Poppy D. Cat: August 2006

I Am The Champion!

Meeeyeeehawooww!! Ladies and Gents: you are looking at the world's newest Bocci Ball Champion. I did it! And this is not an easy sport for someone who moves as close to the ground as I do. But, once again, my athletic prowess and my ability to outsmart ANY opponent has brought me success. All of my bro's were over for a party to celebrate the fact that football is FINALLY on TV again and we ended up in the backyard for some music, Bocci Ball and a wee bit o' the finest scotch I ever wet my whiskers with. I don't know if it was my elation about the start of football season, the richness of the scotch, or the relaxing sunshine but my Bocci Ball techniques were spot on. But then, I was greatly inspired by our audience. Have you ever seen a dainty silver Tabby in a cheerleader outfit? How about a frisky Siamese with pom poms? I rest my case.

Meet My Cousin: Potato Salad

Meee-aloha-ooww! I’ve finally met my cousin, Potato Salad. Yes, that’s really his name. And as you can see, he even has his name monogrammed on his bed. (I’d like to know why my Manperson and Ladyperson haven’t done that for me but we’ll save that argument for another day.)

He resides on the exotic island of Oahu and while he has lived there his entire life, he actually considers himself a good ol’ Southern boy. Hence, he’s a firecracker rolled up into a wild-eyed, snaggle-toothed mass of black fur just itching to explode. Nobody really knows how old cousin 'Tater is, including him. Well, I'm sure he knew once but that was waaaay back before he took a liking to the Gin & Tonic with the twist o’ lime.

We are definitely having some grand times right now during his visit and he’s invited me to vacation with him on his island ('the Rock', as he calls it). I certainly do intend to visit him in his tropical paradise: I’ll be one of those cats you see in the travel brochures reclining on a chaise on the sunny sands of Waikiki with a sweet little kitty hula-ing her way toward me as she delivers my tasty beverage in a coconut shell….. Aaaahhhhh …. I can't wait!!

Does Anyone Have the Number for Catnipaholics Anonymous?

Meeeohmyachingheadooww!! OK ... don't ask any questions. Just somebody give me the number to Catnipaholics Anonymous, please. I think I need help. And isn't that what they say is the first step: admitting there's a problem? Well, the problem is that my ladyperson keeps giving me this catnip stuff! She sprinkles it on my scratching pad ... she gives me a little pouch full of it ... she thinks it's funny. I NEED SOMEBODY TO STOP HER FROM FEEDING ME THIS STUFF!!! Perhaps I really need CatnipSuppliersaholics Anonymous. Yes, that's it. She definitely has a problem and must be stopped!

I'm on My Way to Vote ... How About You?

Meeecountrytisoftheeoowww!! Elections are being held around the country this month and I certainly hope you are planning to cast your votes. I won’t tell you who I think you should vote for because that’s what makes our country so grand: you can vote for whomever you very well please. I will tell you, however, that I haven’t seen a single cat on any ballot but it's just a matter of time ... sigh. I do know which candidates are friends of cats so they certainly have my support. I’m afraid there are also a few dog friends on the ballots, as well, but because I am opposed to any sort of dirty politicking I’ll keep those names to myself.

Most importantly, we must each and every one of us make the effort to vote. Even if it means a tiresome wait in the hot sun remember that, by comparison, that is a tiny price to pay compared to the sacrifices of our soldiers throughout history who fought and died so that you & I could have this freedom. Voting is not really about the candidates at all: it’s about showing respect and gratitude to those who preserve this right for us by exercising your right to vote at every opportunity. Thank you.

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---> 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?!