID ENTREE in the house, the kind with TURKEY AND GIBLETS, which was previously my favorite. I still like this kind very much, but NOTHING COMPARES TO CHUNKS AND GRAVY.

(For the record, my favorite part is the GRAVY, which I like to slurp up before I eat even a single CHUNK.)

Yes, I WOULD like fries with that. Thanks for asking.

2007-03-01T00:49:00.000-05:00

Last night my mom with the tasty hair went out for some dinner with Charlie and Lucy's mom.

My mom with the comfy lap did not go because she had HOMEWORK to do. I do not quite know what HOMEWORK is, but it usually involves my mom with the comfy lap sitting around for a very long time while looking at books and sometimes also at the computer. Which means that for several hours at a time I have pretty much unbridled access to her very comfy lap.

But sometimes my mom with the comfy lap does her HOMEWORK at the dining room table, which means she is sitting on a WOODEN CHAIR and that is a place where I am NOT ALLOWED TO BE. So I stage a little sit-in every now and then. I sit at her feet and do my best to convey aloud my internal state, which is of course one of INTENSE DISPLEASURE AND INSULT.

Last night, though, my mom was doing her HOMEWORK on the couch, and I was minorly interested for a while. And then I became minorly disinterested, so I went upstairs to see what there was to be seen. Pretty soon the doorbell rang, and it was my mom with the tasty hair. She was BEARING GIFTS for my mom with the comfy lap, which pleased my one mom greatly.

I didn't so much care for the one gift, which was made out of STRAWBERRY ICE CREAM and as I have previously noted, I really do prefer the kind that is MINT CHOCOLATE CHIP. But I did care very much for the other gift, which smelled an awful lot like my most favorite snack of all, which is POTATO CHIPS.

I snooped and sniffed and generally investigated in the vicinity of these a lot. I made my desire for them quite unambiguously known, but all I got was a BOP ON THE NOSE and it was all CATS DO NOT GET TO EAT FRENCH FRIES.

And so I went upstairs for a while JUST TO PRETEND THAT I WAS GOING TO DO SOMETHING ELSE. After a few minutes, when I thought maybe my moms had forgotten about my interest in the FRENCH FRIES, I came back downstairs and re-commenced my snooping and sniffing and general investigating. But then out of nowhere came another BOP ON THE NOSE and I had to re-evaluate my strategy again.

This re-evaluation ended up taking me a really long time. By the time I'd come up with a new plan, THE FRENCH FRIES WERE ALL GONE and my mom with the comfy lap was getting ready to go to bed, where my mom with the tasty hair was already sleeping. So not only did I not get any FRENCH FRIES, but also I missed out on the last installment of HOMEWORK.

This made me very sad indeed. Sometimes I think life is just not fair.

Socks!

2007-02-11T20:11:00.000-05:00

As previously mentioned, I have a special affinity for shoes belonging to my mom with the tasty hair. What I have not mentioned previously is that I also like socks belonging to my mom with the comfy lap. Sometimes she takes off her socks in the night and drops them next to the bed. Then sometimes I get bored in the night and I bat her socks around the house. And then in the morning it is all HONEY, WHY IS ONE OF YOUR SOCKS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE BATHROOM? and THE CAT MUST HAVE BEEN BORED IN THE NIGHT AGAIN and WELL, SHE DEPOSITED YOUR SOCK NEXT TO HER BOX.

Normally I wait until the socks are no longer on my one mom before I have my way with them. But last night I just COULDN'T HELP MYSELF. My moms had gone out for a while, and when they came back, my mom with the comfy lap had a brand-new pair of socks which she proceeded to put on her feet. These socks are like nothing I've ever seen before. For one, they are HAIRY. For another, they TASTE LIKE PLASTIC.

I know that they taste like plastic because I TASTED THEM. Here is how it happened:

My mom with the comfy lap was sitting at the table, which I myself am NOT ALLOWED TO DO, and those hairy socks were RIGHT AT MY EYE-LEVEL and so what else was I to do except to investigate them? First I sniffed around a little bit. Then I took a cautious little lick, just to see if they tasted as interesting as they looked. And then finally I applied my teeth.

All of a sudden it was OW! BAD CAT! WHAT THE HELL! and WHAT DID THE CAT DO NOW? and THE STUPID CAT WAS INVESTIGATING MY SOCK AND SHE BIT MY FOOT! I ran away to hide someplace where neither of my moms could find me, to contemplate the errors of my ways and hope that my mom with the comfy lap leaves those hairy socks by the bed sometime soon. For I am not nearly finished with my investigation. I have yet to assess how well they glide across the floor in the night.

L'amour

2007-02-05T20:32:00.000-05:00

My world is all topsy-turvy on account of my moms' schedules. My one mom, with the tasty hair, is now home more often because her workplace is VERY STRANGE. My other mom, with the comfy lap, is now home less often because school has started up again and she is working EVEN MORE. This all makes my mom with the tasty hair VERY ANXIOUS, and by extension it also makes me VERY ANXIOUS.

When I get anxious, I scratch. Sometimes I scratch my ears, sometimes I scratch my cheeks, and sometimes I scratch around my eyes. If I scratch a little too much, my moms will ambush me with a wet washcloth and a small amount of soap, and sometimes also some antibiotic cream. This does not please me at all. In fact, sometimes BEING WET AND SOAPY makes me EVEN MORE ANXIOUS.

Last night my mom with the tasty hair noticed that my eye was VERY RED AND ANGRY-LOOKING. She and my other mom investigated. I tried to make my whole self angry-looking as well, but that did not do much except to elicit a lot of CAT, THIS IS FOR YOUR OWN GOOD and HONEY, WILL YOU HOLD THE CAT STILL SO THAT I CAN WASH HER FACE? But my moms were still concerned about my eye, and so I was RUDELY INTERRUPTED from an otherwise pleasant little after-dinner snooze for a trip to the vet.

This involved all the usual things, like poking and prodding and HAVING ITEMS STUCK IN VERY PERSONAL AREAS. Then I was scooped up and taken to visit the scales, and while I was there I met a hot young thing.

The trip to the vet suddenly got a whole lot more interesting.

I commenced making all kinds of noises which my mom with the tasty hair had never heard before. She tried to tell me that I couldn't possibly have any interest in this boy because CAT, YOU HAVE NOT HAD NADS FOR YEARS but really, I think she just did not understand. You see, my moms are not very interested in boys. Although it is true that I HAVE NOT HAD NADS FOR YEARS, I did have some kittens first. And old habits die hard.

