Wow, you know when People don't get enough sleep, they look like doody all day long... I don't know why the Woman stayed up until 4 in the morning, but then she got up to feed us at 7:15, and even though she went back to bed she couldn't get back to sleep. It had nothing to do with me standing next to her head, meowing, no matter what she says. And I'm pretty sure it had nothing to do with Buddah trying to get the window blinds open. But man, she looks kind scary today...
Yeah, I don't know why Buddah and I both crawled into bed with the Woman this morning and woke her up by NOT fighting, but we did. And I don't know why she didn't get mad that we were waking her up when it was still dark out, but she didn't. She just pet us both, and we all curled up and went to sleep.
I've had this odd compulsion to be very nice to her today--I've sat in her lap and let her smother me with kisses on the top of my head, and I haven't been really snarky to her all day--but I don't like it. It's just not natural.
Hopefully it's just a one day thing and I'm not getting sick again. That would totally bite.
What's wrong with waking someone at 6 a.m. just to be petted?
Does it matter if I do it every morning?
Is it a problem if I do it just an hour after singing the most beautiful Stairway melody?
Will they ever appreciate me?
Merry Christmas everyone! I hope you had as much fun as Buddah and I did. He was like a little crackhead, but I got into it, too, mostly trying to jam my head into the biggest box of crunchy treats I've ever seen. There were lots of toys, but honestly, I just wanted the treats. And the People gave us tons of treats today, even some turkey and ham. The little crackhead that he is, Buddah likes ham more than turkey. I mean sheesh, it's turkey!
Oh, and in spite of the picture, Buddah really isn't bigger than me. He's actually a lot smaller still. The Man took the picture so I'm not sure what he did, but Buddah does look big in it. I'm not sure he's ever going to be as tall as I am, so if he winds up weighing as much he's going to be really FAT. But it's ok because I don't think he cares. As long as he has toys and someone to tell him how cute he is he's happy.
That won't be me. Nope.
I've been sitting here, thinking, in between bouts of trying to get someone to feed me early. I feel like I really missed someone special by not finding Eppy's blog sooner, and I know there are prbably lots of other kitty blogs out there and I want to know all the good kitties of the blogosphere.
So please, take a look at the links I have to the
left right; if you know of a kitty blog that's not there, please tell me in the comments. I want to visit them and spread my snarkiness around.
Oh, and since I don't know if Buddah will brag on himself, yesterday one of the rude cats came to the back door while he was sitting there, and he popped the glass just like I showed him, and tried to make a ferocious growl (he doesn't quite have that down yet) and he made the rude kitty go away.
He did it good enough that I rewarded him by letting him be on top of the climbing tower with me for a while last night, and I didn't try to stuff him down the hole.
The cats and dogs who Came Before Us are at the bridge, waiting to meet you and play with you and take care of you until you see your Cowboy again. We're going to miss you...I wish I had found you online long before I did.
Sheesh, the People are "busy" and I'm shut out of being able to use the computer. You'd think the Woman would just leave the top open so that I could get to it, but nooooooo...that would be the nice thing to do.
So. Yeah. I like muffins. I like cake, too. But when they have stuff like that are they willing to shre? Noooooo...that would be the nice thing to do. Oh I got a minisucle little bite, but barely enough to taste it. The only good thing was that Buddah was upstairs asleep, and he didn't get anything at all.
The Younger Human is having macaroni and cheese, and I bet I don't get any other THAT either!
The first rule of making muffins: Max always gets a bite.
The second rule of making muffins: Max gets another bite.
The third rule of making muffins: If Max doesn't get a bite, something is going to meet an ugly, ugly toothy death.
Look, if you're ging to open a can of tuna, I am going to want some.
If you are going to sit there and eat that tuna, I am going to want some more.
And if you put that tuna on a cracker, you can bet I'm going to try to knock that cracker right out of your hand, because I want it.
I'm just sayin'...
Ha! He did it. It was too much to resist--Buddah got caught nibbling on the Christmas tree.
And no, I didn't warn him ahead of time that it's plastic.
Let the games begin!
Ok, no matter what I say to the little bugger, I can't get Buddah to mess with the Christmas tree. I've told him how fun it is, I've told him it annoys the People which makes it even twice as much fun, and I've told him that if he can get to the top without knocking the whole thing over Santa will bring him an extra toy (I'm pretty sure about that last one. Santa would be impressed.) I've even told him that I can't mess with it until he does, because it's tradition for the youngest to get first whack at it, and I'd really like to mess with it, so he needs to.
But he won't.
He's rubbed against the lower branches and sniffed hard at the fiber optic thingies, and he likes to get behind it, but he won't chew on it or bat at it or climb it. What kind of cat is he??? If he doesn't start screwing around with the tree, I certainly can't because I don't want to hear any "Oh, be more like Buddah" crap, but I want to bite the tree! I want to play with the dangling thingies!
Buddah ruins everything!
Well they finally put the tree up. We haven't done anything to it yet; Buddah's not too sure about it but I can tell he's warming up to it being there. I'm waiting to start yanking the plastic hanging thingies off until the People have relaxed and decided I'm going to leave it alone. Yeah, we all know what the odds of that are.
After they got it up they started chasing us around with the flashing thing. And now there are new pictures at Max & Buddah December 2005. You can click on them and see bigger pictures.
Now if they would just go to bed so we can get to work...
All this moving around of stuff and they didn't even bring in the inside tree! I had kind of hoped that was the whole reason, because we were getting our tree. I hope they bring it in soon. I want to see how much trouble Buddah gets in for climbing it. And you know he's going to try...
I don't like a lot of change. I really don't like a lot of change.
So what do the People do? They start moving furniture around, add a really big table, move more stuff... They moved the Supreme Commander Kitty Tower! I liked where it was! It was right where we could jump onto the table if we wanted. Now it's where we can jump onto a counter, but that's not the table!
Oh, and they didn't even have the decency to bolt the Supreme Commander Kitty Tower to the wall right away. I jumped onto it and it swayed and tilted away from the wall a little. My tail coulda gotten caught there!
People...leave stuff alone! Really now.
I don't know what my problem was yesterday; I felt fine all day, had to work the Woman in a major way to get Stinky Goodness a little before the regularly scheduled Stinky Goodness time, but by the time I got upstairs after dinner, I didn't feel so hot. So I threw up. All over the floor in the Woman's office.
It was a good one, too, all chunky from dinner...and she didn't discover it for like TWO HOURS, so it sat there and got all gnarly. She got paper towels to scoop up the chunks (and choked and hacked her way through it, since barf makes her want to hurl) and then the Man got out the carpet cleaning monster and tried to get the stain out.
Ha. That stain's gonna be there a while.
I curled up on the bed in the room where the Man plays his computer games, and the Woman came in to see if she could figure out just who had done the barfing, me or Buddah, and when she touched me she said I felt really hot, so she was pretty sure it was me. She petted me for a bit and then said she would leave me alone so I could rest, and made Buddah go with her.
She doesn't realize he came back 5 minutes later, but he wasn't a butthead. He just wanted to be in the same room.
I felt fine when I woke up this morning. The Man came home from passing gas and opened my favorite Stinky Goodness, and it stayed down. But those people are going to fuss over me until they're sure I'm okay. I swear, that Woman seems to think I'm just going to keel over one afternoon. I don't think it's occured to her that maybe SHE gave me cooties and made me throw up. She's always kissing the top of my head. That would make anyone hurl.
The only good thing about barfing is that someone else has to clean it up.
That Stinky Goodness was tasty going down.
Coming up, not so much.
We have one of these.
It's not like a space heater, it's a heater thingy that only heats up the person or kitty sitting in front of it. At the risk of sounding really stoooopid, I big pink puffy heart this thing. It's one of the most awesome things ever created.
But the Woman has not turned it on for me yet. And Buddah doesn't even know of its magnificance! The Man has used it in the bathroom while he soaks in the tub, but I'm not about to lie on the edge of the tub just to get some heated wonder going.
So, since the Woman has not yet used it in the office...turn up the freaking heat!
I heard the People talking about Christmas earlier...I'm hoping that means that we get our inside tree soon, and then Santa will come. I had a hard, hard year, so I deserve a really good present, right???
TURN THE HEAT UP!
Or I will poop on your pillow.
Oh, like straddling Buddah from behind and sinking my teeth into his neck until he squeals like a stuck pig isn't fair payback...
OK, it's almost that time of year again.
What are we going to ask Santa to bring us?
And do I have to get Buddah something, or just let Santa take care of it?
Come on...what are you asking Santa for???
Ok, so the People redeemed themselves. They went out to eat, but they brought home some turkey for Buddah and me. And it wasn't a tiny bit, it was almost as much as a serving of Stinky Goodness. Better yet, Buddah only took a couple of bites and then let me have the rest of his--and the People didn't stop me. The Woman said, "If Buddah doesn't want it, it's yours." And Buddah walked away and went to the back door to look outside, and then he went to look under the dishwasher, so I got to eat his turkey, too.
