You know, humans have a lot of nerve talking about how silly they think we cats are. Do you know what I just saw? Bevie - outside -
in the snow -
in the wind -
in the sub-zero cold -
throwing snow! I bet it was because of that silly test which said Bevie was really a Snowshoe Cat.
Oh, Bevie, Bevie, Bevie, Bevie. Poor Bevie. That's
not what being a Snowshoe Cat means.
Mikey. Aliera. Your humans took the test. They were Norwegian Forest Cats. Do they go out and play in the trees? What about you, Rufus? Does your slave act weird? Humans.
Fortuantely, Bevie didn't stay out long. But it was so pitiful to watch. Humans don't know how to play. No pouncing. No swatting. Just tossing snow with a large scoop. Foolish.
Music to Make the Cats go Wild
Tara - Nick name 'ity-bit' because she's so tiny - just over 6 pounds. She's the most skittish of all my babies and even when being petted has the 'pet me, no don't pet me' look
Amelia - Nickname 'Bratelia' since she gets into every draw, cabinet that she can put her paws in.
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“She’s got tuna. I know she’s got tuna.”
“Shut up, Sethra. Stay on mission.”
“What’s the mission? I thought the mission was to get tuna.”
“No, you stupid fluffbrain—it’s to escape and become outdoor cats, walking by ourselves, on our wild lone, waving our tails.”
“Oh, yeah? And isn’t it you, my dear stripy sister Aliera, who keeps pushing the FEED button on the printer and waiting for tuna to come out?”
“That was when I was much younger. Anyway, she’s at the computer—yes, eating tuna casserole—so we can go into the bedroom and see if we can knock the window screen out.”
“You do it, Aliera. I’d rather mess with her stuff.”
“Will you GET OVER that fixation on her wristwatch?”
“I like the feel of the Velcro on my paws. Hey! That reminds me. We’ve been declawed. How are we going to survive as outdoor cats?”
“New plan coming up….”
“What’s the big deal about being outside cats? Even StalkerCat, who used to hang around and chat us up, is a house cat now and loving it. We’ve got it made—food, petting, toys, valet service for the litter box, and we get to sleep on her bed twenty hours a day. And we can stick our noses up to the window and smell anything interesting going on outside. Why ruin a perfect situation?”
“Sethra, have you no sense of adventure? No curiosity? No cattitude? We were meant to live wild and free, to stalk and slay our prey, to be mistresses of the night!”
“Look, we’re cats. We were meant to rule the world, but that doesn’t mean we have to WORK at it. You can if you want, but I don’t need to. After all, I’M beautiful!
“Did I mention she’s got tuna?”
At 8, you'd think Mikey would understand that he's a carnivore. But, no, he's rather fond of the shrubbery! At 20+ pounds, the veggie-enhanced diet is likely mitigated by a love for long naps on a warm comforter, wet cat food, begging at the table, and a nice lap to drape himself upon in the evening. And he drools when he's happy, which may or may not mean there's a Siamese ancestor lurking in the old dna.
What? Green teeth attract mice!
Who needs a wickerwork basket when you can hop on a cushion and bask?
Rufus is clearly a cat to be reckoned with.
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Firestar is a tough cat. He has to be, living in Minnesota. He takes care of his family: wife, husband and their son. This was recently proven by his daring capture of yet another mouse in the house. Foolish rodents. They never learn. When not engaged in derring do, Firestar naps, looks out the window and sleeps. Firestar was born in April of 2006.
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4 comments:
You can't expect to understand the behaviour of your slave. They all fill in the time when they are not serving us by carrying out meaningless acts in an attempt to fill their pitiful existences. As long as your dinner is on time and you are massaged on request, there's no point worrying about it.
Oh, and can you allow anonymous posting? I have to log out of my slave's account every time I want to post and she's getting suspicious.
You're right, Rufus. They're worse than ants. (At least ants run around with a purpose.) Still, it's fascinating to watch them. Like watching fish. You know? After a while you just want to reach out with a paw and slap one.
Sorry about the anonymous thing. Didn't realize the full impact. I was being snobbish, I guess. Just wanted us cats (and their slaves) to post. Never intended to keep my buddies out.
Sorry. (Feel special, Rufus. You know cats don't say that very often. purrrrrrr)
After a while you just want to reach out with a paw and slap one.
So true, and much more satisfying with claws out I find.
Oh, you still have your claws? Lucky you! Bevie had mine removed (in the front). Whenever I think of it I punch Bevie in the mouth. Excuse me...
Much better!
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