It turns out that not only do I not have any infection by my eye, but also I have lost some weight. Which means that I am EVEN MORE GORGEOUS THAN PREVIOUSLY ASSESSED. All the more reason that I should have been allowed to get to know that hot young thing. Besides, it's not like it would have resulted in any more mouths to feed.

Movie night

2007-01-14T21:24:00.000-05:00

Last night my mom with the comfy lap wanted to clean the house. My mom with the tasty hair wanted to watch a movie. All three of us were very surprised. Normally it is my mom with the tasty hair who wants to clean the house, and my mom with the comfy lap who wants to watch a movie. So they decided to clean the house first and then watch a movie as a reward.

For me this was both good and bad. When the house is clean, it means THERE ARE FEWER THINGS AVAILABLE UPON WHICH I CAN SNACK. This is a good thing for my moms but a bad thing for me. When my moms watch a movie, it means MY MOMS HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO PET ME. This is a good thing for me but a bad thing for my moms, because it is all CAT, I AM TRYING TO WATCH THIS MOVIE BUT YOUR BUTT IS IN THE WAY.

While my moms cleaned the house, I hid under the couch upstairs and fretted about this apparent zero-sum game. But then, when it was time for the movie, I realized that the situation was not so bad after all--

--for last night's showing included POPCORN.

I did my best to stay away from the popcorn during the movie because my moms think I do not like popcorn. My moms are very wrong. They base their opinions on a couple of times when they had offered me some popcorn, thinking I would like it because it is greasy and salty; and yet I did not partake of it. My moms did not consider the fact that I had just eaten dinner and so did not have any room left for popcorn. (Sometimes I do actually know my limits.)

A similar thing happened last night involving dinner and popcorn, only it was my moms' dinner and my moms' lack of room for popcorn. They were very tired after the movie and did not remember to put away the leftovers on their way to bed.

Early this morning, around 6:30, I went on my pre-dawn constitutional about the house. And there, by the television, was the forgotten bowl of popcorn! I sampled some of it. It was definitely last night's popcorn, but I have been known to eat even extremely old items if they are of interest.

My mom with the comfy lap came in and banished me from the rest of the popcorn. I thought she would sleep through my munchings, as she usually does; but I was wrong. My mom with the tasty hair was mostly sleeping when my other mom came back to bed, but she wanted to know what was going on. And my mom with the comfy lap said, WE ATE POPCORN.

And my mom with the tasty hair said, YES, WE DID EAT POPCORN LAST NIGHT, not realizing that my other mom was using THE ROYAL FELINE WE and not the regular kind of we.

And my mom with the comfy lap said, NO, I MEAN THE CAT WAS EATING THE POPCORN SO I THREW IT AWAY.

Then both my moms went back to sleep and I curled up with them a little while later. I thought all was forgiven, but then I got breakfast late because it was all CATS NEED TO WAIT FOR BREAKFAST IN CASE THEY PUKE UP THE POPCORN.

I did not, in fact, puke up the popcorn, so this all struck me as rather CRUEL AND UNUSUAL. Next time there is movie night, I will have to be a lot sneakier about the popcorn.

And for the record: I have never puked up any popcorn.

My sweet tooth

2007-01-01T21:34:00.000-05:00

My mom with the tasty hair has a sweet tooth. She likes all sorts of things with sugar in them, especially ICE CREAM and DONUTS. My mom with the comfy lap does not really care for very sweet things most of the time. Sometimes, though, she does like to have things like ICE CREAM and DONUTS.

(Both of my moms are very skinny. I do not know how they do it.)

ICE CREAM is something I also like, especially the kind that is MINT CHOCOLATE CHIP. Lucky for me, this is also the absolute favorite of my mom with the tasty hair. Sometimes my moms will have some ICE CREAM while watching television, and they will absent-mindedly put their bowls on the floor when they are finished. This gives me unrestricted access to MINT CHOCOLATE CHIP and so forth, until it is all CATS DO NOT GET ICE CREAM and then I have to scurry off into another room to lick my nose a lot.

My one mom, with the tasty hair, also likes to BAKE STUFF. My mom with the comfy lap likes to BAKE STUFF too, but not nearly as much as my mom with the tasty hair. My moms have learned that if they leave anything covered in tin foil out overnight, I will SINK MY LITTLE FANGS INTO IT while they sleep. So usually they hide the tin foil (and whatever is under it) before going to bed, and they almost never leave anything uncovered if they think I might investigate it in the night.

The other day my mom with the comfy lap decided to BAKE STUFF, namely a CAKE. Then my moms went out and left the CAKE here. My mom with the comfy lap did not cover the CAKE, nor did she hide the CAKE or otherwise place it out of my reach. No, my mom with the comfy lap LEFT THE CAKE UNCOVERED ON THE STOVE.

So naturally I hopped up on the counter to check it out.

Not only did it look very interesting, but it also smelled very interesting. So I nibbled at one corner daintily. Still interesting! So I nibbled at it some more, and some more, and some more, until I shaved off the top of a whole serving of CAKE.

My moms were definitely not pleased when they got home. It was all CAT, THAT CAKE IS SUPPOSED TO GO TO WORK WITH YOUR ONE MOM and CATS AREN'T SUPPOSED TO LIKE SUGAR and HONEY, WHY IS THE CAT SO BIZARRE?

What my moms do not know is that I happen to know that it is almost time for BIRTHDAY. This time it belongs to my mom with the tasty hair. And I also know that some things belong to BIRTHDAY, such as CAKE, ICE CREAM, and BALLOONS. Oh, I am going to be a very happy creature very soon.

My moms also do not know that I am very interested in SCIENCE. According to SCIENCE, cats do not care about SUGAR.

Obviously they did not ask the right cats.

'Tis the season

2006-12-24T12:32:00.000-05:00

I apologize for my COMPLETE ABSENCE over the past few weeks. It has been EXTREMELY COLD in my house and my brain just does not work when it is chilly. (Though my moms frequently point out that my brain is the size of a walnut, it is my opinion that SIZE DOES NOT MATTER.)

But now I have finally woken up from my hibernative state.

For a long time I just lived with my mom with the tasty hair. My mom with the comfy lap lived with us only sometimes. We lived in this place that was EXTREMELY COLD a lot of the time. Sometimes I would sit on the windowsill and watch the snow falling, but most of the time I found the warmest place in the house and stayed put. Now we live in a place where there is NO SNOW WHATSOEVER, even though sometimes it does get downright chilly. My mom with the tasty hair says she misses the snow a lot. My moms say that someday we might go live in some other place that does have snow, but for now we only have rain.

