How I felt today when the Woman would let me sit in her lap, and when she wouldn't give me crunchies on demand, and when she looked at me when I didn't want to be looked at:



How I'm gonna greet the Woman at 6 a.m. tomorrow:


On the plus side, today wasn't hot, so this afternoon the Woman opened the front door and the living room window, so I got to sit there and get tons of fresh air.

That should be nice and invigorating for an enthusiastic 2 a.m. game of Thundering Herd of Elephants.

Exercise.

She should thank me.

It's almost one in the freaking morning.

I was here in the office, on top of my tower, sleeping, minding my own freaking business.

The Woman, however, went to bed and her brain was not sleepy yet, and it started imagining things...usually she imagines book things so it's all right, but tonight the first thing her brain went to was me having to be rushed to the stabby guy because I was all kinds of not feeling good, and then her brain went to the dark side of the stabby place, where kitties don't come home, so she got out of bed and went looking for me.

So she realized I was in here, and instead of just, you know, checking to make sure I'm breathing all right, she flips the freaking light on and when I give her the Toothy Death Glare she says, "Oh hi. I'm sorry I woke you but I wanted to be sure you were okay."

Really?

Really?

What am I getting for all this? NOTHING. You'd think she'd at least give me a crunchy treat, but no. And you think now that she knows I'm fine and it's just her freaky-assed brain at work that she would turn the light off and let me go back to sleep, but no.

Apparently we are going to work now.

In the middle of the night.

I am a noid.

The only reason I would want a 3rd cat in the house:


I would totally troll the other two, just like this.

I guess today is Black Cat Appreciation Day... I'm not sure why black cats get their own day. There doesn't seem to be a Tuxedo Cat Appreciation Day, which I totally deserve. Or even a Tabby Appreciation Day, and there are some tabbies out there who ought to get some appreciation. But...black cats get a day, and somehow, I'm supposed to appreciate Buddah because of it?

Meh.

I might have appreciated him if he hadn't arrived bearing cooties that nearly killed me.

Or if he didn't used to try to ride me like a pony.

And I might even still, if he didn't go batchit crazy every now and then and jump on me and sink his teeth into my neck.

This picture is from years ago, like six years, I think. That floor is from the second place we lived after we got him, so it's gotta be that old. See how much smaller he is than me? He was easier to appreciate then because he was so much smaller and had a healthy amount of fear in him. I'm not sure why we're eating side by side, though...he used to be such a slow eater that the people started feeding him up on the counter while I ate on the floor, just to give him some time to finish. Because if I got done and he still had food and was right there next to me?

Oh yeah, that food was mine.

Now he inhales his food and he's still on the counter, but now it's to give me time to finish. I have to give him some credit; even if he jumps down and wants what's on my plate, he hangs back a little and waits to see if I'm going to leave any. It's pretty rare that he'll actually try to eat off my plate while I'm still munching, though it has happened a few times.

To my credit, I've never whacked him over the head for it. He usually only gets a bite or two, so it's not worth the effort.

But he rarely steals, so I guess I can appreciate that.

Man, I wish we still had stairs...



...I would totally do this to Buddah.

We had the hots today. At least, that's what the Woman said when she decided she didn't want to go to the store and buy herself some watermelon and get me some crunchy treats. We sat here in the living room with the curtain closed--which meant I couldn't look outside--and the lights off, except for the TV which she wasn't even really watching.

She does that a lot, turns it on and then doesn't pay attention to it. Don't ask me why. She doesn't even have it on anything good. No Animal Planet. No Stupid People Doing Stupid Things. It's usually really boring.

Still...it didn't feel hot to me, but then the Woman is 16 kinds of delicate so she makes the cold air blowing thing come on a lot during the day.

Sometimes having a fragile person is a good thing.

It's supposed to be hot again tomorrow, which won't bother me at all, other than the whole not getting to look out the window thing. And I know the Woman is going to say she doesn't want to go anywhere, which means I won't get a fresh bag of crunchy treats.

I have some treats....it's just that she said she would buy more. Oh and she did go out after it cooled down to 93 and bought herself some watermelon, but she didn't get my treats.

I think she should be required to go out tomorrow and get them, no matter how hot.

'Cause she did say she would get me some.

Granted, she didn't say when, but she said she'd get them. I want them now.

Bah...my life is so hard.

Ha.


Kitty wins.

OK, he came home...

When she first got sick but she's better now

Ok, so the Woman has been sickly of late, but in the last week or so she's gotten a whole lot better, and is back to grumbling about not being able to fall asleep at night because she had caffeine too late in the day or she got caught up in surfing online too late. This had to be a relief to the Man, because with her just lounging around doing a lot of nothing, he had to do things for her, and finally she was doing everything for herself.

But then a few days ago she felt so good she decided to rearrange bedroom things, and after she had gotten everything out of this ugly and otherwise useless TV stand (that never had a TV on it, go figure) she bent over to pick it up, and all the sudden things were ouchy.

She hadn't even lifted it yet. She just...broke.

Now, nothing was broken-broken, or torn, or anything like that, just strained and ouchy. But it meant that she couldn't finish rearranging things herself.

Yep. The Man had to do it.

He didn't grumble about it or anything, he just did it. She sat in the living room, he finished the job for her. And then he took her out to dinner, because she was obviously not going to get off her asterisk and cook anything.

Well.

That must have been the final straw, because Saturday he left the house and he hasn't been back since. I'm not sure she knew what his intent was, because she actually kissed him and said “Have fun!” as he was headed out. Even the suitcase he left with didn't clue her in.

So here's it's Monday and he hasn't come back, and I don't think she realizes that. She's doing all the things she normally does, like sit there in her chair and play online, watch TV, eat crap, and tell me over and over that it's not time to eat yet when it's clear that I am hungry.

At first, I just thought he was heading out to pass gas, and she even said something about him learning new gas passing things, but he always comes back the next morning. Always. And he gives us crunchies when he comes home, and then opens a can of stinky goodness before he goes to bed.

Yesterday and today...we had to rely on the Woman to get up and feed us. And let me tell you, she does NOT get up in time for breakfast.

I'm not sure what point we make her realize the Man hasn't come home and she might be the reason why. I mean, sure, it's not her fault for getting sick, but a guy can only take so much.

We might all be doomed. I'm pretty sure he's the one who bought all my food. I kinda need him.

I think I'm gonna go treat something of hers to a toothy death.