Poppy D. Cat: June 2006

Why Do They Call it the 'Dog Days of Summer'?

Meeeyaawwnnooww! I've often wondered where the saying 'Dog Days of Summer' came from and what it means exactly. Speaking for myself (and surely 99.9% of the entire cat population), the last thing I'd choose to be on a sweltering summer day is a stupid, smelly, woolly dog. But then again, is there any season when it is acceptable to be a dog?

Regarding the prospect of being a dog in the summertime: aside from the matter of the shedding of fur that I hear dog owners fussing about, there is the issue of aroma. Every dog I've ever encountered travels about with an incredibly offensive odor that only gets stronger as the summer progresses. No self-respecting creature would choose to pant and drool and dig in their own fur for fleas. ((Ugh. I'm not sure I can continue to speak on this subject for fear my lunch will resurface...))

I am not making this stuff up about dogs: remember, I am forced to share my home, my manperson AND my ladyperson with a ... being ... that is the absolute definition of anything D-O-G. Throughout the day, I catch glimpses of her as I pass the window from my air-conditioned comfort and there she is in the backyard rolling in the hot grass or stretched out in her smelly little wannabe cabana (aka doghouse). I just don't get it. Dog Days of Summer? No thank you, I'll stick with being a cat everyday. That's a no-brainer. Kind of like that stupid brown dog in my backyard.

Oh the Humanity!!

MeeeethisisSOwrongoooww! You will not, you absolutely will NOT, believe what my ladyperson has done. Do you see that hideous red THING around my neck?? She calls it a "necklace" and strapped it on me so quick I didn't even realize what was going on. Who is this being that has mysteriously replaced my otherwise (ok, occasionally) sensible ladyperson??

First of all, it's very difficult to remain in stealth mode if I JINGLE with every movement. Then there's the itch factor, which I have desperately exaggerated in her presence with hopes she'll take pity on me and remove this despicable piece of adornment. But perhaps the most humiliating issue of all is that I don't think these are real diamonds on this ghastly thing. Now, that is totally crossing the line.

Perhaps I'll bribe the stupid brown dog with it ... yeah! I bet she'd love this hunk o'junk! Although I doubt it would fit around her gargantuan neck. And I certainly don't see myself getting close enough to her to help her put it on. Not to worry, though: this absurd and totally unnecessary bit of embellishment WILL be gone the next time you see me. That's for sure!

Happy Father's Day (I Guess...) to All Manpersons

Meee-ugh!-oowww. I know, I know ... my manperson DOES put up with alot from me. But c'mon, I put up with so much more from him than I should have to. For example:

--> He's the one that giggles as he splashes ice cold water in my face simply because I attempted to take a sip from his cup (a cup that's way too big for one person anyway)...

--> He's the one who whispers "Get that cat!!" to the stupid brown dog just so she'll lumber after me and bark as IF she could catch me and do some real harm...

--> He's the one who will 'pretend' to pet me but actually be petting pretty dang hard and grinning while the smelly brown dog eggs him on...

--> Never once has he even thought about replenishing my chow-chow bowl...

But I guess he's okay because sometimes (when my ladyperson isn't looking) he actually is really nice to me: petting me in just the right ways and making sure I know he kinda likes having me around and that he appreciates the way I take care of our ladyperson.

So, okay, I do hope he's having a good day. But, trust me, if he makes me mad I will get even. And I am so good at getting even ...

Pssssttt!!

Wooof!! I gotta be qwik here..... my name is Miss Pearl but you only no me as "the stupid brown dog". Poppy is sleepin and our ladyperson an manperson are out for the evenin. I got to set y'all straight: that cat Poppy been tellin you folks all kinds of stuff bout me an I just dont think he's givin me or my fellow dogs a fair shake. He dont no that I kin read an he sure dont no that I been monitorin his blog. I jes wanted all of you to no that theres another side to things he says but I'll hafta fill you in later. For now, I better get away from this here computer or Poppy might wake up an catch me and I just dont wanna think bout what could happen then. For such a little guy, he kinda scares me.... I'll chekk back later!

I Lost a Buddy Today

Mew. A really good guy had to leave us today. His name was Max and he was the best kind of buddy you could ever have. Max was the kind of cat that everybody always wanted at their party: he would make sure that everyone in the room was having a good time, even if it meant entertaining them himself. And nobody, I mean nobody, could get jiggy with the Catnip the way Max could. We're all going to miss him but I can assure you: he's up there right now in Heaven telling jokes and dancing a jig with a crowd of lovely, giggling kitty angels around him.

So long, Good Buddy ... save a spot for me on that cloud you're hanging out at now, and tell the pretty little kitty angels to save some sugar for me.

Till I see you again, Max: Peace, my brother.

---> 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?!