When I just lived with my mom with the tasty hair, I learned that there are these things called Christmas and Hanukkah that happen when it gets snowy. I have figured out that Christmas and Hanukkah also happen when it does not snow, as it does not snow here but we still have Christmas and Hanukkah. My mom with the tasty hair says that she does not know what time of year it is on account of the weather. Now, my brain may be the size of a walnut, but I don't need precipitation to tell time. All I need is my STOMACH.

Because I am very good at telling time, I know that it is time again for Hanukkah and Christmas. Hanukkah, which belongs to my mom with the tasty hair, comes with this very interesting thing with which I sadly do not get along:

Once, when my mom with the tasty hair was not looking, I went up to it to introduce myself. It singed the tip of one of my whiskers. I thought that was VERY RUDE and so I stopped trying to make friends with it. Because really, who need a rude friend, even if it is very warm, bright, and captivating?

Christmas belongs to my mom with the comfy lap, and it comes with this very interesting thing with which I could get along quite well if my moms were not always CHASING ME AWAY FROM IT:

Hanukkah and Christmas also come with fun things upon which to snack. These include RIBBON and STYROFOAM PEANUTS. Ribbon and styrofoam peanuts are quite tasty but provide absolutely no nutritional value as far as I can tell. They also tend not to agree with my delicate stomach. My moms are onto me with respect to the ribbon, and they get rid of it as soon as it comes into the house. I think my moms are onto me also with respect to the styrofoam peanuts. However, styrofoam peanuts are sneaky, kind of like yours truly. So even when my moms think they've removed all the peanuts from the house, they are usually wrong. Which means I GET TO EAT THEM. Which also means MY MOMS GET TO CLEAN IT UP.

But really, even with all these strange prohibitions, I think Christmas and Hanukkah are wonderful things. Last year when it was Christmas I got this terrific thing from my favorite person, who happens to be the father of my mom with the tasty hair.

Also I got this great big sock all to myself. It smelled gloriously of catnip and barbeque potato chips. And I stuck my head in it, and lo! There was catnip in there, and also some barbeque potato chips!

I have heard my moms say that CHRISTMAS COMES BUT ONCE A YEAR. Also I think HANUKKAH COMES BUT ONCE A YEAR BUT IT STICKS AROUND A LITTLE LONGER. Sometimes my mom with the tasty hair says THANK GOD CHRISTMAS ONLY COMES ONCE A YEAR because this time of year makes her very anxious. My mom with the comfy lap does not have this problem. I think I will have to agree with my mom with the comfy lap on the idea that Christmas should come more often, but maybe for different reasons.

I think Christmas should come more often because of all the FESTIVE SNACKS.

Substitute moms

2006-11-30T20:36:00.000-05:00

My moms went away for A REALLY LONG TIME last week.

My moms assure me that they were not actually gone for that long. My one mom, with the comfy lap, went away for three days, and my other mom, with the tasty hair, went away for three additional days. When I complained about their impending departure (I always know because of the SUITCASES ON THE BED), my moms were all WE ARE GOING TO YOUR GRANDPARENTS' TO EAT TURKEY and WE WILL BE BACK SOON and YOU WILL HAVE LOTS OF FUN VISITORS IN THE MEANTIME.

The part about the turkey bothered me for two reasons. First, I have turkey twice a day, every single day, and I only have to run back and forth between the bedroom and the kitchen a bunch of times for this to occur. I do not have to leave the house to eat turkey, so why would my moms have to leave the house to eat turkey? Second, my mom with the tasty hair DOES NOT EAT MEAT and so why would she leave the house for the express purpose of eating something she won't eat anyway?

I did, however, have lots of fun visitors. Some of my moms' friends came over the first night, and others came over the second night. On the first night it was my moms' friend who has Oreo and a whole bunch of other cats. On the second night it was my moms' friend who has Charlie and Lucy and another friend who has Butterscotch. I don't know Butterscotch or Oreo but I have learned a lot from Charlie and Lucy.

When my moms' friends who have Charlie and Lucy and Butterscotch were here, I was really missing my moms. They had been gone for A REALLY LONG TIME even though my moms' friends said it had really only been 24 hours. 24 hours is three meals (assuming the first one occurs at the start of 24 hours), which is definitely A REALLY LONG TIME.

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

So I chewed on the hair of my moms' friend who has Charlie and Lucy, and I sat in the lap of my moms' friend who has Butterscotch.

It just wasn't the same.

Fiber

2006-11-18T13:44:00.000-05:00

Most of the time I write about my moms telling me YOU CAN'T EAT THAT and my not understanding what the big deal is. I hereby make a confession that yesterday I ATE SOMETHING WHICH I SHOULD NOT HAVE EATEN.

My one mom, with the comfy lap, was sitting someplace and working on something very important when all of a sudden she realized I had VOMITED UPON THE FLOOR. This is not an altogether uncommon event after my actual mealtimes, but when it happens in the middle of the afternoon it is usually because I have sampled something delicious off the floor.

So my one mom went to investigate and found that I had coughed up a VERY SMALL PIECE OF WOOD, about 1/8" by 1/2". Upon examination of this evidence, my one mom started to worry that maybe I had hurt my insides with it. So she called the place where I get THINGS STUCK IN VERY PRIVATE LOCATIONS and everyone there thought I had eaten some potpourri.

But we do not have potpourri in the house. I don't actually know what potpourri is, but the one thing I do know about it is that it is a SMELLY THING. I also know that my other mom, with the tasty hair, is VERY ALLERGIC TO SMELLY THINGS. Therefore, we must not have potpourri in the house, and therefore also I did not eat potpourri. QED.

Anyway, the people at the place where they stick things in my private locations said that I was probably fine unless I either (a) got lethargic or (b) vomited more stuff upon the floor. My mom with the comfy lap noted that I was not at all lethargic. In fact I was quite happily walking across her lap and drooling on her and trying to make her pet me by inserting my head under her hand. I had also completely forgotten about the vomiting. Therefore I was probably fine. QED.

But the people also said that I COULD NOT HAVE DINNER because maybe I wasn't fine.

THIS WAS NOT FINE WITH ME.

I begged and begged and begged all evening to get my moms to go against medical advice. I pulled out all the stops. I MEOWED and I did TRICKS and I did a lot of SNUGGLING and I even GROOMED MY MOMS just to show how fine I was. But they would not relent. And in fact it was all CATS WHO EAT WOOD DON'T GET DINNER, and NO DINNER FOR YOU, YOU ATE WOOD and so forth.