We also get to have our Stinky Goodness later! Maybe I'll let him have a couple bites of mine, just to be nice.
The People have pie for themsevles for later. I don't think I like pie but I bet Buddah does. I need to be sure to tell him if he jumps on one of them and sticks his face in the plate real quick, he can get a bite before they know what's happening. If nothing else, it'll make for a good laugh.
7:30 p.m. We did not get dinner time Stinky Goodness until 7:30 p.m.
To make things worse, last night the Woman got the bright idea of trying to make me take the Big Awful Thing without grinding it up and mixing it with my food. She figured that since I feel good, I would not fight. And it worked last night; I was so surprised that she would pick me up and set me in her lap as if I was going to get petted, and then pry my mouth open and jab her finger down my throat that it worked.
But tonight...oh, I expected it tonight. I let her put me in her lap, and when she pried my mouth open, I knew what I had to do. She got that finger in my mouth and I chomped down. I choped so hard she couldn't move her finger, and then I used my tongue to push the Big Awful thing out the side of my mouth.
She said a whole bunch of bad words and tried again. Ha! I launched that pill across the floor.
Sadly, the third time is the charm. She really shoved her finger down my throat and I had no choice but to swallow.
And then we got Tuna Stinky Goodness--with gravy!
This better not become a habit. I want my Stinky Goodness ON TIME and I don't want her icky, God-knows-where-it's-been finger in my mouth. I'll take the Big Awful thing in my food, but not like that.
I know why she's doing it. She's planning on cutting back our Stinky Goodness until we never get it again, and I'll still have to take the Big Awful Thing.
Oh, and Happy Thanksgiving to all my fellow kitties. I hope you get lots of turkey. We won't, because the Woman is too lazy to cook one. They're going OUT to eat! They keep mumbling about her back and owie, and this and that, but I know the truth. They don't want me to have any turkey.
Stupid Denny's, for not allowing cats...
Ha! The Man and the Woman weren't here when the Younger Human home today, and apparently no one told him that dinner has been pushed back from Acceptable Time to Way Too Late--so he fed us! They got home like 15 mintes later, but by then we'd already scarfed down that wonderous Stinky Goodness and were curled up, digesting.
So PHHHFFFFFTTTT to the People.
I have horrible, horrible People.
In all this Oh-Buddah-Is-A-Big-Boy-And-Needs-Big-Boy-Food they neglected to mention one very important thing:
They decided to switch us from getting Stinky Goodness 3 times a day to 2. Why? Because the little monster couldn't eat an entire can of kitten food in 2 feedings, so we were getting it 3 times a day, but NOW he can eat a can of good Stinky Goodness in just 2 meals, so we're getting the shaft on our night time snack!
Oh, the Woman says I'm still getting the same amount of food, but I don't care! I want my snack! I was happy getting that snack! So what if I only used to get it twice a day before I got sick. I don't care!
I WANT MY SNACK!
Buddah hasn't been leaving food on his plate because he's sick or anything; he's been doing it because he doesn't really like it. He would much prefer to have REAL Stinky Goodness, not the stuff intended for kittens that passes for Stinky Goodness. I think it tastes just fine, but he got into a stubborn streak. He'd eat a little bit because it was there, but once he had a taste or two he'd walk away.
So the People caved. They fed him the good stuff tonight, and he ate so fast I'm surprised he didn't inhale the plate.
This doesn't negate the fact that I should have been allowed to finish what he didn't, but it'll be a non-issue now.
On one hand I'm a little miffed because I really liked his food, but on the other hand, I taught him well. He held out for what he wanted and got it. I'm impressed enough that I think I'll only shove him down a few stairs tonight instead of the whole staircase.
Then agan, the brain dead twit likes that, so his feelings might be hurt...
There's rules around here. And one of the rules is that if Buddah doesn't want his Stinky Goodness, I get to finish it. That's a rule and People can't change it.
But do they pay attention to the rules? No!
The last couple of nights Buddah has left a little bit on his plate, but before I can lick it up the People take the dish away and wash the food off! How rude.
Millions of cats are starving, and they're wasting food.
I could eat that!
Buddah thinks I'm some kind of hero. Eh, let him. I chased a cat away from the back door last night, but only because it was an incredibly rude cat. I mean, you don't go looking into another cat's house without an invitation. If it had been nice and at least said hello, I probably would have let it stay.
But no...It looked in, saw Buddah, and started spitting and growling.
I don't know who that cat's People are (and even though it didn't have a collar on it was really fat, so I'm sure it has People) but they need to teach it some manners.
I bet it poops in our yard, too.
It better watch out...some day Buddah's going to be bigger, and braver, and he'll bite a kitty right on the winky.
Man...I was t h i s close to getting fed twice this morning. The Woman actually dragged her sorry butt out of bed before the Man got home from passing gas and opened up the Stinky Goodness for Buddah and me. Then she went upstairs to get dressed and the Man came home--he actually had a can open and was ready to plop some of that meaty wonder onto a plate when the Younger Human opened his mouth and said that we'd already eaten.
Then later while the Younger Human and the Woman were having dinner (they didn't feed the Man, but I don't know why...he had to fix his own food later) I noticed there were wiggly things in the dry food. I sat there and stared at it, trying to decide if I should say something. I figured the chances of either of them giving a damn that I was in distress was only about 50-50, but I decided to try anyway. The Woman actually looked over and asked what was wrong, and when she saw me loking at the dish she asked if there was something in it.
Well, duh, that's why I was staring at it and complaining.
Ants. The food dish and the water fountain were loaded with ants. She said a bad word or two, told the Man about it, and he went off to get something to take care of them (after he called his dad. He had to call Daddy to find out what to do! Ha!) But cripes, because of those ants Buddah and I got locked up in a bedroom for a long time. Like it was our fault the ants got in the house in the first place.
So now our dry food and water is up on a counter in the kitchen. I hope it stays there, 'cause I like being on the counter. Buddah says it's cool, but he wishes the food would stay on one place for at least ten minutes, because he never knows where it's going to be.
Get used to it, kid. They can never make up their little minds.
Oh, she thought she was sneaky, putting my bed on the floor under the warm air blowing thingy. She thought I would decide it was more comfy than sleeping on top of her. She thought she could get rid of me at night.
Well, she was right. At least for last night. It was warm and comfy and a whole lot better than trying to snooze on top of all her lumps and bumps. And trust me, she's got lots of them.
She even put a bed there for Buddah, but he won't even try it. The little monster has no idea what he's missing...
Coolness...the way the People set up stuff, we can get up on top of the cabinets and jump to the top of the china cabinet. And the way they set up the Supreme Commander Kitty Tower, we can get to the top of another cabinet and then to the bookcases. This whole house is like a kitty jungle gym.
To show our appreciation, we've been sleeping on top of the Woman at night, keeping her warm. It does get kind of cold in here at night and we figure she needs the fur to stay nice and toasty. And it must be working because more than once she's said "Oh, thanks a lot."
I do what I can.
Okay, this place is freaking huge! Not only are there stairs to run up and down, but there are all these rooms, and they're all pretty big. Right now there are boxes all over the place and the People still have some things to bring over from the apartment--like my Supreme Commander Kitty Tower--but we have lots of running space and tons of things to explore.
I was less than thrilled with the actual day of moving. The Woman locked us in the bathroom--no surprise there--but the cool air blowing thingy didn't seem to work in there, so it got hot, and after a while it was pretty stinky. It was so stinky that when the Woman opened the door up to let us out a million hours later she covered her mouth and said "Holy crap, it stinks!"
Yeah, well, lady, trying staying in that stink all day.
Buddah was a little freaked out when we were let out of the bathroom. It was like "where's our stuff? The stuff is all gone!" and I would have made fun of him but I remember what that feels like. Last time we moved I thought we'd been robbed. He just didn't know that moving means the stuff goes first.
We slinked around the apartment for a little bit and the doofus got into his tomb all by himself, so the Woman shut it and decided it was a good time for me to get into mine. Once we were in the car I started in with "Are we there yet? Are we there yet?" over and over and over, and Buddah chimed in so the Woman was getting it in stereo. And she kept saying, "Just a couple more minutes. We'll be there in a minute or two."
And then we were there. I don't think either of us knew what to look at first. There's so much space to investigate, and everything smells kind of funky, so every time we turn around there's something new. I'm not thrilled that there obviously used to be a dog in here, but he seems to be gone, so I'm not throwing a fit over it. And as excited as Buddah is, he's still a little scared.
But dang...he's not just excited, he'sexcited. Upstairs he can run around so fast I get dizzy just watching him, and downstairs he tries but he can't get the hang of making corners on the wood floor. His butt slides out from under him and he goes crashing into things. He wants to get into everything at once and I think his little head is going to pop trying to decide where to go and what to do and when. And I'm being nice to him; I'm letting him sleep with me when he needs to not be alone.
