P.S.
Eddy, really, do you HAVE to deposit a smelly cat doodoo in a just-scooped litter box the instant I am through scooping said box? Couldn’t you go poop in an UNSCOOPED box? It’s not like I don’t scoop frequently, and it’s not like you don’t each have a litter box.
Dear CC,
The bulimia isn’t cute. Okay, your pudge actually is pretty adorable. But the vomit piles–not so much. Also, stop stealing Rex’s treats. He needs to gain weight. You do not.
I know you are cranky ever since we left Grandma and Grandpa’s mansion for this apartment. I know it is woefully inadequate from your point of view. But I told you from the start, we were only living there temporarily, between apartments. It’s not my fault you let yourself get accustomed to the lap of luxury. You can stop the constant complaining already.
Also, you should know, everyone else thinks Grandpa is an asshole. Stop sucking up to him. The rest of the family thinks it reflects badly on your character that he’s the only person you don’t hiss at (besides me). Especially when he gets done yelling at Grandma, and you run over to give him adoring kisses. What the fuck are you thinking?
Finally, “Trip Mommy!” is not an acceptable form of entertainment. Someday, I’m going to fall right on top of you, and even all that pudge won’t be enough protection. You should also keep in mind that if I’m laid up with a broken ankle, I won’t be able to fill your food bowl six times a day.
That said, I love when I am sitting around, reading a book or watching TV, and you come curl up beside me and purr, and sometimes kiss me on the nose. That is sweet. That is nice. Good kitty.
Love, Mommy
Dear Rex,
You are a model kitty. You are sweet and smart and well-behaved and funny. You make me smile every day. I love how you come when I call your name. I love how you snuggle up next to me in bed. I love how your fur always smells cute. I even love how you are always getting up to some kind of new and silly mischief. I think you have spoiled me for other cats.
But, for the love of God, you have to stop with the incessant, obsessive kneading! My upper arms are covered with little tiny scratches. My stomach has freakish bruises all over it. I know you love me. I know you know I am your Mommy. Just give me a nice hug, and leave it at that. Mommy is not biscuits. She is not bread dough. And no milk is coming out of my body, no matter how hard you mush me.
Love, Mommy
Dear Blue,
Stop biting all my electrical wires in half. I know bunnies need to chew, but wtf. Also, keep being cute and give me bunny kisses.
Flander
Dear Auggie, The Cutest Dog on the Planet ™, please stop sniffing the kitties’ butts. They really don’t like it, and the fact that they swat you on the nose everytime you do it hasn’t seemed to drive the point home.
Love,
Mom
Dear Olive
It’s kind of gross that you eat up Mango’s sick, but even worse is the fact that the moment you hear him start to retch you go and wait for it to come up…it reminds me of baby birds.
I do appreciate that I don’t have to clean up though.
Mummy
Dear Cap’n,
I wuvs you too you big, goofy, loveable dog, but will kindly quit puking on my freshly steam cleaned carpets?
While we’re at it, the squirrels running across our back fence are not TEH EV-IL and there is no need to go apeshit bonkers every time you see one, like every five freakin’ minutes.
The same goes for the crows that make the mistake of landing on our back lawn.
I missed you too while I was at work, but really, these 15 minute lovefests are a bit over the top. I will give you loves and skritches, but you need to sit down and quit scratching me in your exuberant display of affection.
I need to wash myself down with soap and water after your kisses. I don’t mind a little lick on the hand, but, really, I have soap and water and am quite capable of cleaning myself.
People food is for PEOPLE and not you. Do not rest your head in my lap while I’m trying to eat my dinner and drool. You have food in your bowl. Nice, crunchy, fresh food. You do not see me trying beg for your food, do you?
Finally, I know you really, really, really, really, really, really, really, REALLY, REALLY, REALLY love me, but please quit going barking nuts when anyone tries to hug me. I have more than enough love left over for you, so you will not be shorted in that department.
Love,
Mom
Dear HRH Princesscat Bridget,
Aw… you know you’re irresistable, right?
Please let me love you…
You are tucked into the most delectable kittyloaf just behind me… I promise I will protect you from HRH Domino the Dominator who is watching every move you and I make. We both know he is OOHM. Please, just this once, come upstairs to bed with your brothercat and me and snuggle? HRH Domino will also be welcome but I PROMISE he will never fulfill any of his threats to your person. PROMISE!
But… if you will not, please know that I love you even if you cuddle up with the fuzzy kitty beds in the basement… but I will be thinking of you, darling love.
Dear Kitty Claire (AKA Meeper)…
You can cuddle sometimes… really… you can. It doesn’t just have to be when I pick you up and force it on you. You could snuggle at bed time, sit on my lap while I drink coffee. I’ll even put the dogs up… all you have to do is figure out how to jump the baby gate. I know you dig the birds at the garage window too, but screaming to be let in to the garage will get you no where. I’m the gate keeper of the bird window and I expect some ((#@@ !cuddling from my cats.