I have now been fortified by breakfast, WHICH WAS MY FIRST MEAL IN 24 HOURS, and I realize my mistake. My moms occasionally let me eat some cereal, which has fiber in it and which does not hurt my insides and which is also fun to bat about on the kitchen floor. I think maybe I will stick to cereal and stop eating splinters.

And maybe my moms will not figure out that when I get some of their cereal after polishing off my morning dose of turkey and giblets, really this amounts to my having TWO BREAKFASTS.

I am the original odor eater

2006-11-06T00:45:00.000-05:00

I have a confession:

I like FEET.

I like my one mom's feet and I like my other mom's feet. I only like my one mom's armpits (that's my mom with the tasty hair) and I only like my one mom's nose (that's my mom with the comfy lap). But I like the feet of both my moms. I like BOTH FEET of BOTH MY MOMS.

I like the feet of my mom with the comfy lap best when she's been walking around the house all day without any shoes or socks. I like the feet of my mom with the tasty hair best when she has been walking around all day with shoes and socks on.

Sometimes I have to STICK MY HEAD IN MY ONE MOM'S SHOES in order to get my fix. This is what I like best about the feet of my mom with the tasty hair--they fragrance her shoes.

Both my moms catch me playing with my one mom's shoes. Tonight my mom with the tasty hair found me and it was all CAT, WHY ARE YOU SUCKING ON MY SHOELACES? I got a final few slurps in before I was REDIRECTED UP THE STAIRS and that was the end of that.

But unlike plastic bags, shoelaces don't make any noise when I suck on them. Which means that maybe I can get my fix BEFORE MY MOMS EVEN WAKE UP IN THE MORNING and they will never even know. This is an excellent idea, I think, except maybe the shoelace will be soggy and I will be REDIRECTED ONCE AGAIN.

Hm. I shall have to ponder this in the night.

Habla la gata

2006-11-03T15:27:00.000-05:00

My one mom, with the tasty hair, is learning Spanish. My other mom, with the comfy lap, already knows Spanish; but my mom with the tasty hair said I DON'T WANT YOU TO TEACH ME SPANISH, for reasons unknown, and so she goes off to a classroom two nights a week instead.

As previously mentioned, I am extremely talented in that I can read with my head or my butt, while I am awake or while I am asleep. Utilizing a combination of these methods, I have taken it upon myself to learn Spanish along with my one mom.

My favorite thing thus far is this exercise from her workbook, in which a cat offers her INCREDIBLE DAILY AUTOBIOGRAPHY:

I will now demonstrate my knowledge of Spanish by translating this passage. Witness my linguistic prowess:

These fleas, these fleas! I'm here on the sofa, extremely bored. This is because my masters do not pay any attention to me. Only the kids in the family, Ernestito and Guillermo, play with me. And I really don't like to play with them. Sometimes they treat me badly, like a toy. Oy vey!

My masters, Ernesto and Estela, don't know that I am extremely observant. They probably think that I only like to eat and sleep. Oy vey! Human beings do not understand animals--especially not us cats.

Every day my masters do the same things. Estela, my mistress, wakes up early and goes to the kitchen to drink this hot black stuff that they all drink every morning. They call it "coffee." After that, my mistress calls to my master, but he always wants to sleep just a little bit longer. So she opens the curtains in the bedroom and lets in a lot of light. "Good God!" shouts my master. "Too much light! I can't open my eyes, Estela!"

Then my master knocks on her daughter Amanda's door, and the girl leaves her room. Amanda always greets her mother like this: "Good morning!" The young woman in this family has no problem with waking up. But Ernestito and Guillermo definitely have problems! Estela goes to their bedroom and wakes them up. They also want to sleep a little bit longer. "Time to go to school!" says my mistress. And the boys slowly wake up.

Ernesto takes a shower, gets dressed, reads the newspaper, drinks that black stuff and says some complicated things that I just don't understand. My mistress and this lady Berta (who does the housework and lives with us) prepare breakfast for the family. They always eat breakfast together. (Mmmmm. These human beings eat so much more than we cats!) Afterward, Ernesto and his kids leave and my mistress stays in the house.

Estela then picks me up and puts me outside, saying, "Go, Manchitas! Go look for mice!" It's really cold in the morning and I don't like to be outside, so I always either find myself a little bit of sunshine or jump at the window. I can see my mistress through the window--she's behind it. She takes a shower, gets dressed, puts on her makeup, makes the bed... every day, the same exact things! Later Berta cleans off the furniture and runs the vacuum. Meow! I really hate that machine!

My mistress goes out with Berta in the afternoon. I think they go to the supermarket, because they come back with food. And I stick around by myself on the patio. I amuse myself by climbing around outside the garden. Ernestito's dog, Lobo, lives in the garden. And in the next house over there is a dog named Sultan. The two dogs jump and jump around to try to get over to me. Ha ha! They can't climb up there--they're too fat! And man, do they bark! Ernestito really likes Sultan; he says he wants him to come live with us. But we already have a dog. Two dogs in the house? Meow!

At night my masters eat and give me the leftovers. After they eat, they go visit the neighbors or take a stroll around the neighborhood. The kids look at this bright thing, something called "television." They really love looking at other human beings on this thing!

At the end of the day, they all go to bed. But me? I give myself a good bath with my little tongue and then go to sleep on the sofa. That's where I am now. Meow! How I hate these fleas!

While this has been a stimulating intellectual exercise, I have to say I'm left feeling very sorry for Manchitas. Her life would be so much more fulfilling if only she lived with me and my moms. For I would teach her how to appreciate the finer things in life, such as UPSTAGING THE TELEVISION and USING FORCE TO AVOID THE OUTDOORS and WAKING UP RECALCITRANT FAMILY MEMBERS.

Then again, I might still not get on well with other cats, and I might not be willing to share my moms (or my food) with Manchitas.

Feline Bureau of Investigation

2006-10-22T21:12:00.000-04:00

Probably my favorite thing to do in my free time is CONDUCTING INVESTIGATIONS. I investigate all sorts of things, like the paper in the recycling bag, the flora and fauna on the kitchen floor, and the stuff in the space under the stairs. My moms keep a lot of things in the space under the stairs. Among other items of intense interest, I have found shoeboxes, wrapping paper, and my one mom's big huge painting back there. My mom with the tasty hair did this big huge painting once, but she doesn't want it on the wall these days. So she wrapped it all up in newsprint and stuck it under the stairs. I do not understand art, but I do understand EATING NEWSPRINT.