I didn't want to move, but now that we're here, this place looks to be quite adequate. Lots of space to run, stairs to throw things down, and lots of windows to look out of.
We may stay, the People now have the Official Permission.
The nightmare never ends...
The People have been busy all week moving stuff out of the apartment and tomorrow is the "big" day when all the furniture goes. At least this time I know what's going on and won't be so surprised when they let us out of the bathroom (you know we're going to spend the day locked up in there) and everything is gone.
I'll be glad when it's over...
Cripes. He wouldn't get out of my basket so I plopped down on top of him, thinking he'd get all squished and upset, but he liked it! I really do think one of the People dropped him on his head at some point...
In other news, boxes are being taken out of the apartment.
It has begun...
The basket of towels in the bathtub is mine! It's my napping place! And the Woman won't make Buddah get out! I tried plopping down right on top of him and he LIKED it.
He won't move!
If he doesn't get out of my basket soon, I'm going to curl up in his special place in the hamper and see how he likes that!
He bit me on the ass! That little monster walked up behind me, bit, and then ran!
I am so going to push him down the stairs when we move.
"Max," she said as I was jamming my nose up her left nostril, "you obviously feel like your old self again. And I'm not sure that's a good thing."
Well, bite me, old lady.
"You talk all night long..."
"...you spend an awful lot of time on my lap..."
What of it?
"...and you're downright rude about it."
Yeah? And your point is...?
"You're acting more and more like you did when we lived in Ohio. Like you feel really good now."
And that's a bad thing?
"I'm glad you're back to normal, but damn...shut up once in a while!"
From 1 p.m. to 4:30 p.m., while I nap, I shall be quiet.
If you want quiet sleep, I suggest you be in bed then, because come 2 a.m., I'm singing my little heart out.
Usually she complains that we eat too fast, now she's complaining that we ate our snack too slow.
What the heck do People want??? Sheesh.
Who'da thunk it? A kind of Stinky Goodness I don't like. The Man gave me Chicken Hearts & Liver this morning, and I disliked it so much that I refused to eat. Well, that and there was medicine in my food, which made it taste even worse... Later in the day they were desperate to get the medicine into me, so they opened up a can of Fish & Shrimp--Stinky Goodness of The Gods--and I ate that in as few bites as I possibly could.
The last few nights I've been singing in the bathroom, and the way the Woman acts you'd think it was horrible or something. She's focused on her lack of sleep, not the art of my sterling vocals. You'd think by now she would learn to appreciate the finer things in life.
The Woman did not make the computer available to me yesterday; every time I thought about wanting to use it the top was closed and she was alseep. Right in the middle of the freaking day! Just snoozing the day away. I tried asking a few times, but she was so far off in LaLa land there was no getting through to her.
I'm not surprised. She was up most of the night before, making gross and disturbing bodily noises. At one point I poked my head up out of the tub (yes, was I sleeping there. What about it?) and asked "What the hell was that?" If that had been me, she would have whisked me off to the stabby place first thing in the morning. But does she go to the stabby place herself?
Hell no, that would make sense. She just stayed in bed all day, alternating between watching bad TV and sleeping. Buddah and I both jumped up on the bed to see if she was still breathing; since he wiped his butt across her sheets and she had to get up to stick them in the washing maching, we were satisfied she wasn't going to die on us.
That would have been bad. Who would open the cans of Stinky Goodness when the Man is off passing gas???
Ya know, I'm just going to accept the inevitable. I can't stop the People from moving, and the more I think about it the more I figure it won't be too bad. I don't like the idea of going to somewhere with new smells and rooms that I have to get used to, but at least now I know that moving doesn't mean losing all my stuff.
I've missed having windows I can see stuff out of. And maybe there will be Sticky Little People there I can watch play outside. And the People say the new place is much bigger, with lots of places to explore. And I do miss stairs.
I just don't like the idea of actually moving. The Woman says she's worried about what the stress of moving will do to me...I'm kinda worried about that, too, because I am gonna be stressed out and that makes my tummy hurt an awful lot.
The People brought some toys home today...Buddah destroyed one in about 5 minutes. I never got to play with it! I probably wouldn't have played with it, but that's not the point! I should have had a chance!
Maybe Buddah will get lost in the move...!
The People really are gonna do it. They're going to implement the "M" word and force us out of our nice, cozy domicile. They think this place is too small and that they're tripping over each other, but I think it's fine.
Now, the Woman did say that there are windows to really see out of, ones that aren't blocked by bushes, and we'll have stairs to play on, but still... Moving is a pain in the butt and I would rather not.
Buddah doesn't know about stairs. He's going to have a lot of fun running up and down them. And he doesn't know about looking outside a window you can really see out of, especially an upstairs window. I can try to explain, but he doesn't get it, he's going to have to see for himself.
Evidently it's going to be a couple more weeks before we actually have to leave here...all the more time for me to get more and more ticked off.
The only thing that's going to make this worth it is those windows and stairs.
OK. The People were out, then came home, and fed us early.
I think I should worry about that. We never get fed early. Usually it's late.
They're up to something, I just know it.
Coming home an hour late for dinner is not acceptable. The only good thing about it was that the Younger Human fed us when he got home, and he gave me MORE than those People do...
Coming home late is especially unacceptable when looking for a place to move to.
They could have at least brought home some special treats, but nooooo...why bother thinking about the kitties they left behind? I was even nice to the Woman today and napped while stretched across her neck as she watched a little TV this afternoon. You think THAT would get me a treat or two...
AND the Woman obviously ate some fish while they were out. I can smell it on her. Did she bring any home?
Noooo.... THAT would have been nice. God forbid she does nice...
I'm so ticked, I refuse to play in any of the boxes the man has brought home.
I have to give the little monster some credit here... this morning there was an off chance that the Woman might give us treats in the kitchen, so we scrambled to get there as fast as we could, and halfway down the hall he leap-frogged right over me. His grimey little paws never once touched me. Just up in the air, sailing right over me, and he landed without getting his butt in my face.
You'd think that after witnessing that--plus the fact that we ran nicely together and no one tackled anyone else--she would have gotten us treats, but noooooo, all she got was the newspaper.
I'm used to all the disappointment that comes from living with these People, but you'd think she'd spare a baby from it...
Well, he doesn't look like a baby anymore, he's over 8 pounds already, but for all intents and purposes (meaning when we want snacks) he's still a baby.
These People just don't deserve us.
The Woman wants to know why I like to stand on her lap and then rub my face against hers so hard that my lips wind up smearing across hers.
Well, lady...it's that I just finished licking my own butt, and I wanted to share.
Even drugged and looped to the proverbial gills, I'm still the king. The People shoved this pill down my throat this morning, and I got all warm and fuzzy and quite relaxed...but then the Man took me to the stabby place. Drugged or not, I still fought hard and pooped all over everything.
The bald guy asked the Man to leave me there for a while so he could give me a shot to make me even more loopy. I was all for that. But then he decided I was loopy enough, and before I realized what he was doing he stabbed me in the leg and got my blood anyway. And THEN someone BATHED me. Like I can't do that myself! They only washed my butt off, but still...
I would hope the People realize that I feel just fine. I think I proved that with a lot of toothy growling and biting and pooping at the stabby place. There's no need to take me back.
I overheard the Woman talking to the Younger Human, and apparently they think they're taking me back to the stabby place tomorrow for "followup blood work."
They need to think again.
She did say the stabby place gave them a drug to give me before they take me over...I might be willing to take the Fun Drug, but I will not willingly allow myself to be stabbed again.
Tonight's poop must be saved up, just in case.
You know, if you spend all day whining "play with me, play with me!" and I finally do play with you, don't start crying for some person to come rescue you just because I'm sitting on your scrawny little butt. If you're gonna play like a big kitty, you have to take it like a big kitty. And a big kitty won't get alloh save me! over a measily 15 pound cat butt squashing theirs...
If you don't want chocolate pudding on your big comfy chair, then don't leave the cup where a kitty can get hold of it and carry it there.
(and for once it wasn't me...)
So here's another way to drive your People nuts. short trip, eh? Spend a couple of days getting one of them to become your furniture--bed, chair, bathtub--all your furniture. If they're sitting down, give them The Look, watch as they rearrange their sitting position to accomodate your furry little body, and then jump up. Curl up and sleep for a good 2-3 hours, bathe, get down and get a snack, then jump back up. All day long.
People are insane. They'll totally go for it.
Then, on the 3rd day, wait for your Chosen One to sit down and then stand in fron tof them with The Look, maybe even meow a little. They'll make a lap, pat their legs and say "well, come on."
Tilt your head to one side, say "Meow" softly, and walk away.
The person will sigh hard; come back a few minutes later and repeat. They'll still make a lap for you. This time when you walk away, swish your tail just =so=.
Your person will totally irritated and insulted.
Your work will then be complete.
Wait a few days, then repeat.
Today, she was my furniture.
