Willow: The fake tree is not for you to eat. Nor is the whisk broom. Please, avoid eating these things in the future, it’ll make you sick. Also, just drink your water. Don’t daintly dip your paw into it, and then lick it clean. You get cat litter in your water when you do that, and it’s disgusting. Just drink it like a normal cat, please.
Also, I know you know how to use the litterbox. You’re a cat in a big box of sand. I see you scratching all the time. So why can’t you actually bury your shit? I just don’t get it. I really, really don’t.
And Willow, baby, I’m not going to leave you. I promise, shut doors is not the end of the world. You don’t need to sit outside the bathroom door and howl and growl until I let you in. Oh wait…it’s not me you want, it’s the whisk broom…
Tara: I don’t like it when you sleep on me at night. You are a big, heavy cat, and your claws need to be clipped. And I know I laugh when you walk up to my husband and bite his head and hair, because hey, it’s funny. But he’s not quite so amused, and I fear one day he’s going to throw you out the window. Also, he doesn’t appreciate it when you crawl all over him, regardless of what he may be doing at the time. He doesn’t need you in his lap during dinner, and he really doesn’t need it when he’s in the bathroom.
And both of you, when we’re in bed and I’m being vocal, I don’t need you to rescue me from Jaime. Really, I like what he’s doing, these aren’t cries of pain. Please don’t pounce on his head, or otherwise bite, claw, or maim him. And I don’ tneed accompaniment. You don’t need to sit by my head and howl along. I’m making enough noise for all of us, so just go take a nap ontop of my clean clothes or something.
Porkchop - A good rule of thumb follows: If the object is opaque, it normally means you can’t pass through it at a full run. Your rock-hard kitty head will bounce off of walls, refrigerators, bedposts, doors, and dressers. No, it won’t work the second time, either. Or the third, you little maniac.
One more thing to Porkchop: You sit in the bathroom sink for hours at a time. You sleep there sometimes. That’s right, the one with the leaky faucet. The entire bottom half of your body gets soaked. You don’t seem to mind. Why on earth, then, do you act like I’m dragging you over hot coals when I give you a bath, you unhygienic little beast?
While we’re at it, I do not appreciate having a cold, soaking kitty crawl under my covers at 3AM. This will likely get you skinned one day. You are a cute little kitten, but I’ve a feeling that your little tabby pelt would make an excellent pair of mittens.
How do you clip their bums? I tried once on a cat we house-sat because he kept getting dingleberries, but let’s say he wasn’t so easy to hold while I was messing with his bum. (Er, ignore the way that sounds…)
Now that we’ve got a couple of our own, I’ve been tempted occasionally to trim butt fluff once or twice, but haven’t because (1) they don’t get dingleberries often enough, and (2) I don’t think it would be easy to do without two or three helpers.
I’m thinkin’ you could use one of those little battery-powered clothes shavers they use for taking the little pills of wool off sweaters. But if you try this, please let me know first cuz I wanna watch.
Dog owners already KNOW this, but banks do NOT exist so that we humans can do that annoying paper-shuffling thing. They are there to provide dog biscuits to our canine travelers.
To Buttercup:You are a grown up kitty and there is really NO need for you to stick your bum in my face after you finish using the litterbox.Really. Also…I would much appreciate it if you would stop wolfing down your older sister’s food.She would like to eat some time too.Another thing…I really do not like it when you reach up to chase the creeters on the TV screen.You will never catch them.
To Rumpleteazer:Stop harrassing Buttercup.I do not like to get up in the middle of whatever I am doing to go break up a fight between the two of you.Also…CG and I would really appreciate it if you didn’t decide to dive-bomb us in the middle of the night by jumping off the top of the headboard onto the bed.You have all your claws and they can hurt.I know you think you are sneaky but you aren’t that sneaky.
To BOTH cats:Stop opening cabinet doors and making a mess by playing with my pots and pans.I really don’t like to go get a pan and find it covered in orange and cream cat hair.Really.You think you are so smart because you can open doors.
Thanks for being such a well mannered kitty. Thanks for following me about and playing and snuggling wih me, and thanks for not meowing or scratching or playing with things that are best left alone. You’re a really sweet little guy, and I adore you.
<<Slight hijack>>
To my wife’s cats:
I don’t like you. You know that. But I don’t kick you. Or throw you.
The deal is: Just stay away from me. If I made a big enough deal, you would be out of here. Fast.
Luckily if I scratch his back where the tail connects his tail shoots straight up in the air like a flagpole. That allows for a quick snip. The secret is to be prepared to take a snip here and there over a big pat or brush session rather than to hone straight in on the bum area and stay there. That just makes him want to sit down. I use scissors.
I want this cats personality in a self cleaning body. He does love water but I do not believe joining me in the bathtub makes up for giving me a life in which I have to be thinking about dags/dingleberries on a regular basis.
Actually let me speak to him again…
When you have managed to get yourself wet from the bath or shower or sink or dripping tap or whatever, is it really necessary to immediately go to the litter tray? You come out looking like a coconut covered treat and you are not supposed to eat that stuff so I can’t leave you like that so you need your own bath and the cycle appears endless.
Oh, and I know you have seen my nipples before little bloke, there was no need to try to bat mine off my breast this morning as I lay there trying to sleep in after new years. :eek:
Why must you sound the CAT ALERT screech when you see one of the kitties in the back yard? They’re outside, you meathead! When they are three feet from you, you’re silent. What gives with that? Why must you poop in your water or splash it all over the damned kitchen? You get regular baths, fer godsakes! Yes, I know it is flock calling, but why the flock do you need to screech the paint off the walls at some ongodly hour just because you heard me roll over at dawn?