My moms chase me out from under the stairs more often than they would prefer. (I also would prefer this to happen less often, but for entirely different reasons.) Sometimes they will PICK ME UP AND FORCIBLY REMOVE ME FROM THE PREMISES. I hear this is kind of like what happens to U.N. weapons inspectors. They go poking around for items of intense interest, and then they get kicked out of wherever they were poking around. Any items already of intense interest get a whole lot more interesting after the kibosh is put on your investigation.

My moms heard me under the stairs the other day. I was happily testing the newsprint's fitness for feline consumption when it was all CAT! WHAT ARE YOU DOING UNDER THERE? THAT IS NOT HOW YOU APPRECIATE ART! and one of my moms picked me up and carried me into the bedroom, whereupon she set me on the bed and proclaimed,

J'ACCUSE!

This, I understand, is French for "smell my finger." Coincidentally, that's my second favorite activity.

Nuzzling the hand that shoos you

2006-10-06T17:35:00.000-04:00

Gentle readers, you may be wondering how I remain so well-adjusted despite the incredible stress of NOT BEING ABLE TO SNACK FREELY.

We cats have fairly short attention spans. We are also very distractible. For example, sometimes I might be staring at a spider that is crawling about in a most interesting fashion, and then all of a sudden I realize MY TAIL HAS GOT SCHMUTZ UPON IT and to be perfectly honest the spider gets a lot less interesting. And maybe then, after practicing good hygiene, I go off and CHEW ON A PLASTIC BAG, having completely forgotten about the spider. And maybe then, in the middle of my snacking, one of my moms will come up behind me and it will be all BAD CAT! CATS DO NOT EAT BAGS!

(Which, of course, we most certainly do. Otherwise, WE WOULD NOT HAVE BLOGS.)

And then maybe I will keep chewing on the bag because this is the one thing that holds my interest for hours. My one mom, with the tasty hair, says this is not unlike people with ADHD, who are able to concentrate for hours only while playing video games. But my situation is different, you see, because video games are always changing (which according to my one mom is why people with ADHD like them so much), whereas plastic bags don't really change all that much. Except for how much cat slobber they accumulate before I am BUSTED.

So then maybe my mom will forcibly redirect me. By this I mean she will PICK ME UP AND PUT ME SOMEPLACE ELSE, and when I go back later to look for the bag, IT ISN'T THERE ANY LONGER. Maybe I will be really insulted for a few minutes, but I cannot hold a grudge. And so then I will be very sweet and nuzzly toward my mom.

This is also true when I have my nails clipped. I whine and groan and cry during my involuntary pedicure, and my moms go on about how CAT, YOU BREAK MY HEART BUT YOUR CLAWS ARE SO LONG THEY PIERCE MY LEG THROUGH MY JEANS, and it's all very unpleasant and insulting. Then my mom who is clipping my nails will let me go, and I will climb off her lap and stand right next to her for some petting.

My post-traumatic snuggliness confuses both my moms greatly. I heard them mention the other day something called STOCKHOLM SYNDROME. But really? I am just a sucker for attention, though I have very little of it myself.

March of the cat

2006-10-03T14:06:00.000-04:00

I like routine.

I also don't like change. I am not sure whether my love of routine is stronger than my hatred of change. My moms say I am a creature of habit. They are not ones to talk! My one mom, with the tasty hair, likes things to be JUST SO all the time, and she gets VERY DISTRESSED WHEN THINGS ARE NOT JUST SO. My other mom, with the comfy lap, does not seem to mind at all when things are not just so. Sometimes, though, she gets VERY DISTRESSED when my other mom INSISTS THAT THINGS BE JUST SO.

With all of this philosophical conflict in the house, it is amazing that I turned out as well as I did.

An example of my well-adjusted nature: Every so often I like to change up my routine a little. I can deal with this sort of change because I AM IN CHARGE. A lot of my routine occurs during the night, between when my moms go to bed and a few hours later when I curl up with them. Lately my routine has included walking across my moms, around their heads, and back again. My moms refer to this sometimes as THE CAT THRUWAY. Or sometimes they call it THE CAT IS ON HER BEAT AGAIN.

I am very methodical about my ambulation. Sometimes I will stop for a little snacking on my one mom's tasty hair, but most of the time I stick to my schedule of walking across my moms, around their heads, and back again. I even have a little cadence to keep me on track. It goes like this:

MOMS' HEADS!
MOMS' FEETS!
I WONDER IF THERE ARE TREATS!

My moms, however, do not appear to appreciate my cadence. This confuses me. Both my moms have done things that require rhythm. My mom with the tasty hair used to do this thing called MARCHING BAND, in which keeping in step (to cadences, no less!) is of utmost importance. My mom with the comfy lap still does this thing called BALLET, in which she leaps about in a rather cat-like fashion in time to music. Mostly she leaves the house to do this, but when she does it at home, my other mom gets VERY DISTRESSED because BALLET IS NOT JUST SO.

I try my best to be JUST SO, but I think my mom with the tasty hair has a different definition of JUST SO than the rest of us, including my mom with the comfy lap. But then again, neither of my moms have yet realized that my own definition of JUST SO is FAR SUPERIOR TO THEIRS.

And besides: I got rhythm.

Kitty in the kitchen

2006-09-13T00:34:00.000-04:00

I am experiencing much stress, for my one mom with the tasty hair now has A LOT LESS TASTY HAIR. A few days ago she left the house with her normal tasty hair, and then a little while later she came back with maybe only a third remaining. It doesn't taste any different--I've already determined this--but it sure looks different. I don't like change. Change puts me under stress. CHANGE IS NOT GOOD.

When I am under stress (and I hear this is also true of humans), I behave differently. Sometimes stress leads me to scratch behind my ears; other times it prompts me to lick myself more; and still other times it cause me to hang around my moms pretty much constantly, except when I need to use the facilities.

This time I have apparently been a VERY BAD CAT. Here is what I have been doing:

My moms were at a picnic and brought home a knife that had been used to cut some meat. My one mom with the comfy lap put it on the kitchen counter and assured my other mom that YES LOVE I WILL WASH THIS AND TAKE IT BACK because it doesn't actually belong to my moms. As my moms went about their evening activities, I went about jumping up on the counter and licking the knife. Indeed, I was very careful not to cut my tongue on the knife, and I was very quiet and sweet about the whole business. Then my mom with the tasty hair came into the kitchen and it was all BAD CAT! NO MEAT KNIVES FOR CATS! and I went scurrying off to another part of the house, where I could lick the last vestiges of raw meat from my lips in peace.