Yep, everytime she sat down, I was there, in her lap. When she sat at the computer, I jumped up there and made myself comfortable, even grabbing her arm to use as a pillow. When she plopped down on the bed to watch a little TV, I curled up on her, occassionally stirred to bathe myself. When she went out into the living room and sat in the big comfy chair, my butt was plastered to her lap before she could pick up the TV clicker thing.
She calls me Velcro Kitty when I do this, and at first she thinks it's funny, but after 5 or 6 hours of 15 pound kitty on her lap, she does tend to find it annoying.
And that amuses me.
She thinks I'm feeling needy and in want of some attention, but no. I just want to take enough time to thoroughly, completely annoy her. And when I'm not in her lap, I'm meowing to get her to make a lap for me. And the insane part? She does it! And she sits there until she has to pee so bad it's about gushing out her ears! The only time she makes me get up is when she's about to pop, or it's time to feed the kitties, or the Man wants to go somewhere.
This makes her once and again--as always--my witch widda 'B'...
The Woman and I had a conversation last night. She was sitting at her desk, looking at the computer, and I was sitting on the bed, trying to get her to get off her butt and let me have it for a while. She barely turned her head to look at me and said, "According to everything I've been reading, we need to put you on a low fat diet for your pancreas."
Excuse me? I don't think so. I am notgiving up my Stinky Goodness!
"If we didn't have to give you your meds, we could do away with the wet food..."
And I can gnaw your eyeballs out while you sleep, too...
"And we should reduce your stress levels."
Fine, get rid of Buddah.
"But you dont exactly have stress. You eat and sleep and poop."
Buddah is my source of stress!
"Moving is going to be stressful on you, isn't it?"
I won't like it, but there's bigger stress in my life!
"We keep thinking that having a bigger place will give you guys more room to play."
Fine. More room is nice. But who says I want to play...? I'm really just trying to kill the little monster.
Then she turned and lifted me onto her lap and rubbed the top of my head and said, "Buddah is kind of stressful on you, isn't he? I'm sorry... He'll get better as he gets older."
I'd prefer not to wait that long. Get rid of him.
"We'll figure something out."
Yeah. I'll believe that when I see it.
It was a stroke of genius, if I do say so myself.
The Woman was so worried about how far I could get my mouth open? Well I showed her! I went into the bathroom when it was still dark, probably a little before 5 this morning, got into the basket in the bathtub, and started singing. Loudly.
She got up and stumbled in, all worried that I might be puking up a lung or something. She flipped the light on, squinted, and asked me if I was ok.
I yawned at her.
A great big, mouth fully open, totally honkin' yawn.
Then I got up, turned around, and plopped down with my back turned towards her. Before she left I looked over my shoulder at her and gave her a "I just so totally flipped you off" look.
Maybe that'll teach her.
Well that, and all the poop.
The Man got home from passing gas all night and fed me, so I crawled into a hidy place and curled up to snooze. Next thing I know the Woman is shoving me into that plastic tomb and carrying me out to the car.
I hadn't even digested breakfast yet!
So. I did not bite anyone. That never accomplishes anything, anyway. I never get to leave and if I bite they drug me up and I feel groggy the rest of the day. Nope, I let the bald guy look inside my mouth--he had no trouble getting it open--and then in my ears. Heck, I even let him take my temperature. All the while he's telling me how good I am, how nice I'm being.
So then I did it.
I pooped all over the table. And while he was reaching for the paper towels, I jumped up on the Woman's shoulder, ran down her back, and pooped all over her, too. And it stunk. I mean, you know it's bad when you offend yourself.
He couldn't find anything in my mouth or ears, I didn't growl or hiss when when touched my jaw, but I did have a fever. So then the bad thing happened.
The really bad thing.
He took me to the back room and stabbed me, stealing even more of my blood.
So I pooped on that table. They cleaned me up and put me back in the plastic tomb and took me back out to the Woman, she paid, and on the way home...well, you guessed it.
I pooped a little bit more.
I AM THE POOP KING!
Supposedly the Woman will know more tomorrow about my blood. She says it's good news that I don't appear to need work on my teeth and that I don't seem to have any swelling in my jaw or have an ear infection. But now she has pills to crush to put in my food. I wont complain about that too much, because when we got home--after she cleaned me up more and then took a shower (wonder why she felt she neeed one?)--she fed me again.
Even better than being fed again--she locked Buddah in a room while I got to eat, and he heard her and started howling because he wanted some, too. I think she let him lick her yogurt spoon after because she felt bad for him, but I didn't. I heard him howl, and was laughing my black & white butt off.
I went to the stabby place.
They got no idea what might be wrong.
And I pooped alot.
Nice end to a day that started bad.
They flipped me onto my back, the Woman held me down, and the Man pried my mouth open to peek inside.
Know what they saw?
Nothing! But she still wants to take me to the stabby place because apparently, though my appetite is fine and I'm eating, she's not satisfied with how far I can open my mouth when I yawn.
The only good thing is she's making Buddah leave me alone.
Gah. I need new People.
Mind if I stand here and say bad words? Because I feel like it right now.
I was sitting on the Woman's lap and she kept looking at me funny, asking if I felt okay; she was worried because I kept acting like I was trying to push something out of my mouth with my tongue--well hells bells, people, when you have to lick your fur clean sometimes it gets stuck on your tongue! But I made the mistake of yawning a few times and she decided I couldn't open my mouth all the way, so she says Monday she's calling the stabby place!
WTF? Because I didn't open my mouth all the way? IT WAS A LITTLE YAWN!
But noooo, she's decided maybe I have a cavity or something.
Cripes, sometimes I hate people.
How in the heck did I manage to go so many days without blogging?
The Woman keeps hogging the computer.
She really should buy me one of my own.
Something of the Man's must meet a toothy death. A violent, horrible, maddening toothy death.
He locked me in his closet.
For over two hours!
He always leaves that closet open, so of course I go in there and curl up for some Buddah-free snooze time. It stinks in there (because he also stores his laundry in it) but I don't mind that so much if I can get away from the little crackhead. So in what mindset did he decide to close the freaking door tonight???
Oh, he gave me tuna after, but it doesn't count since Buddah got some, too. Buddah wasn't locked up anywhere. Oh no, he was running around like his little crackhead self.
The People are saying the M word again.
I'd repeat it, but it's a 4 letter word.
It means living in a new place.
I am going to poop on someone's pillow.
I am speaking slowly for the benefit of the People, who just don't seem to learn things very well:
If you leave steak in the trash can, you can expect a cat to try to dig it out.
Lik we'd just leave it there...
If a person doesn't want a cat to sit in her lap and then stick his nose up hers, then she should get up and feed him.
I'm just sayin'...
The People leave my Stinky Goodness container on the counter with a little plastic lid on it, and they expect me to leave it alone? They assume that because I don't have opposable thumbs that I cant get it off?
Well, I taught them a lesson today. They spent all day out of the house, doing God knows what, and I got hungry. I was starving. So I pried the lid off the can, pushed it to the floor, and ate it.
At first they blamed Buddah, until they saw me trying to pry the lid off again.
Wisely, they did not get mad. The Woman said I get points for being clever (I hope that means special treats) and that I would still get dinner tonight. If they had gotten mad, there would have been a toothy death of something of theirs while they slept.
Or poop on something. That's always good for revenge.
We got new boxes today. Not just one, but 3 of them. One great big one, and two smaller ones. Now, I'm happy with one box at a time and can hide in it and play in it and stuff, and I don't need two extra boxes. But Buddah...holy crap, give him 3 boxes and he's Super ADHD Kitty again. He bounces from one box to the next, scrambling and scratching and biting at the cardboard, and it's as if he doesn't know what to do. It's like watching an Animal Planet special: Crackhead Kitties Gone Insane.
He was so unbelieveable that I had to get out of my box and sit on the Woman's comfy chair just to watch him get spastic all over the place. The Woman wanted to know what he was thinking, but I'm pretty sure he wasn't thinking at all. In fact, I'm pretty sure that at the sight of 3 new boxes he sneezed and his little brains fell right out of his head.
He gets going so hard and fast that he runs right into walls...and then he acts like the wall jumped out in front of him and it's not his fault at all.
If I were the People, I'd hide those boxes before going to bed. If they don't, there's either going to be a lot of kitty noise in the middle of the night, or Buddah's head is just going to explode, and there will be a mess to clean up in the morning.
Ok. I'm not getting soft or anything, but there are things much bigger than any of us kitties are small (to paraphrase a really dorky poem the Woman once wrote...) So, instead of buying kitty crack, for the next month, I will donate profits from my Large Print, edited for language edition literary masterpiece to the Red Cross to help the People and pets displaced and left in need by that Katrina thingy.
The Woman is also selling some stuff and all that money will go to the Red Cross, too.
Budah would do something, too, but he's too busy trying to catch his own tail to figure out what.
I'm not sure when the zombies were here, but evidently they were, and one of 'em sucked the Woman's brains right out of her head. It's kind of sad, really, watching her become this saccharine former shell of herself; it's kind of gross, too, having to listen to it.