To Flashcat: Stop being a hog. You’re in no danger of starvation. You get fed quite well here, and I know you grab other snacks elsewhere in the neighborhood. The mouseheads on the back porch are appreciated, but not when I’m running out of the house at 3AM to answer a fire call.
To Fatcat: Stop bashing Flashcat on the head for being a hog. I’m working with him, but I don’t think there’s a 12 step program for hoggy cats. You’re in no danger of starvation, either. Deal with it.
To Blackcat: When are you going to make me a grandfather? I know Flashcat likes to eat, but I bet there’s something else he’d like if you’d give him a sign. C’mon, a little ‘come hither, Mandingo and deal with me as you wish’ look should be sufficient. Jeez, you’re not getting any younger.
Conures are a type of parrot, smaller than the macaw, native to Mexico, Central and South America and the Caribbean Islands. In size they range from 9 to around 20 inches. Over 20 varieties are found in bird stores and pet shops, colors varying from green to bright yellow, with even more types still in the wild. Not big talkers, they can usually learn a few words, but are still quite intelligent creatures.
Tarot;
-Stop scratching the walls. There is nothing hidden behind them that could possibly interest you. You have a delightful cat house for this purpose. I know you use it - I have seen you do it. Why the walls? There are no bugs or shadows to chase; why?
-Stop licking that plastic bag. I realize that I inadvertantly left it where you could get at it - but cut it out! It is 3 am. Plastic cannot possibly have a taste - why must you do this?
-Please stop removing the filter from the top of your litter box. It is there for a reason, you nasty crap factory.
-Please, please, please stop attacking my feet. I have no interest in perforated feet. You have sharp teeth and sharper claws. You must realize that I do not like this habit of yours; do you think I pour glasses of water on you because I like being attacked and want it to continue?
-Stop pushing your toys under the stove. It is not my fault you have nothing to play with. If you look carefully under the stove, you will notice 3 fur mice, 4 ping pong balls, innumerable twist ties and your favorite cable tie. I realize that I used to get them out for you, under the mistaken impression that you had accidentally knocked them there, but now I know better. What fun can there be in shoving your toys where you cannot get at them?
Stop howling every time I close the door to my room. You will know if I’m in here by the loud cries of “SHUT UP YOU BLASTED CAT” that come from behind the door in response to your YOWs. Just. Shut. Up.
See this black thing in front of me? This is a keyboard. It does not need fur in it. Yes, I know it’s the same color you are, but that doesn’t mean I want you stepping on the keys.
You may sit in my lap. I said SIT in my lap. Yes, I see your bum. Please do not stick it in my face.
To Francois: Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!!! I’ve been having fantasies about fried quaker parakeet, and if you don’t stop that terrible, terrible sound, I’m going to make them come true.
To Jingle Bells and Sam Adams: I’m glad you clever little ratties are using your litterbox sometimes, but I’d appreciate it if you’d up the usage percentage to 100 instead of 60ish. Oh, and if you could stop ‘marking’ on me, that’d be super.
An extra note to Jingle Bells: I think if you’d stop the hyperactivity and just hang out for a sec you may find it enjoyable. Otherwise, I’m going to have to find your stash of whatever caffeine-addled treats you’ve got and get rid of them.
PS Francois: No, really. You’re driving me insane. Shut…the…h***…up.
I realize that your sharp eyes see that leaf blowing a block away, and that your keen ears hear the neighbor sneezing three doors down. But do you really need to BARK about it? And the rest of you - just because one starts barking, you don’t ALL have to join in - you don’t even know what you’re barking at, fools! If a burglar tries to break in, I give you my blessing to bark your little throats out. Until then, kindly shut up. (And, FYI, the UPS man was NOT scared by you barking ferociously while hiding behind my legs. No, he was amused. Sorry about that.)
You have, according to my estimates, an infinite supply of rawhide bones, which you dearly love. I trip over them lying in the floor. I roll over them while sleeping. They’re everywhere. Is there any particular reason why you all desire the same bone at the same time? Do you take a vote each morning on which bone is “it” for the day? When I see one dog proudly chewing, while the rest of you mope around and try devious tactics to distract so you can dart in and steal it away, while other bones lie mere inches away - well, the sympathy ain’t coming from me, got it?
Yes, I realize it rained today, and the ground is wet. Your feet will get damp when I force you outside to potty. You will not melt. Please get off the porch and do your business, instead of huddling next to the door, shivering and looking pathetic. I’ll even dry your feet for you when you come in, but there’s simply no place left in this house that you can sneak off to to pee - I will find it, and you will be spanked.
You seem to have forgotten who it was doing the every 3 hour feedings when we got you in April when you were 3 weeks old. Here’s a clue, it was NOT your beloved daddy person. It was me ! It was me who had you on my shoulder for about 16 hours a day, me who worked with you until you learned that pooping on people was not cool. But do you love me now ? Only if the daddy person is not here. Wench.
And please stop trying to eat the walls. it’s bad for you it really is. So is the styrofom you seem to have an obsession with.
And I know you don’t like pellet as much as you like seed, but the vet told me that pellet is better for your little cockatiel self so you will continue to find it in the food dish. And throwing it out will not change things. Oh I know that the daddy person gives you seed with your pellet, but just remember he has to back to work someday. Then the Mama person is in charge again. Bwahahahaha
Despite what you think my name is NOT love you, I want you to say love you but stop calling me that. You can say the daddy person’s name well enough.
Oh and that wolf whistle thing you picked up recently . drop it. One day some woman is going to smack your dear daddy person in the head for that one.