Then last night my mom with the tasty hair heard a little tinkling sound in the kitchen. She went in to investigate and interrupted my own investigation. I had been checking out the pretty little glass thingies in the china cabinet, all quietly and sweetly until one of the pretty little glass thingies caught the light and I got all interested and accidentally knocked it over.

My moms have been leaving the china cabinet open a little because it still smells like varnish sometimes, and my one mom with the comfy lap says this makes the stuff in the pretty little glass thingies taste funny. So it's not like I opened the door myself. Well, okay, I did open the door myself, but IT WAS UNLATCHED WHEN I FOUND IT.

So it was all BAD CAT! CATS DO NOT USE STEMWARE! and so I scrambled to another part of the house while my mom with the tasty hair confirmed that I had not actually broken any of the pretty little glass thingies, only REARRANGED THEM A LITTLE BIT.

Maybe I should find out if my mom can get the rest of her tasty hair put back on. I think this would help matters immensely.

Shake it

2006-09-03T23:19:00.000-04:00

My moms have this game that my one mom (with the tasty hair) absolutely loves and my other mom (with the comfy lap) merely tolerates. I understand the difference between loving and merely tolerating. For example: I love PICKING UP SPIDERS AND CARRYING THEM ABOUT THE HOUSE, but I merely tolerate my moms PICKING ME UP AND CARRYING ME ABOUT THE HOUSE. Or, for another example: I love THE SMELL OF TUNA FROM THE CAN, but I merely tolerate NOT BEING ALLOWED TO HAVE ANY.

My mom with the comfy lap has such a great love for my mom with the tasty hair that she merely tolerates this particular game quite frequently. My moms play this game a couple of times a week sometimes. My mom with the comfy lap makes such frustrated noises sometimes that you would think maybe someone was trying to TRIM HER BACK CLAWS.

When my moms play this game, I experience GREAT CONFUSION. They pull out the box and all its parts, and suddenly there is this DIVINE RATTLE that sounds for all the world EXACTLY LIKE MY TREATS. So naturally I come running to the kitchen, thinking I am going to get a handful of crunchy, fishy bits, and each time I am SORELY DISAPPOINTED BY THE LACK OF TREATS and you can bet I make my disappointment audibly apparent.

One time my mom with the comfy lap decided to dump some of the game's parts on the floor. My moms sometimes put little things on the floor, leaves and fruit and such, in an attempt to help me learn that they are not good to eat. This never works. In the middle of the night, I just get so hungry that I seek out all stuff my moms think they've shown me I dislike. I do actually like this stuff. I just humor my moms so that I can barf up stuff all over the house while they sleep. QED.

Anyway, when my mom dumped the game's parts on the floor, I got SO TERRIBLY EXCITED because first there was the DIVINE RATTLE, which means TREATS ARE COMING! And then there were the bits on the floor, which means TREATS ARE HERE! And oh, was I disappointed when the bits on the floor turned out to be LITTLE CUBES OF PLASTIC, which SMELLED LIKE BAGS but were approximately the size of ATOMIC JAWBREAKERS.

I was not pleased with my mom with the comfy lap. So I decided to send her a little reminder about the order of the universe:

Back to school

2006-08-29T19:58:00.000-04:00

Both of my moms are headed to school these days. My one mom, with the comfy lap, was merely on summer break. My other mom, with the tasty hair, decided to go back to school and learn a new language. Now she is learning to go on about how LA GATA ES MUY LOCA and POR FAVOR NO COMER EL PELO. Some things never change.

I figure it's time for me to go back to school too. I could learn all kinds of interesting things, like horticulture, culinary arts, or cosmetology. It's getting kind of boring just staring at the floors and the walls, day in and day out.

Cats are supposed to be extremely curious, but I prefer to think of myself as a VERY STUDIOUS CREATURE.

The earth moved for me, too

2006-08-06T23:54:00.000-04:00

I have not written in a while because my one mom, the one with the tasty hair, has been HURTING. She has had to go get poked and prodded, but she hasn't been playing with me much. My other mom, with the comfy lap, plays with me some, but I am worried about my mom with the tasty hair. I hear her talk sometimes about carpal tunnels, which unfortunately ARE NOT ABOUT FISH. I know this because I have licked her in all the places she hurts, and sampled her hair just for good measure, and none of those spots tasted like fish. I spend a lot of time hanging around my one mom, just to make sure she is okay. When my one mom ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.

On Wednesday night last week, we were HOME ALONE. I was keeping a close eye on my mom with the tasty hair. (A half-closed eye, really, but don't tell anyone.) Then, about two hours after my dinner, the house started WIGGLING FROM SIDE TO SIDE! I thought maybe the house was going to pounce on something.

My mom with the tasty hair got all scared and started in with CAT? CAT? WHERE ARE YOU? OH NO! And right as the wiggling stopped, she found me. I'd been right next to her all along.

I think maybe this hurting is getting to her brain.

I am aware that when the house gets all wiggly, one is supposed to assume this type of position:

So that is what I did for the rest of the night, until it was time to tuck my moms into bed and snuggle amidst my one mom's tasty hair--I mean, PROVIDE HER WITH ESSENTIAL LUMBAR SUPPORT.

Activities of daily living

2006-07-11T13:43:00.000-04:00

Yes, Manders and Manders' mom, I have been eating stuff. I have just been a little on the fatigued side, and to be honest, more interested in LICKING MYSELF than in blogging. This worries both of my moms, but I hereby proudly state that I have not produced any hairballs on account of all this licking.

At least, I have not produced any hairballs that my moms have found.

My moms, for their part, have not been as excited about their activities of daily living as I have been about my own. They have especial problems with WAKING UP IN THE MORNING, which (according to my one mom with the tasty hair) is the most important of the ADL's (so my mom with the tasty hair abbreviates it) because you can't accomplish any ADL's at all WHILE YOU ARE SLEEPING.

My mom with the tasty hair says that eating regular meals is also a big ADL, though she declines to say whether this includes the occasional consumption of floor candy. Due to my LACK OF OPPOSABLE THUMBS I can't get into my food by myself, which my moms say is a HUMONGOUS BLESSING but which I say is a HUMONGOUS PAIN IN MY BUTT because I have to depend on my (often undependable) moms for the accomplishment of this apparently extraordinarily important ADL.

When my moms do not wake up at the appropriate hour, I must take matters into my own paws. I am fully capable of pulling the covers off my moms, but I don't. My mom with the tasty hair thinks she has trained me not to do this, but really I just think it's more fun to meow incessantly, head-butt my moms into submission, and LICK THEIR EARLOBES once the alarm goes off.