She's using baby talk with Buddah.
Not the ga-ga goo-goo kind of thing, but it's just as bad. She scoops him up and calls him "baby" or "cutie-pie," or the real gag-me, "sweetykins." What the heck is a sweetykins? And she plants these kisses on his head--and he likes it! Worse, she'll be sitting there in the living room and he'll jump up on her and stick his head near her lips for this rapid fire kiss-kiss-kiss-kiss-kiss thing.
Oh, she's tried that with me, but I'm not having it. For all I know, she's doing it because she's becoming zombified, and if I let her start that kiss-kiss-kiss-kiss-kiss thing with me, she'll suck my brains out, too.
I'm not sure how it happened, perhaps because the Woman stayed awake so late into the night that it threw our timing off, but we never sang for her, Buddah never sat on her, and I did not head butt her nose. When I woke up this morning I had this horrible sick feeling (not that it kept me from eating my wonderful Stinky Goodness breakfast) because that's like forgetting and I'm too smart to forget. I just got sleepy.
But surprise, surprise, the Woman was HAPPY. She's been telling anyone who would listen today about how good we were for her last night. How she had a quiet night and how nice that was. And I bet she thinks we planned it!
Ha! Little does she know...
She was happy with the gift that we didn't intend to give, but what the heck...if it's what she really wanted, I suppose we did good.
Evidently, today was the Woman's birthday but Buddah and I were not informed of this until late in the evening, when it was too late to figure out a way to get her something. I mean, if we had known, we could have talked the Man into going out and spending some of my book money on a piece of shrimp for her, or even some of those Kitty Treats that she eats and won't share. But no one told us, so she opened presents from the Younger Human and the Man, and there Buddah and I were, with nothing to give her.
We have it all planned out. When she goes to bed tonight, we're going to sit by the side of the bed and sing as loudly as we can for her. She loves our singing at 3 a.m. so much that she gets out of bed for it, so we figured she would really love to be serenaded where she wouldn't have to get up to enjoy it.
And then, Buddah is going to jump on the bed and rub his nose across her cheek, and then he's going to sit on her face. When he's done, I'm going to jump on the bed and headbutt her nose. I know she misses me doing that, because she mentioned the other day that it had been so long since I did it that her nose finally healed from her surgery 3 years ago. So she must want me to do it again.
After that, we'll amuse ourselves so she can go to sleep. And that will be our birthday present to her. She's going to be so happy.
Yep, last night we got steak. And a fair amount, not some microscopic teaser. The Woman cut up enough for both of us that it was like getting a big snack.
There's this rule here: if the kitty is a good kitty and doesn't beg or doesn't jump on the table when the People are eating something especially tasty, like steak, then the kitty gets a bite. I've been worried that Buddah would do something stupid and ruin it, but he's never begged. He just stands on the counter and stares at the food on the table like he's starving to death. I haven't told him it's okay to meow once in a while to remind the People that we're there; he's doing good just sitting there. And the People think it's cute, and cute works when there's food involved.
The other rule is if the kitty can do something cute that's almost like begging but really isn't, he still gets a bite. I'm a tall kitty, so I can stand on my back legs, put my paws on the table and look to see what's there. If I do that, it gets cute points. Also, if I stand on my back legs and tap one of the People on their leg or elbow, and then sit right down, that gets cute points. But it can't be more than that or it stops being cute, and then there's no tasting the Good Food.
And in other news, the People have decided I do not need an ultrasound. The lady at the stabby place said one option was to do nothing and wait and see how I was...well, the Woman announced that I am back to my very annoying self, waking her up by singing at night and announcing when breakfast is over, and since I'm teaching Buddah to do those things, too, plus running around the house like my butt is on fire (usually 'cause I'm chasing Buddah) she thinks I'm just fine.
I tried to tell her that, but noooooo, let's not listen to the kitty involved!
Complain and/or be cute, and ye shall receive.
The Woman went
slutting around running errands this afternoon, and when she came back she had fresh kitty crack and some spiffy kitty crack pouches for both of us. These things are pretty cool; they feel like sheepy fur on one side, and the crack goes in the middle...Buddah likes to carry his around in his mouth, and I just like to lay down and rub my face on it until I'm pretty high.
I've had one for a year or two, but when Buddah got here he found it and slobbered on it so much it's pretty gross.
I figure she either got tired of me complaining about not having some fresh kitty crack, or I was so cute last night (she was really sad, I was forced to be cute for her) that she decided to reward me. Buddah just gets things by default...
He needs to learn what doing the cute thing means. It does not mean plopping your butt down on top of the Woman's face while she's in bed. Though that was pretty funny...
Things That Are Annoying Me Today
People...why can't you make up your freaking minds? You get another cat and want me to like it. You want me to play with it. You want some interaction that doesn't involve blood and/or me growling at the little monster.
So we give you what you want. We play. We run up and down the hall, through the kitchen, smash into a few walls and doors, up over the table or the Woman's comfy chair, as fast as we can, and what do you do?
You get all "oh you're going to get hurt" and tell us to calm down!!! You might even squirt us!
Make up your mind! Either I play with him or I kill him.
It's my laundry basket.
It's in my tub.
I don't know what he thought he was doing, trying to get in there with me and be all snuggly and chit, but I wasn't having any of it. That was my private napping place! He invaded it!
It will never be the same.
Right now the People are still just "thinking" about having an ultrsound done on me. It was one of the options the lady at the stabby place gave them. One of the other suggestions was to change my Stinky Goodness, and I was having none of that. There might not be anything wrong with my pancrease (is there an e on the end of that freaking word? I can't remember and I'm too lazy to look it up) but those amylase levels were still up the last time they stole some of my blood. I might have been born this way, but because they think I'm moving a little slow sometimes, the People are pondering wasting good money on it.
Hey! People! Guess what! You're comparing me to a 4 month old perpetually whacked out on kitty crack! Of course I look slower! When I was laying around all day soaking up sun spots before you never thought a thing about it, but here comes that little crack head and Oooooooh Max must still be sick!
Do you not see when I chase him up and down the hall and around the living room at 500 miles an hour? That's me chasing HIM. I can move when I want to, but why should want to?
I'm really feeling fine. But the People, their little heads always go to the worst possibility... but the Cat Who Came Before Me got really sick, and if they hadn't gotten her an ultrasound she would have died a lot earlier than she did, so now they have that What If thing hanging over them.
The lady at the stabby place also said they could do nothing and see how I feel in a few weeks. I eat, I beat the chit out of Buddah at least twice a day, and I poop vast quantites. I'm fine!!!!
Because I've been "slow" lately, the People are talking about getting an ultrasound done on me. So I looked it up, and saw that's something human females get when they're about to spawn forth their sticky little offspring.
How bad is it that my People don't realize not only am I the wrong gender to incubate an infant, but they have the tendency to have the things necessary to manage that surgically removed??? And certainly, said offspring would NOT be in my pancrease, which is what they want to look at.
So lady...I'm only slow because that little black monster won't leave me alone. I'm tired! save your money for something good. Like Stinky Goodness.
Ohhhh...spend the money getting someone to invent Stinky Goodness ice cream!
Oh man, Buddah is gonna get himself killed.
He ate the Woman's "special" (read: stupid) hat.
I've been warning her for years that something she owned was going to meet a toothy death, but did she listen?
And all this time she assumed it would be me providing the gruesome act for the amusement of the rest of the world.
That'll teach her.
Buddah does bathe...he just doesn't seem to do a very good job, as evidenced by how much he stinks most of the time. Now really, by forcing-licking him I'm doing him a favor, because my spit obviously smells better than his spit.
Now, the Woman surely appreciates this, she just doesn't appreciate him crying like a sissy when I give him a bath at night. So really, if she would see to his hygeine, we would not be waking her to the sounds of his infantile blubbering.
Singing...that's different. That's art! If we wake her up for the sake of art, that's to her benefit. And it's not my fault if she doesn't simply roll over and go to sleep. She falls asleep to the sound of music all the time! Our serenades should actually have a soothe and calming effect.
She should be thanking us.
Buddah has wisely not repeated the hugging incident of Sunday. He also has not bathed of his own accord, so late last night I had to hold him down and do it for him. He howled like I'd set his whiskers on fire. Normally that would tick me off, but it was 2 a.m. and it woke the Woman up, so it was pretty funny. She stomped out of bed and told us to be quiet, like that ever works.
You know, if the Woman could just get him to pay attention to basic hygiene, we could let her sleep through the night...
Holy cripes. Look at this.
I was sleeping on top of the tower, minding my own business, and the little monster gets up there and just plops down on top of me. You can see how thrilled I looked.
It's just one mass of black and white kitty...he was purring his freaky little head off, as if this were a good thing. It most certainly was not! I got there first, it was my turn to have the top!
Lucky for him he's so little, or I might have just stood up and let him fall.
