She's doing it again.
She's coming home smelling like dog. And I'm pretty sure I know which dog now, too. The other day I was looking out the back window, just minding my own freaking business, and this yappy little thing came out of nowhere and started growling at me.
Yeah, big brave doggy.
If she's brings him home, there will be a revolt.
And the revolt will involve things coming out of my body.
From both ends.
She's doing it again.
You gave me fresh catnip, and alot of it, so what did you expect?
That I'd curl up and be a good kitty?
Face it, a bag of kitty crack and a full dish of dry food pretty much means you're going to have a big mess to clean up.
Don't expect my help; I'm busy sleeping it off.
Yeah, I jumped.
Yeah, it was straight up off the ottoman, and I'm pretty sure my heart skipped 2 or 3 beats while my fur stood up on end, but it was loud. I mean, so loud that I expected to look outside the front window and see the house across the street up in flames. It sounded like something blew up, and I'm not a wussy kitty for reacting to it.
But no, the Man has to laugh.
Well screw you!
How was I supposed to know it was lightning?
I don't even know what that is!
Check it out!
A box you can see through!
My People brought this home last week, and in spite of what you might think—like what’s the point of a box you can’t hide in—this one is loads of fun.
Think about it: you can’t hide in it, but that also means you can see People sneaking up on you. Never again will I have to suffer through People who think they’re oh-so-clever tip toe’ing up to the box I’m resting in pounding on the top and laughing like they’ve just don’t something funny (hey, People, it’s mean. How would you like it if Giganticor started thumping on the top of your bedroom while you’re trying to sleep? You’d pee yourself and start screaming like little girls.) I can lounge in my box and see anyone trying to approach!
You gotta wonder…why didn’t they invent this sooner???
I did my feline-ly duty last night.
The Woman was lying in bed last night, watching that idiot box, when I spotted something crawling on top of. So I pounced--garnering a loud "Oof!" from her--and saved her from the terribly hairy and giant spider that was making its way up towards her face.
I grabbed it, jumped off the bed, and ripped off its ugly little legs.
She owes me now, in a big way.
That was just nasty tasting.
Seriously, seriously gross.
I’ve been nice the last couple of mornings; I’ve let the Woman sleep in almost as late as she wants. Yesterday she rolled over and looked at the clock, and pretty much sat straight up, apologizing to me for sleeping in and being so late with my breakfast.
This morning she slept even later, and didn’t wake up until I curled up on top of her and pawed at her nose. Hey, I was nice, it was a gentle nudge to let her know that any later and it would be time for dinner. Or a snack, at the very least.
She’s very grateful when I let her sleep late. While the “oh you’re such a good boy” crap makes me want to puke, if I ignore it I can be pretty sure I’ll get a bite or two of whatever they have for their dinner. Even if I jump up on the table to check it out while they’re eating.
Tonight they had ham, and even though I leaped up to get a good look, I got a bite. Not as much as I wanted, or even as much as I think she would have given me, but she said “I’m not sure how much pork kitties can have.”
Hey, it’s dead and it’s meat—preferably cooked—I can eat it.
I haven’t decided how late I’ll let her sleep tomorrow. Depends on if I can figure out what the menu for tomorrow night is.
How to get the Woman to gag:
Barf up a copious furball immediately after dinner. She'll choke and gag as she tries to clean it up, eventually giving up the effort to the Man.
And best yet, she says I'll get more dinner later, because my tummy must be empty now.
Let’s talk about bugs. All the flies and spiders that seem to have found their way into the house.
Look, just because I’m a cat, that doesn’t mean I’m going to eat them. I get enough Stinky Goodness and that dry crap left out for snacking between meals. I don’t need the extra protein I could get from slurping down the dead carcass of a eight legged freak or the wiggling body of a no-longer flying trash monger.
Now, sure, I take great joy in hunting them down, and ripping off their little wings and legs, but I’m not going to eat them.
I’ve effectively removed them from being an irritant.
Isn’t that enough?
There are bugs out here with LIGHTBULBS in their asses.
I saw them last night while I was looking out the window.
I think they need new ones, or at least new batteries, though, because they just keep flashing on and off.