Poppy D. Cat: April 2006

Where's the Tuna??!!

Meeeewhatthe?ooww!! Could it be that I will never understand people? My ladyperson assumed she was doing me a favor and, as she prepared herself a tunafish salad sandwich, she drained the tuna juice from the can into a bowl and gave it to me. Yes, I said just the juice. What was she thinking? Do I look like I should be on a liquid diet?? Not to worry though. As soon as she turned her back, I slapped her tuna sandwich off its plate, the stupid brown dog jumped for it and, consequently, received a major scolding. I simply grinned and pretended not to notice. Well, until my ladyperson gave me the tuna sandwich as reward, that is. Maybe I have figured the people out....

That's It!! I Need My Own Computer!!!!

Meeedangittooww!!! It should not be this difficult for me to find computer time but here's the problem: my manperson has a new, ridiculous video game and you know how those human types are: now I seem to NEVER have access to the PC! It is utterly absurd. If any of you are wondering why I don't take advantage whenever he's at his dreary place of employment earning $$$ to buy me chowchow, might I remind you that I stay quite busy during the day what with napping, bathing, lunching with friends and the like? And to think I was just about to hire a pretty little Personal Catsistant to do my typing for me. I think my manperson's little "game" is about to be over and, guess what?? He loses!!! I would suggest that the stupid brown dog is behind this but she can't even spell PC.

PS: I will continue to accept applications for the Personal Catsistant position. Minimum qualifications are: Silky fur ... Large green eyes ... Dainty purr. That's about it. Oh yeah, I guess some typing ability would be helpful. Any interested kitties out there??

Can Anybody Teach An Old Dog ANYTHING??

Meeehhaaaacckkooww!!!! Here's a photo of me imitating the stupid brown dog who insists on sneaking into MY room and stealing my chowchow. Well, I finally showed her: I tucked a chicken bone in my bowl underneath the kibble. She musta gagged for 20 minutes!! Bet she'll think twice before she tries to steal my food again. No wait: she's yet to think the first time and she's nearly 12 years old. Maybe I'll use a fish hook next time. Here doggie, doggie...

I Take Back Anything Bad I Ever Said About My Ladyperson and Manperson!

(Well, my ladyperson anyway.) Meeeeyowzawoooww! The people came home from the store with the typical, non-useful things they always shop for but this time they also bought something very special just for me. It's this fragrant, greenish-brown stuff and I believe the package said 'C-A-T-N-I-P' on it. wOw!!! This stuff is grrrreaaattt!! They put the package on the floor and I was drawn to it like nothing ever before. I sniffed the package, I nibbled on it, I even rolled my whole body all over it! I was totally oblivious to the stupid brown dog as she stared at me in disbelief. I have NEVER experienced such a treat! And no headache afterward! I'm telling you: if they want to keep me on their good side, they'd best keep the pantry chockfull of this stuff. I'm calling my broker immediately and we are loading up on stock in this stuff. wOw! <--- I said that already, didn't I? Could it be that I'm giddy?

If There are Olives in the Glass, It's Not Ice Water

Meeeehiccuppoowww! I don't know if my manperson did this on purpose or what, but the 'ice water' I thought I was stealing from his glass turned out to be some vulgar-tasting beverage he calls vodka. Next time I'll check the glass for green olives before I indulge myself. Ooooohhh my aching head... intentional or not, he will certainly pay for this!

Diet Soda is Evil & The Dog is Gonna Pay

Meeeeickooowww!!!! My manperson and I have this little game that I (er.... WE) like to play. He always has this gigantic cup of beverage at his side while watching television or engaging in some other typically non-productive human activity. So anyway, our game involves me stealing sips from his cup when he's not looking. And I'm very, very good at it. He can have the soda level down to less than 1/2 full and I can slip my head down in there and slurp up all the tasty beverage I desire without getting so much as a hint of moisture on my silky whiskers.

But now he's got this thing for diet soda and it absolutely must stop. Just because he thinks HE needs a diet beverage, MY already svelte physique does not need any tweaking at all, thank you very much. Plus sometimes when I'm playing the game, the stupid brown dog wakes up from her snoring slumber just long enough to nudge his arm and show him what I'm doing. Then my manperson will dip his fingers in the cup and try to spray my face with the soda! And diet soda at that! And the stupid brown dog justs sits there next to him with a disgusting, tartar-encrusted grin.