Even so, sometimes my moms persist in ignoring their number-one ADL. I used to get my moms up by licking the covers of library books, which they say is gross and YOU DON'T KNOW WHERE THAT BOOK HAS BEEN. On the contrary. I can taste exactly where that book has been, and trust me, you don't want to know.

So now I keep my book-licking on the down-low, and I lick the blinds instead.

My moms will warn me that CAT, YOU WILL CUT YOUR TONGUE ON THERE, which I am proud to say I have never once done. They think I lick the blinds for the same reason that I lick the library books, the windowpanes, and the carpet--that is, because they taste good. On the contrary. I know that humans (being inferior to cats) have a very hard time sleeping while light is pouring into the room. One needs opposable thumbs to open the blinds, but as previously mentioned I do not have such appendages. So really I am not licking the blinds per se. I am merely trying to OPEN THEM WITH MY TONGUE, such that my sleeping moms wake up and get started on my ADL's.

What is this irony of which you speak?

2006-06-14T22:54:00.000-04:00

My mom with the comfy lap has gone away for several days. She is apparently doing some stuff with her church denomination. My mom with the comfy lap has a job doing churchy stuff, does churchy activist stuff, and is getting some new letters after her name by reading big heavy books about churchy stuff.

My other mom, with the tasty hair, does not do churchy stuff at all. Which means I HAVE HER UNDIVIDED ATTENTION FOR EIGHT DAYS.

I don't do churchy stuff either. Personally, I worship myself. My mom with the comfy lap would say this is blasphemy, seeing as how cats might be fully divine but wouldn't even want to be fully human even as a bonus. My mom with the tasty hair would just say I HAVE PROBLEMS and leave it at that.

My mom with the tasty hair was doing some stuff tonight that did not involve me. THIS WAS UNACCEPTABLE.

Normally I get her attention by chewing on that delicious hair of hers, but I couldn't reach it. So I chewed on the closest thing in reach of my mouth.

My mom with the tasty hair caught me immediately and started in with CAT, WHY ARE YOU CHEWING ON THE EXTENSION CORD? GOOD THING THAT'S NOT PLUGGED IN! and so on.

I may not act like it all the time, but I am pretty smart. I mean, if you can read with your butt, you can't be all that dense. I knew this thing wasn't plugged in all along. I just wanted to see what would happen if I nibbled ever so gently upon its plasticky sweet self. I thought my mom with the tasty hair might pay attention to me, and I was right.

But then my mom with the tasty hair looked at the plasticky sweetness and started muttering some things about how CATS DON'T UNDERSTAND IRONY.

As brilliant as I am, sometimes my moms are actually right.
Such occurrences are HIGHLY DISTRESSING.

Devouring knowledge

2006-06-07T00:05:00.000-04:00

My one mom, with the comfy lap, reads a lot of BIG HEAVY BOOKS.

I like to read books too. I do it by osmosis. Feline osmotic reading works both ways--I can read with my butt or with my head. My moms can only read with their eyes. I can even read while I'm asleep. My moms can't do that either. Thus once again we see the SUPERIORITY OF THE FELINE RACE.

My mom with the tasty hair doesn't really read big heavy books anymore. She mostly reads little lightweight ones. She also doesn't read stapled stacks of paper anymore, either. Apparently this is because she got some new letters after her name, which she says stand for DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY but which I think really ought to stand for PLEASE HAVE DINNER. My mom with the comfy lap is trying to get those letters too, which means she has a lot of big heavy books to read.

I try to help my mom with the comfy lap keep her books open. My mom with the comfy lap does not appreciate this. She uses a sand-filled lizard instead. My butt would have done just fine, but no. The lizard gets to read stuff through its belly, and meanwhile MY EDUCATION IS SUFFERING.

Of course, the only logical thing to do in this case is to SUCK KNOWLEDGE OUT OF THE LIZARD'S TAIL.

My mom with the comfy lap does not appreciate this either. She says Guadeloupe (such is the lizard's name, as such reads a big stamp on its belly) appreciates it even less.

I think Guadeloupe is being awfully selfish. I mean, I groom my moms, act as their alarm clock, and (usually) clean up after myself, and what does this Guadeloupe do? Lie around like a sandbag all day, and get FREE TUITION BESIDES.

Higher education is NOT FAIR.

Because

2006-05-02T19:49:00.000-04:00

I seem to have a bit of a cult following. I only have a very small cult, but how many cats can say they have a cult following in the first place? Anyway, it is good to know that I am not the only one who knows HOW VERY CHARISMATIC I AM.

Some of my cult members have asked my moms why I don't write blog entries more often. I don't know why they don't ask me directly, but perhaps it has something to do with the fact that PEOPLE DO NOT UNDERSTAND MEOWING. Well, I take that back. People are fairly good at identifying "Where's my breakfast?" and "Where's my dinner?" and "Oh my God I am SO TERRIBLY LOST and EVERYTHING LOOKS DIFFERENT and WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU and oh never mind I was just kidding about that, everything's fine."

In any event, I think I should explain why I do not write as many blog entries as the average human blogger. It has absolutely nothing to do with my LACK OF OPPOSABLE THUMBS.

Blogging just REALLY WEARS ME OUT.

Adolescent rebellion

2006-04-23T17:02:00.000-04:00

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.

Cole slaw

2006-04-16T21:54:00.000-04:00

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.

The good stuff

2006-04-08T00:59:00.000-04:00

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.

It's all right--they're organic

2006-03-21T14:39:00.000-05:00

My one mom, the one with the tasty hair, is having some frustrations. When I get frustrated, I RIP ON THINGS. But I get yelled at if I RIP ON THINGS THAT AREN'T MY SCRATCHING POST. I have been trying to teach my one mom how to rip on things, but I got yelled at because my demonstrations involve the carpet.

So my other mom, the one with the nice lap, brought her roses one day. My moms put flowers high up on the shelf, where I can SMELL THEM BUT NOT REACH THEM.

I am very crafty and can get most places in the house, but I can't get up on this shelf. In fact, my moms can't really get up there either, unless they use a chair. That is how high up it is.

Cats are supposed to be carnivores, which means THEY DO NOT EAT PLANTS. My moms are vegetarians, which means THEY DO NOT EAT MEAT. This arrangement works out very well for me, because I GET ALL THE MEAT. I would be happy to share the meat if my moms wanted it, but my moms DO NOT SHARE THE PLANTS. I actually really like plants, so this is EXTREMELY UNFAIR.

