OK, so who does own a human? My best friend, Ernie and I own a couple of people. They’re really not so terrible, but, gosh, humans certainly are not the brightest of creatures, are they?
To be fair, Frannie has been known to sharpen her claws every now and again, she has a shiny and well-groomed coat, and heck, I think I’ve even heard her purr from time to time, but her bathing habits are… well, “odd,” to be sure. Oh, and she sometimes eats the strangest things. I’d rather not get into details, because I do love her in a basal sort of way – heck, who wouldn’t? But, gosh, she needs to think more like a cat.
– Oscar Claude (Posting from Frannie’s computer while she’s out shopping or some such thing)
What I want to know is, where do these people get off asking “Who Owns a Cat?” Everyone knows that cats own people, not the other way around.
I mean, look at the facts.
That Scotti, for instance. She goes to work so she can afford to feed me, pay my vet bills, buy me snacks and toys. I allow her a certain amount of time playing on her computer, but when I feel like getting some attention, it is a simple matter of draping myself over her keyboard. Heh.
Sometimes I let her read a book. I always wait until she is in the most exciting part before sitting on the book and preventing her from finishing it. Heh.
Who gets the best places to sit and sleep in my house? Heh.
Well, I may not look like a cat, but I sure think I am one. Why else would “the other cat” Sheba wrestle with lil’ ole me?
As for Tubagirl, she must understand that is her privilege to be my accomodating pillow. I let her pet me and share a bed with me. Her stinky husband Chris is allowed to feed me on a regular basis, but heck if I will eat “dog” food! Do I look like a dog to you??? No! I’m a princess, make me boiled chicken and rice or I wont to eat for days!
As for their habits? Eh, I ignore them except when is time to bless them with my slight weight on their laps. They do move around a bit more than I would like, but hey! what can I do? They are humans. hrumph!
Well that is about all I care to talk about today. Mind you! I’m not a dog! I’m a princess!
I’ve got me two really nice people. I’ve trained her to bring me food and to fetch me kitty treats. Even though I have the best spot on the bed, I let her share my pillow. When I think the man-person needs a little bit of exercise, I let him chase me around the house. He doesn’t know that it really doesn’t bother me. Every once in awhile, like when my belly itches, I let him catch me so he can scratch those hard to reach places.
We rule our human with an iron paw. We slap him around at will and make him like it!
Treats are ours whenever WE want them. Not just when he feels like it.
We even play this game with him. First one of us poops in the box. Then we wait and watch. Just after he scoops that one, then the other goes poopoo. He scoops, then the last one of us goes. He scoops once more and we all have fun laughing at him!
Then, just after he sits down to relax, one of us goes peepee and the fun starts all over again.
Like the poor guy ever had a chance. Three female cats vs. one male human. Ha!