Not to worry, though: I have contacted my cattorney and let's just say the wheels are in motion. It's bad enough that I must be subjected to drinking the diet soda but for the stupid brown dog to encourage my manperson to spray the soda on my face? I think she is about to learn the hard way to stay out o' my business. GAME ON, DOGGIE.

---> I had an emergency today and there was nobody here to tend to me! A rescue was in order but neither my ladyperson or manperson showed up to help! The smelly brown dog was outside in her doghouse but she'd have been of no use anyway. Here's what happened: Upon arising from my mid-morning nap (I always snooze a bit after watching "Price is Right"), I was leisurely snacking on some kibble when I saw something I've NEVER seen before: the bottom of my chowchow bowl!! The horror!! I never even knew there WAS a bottom to my bowl! I was in such distress that by the time my ladyperson came home that evening, she felt the need to perform CPR on me. I panted and weakly rolled my eyes toward my chowchow bowl and she got the message. That bowl is FULL now and I suspect she'll keep it that way for a long, long time. Besides, I'm pretty sure nether one of us enjoyed the CPR very much. Eeeewwww!!

---> Once again, summer is fast approaching and ONCE AGAIN I must retrain my ladyperson and manperson on the art of climate control. When they leave our abode each morning for their meager jobs, they tend to either 1) have the air conditioner at a totally inappropriate level of warmth, or 2) leave windows opened just enough that the horrid chirping of the neighborhood birds interferes with the depth of my mid-morning nap. It is clearly evident that they have not retained any of the knowledge I tried to impart on them this time last year. Oh, why do I tolerate them at all? Why, I ask you?

---> Winter is winding down and the warmer weather is fast approaching. In fact, most afternoons now my house gets a wee bit toasty. But I'm okay with that since I'm usually napping in a windowsill anyway. However: I must draw the line about my waterbowl: it should NEVER reach a lukewarm temperature. My ladyeperson knows that I require ice in my water to help maintain my perky personality. This is just one more thing I have to constantly remind her of. I'm thinking that if she were truly conscientious, she'd use her lunch hour to stop by the house and refresh my water bowl with the cool liquid I crave. But, alas, she is still greatly lacking in what I like to call 'home-training'.

---> On occasion when my ladyperson is walking across the room or down the hall, I dart in front of her and entwine myself between her feet as is customary for cats to do. Well, she does NOT understand this bit of cat logic and has on more than one occasion dared to ALMOST step on me!! She is always quick to apologize but that is entirely inconsequential. She either needs to accept this bit of cat etiquette (aka: cats always have the right of way) or she needs to stay outside because I will NOT be getting stepped on. The very idea....

---> OK, picture this: I'm minding my own business, snoozing peacefully on my ladyperson's bed pillow (likely dreaming of grilled shrimp, buttered scallops or some other such delicacy) and my ladyperson spots me and assumes it's perfectly sane to cuddle me RIGHT THEN! Of course it wakes me from my slumber! Ugh! I give her the obligatory purr or two, knead her bedspread (she calls that 'making biscuits'... whatever) and she eventually moseys on about her business. Then I have to reacquaint myself with my dream and hope nobody ate my shrimp while I was gone.

---> I have overheard my ladyperson on more than one occasion tell other humans the story of how it came to be that I should share a home with her and the manperson. You see, I was resting at the local animal shelter (I was simply between gigs, ok?) when she and the manperson happened to be visiting. Well, to hear HER tell it, I am "one lucky kitty" because, as she says, SHE CHOSE ME. Excuse me?? First of all, I do the choosing around here and - more importantly - THEY are the lucky ones. I can't believe she continues to tell this story as if they've done me a favor by inviting me into their home. I chose them and, I reiterate: THEY ARE THE LUCKY ONES. Period.

---> Summer is officially here. And that means air conditioning (perhaps the greatest invention of the human race, although I still say a cat gave them the idea.) Anyway, my ladyperson has this obscene habit of turning the air conditioner thermostat UP when she leaves the house each morning. By 'UP', I mean she adjusts the temperature so that the house gets significantly warmer as the day progresses. Now she says it's all in the name of economy, but I have a better word and that word is "C-H-E-A-P". She knows I'm here all day ... how does she expect me to remain comfortable at 78 degrees? Hello?!? But that's ok: once I figured out what was happening, I simply started changing the thermostat to what I want as soon as she leaves. Of course, I change it back before she returns home in the evening. Aaaahhhh... sometimes it gets so nippy in here, I have to snuggle mid-day in her bedcovers! Too bad for the stupid brown dog that she stays outside in the backyard all day. But, oh well, we can't all be cats, now can we?!