We found the perfect way to tick the Woman off. And it's so simple! All Buddah and I have to do is wait until she's asleep, and start playing. Of course, our play involves me holding Buddah down and making him cry, but he doesn't seem to mind. I lick him until he's wet, he calls out for help because he hates baths, and she wakes up. Then she comes out of the bedroom, threatens to lock us both in the dryer, and goes back to bed.
We wait until she's been asleep for 10 minutes, and we do it again! So every 20 minutes or so she's getting out of bed to make sure I'm not killing him, she says she's gonna do all kinds of mean things to us that we know she won't, and she goes back to bed. And it irritates the bejeezuz out of her!
We did that for about 3 or 4 hours last night, then took naps for an hour, and then I sat on Buddah til he hollered loud enough to wake her up. After that all we did was talk and THAT irritated her.
I know she's not going to do anything to us. It just ticks her off, and that amuses me.
In a fit of insanity, the Woman put all our food and water in the big bathroom last night, and then locked me in her bedroom. I was stuck in there with her all night long. My only consolation was that Buddah was stuck outside the room, and I had everything there was to eat right there with me.
The Woman took him to the stabby place before she let me out, and because he's nuts he got to come home a little early. Ok, this is how insane Buddah is. He's not upset. It's like "Oh, well, I hurt a little bit, but I got to go for a ride and people played with me!" His only complaint seemed to be hunger.
Well no chit, I had all the food last night.
The Woman fed us a little early tonight and he wolfed his down so hard and so fast I'm surprised he didn't inhale half the kitchen. He was still looking for more so I did the Oh I'm Already Full thing and walked away from my dish so he could have what was left. I'm not that nice; I'd already eaten quite a bit of dry food, and I know the Woman--we'll get another can later just so he can feel full again.
But sheesh...he takes all the fun out of me getting to stay home while he goes off and gets snipped. Kind of makes me want to jump up on top of the climbing thing and shove him off it...
Buddah's getting neutered day after tomorrow, and I'm kind of hoping they pull his freaking teeth while they're at it. That little monster does NOT take a hint, and he's starting to bite way too hard.
Yeah. He's not getting on top of the climbing thingy tonight. I'm going to guard it, and hog it for myself.
My bloodwork came back and my amylase levels are still high. So the lady at the stabby place was all "Oh, let's change his food and put him on canned food that doesn't stink as nice as Stinky Goodness and see if that helps."
I was having none of that. The People plopped that stuff on my plate, and I refused to eat it. I heard the Man on the phone with the lady, and he warned her I might not even try it. So I didn't. And I got my regular Stinky Goodness afterwards.
I'm not sure what they want to do to me next. Maybe something called an ultrasound to look at my pancrease and see if it really is inflamed. I may just be blessed with extra amylase.
That was fast.
The Woman already got a copy of the edited edition of my book. and it looks pretty spiffy.
It's a bigger book overall--we didn't add anything to it, but by going with a larger type size it added pages--and we think we got all the potentially objectionable language.
Now, because this is a special edition the Woman went with a POD press, and people can order directly from them. Unfortunately, it won't be available on Amazon or B&N Online, because the Woman is CHEAP and didn't want to pay for the orinting that would get distribution through those channels.
And the cover makes me look fat.
She just stretched the picture out, so I look fat.
The Man took me to the stabby place this morning. No warning, he just scooped me up and took me over there, where someone who was not the bald guy shaved my neck and stabbed me again. This time they didn't even get me drunk; they just let me howl so loud I think I scared the feathers off the bird they have in the waiting room. For some reason they wanted more of my blood. I swear, if they keep it up, I'm not going to have any left.
Revenge was mine, however. While the vet and her helper had me down, I let loose with a mighty poop. Yep, all over the table, and with any luck, I got them, too. They tried to clean me up, but I was not in a cooperating mood by then, so they put me back into the plastic tomb and took me back out to the Man.
Well. Since he's the one who took me there, I figure he deserved a little revenge, too. So I squeezed out a nice 5 pound poop, and for good measure, I sat in it.
The best part? He had to drive home with me spelling like kitty poop. Sure, the Woman held me down while he washed me off, but it was a nice warm wash cloth and it was so totally worth it.
The lady at the stabby place told the Man that the next time he has to take me there he needs to come over the day before and get some kitty valium so that I can truly enjoy the experience.
Well now. I did not like being stabbed, but I thoroughly enjoyed pooping all over the place.
It was time.
I have not woken the Woman up with the magic of my singing for a quite a long time now; the Man has been leaving at night to pass gas, and he feeds us when he gets home in the morning--abot half an hour earlier than the Woman used to open the Wonderous Stinky Goodness--so I've been letting her sleep in for a good 2 months.
Now, Buddah Pest has not been properly introduced to the fine art of Getting The Woman Up Properly, so I decided it was indeed time for him to learn all about Early Morning Singing. He's almost 4 months old now, after all, and while his voice is still kind of squeaky, it's coming along, and he's demonstrated that he can meow loud enough for the Woman to hear clear on the other side of the apartment.
So first thing this morning I called for him to join me on top of the dining room table. We started off softly, but pretty soon he got the hang of it, and we sat there and sang our little hearts out. As he got into it, he got louder, and to be sure I could still be heard, I sang louder, too. And what do you know, the Woman came running down the hall to make sure we were all right.
Buddah did a fine job for his first morning of singing, though the Woman did not seem amused.
Once he's got a stronger voice, I am going to introduce him to the 3 a.m. bathroom choral. The Woman is going to be so proud.
DO YOU NEED BIFOCALS? WOULD A BIGGER FONT HELP? IF SO, THERE'S A NEW EDITION OF THE PSYCHOKITTY SPEAKS OUT BOOK FOR YOU!
Plus, it's a little more kid friendly...we think we got all the potty words. It's not a 100% guarantee. We might have missed an 'ass' or 'bitch' or two. Or three.
One does not realize the scope of one's vulgarities until one attemtps to edit them...
My regular snarky book is still for sale; in fact, this new edition won't be available on Amazon.com or B&N.com, or even from moi...it's a special printing, and since it will never cross the Woman's desk, I can't autograph it (but I can probably autograph a bookplate and you can stick it inside if you want...)
Because she's so cheap, the Woman went with Cafepress to print this edition. She should have a copy in about a week, so she doesn't know how good it looks yet. But if you want to take a chance, you can order it right here.
The Woman and I have spent a great deal of the last couple of days working on a more kid-friendly, larger print edition of my book. We got the text set, the naughty words changed, and she had 90% of the cover done.
Then she found out that we set it in the wrong trim size. Unprintable.
Well, you can imagine there was a not so nice word or two uttered. Even some from her.
So...we have to start over. But there will be a less potty-mouthed version, with bigger print, and pretty soon.
Once again, they were late with the nightly Stinky Goodness. Really late. The Younger Human was home on time, but even he didn't bother to open a can for us. My poor tummy was rolling and churning, and poor Buddah...his little brain immediately went to the worst case scenario. Maybe they got stuck somewhere or some mean person won't let them come home. Maybe they forgot where we live. Maybe they're dead.
Yeah. He's a four month old drama queen.
I tried to explain, they have this nasty habit of going somewhere and all they think of is their own sorry selves, and it doesn't matter that we're home DYING. He better get used to it, because at least 27.32 times a year they will be late, and 5.9 times they will be very very late. He's just going to have to learn.
It'll hurt, but sooner or later he'll come to understand. The world doesn't revolve around him. It revolves around me, but once in a while, it tilts on its axis.
Oh, man...the greatness of being Me.
I can go into the bathroom and do something really rank, something that sends the People running from the apartment with their hands clamped firmly over their mouths and noses, and I don't get blamed for it! Buddah does! As soon as any unpleasant odor hits the air, it's "Buddah! GEEZ!" and while they're running for fresh air, they start talking about shoving a cork up his butt.
I can knock stuff over in the kitchen, and they automatically think Buddah did it.
I can unroll the toilet paper. Buddah.
I can knock the trash can over and spread its contents throughout the entire kitchen. Buddah.
I can do anything I want, and BUDDAH will get blamed!
Life is so freaking good!
I knew we were going to score when the Woman opened our can of Stinky Goodness tonight and said to the Man, "Well, it looks like 'Savory Juices' means pretty much the same thing as 'Gravy.'"
That means there's more juicy stuff in the can than there is meat, and the Woman is pretty sure that we just don't get enough real food in our tummies when that happens. Probably because in the past when I've had Stinky Goodness with gravy, I've always bugged her for more, like I was starving. So she doesn't buy gravy food anymore, but this time she bought something with juices...and I knew as soon as she said that, it meant we had a shot at seconds.
Now, Buddah doesn't know this yet, but *I* do. So a few hours after dinner, I meowed a little bit at her, and =bingo= she muses that we must be hungry again. And you know what she did? Do you?
She opened another can! We got dinner twice!
Now Buddah isn't so stupid he doesn't know a good thing when he sees it, so he didn't jump up and down and say, "Hey, we ate already!" He kept his yap shut and waited patiently for her to put the plates down on the floor. And when she did, he dove in and inhaled his share.
