Poppy D. Cat: It Ain't Easy Being Me

It Ain't Easy Being Me

Meeedoubleoowww! It seems that everywhere I go I have Poppyrazzi following me. I run from them. I hide amongst the monkey grass. I shield my face in an attempt to discourage them but still they attempt to follow my every step. Are these photos being sold to others without my knowledge? And, if so, WHERE IS MY CUT o' the ca$h??

My cattorney is looking into this and I assure all of you Poppyrazzi types: prepare to share the wealth because I can not (WILL not!) have snapshots of me dancing about cyberspace without my permission. It simply will not happen! I expect complete creative control of anything pertaining to myself.

But then again, perhaps the right agent could turn this into a positive situation for everyone concerned. Hmmm ... I've gotta go. I have some phone calls to make. Now what's that area code for Hollywood, California?

---> 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?!