Dear Milton…
Who is a big, handsome boy? You are! You are!
However, the drooling/kneading/sleeping on my head thing got old a long, long time ago. P.S teach Claire how to jump the damn baby gate.
Dear Nellie The Elephant: - You are the best working dog I’ve ever had. However, sheep do not need to be moving at warp speed all the tme. Also, your jealousy over Jane, who is a fine dog in her own right, does not warrant you and her pulling down my computer monitor on yourselves whilst in the middle of a bitch fight. Lucky for you, we were able to restore connection or a certain other person who lives here would have KILLED you both had he not been able to play WOW.
Dear Jane ,
“It” won’t get you. Really, “It” won’t. Not the thunder, not the wind, not me unless you start picking on Nellie. You play the victim all you want, but I can see the sneaky nips, the antagonizing. I don’t forget either that Nellie tolerated you for the first two years of your life while you pulled ears, tails and generally messed with her. She’s had enough and so have I.
Dear **Rhett ** .
You were once a brave, super nice cow dog. You are now 13 and earned your place on the couch, your kibble wet down so you will eat it before someone chases you off it and constant kitty access. You have always been the best, sweetest dog and I am not mad at you for this. However… every night before I go to bed, I let you dogs out one last time. I realize you probably don’t hear me go to the door but I’ve mastered the art of getting your attention. There is no need to spend 10 minutes deciding whether you want to go out. You ALWAYS have to go out. Every…single…night. So quit wasting your time and and making me feel like a fool begging you to come outside!
Dear Leary ,
You are also 13 and did NOT earn your current life of leisure. Nope… not even a little bit. You are the most worthless sheepdog that ever lived. Seriously.
Lucky for you that you are kinda cute and I’m a big softie.
Dear Bess ,
You won’t be here much longer as you have a new home in pretty, green WA where it’s much cooler than here and you will have WAY MORE sheep to work. I will miss you a lot but it will really be the best thing for ya.
While you stay here though, I’d rather you come to the door to go outside in an orderly manner and a OH MY GOD WE ARE GOING OUTSIDE AGAIN! whining, freak fest during which any person or animal that was formerly asleep will be jarred out of peaceful slumber with a distinct wish to kill something.
Dear Maggie May,
Would you please not lay down behind the fan that faces me when you have to pass gas?
Thank you very much
Dear Lunabrat:
You are not a badger. No one’s impressed by your ability to fling litter in a 3 foot radius all around the litterbox. If you want to scrabble madly with all four paws every time you make a boom-boom, do me a favor and start using the covered litterbox.
It might be nice, too, if with all that scuffling and litter flinging you would manage to, I don’t know, actually cover your business! Oreo is probably getting tired of covering your stuff for you.
Love,
Mom
P.S. If you must drool, please don’t wait until I’m almost asleep and then attempt to shove your dripping snout up my nostril.
Dear Oreobrat:
My drink is on the end table for a reason. That bucket is under the toilet tank for a reason. Your water bowl is on the floor for a reason. That reason is NOT so you can tip them over and watch liquid run everywhere, then dip your dainty paw in and lick it off. Do it again and I’m giving you a BATH.
Love,
Mom
11 cats 1 dog? :eek:
monstro makes an excellent point, I have found 90% of litter box problems can be solved by more and large boxes, with more frequent scooping.
**
Marlitharn** Make/get deeper box for Lunabrat. Worked for my cat/s.
Taters: it is fairly likely that Cap’n is wolfing his food too fast. Smaller portions, or they have a higher dog dish that helps. Seen a vet?
Cute thread though. 
Dear Zyll,
Yes, you are my first and oldest baby, and I really do love you best. I know you’re miserable, what with the deafness and allergies and asthma, and I am very sorry. Please try to understand I am doing the best I can for you, but you make it tough when you’re mean to everyone and try to claw my eyes out whenever I come near you.
I also would like to humbly request that you use a litter box. Either one will do. I truly want to let you out of your room to sit in the sun and play with the others once in a while, but I am disinclined to do so when it only means I will have to first find wherever you decided to poop and pee (occasionally with bare feet!) and then clean it all up.
Dear Gateway,
Yes, yes, for Pete’s sake, go outside. Enough already. Never mind that the reason I have kept you mostly indoors is that you’re a big spotted dummy and I worry about you finding your way back. Also, I got the message. You’ve successfully caught one of the evil lurking dog toys/taken a poo/saw Midnight do someting sneaky/realized you have a voice. It is not necessary to yowl about it at the top of your lungs, and especially not at my door at 2 am. You’re my love muffin and you always will be, but you get on my nerves sometimes.
Dear Midnight,
You think you’re getting away with something. I know everything.