Now we're all full and sleepy.
So I'm gonna go take a nap.
And I'm gonna laugh when all that food gets to Buddah, and the Woman is wondering again what crawled up his butt and died.
Buddah learned things today, at least he thinks he did... I'll be surprised if any of it sticks, especially everything about claws and eating Jesus.
The Woman heard back from the kitty people, and they found a home for it (him? her? We're not real clear on that point...) Some older people are going to take it and give it a nice, quiet home. There are no Sticky Little People there, so maybe the kitty will come out from under the bed.
I was looking out the window today, and I still can't find any Sticky People here to watch. I can't hear any out there playing, either. Ya know, I don't want one in my house, but I sure miss watching them.
Heck, I miss being able to see stuff out the window. Ours are so blocked by bushes it's hard to see anything other than the sky and the balconies on the buildings around us. I can see dogs on some of the balconies, and I'm still telling 'em to just jump already, but none of them will. Once in a while I see another kitty, but that makes the Woman sad; she says it's way too hot out for kitties right now and they're having a hard time finding cool enough shade.
Oh yeah, and then she threatens to toss me out there if I don't stop begging for treats.
I'm not begging.
I'm asking politely.
Over and over and over again...
Ha! In your face, Buddah!
Every night the Woman feeds us at the same time, and every night he inhales his food and then tries to stick his face into my plate to "help" me finish. The Woman always stops him, but tonight *I* ate faster, and since she wasn't looking, I went over to his plate and showed him what real help is.
As soon as she noticed she picked me up, but ha! I got a couple of good mouthfulls of the little monster's Stinky Goodness and there wasn't a darned thing he could do to stop me.
He looked up at her and gave this pitiful little meow, and she just told him, "There's plenty of dry food if you're still hungry."
One last thing about the kitty that started my Raving Manical Ranting...
The Woman as been dealing with the kitty's soon to be ex-owner in email, and let them know about kill shelters and non-kill shelters, and some alternatives. There's a Freecycle available in their area, and they are going to use it to find the kitty a good home. They read the blog, and feel really bad about the whole thing, especially knowing that it was them who caused such an uproar (and they admit, for good reason.) But they also say they are not good pet owners and should not keep the kitty. I think they are very young...I can't be sure but I get that feeling.
So. While it's not ideal, the kitty will get a good home. They promised to let the Woman know when they found one, and she knows how to check for sure, and they said it's okay for her to be nosy about it. And maybe a few people who were thinking about a pet will stop and think three or four more times to make sure they're really ready for it.
Ok. What's REALLY important today!
Buddah Pest bit my winky! I kid you not! I was at the bowl eating some dry food because I was starving and the Woman would not let us have Stinky Goodness early, and he snuck under me and bit it! Then I had to endure the humiliation of the Woman flipping me onto my back to make sure I wasn't bleeding.
I am so totally going to get to the top of the climbing tower, and when he tries to get up there, too, I am going to grab him and shove him down the escape hole. When the Woman sees what he did with half the litter from the litter box, she might help me!
What Got Me Going...
I get email. Lots of email. Some of it offers to make things that don't work the way they might have if not for the Offending Surgery quite a bit bigger, some of it offers to give me a mortgage--though I'm not entirely sure why I would want one and what I would do with it if I got one--and some of it is just friendly stuff from people who read my blog. Some of it is from kitty friends.
My email usually amuses me, like the time someone emailed to complain about my "grammer" (not one word was said about my gramper, and if I knew who he was, I'm sure he'd be offended.) But sometimes, like yesterday, my email just ticks me off. What upsets me even more is when I get email like this that's offered in such a friendly manner, as if of course I would agree that giving away a kitten, just because--after less than a year--taking care of it just wasn't what this person expected. It wasn't fun. The kitty never turned into a lap cat, its poop smelled really bad, it didn't want to come out from under the bed to chase a laser pointer...so they were taking it to the county pound.
And I guess I was supposed to be flattered that they would have kept the kitty if it had been like me.
Close your eyes if you don't like bad words, because I am going to say something really strong that will offend some of my friends who are much better mannered than I. Just skip right over it, because this is aimed at that person.
SCREW YOU! Um, yeah, I was going to say something stronger...
I don't care if that kitty lived the next 20 years under the bed, only coming out for food and water and litterbox needs. The kitty was COMFORTABLE there. And maybe if you were a BETTER person, the kitty would have finally relaxed and chased the laser pointer just to make you happy. Do you know what happens to older kitties at county pounds? Do you???
I know because the Woman had to explain it to me. Oh, and those who email me, you should know that the Woman screens my email. I am only four years old, after all.
So she read the email, and then explained about some people she's known through the years. People who are in the miliary or are married to someone in the military. They get someplace and get a pet. Two or three years later they have to move, and because it's not always easy to move with a pet, they get rid of it. Sometimes they give it to a friend, sometimes they dump it at the pound or a shelter. She doesn't like those people.
It's not the same if you have to move to someplace where the pet will wind up in jail for 6 months, it's really not. Sometimes the kitty and doggy jail is far enough away from where the People will live that they can't visit, and the pets are scared and miserable. But the people who would consider that also are the kind of people who take the time to find a family for their pet who will be very good to them. And they take the time to let the pet get to know the new family before they leave. So it's not so hard.
Sometimes it is more important to get the kitty a new family. Sometimes it's for the safety of the kitty, or even because someone in the People Family could get so sick they would die if the kitty stayed around.
But the people who get rid of kitties because they're not convenient or fun...those are the people who should not have pets in the first place. If they do have them, yeah, I think the pets should get a new home, but that new home has to be chosen very carefully. It has to be someone like Timmy's Mommy, who saved him and loves him like crazy. It has to be someone like my People, who got Buddah and wouldn't let me send him back, no matter how annoyed I was with him, because they love him and have enough patience to wait through his Insane Period.
I don't think it's always wrong to find a new home for a kitty or a dog. But people who do it Just Because, without a valid reason...those are the people whose pillows I would like to poop on.
So now you know what set me off. Someone who sneezed too hard once and lost most of their brain.
The Woman once read something like this: Dogs get attached to people, cats get attached to places and things. And you know, that's partly true. I don't really care who's there as long as I get my Stinky Goodness every morning and evening, the dry food is kept full, and I have my toys and other things.
But you know, just because we don't necessarily get attached to people the way dogs do, that doesn't mean we don't miss them when they're gone, realize they're not there, and it especially doesn't mean we don't get scared out of our minds when we're suddenly uprooted and deposited into some strange place, with strange people.
We do better with continuity, and that includes the people with whom we share our lives. Yeah, we can get used to new people, but why should we have to unless you've up and croaked, or have developed a bad allergy?
So don't email me and say you're giving away your 6 month old kitten or 1 year old cat because having it wasn't as fun as you thought it would be, or it's too much work. What the heck? Work? We're cats! We eat, we sleep, and we poop. And ohmygosh, yes sometimes you have to clean up that poop, but if you can clean your own ample backside, you can scoop out a litter box. And really don't add to it that you're moving and can't take a cat with you. Bullshit. My People moved every 2-3 years for 20 years and they always took their cats--me included--with them.
Oh yeah, our existence in your life might make the trip a little more difficult, but that's what you signed on for when you decided to take in a cat.
Cats are not toys, People. We're not there to amuse your kids only to be discarded when they get tired of the novelty. We're not disposable. We have feelings. They may not be human feelings, but they're just as important and just as valid.
Here's the truth: that kitten you're giving away has bonded to you. He can get used to someone else, but right now, at this moment, you are his alpha kitty. He relies on you, and he's used to you. He won't understand it when you hand him to some stranger and he goes off to a new place. Inside, even when he's playing with new Sticky People and looking to someone else to be his alpha, he'll miss you. And if the new People give him away, he starts all over, and there will be holes all over his heart. He won't feel safe anymore.
Kittens are cute. But they're babies. They get into trouble like human Sticky People. They chew things, they get into things, and they're nothing but furry little bundles hopped up on their own little brand of speed. They come when they want, not when they're called. They will bite your offspring when provoked. Hey, guess what? So will your kid. Gonna give him away when he pees on the sofa, too?
So yeah, don't email me your stupidities. I'm not going to write back and say it's okay you're giving little Fluffy away because she's not what you expected. Don't expect my sympathy because you "love" your furball and "have" to give him away because you're moving and you don't think it's fair to move a cat. Fair is keeping your commitment and figuring out how to smoothly move with your cat. He's going to a new place either way. And don't think for one minute I'm going to agree that it's best to get rid of your tomcat because he smells musty and wants to roam. Get him freaking neutered. We don't like it but we can live without the family jewels and we don't need to procreate.
And if you've already given away that little guy that just needed your love, do the world a favor and never get another one. Because you don't deserve it.
