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."

So... Ha!

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 do.

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!

Yeah.

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.
It's pathetic.
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.

Really now.

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!
Look!
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.

This is the picture that wouldn't come up...

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...