Please return 38 hair ties, the drain plug from the tub, 4 socks, the dog’s woobie, and this month’s electric bill. No questions will be asked.
Dear Jaxom,
You are a dog. Specifically, you are a Black Lab and Chow mix, which makes you much larger than the average housecat. This means that you will not fit in the places the cats can go, such as under the bed, on my lap, or on top of the coffee table. Please act accordingly. Also, while I am aware that you have adopted some catlike mannerisms, this does not mean you entirely fit in with the cat crowd. They don’t need a policeman, and I don’t need you to make sure everything’s on the up and up every time I touch one of them. We’re all family, here.
Also, while I regret that you must make your trips outside attached to a cable, you must realize that it’s for your own safety. We don’t have a fence yet, but I promise it’s coming and you will be able to run around inside it all you want. In the meantime, it is not necessary for you to show your displeasure with the cable by using it to trip Mommy. 50 pounds of dog wrapped around my ankle on a quarter inch metal cable and running the opposite direction could break bones, and as it is, you have very nearly severed my achilles tendon. Stop it.
Love, Mommy
Nine cats, three dogs. Queenie, Cassie and Hanna are dogs.
I have litter boxes everywhere through out the house. I scoop and replace the litter frequently. She started that behavior years ago. At one point she had access to the outside when ever she wanted and would mostly go outside. Then we moved to a house were she mostly stayed inside. She was fine until we got a second cat. As the alpha queen she refused to share the box. She is fat old lazy cat and there is just no way to give her a “private” box.
She uses the old towels we leave down so its not that bad but it does grind on ones nerves when I see her use the box because she is being watched.
At least she does not use the beds or the couch.
monstro I loved those rebuttals 
Dear Lucretia D. Hellcat:
You are also not make of glass. I cannot type with you in my fsce. SDfgsd SDFdsgF. :flings cat: I understand that your great[sup]256[/sup] grandfather ate my great[sup]256[/sup] grandfather, but that does not me you can eat my skull at 0300. Times have changed, I outweigh you by 150lbs., and own a boom stick.
Dear Maggie Wonderbeagle:
You were the best dog ever, and I will alway miss you. Even Lucretia misses you.
Dear Bernie,
You’ve been part of the family for over 11 years now. You’re not stupid - you know the routine. When I call you in from the yard, that means now, not after you check out one more leaf and oh, a new stick has fallen from the sky, and, hey, did a squirrel cross this patch of grass sometime in the last month??? OK, maybe it’s a game for you to make me approach before you bound joyfully towards the door. But seriously, it’s not fun when I’m barefoot and it’s dark out. If you don’t want to be taken out on the leash every-single-time, please knock it off. There’ll be more butt skritches in it for you if you do.
Kisses,
Mom
Dear Scruffy,
We’ve pretty much figured out that you’re mostly deaf and you’re not ignoring us. It happens - the vet figures you’re about 10 and since we have no idea how long you were a stray or what happened to you during that time, we deal. But you have to understand that you don’t have to bark-bark-bark-bark-bark-bark-bark-bark every time I don footwear or the entire time I’m making your supper. Have I ever failed to feed you? I don’t think so. Have I ever forced you to hold your poo and pee rather than let you out? I don’t think so. Just because you’re deaf, it doesn’t mean we’re all deaf.
Plus if you’re going to “bury” your doggie treats in corners, Bernie will find them and eat them. Quit attacking her. If you really want to hide your treats, take them under the bed - the big dog can’t fit there.
And quit chasing Brandy. She’s never done anything to you.
Love,
Adopted Mom
Dear Brandy,
Would you please just whap Scruffy upside the nose and be done with it? You know durn well that if you smacked her, she’d quit chasing you for no apparent reason. Besides, you can jump easily out of her path - you’re nimble and graceful and feline, fercryin’outloud!
I do appreciate that you no longer walk on my head at 3 in the morning. Good kitty.
Love and snuggles,
Mom
I love you, bud. You are a hard cat, independent, solid. Just my sort of cat. I don’t like the little presents you leave all over back garden - just eat the damn mouse, ok. I didn’t like the way you cost me in vet fees, either. If you want to fight, then don’t get bit. But I still love you. And you adjusted to sleeping in the garage really well - I really like the way you trot to the door at bedtime, and I don’t have to carry you struggling and toss you in like I used to. You are a great puddy-tat.
I didn’t want a cat. It was too hard last time, when we left NZ. But my wife convinced me, to help your owners out when they had to get rid of you. And you won me, with snuggles and fighting and all. And you never got on the furniture, and only occasionally jumped on the bench, and you stayed out the back and didn’t go on the road…
But, you make my (not so) little girl sneeze and sniffle. And I love her just a wee bit more, most of the time. So we have to find you a new home. And it is going to break my heart, but I think that it is the way it has to be.