Here is the thing with plants. They are fun to chew up and swallow. I could eat plants all day long. But they are not so fun to digest. When I eat plants all day long, I BARF PLANTS ALL NIGHT LONG. Usually it is my mom with the tasty hair who wakes up to clean up after me and YELL AT ME for EATING PLANTS and WAKING HER UP AT THREE IN THE MORNING which by the way is a perfectly reasonable hour in my book.

So my moms put the plants out of my reach, from whence I am TORMENTED BY THEIR SWEET AROMA. My moms yell at me if I even so much as LOOK LONGINGLY AT THE BEAUTIFUL PLANTS. And they say sometimes that I NEVER LEARN, that I am like a FRAT BOY who hasn't quite grasped the CAUSAL RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN BEER AND PUKING.

I resent that comparison. For one thing, I don't like beer.

Off with their heads!

2006-03-10T00:57:00.000-05:00

My one mom, the one with the tasty hair, had a bad couple of weeks. I know this because she was not as interested in me as she usually is, and also she kept SLEEPING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DAY. That is normal for cats, but not normal for my one mom. And then when I wanted her to WAKE UP AND PAY ATTENTION TO ME ALREADY, she was not at all appreciative.

One of my one mom's friends sent her some balloons. My one mom really liked them. I really liked them too. Also I like her friend. She has two cats, so how bad can she be? Plus she likes me. But I haven't seen her in a while because all of us moved to different places. I know she still remembers me, on account of the HALF DOZEN BALLOONS.

I like balloons. They are SHINY and BOUNCY and more to the point, THEY HAVE RIBBON. I know I am not supposed to eat ribbon. I am not supposed to eat a lot of things. That has never stopped me before.

My moms thought they could put the balloons where I couldn't get them. They were wrong. I decapitated one of them almost immediately. Then I made short work of four more. OBSERVE MY MANDIBULAR PROWESS.

You may be wondering why there are six balloons on the ceiling, when I said I only ate five. I did only eat five. My other mom, the one with the nice lap, got to the sixth one before I could. But she used some sharp things that were not her teeth.

Wimp.

I am an X-file

2006-02-17T22:30:00.000-05:00

A VERY TRAUMATIC THING happened to me a week ago. It has taken me SEVEN DAYS to recover enough to share these events with the rest of the world.

My one mom (with the tasty hair) put me in THE PURPLE BOX OF DEATH last Friday. I complained all the way to the car, to no avail. Then the car started vibrating and making that soothing humming noise and we were moving and all was better. Eut then we were in front of a BIG SCARY BUILDING and it just went DOWNHILL FROM THERE.

I don't know what happened next. But then I found myself crawling out of THE PURPLE BOX OF DEATH onto a COLD METAL TABLE. I am pretty sure I have been there before and some yucky stuff happened those times too.

Then this WEIRD HAIRY CREATURE appeared in front of me. It looked like my moms but it had HAIR ON ITS FACE as well as on its head. My moms have long hair on their heads and no hair on their faces, but this one had short hair on its head and on its face. Normally I would want to taste new things like that but I was unable to move and get a better look at it.

Then the hairy creature PROBED ME IN A VERY PERSONAL REGION. I was really offended but too scared to do anything. Also I was still too scared to taste its hair. Then I was being carried into another secret chamber and POKED AND PRODDED SOME MORE.

When I was carried back into the room with the COLD METAL TABLE, the hairy creature PINCHED MY NECK and then I really couldn't move. I felt the hairy creature put something FOREIGN ON MY NECK. I wanted to investigate it but I couldn't reach back there. I think the hairy creature put it there on purpose so that I would NEVER FIND IT. But the hairy creature was only partially right, because I knew there was SOMETHING FOREIGN ON MY NECK.

I have heard about this sort of thing happening to humans. I think they call it ALIEN ABDUCTION. Humans get abducted lots, and some humans get abducted lots more than others.

I am good at logic, so I am pretty sure I will see the hairy creature again. But the aliens that take humans don't have any hair. So I guess I was ABDUCTED BY SPECIAL CAT ALIENS.

I think I should make myself a hat out of tinfoil, but first I think I will make sure the tinfoil tastes okay.

Friend or foe?

2006-02-08T19:17:00.000-05:00

This is something I know I'm not supposed to eat. Contrary to what my moms say, I don't actually eat these. I think they are kind of like what people call chewing gum. I SLOBBER ALL OVER THEM and maybe also all over the floor, but I don't actually swallow them. They just taste REALLY, REALLY GOOD.

But I think maybe THEY MIGHT EAT ME. My moms have a lot of these around so they can clean up after my PERSONAL BUSINESS. These things make a lot of SCARY CRINKLY NOISES and I have no choice but to run away and hide. If I can't eat them, they are also not allowed to eat me. That is how it works.

My moms do not understand why I like to put these in my mouth and make crinkly noises, yet I don't like the crinkly noises they make on their own. My one mom, with the hair, calls this an "approach-avoidance conflict" or something like that. I don't know what that means, but anyway, it's TOTALLY A NO-BRAINER:

When I put one of these in my mouth and make crinkly noises with it, I can rest assured that IT IS IN MY MOUTH, and NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND.

Lunch!

2006-02-07T19:55:00.000-05:00

My moms don't have this stuff very often. In fact, my one mom (with the yummy hair) does not like this stuff. She is NUTS! My other mom (with the comfy lap) loves this stuff.

I love it too. I think maybe I love it more than she does. But I will never get to prove this to her, because she NEVER LETS ME HAVE ANY.

I got as close as I could get to it before my moms SCOLDED ME and I had to RUN AWAY and PRETEND NOT TO BE INTERESTED ANYMORE.

That was REALLY HARD.

Actually, I found myself COMPLETELY INCAPABLE OF FEIGNING DISINTEREST.

I think they lied about it being COMPLETELY OFF-LIMITS TO CATS.

Why cats blog

2006-02-07T15:55:00.000-05:00

I am a cat.

By nature I am, of course, very curious. A lot of things are REALLY INTERESTING to me.

Also, I like to eat stuff. So a lot of things are REALLY INTERESTING to me because THEY COULD BE FOOD!

My moms (I have two of those) sometimes will SCOLD ME for EATING THINGS THAT ARE NOT FOOD. They do not appreciate the FINER THINGS IN LIFE.

So I thought I would get one of these blog things and share my thoughts on what is edible and what is not. I think pretty much anything can be food, so I have lots of material.

But my one mom, the one I like to sit on, says that CATS CAN'T TYPE. My other mom, the one whose hair tastes excellent, says that cats can type, but they are just REALLY BAD AT IT.

My moms do not know very much.