It's hard wired into the Peoples' brains, I think. At least once a month they go somewhere and come home LATE for dinner. They were an hour and a half late tonight! I almost had to resort to eating dry food. Oh, and then when I do get fed, the Woman has obviously slipped something nasty into my food--she has been for WEEKS now--and it tasted awful. She blames the bald guy from the stabby place, but honestly, I think she enjoys it. She gives Buddah this huge portion and I get a tiny little bit, and I can't have more unless I manage to gag down all the crappy tasting stuff.
Oh, and you know what the little monster gave me? FLEAS! We freaking have FLEAS! This is so totally his fault. It's certainly not mine!
Look at him.
The People think this is cute and all, but do you know what would happen if I unrolled half a roll of paper towels and then made a nest out of them in the bathroom sink? Do you?
I'd get yelled at, that's what. I'd hear all about how paper doesn't grow on trees and how I was gtting my funk all over the place where they brush their teeth, but the little monster does it and it's cute.
No, it's not.
And I wish someone had turned the water on.
Trust me, if I could have, I would have!
Why did I kick so much litter out of the box? Because I can.
Why did I shove Buddah through the hole at the top of the climbing tower? Because I can.
Why did I Knock the trash in the bedroom over, and kick it all over the place? Because I can.
Why did I sit here and meow for no apparent reason for 10 minutes? Because I can.
Anymore questions, Woman?
There was no food in any of the dishes last night, so what did the Woman expect me to do? Wait? I don't think so. I jumped up on the bed and began reminding her, politely of course, that I need to eat every once in a while. It doesn't matter if it's the middle of the night, if the dish is empty then someone with opposable thumbs needs to fill it.
And it's not my problem if Buddah Pest was already there half the night keeping her awake. Heck, he needs to eat, too. And more than I do. His little legs are hollow, so he always needs plenty of food available.
It took a while, but she finally got up and filled one of the dishes in the bathroom. She mumbled something about it being 4-fricking-45 in the morning, but I figure if she'd filled the dish all the way before she went to bed, she wouldn't have that problem.
And I was very polite; afer I was done eating, I let her sleep for a little bit and then went in and got back on the bed, and thanked her profusely.
She did not appreciate my consideration. So then I made her scratch me. My back was itchy, and that's her job.
People, your jobs don't go away just because you're sleepy.
I'm gonna start calling him Short Bus.
This evening he was going nutsoid in the bedroom, saw himself in the mirror, and attacked. Not just a little running up and swatting at his image, but a full on run with intent to tackle.
His little head was spinning for half an hour after that.
I would gloat, but we all know I'm too mature for that.
Okay, the little monster made me laugh.
The Woman has this closet and it has no door handle. It's just a giant mirror that you pull on to open it. It makes a loud "thoiiiinnnnng" sound when you pull on it, so I like to open it at around 2 in the morning. I learned to put my paw at the crack and pull, and by now the Woman is used to it so she doesn't freak out when I open it while she's alseep.
Well...Buddah wanted in there. But he's not strong enough yet to pull on it. He stood there and stared at it, cocking his head from side to side and he sized it, up, and then he ran at it full speed, slamming his body into it.
First there was a loud =BOOM= and then the nice "thoiiiiiing " sound as it popped open.
The Woman sat up straight and seethed "What the HELL???!!!" through her teeth. Even in the dark I could see her eyes were wide and the noise had scared her. She scrambled out of bed and went down the hall to find the noise.
Buddah wandered into the closet, where he played happily for a good hour or so. She never did really figure out what the noise was, not until morning when she saw the dor open.
He could have asked me to open it, but this was much better.
I knew it!
Proof positive that PEOPLE EAT THEIR YOUNG!!!!
Just goes to show that you have to be careful with your People 'cause you never know what they're gonna do...
When a kitty is in the little box, and the litter box is wedged between the toilet and the wall it is NOT nice for another kitty to hide behind the toilet and then pop out at the most inopportune moment.
So, we got our new tunnel today. It looks like it's big enough for me to go in. It looks like it might be a lot of fun. But until that little monster quits hogging it, I'll never know.
Sure, I could stomp him into next week and take it from him, but someone has to be the bigger man here.
He's a selfish little thing, that's for sure. He hogs all the toys, has claimed the new climbing tower as his very own property, and now the new tunnel--which the Woman ordered because *I* couldn't play in the smaller tunnel. But does he care about that? Nooooooo...all he sees is NEW TOY! and I have to wait until he's tired of it.
The other night I tried to jump onto the new tower and Buddah went all ape shit trying to knock me off and bite me...the Woman picked him up and put him in another room, so I climbed up to his favorite perch at the top and took a nap. Serves him right.
Oh man now I know how the People feel after they drink those red drinks that make them all stupid and goofy and wobbly because I had to go to the stabby place today I'm not sure why but when I tried to bite the bald guy it was like Ohhhh lets get the kitty drunk so that we can STAB him in the neck and suck all his blood out and then Ha! send him home so he can sit in a room and watch it spin around and dangit this might be fun if I'd had a red drink all by myself and of my own accord which no one seems to care about since they took me to the stabby place even though I feel just FINE.
Do kitties get hangovers?
There's a rule here. The rule is if the kitty is a good kitty during the Peoples' dinner, and they are having something that does not make flames shoot out the kitty's ass, then the kitty gets a little bite.
Tonight the People had chicken, and I was a very good kitty. So was Buddah, but only because he was asleep in the other room.
Well, the Woman put down a bite on my plate, and a bite on Buddah's, because she figured he would hear me meowing and come running.
The way I see it, if you're not there when I'm done eating my bite, yours is up for grabs. Ya snooze, ya lose.
He never even knew what he missed out on.
Okay, even I have to admit that THIS is a pretty cool picture.
I would never sit that still for a photo...
If I have just sneezed six times in a row, don't show off your questionable intelligence by asking, "Something making you sneeze?" because the answer is a big fat DUH!
Because I swear, the next time I see you eating a freakishly huge piece of chocolate cake, I'm going to sit there and ask "Something making you fat?"
You know who you are, you with the boobs and ick in your ears...
Okay, look at him. You can see how freaking small he is.
If I don't let him eat off my plate, he won't grow big enough, and if he doesn't grow big enough, when I sit on his head, I might pop it open.
And then I would get in trouble, let me tell you...
And yeah, there's proof that I let him eat with me.
He got a new climbing tower today and he's just about gone apeshit over it, so he may be leaving me alone for a while. It's a nice tower and covered with carpet for him to sink his claws into, but it's no Supreme Commander Kitty Tower.
I might get up on it once or twice, just to see what he finds so wonderful about it.
Since it's not within jumping range of a Person's head or stomach, I'm not sure I'll get any big thrill out of it.
And hey! Stumpy found a new tunnel for online and the Woman ordered it for us last night. So by next week, maybe I can stalk buddah from inside it, and scare the crap out of him!
Hey. Lady. I'm snarky, not mean. Don't be so surprised if I let the little monster nibble a bite or two off my plate. He sucks his food down so fast I'm surprised we're not all caught up in the vortex created by it, and he still wants more...and look at him. His ribs are still sticking out and last time I tackled him I nearly cut myself on those sharp vertebrae. The little pest needs more food. He doesn't look over his shoulder during breakfast and dinner so much anymore, he's not as jumpy about it, and I'm pretty sure he understands that there will always be something to eat available, and no one is going to knock him away from his wet food and take it, but he's skittish. You would be, too, if you'd lived with a matter of scarf it down or don't eat.
Besides, he took my collar off for me twice yesterday, so I owed him a little.
And don't look at me sideways. So yeah, after he finished his dinner he went into the living room, and then I went and got him and brought him back to my plate, but that doesn't mean anything. I think I got a little more than he did tonight, so there was enough to share. He only took a couple of bites.
No, that doesn't mean I like him. It means I'm going to put up with him because I have to, and because he's a baby and you're not feeding him enough, I have to.
I hope you're happy.
My tummy is now growling and I'll have to lower myself to eating that dry crap you leave out. And that's if I can get Buddah away from the bowl for 2 minutes.
Please feed him more tomorrow. If you don't, I'll have to poop on your pillow, or maybe even bite things on you in your sleep.
Today's Public Service Announcement:
About a month or so ago, the People came home with one of these. I wasn't too sure what it was for, but they put it in the bathroom near my litter box.
The Woman says it's a "Diaper Genie" for kitty waste.
Whatever. I don't wear diapers and if I had a genie I'd be asking for an endless supply of Stinky Goodness and my very own opposable thumbs, but she seemed impressed.
After they brought Buddah home, they bought another one and put it in the other bathroom with the other litter box.
Now...now I am totally impressed. If you could smell what comes out of Buddah, and see the sheer amounts, you’d want some way to deal with it, too. Now when he drops these insipid land mines, one of the People scoops it up, and instead of putting it in the trash, they put it in this thing, turn the lever on the side, and bingo. No more stink.
If you offend yourself after trips to the box, or have a feline sibling that obviously had something crawl up their butt and die, you might want to talk your People into getting one. I'm thinking it was worth every cent they spent.
Unless it was my money.