So I love you, and I’ll miss you. We’ll try to find you a nice home, somewhere with lots of space for you to roam, and hunt, and get filthy dirty, cause you like that.
Si
Dear Sabrina - You’re a wonderful sweet cat, even though it took you six months to decide to get down from the dresser. I’m sorry your old people had a baby and got rid of you - I don’t understand it either. I like the way you lay your paw on my leg when you want to be lifted to my lap. Congratulations on learning the dogs aren’t going to eat you. Please try to pick fewer fights with Spike.
Love, Mom.
Dear Papi-cat - You’re lucky I love you because no one else does. You know, you don’t have to be such a bitch all the time to the other cats. And you can try to suck up to the dogs all you want, they aren’t going to put a hit on Spike for you. I know you miss Mike, who loved cats. So do I. But just because one 100 kb dog loved cats doesn’t mean they all will. And try not to hold so many grudges. It’s just not attractive. Pouting for a week in the attic isn’t going to change the fact there’s a new animal in the family.
Love, Mom
Dear Spike - Some cats don’t want to play. Or fight. They just want to lay in their windowsill and watch the outside world. Leave them alone. And what’s up with the recent lounging in the bathtub? That’s just wierd. All in all, though, you’ve grown up nicely from a terrorist kitten to a nice cat. Just a word to the wise - that doberman weighs 90 lbs more than you. It’s not a good idea to walk up while he’s eating and stick your head in the bowl.
Love, Mom
Dear Nicky - You’re such a good boy. I’m sorry you’re not allowed on my bed anymore, but wetting on the bedspread three time while you’re sitting next to me is as much as I can take. I’m glad you enjoy being out in the fields and going with me to feed the horses. I like your company, too.
Love, Mom
**Dear Paddy **- Yes, you’re a good boy! What a good dog you are! I know you didn’t have much attention before and you looooove me. I love you too, but that doesn’t mean you can sneak into my lap (you weigh 65 lbs. Sneaking is not an option) or on the bed. Also, you don’t have to be touching me every minute that I’m home. I know you’re there and I won’t forget you.
Love, Mom
PS - Don’t tell Jake he’s getting neutered in 10 days
**Dear Maggie ** - Don’t tell the others, but you’re my favorite. You’re the best dog in the world. Sweet, loving, enthusiastic. You’re my bouncy poodly girl. You’re every good thing a dog can be. Don’t change.
Love you most, Mom
Dear Wolf - You know, when I took you in I said you’d just be a guest for the rest of your life. No getting attached, no spending real money. Just a place sto stay since your first, second and third owners abandoned you. Then you were paralyzed. It was a choice of a needle or a hospital stay. I chose the hospital. At first you were very standoffish, even though you’d known me for years. Now when my car pulls in, you come to meet me with your tail wagging. At first you were afraid to come in the house. Now you come in and find your favorite spot. You were a big old barn dog. Now you’re a pet.
Love you, Mom
Dear Jake - I know I haven’t had you very long, but you’re settling in well. You need to work a little harder on the food agression isssues. You’re a lovey boy disguised as a big bad doberman. BTW - you’re going for a ride in the car in a few days. Don’t worry about it.
Love, Mom
Dear Grace - Who would’ve thought that two years ago when you were dumped by your lousy former owner you’d end up being such a great dog. You knew your place as soon as you stepped in the door. Right to the best dog bed and up you went. The vet says you have a heart murmur, but not to worry about it too much. YOu’re so manipulative. If one of the other dogs is on “your” bed, you come over to get petted. Since they’ll jump up for scritches too, you can run and claim the bed. Sneaky. I like that in a dog. You’re a very good girl.
Love, Mom
Dear Peanut - You know, when I whistle, there’s food coming. So why do you only walk half-way up the pasture so I have to take your grain the rest of the way? Irish comes all the way up. And since I feed near the water troughs, it’s a conveniant time to get a drink, too. You’re a cute fuzzy boy.
Love, Mom
Irish - I know, I treat you more like a dog than a horse. You’re a good boy, and haven’t escaped the pasture once since I brought you Peanut to keep you company. You’re my beautiful boy.
Love, Mom
Pepita,
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Dear Sienna,
Stop stealing the Og-damned bread. I do not care that it was stale or that I was going to throw it out anyway. It’s really, really, really annoying to come home after being gone for less than 20 minutes and find out that you were SO DESPERATELY ALONE and in need of food* that you had to steal things from on the counter. If you keep stuff like this and the roast beef incident up, you’re not going to be allowed out of our sight while we’re at home.
*For further reference, your food bowl is almost always full and in the dining room in the corner it has always been in. Seek it out next time you are hungry.
Daddy and mommy may love you, but Mommy is still going to get annoyed when you do things to annoy her. You know better, and you’re going to be punished every time we catch you.
-Mommy.
