I buy you a hundred fucking chew toys. So why do you have to chew my remote, my wallet, (along with all my credit cards) my smart phone and the cord off of my vacuum cleaner? Why!?
Also, I know you meant well, but dragging a dead bunny through the dogie door and leaving it so lovingly on my kitchen floor, really isn’t my thing.
Dear cat,
My key board is NOT a place for you to take a nap.
Also, THOSE AREN’T FUCKING BED MICE! THEY’RE MY FUCKING TOES! QUIT TRYING TO KILL THEM WHEN I SLEEP!!
I am not nocturnal. I require 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep a night. Every night. Yes, even those nights when you want to play. Please, please, please do not wake me up at five in the morning. Yes, I know you enjoyed doing this yesterday, and the day before, and for the past week. Please stop.
Further: If you must wake me up, just come up to my bed, and I will pet you. But please, for the love of merciful Cthulhu, don’t start yowling in the kitchen until I haul my ass out of bed to pet you while you eat. I’m begging here.
I don’t know how you do it, but is it REALLY necessary, no matter where we go, for you to locate the only puddle of mud in a 5 mile radius and immediately flop down in it? You are the most efficient mobile mud transference mechanism I have ever seen. Unfortunately, that means transferring mud from elsewhere to my clean floors.
I am fully aware how much you love Mommy. And Mommy loves you every bit as much.
However… that being said, Mommy is fully capable of going to the bathroom alone. You really do not have to come with me and sit and stare. I promise-there is only one way in or out of the bathroom. There is no window. I am not going to flush myself out of your life. I WILL BE BACK.
Scruffy - I’m sure you’ve noticed how I’ve been hanging around the house the last 2 months. That’s called “retired” and it means I no longer have to wake up at 5 in the dark of the morning. So you don’t either. You can sleep in - you don’t have to bark to go out when I’m dead asleep. It’d probably help if you didn’t fall asleep at 8 every evening and give me the stink eye when I take you out for one last pee. If you’d pee then, you could sleep past 5 in the dark of the morning. Stoopit dog.
Taz - You’re not that big a cat, so I don’t mind sharing my half of the kingsize bed with you. But it would be some much more comfortable for me if you’d settle in at the foot of the bed instead of plastering yourself against my hip or my back. And it’s really not a good idea for you to come between me and my husband - he’ll toss your butt out of the room in a heartbeat. I know you will sleep at the foot - I see you do that during the day when no one else is asleep. A good kitteh would do that at night also.
I realize that nature designed you to be a very efficient pooping machine, but would you please not seek out my most important documents and most treasured clothing items before doing so? Don’t make me buy a birdie butt plug.
Sheba- You don’t fit through the cat gate. In fact, that’s why we have a cat gate. Shoving your head through it and sticking out your tongue will not let you reach the cat’s food. Crying will not incite us to let you through to his litter box; we know you can’t go down there, because we’re the ones who put up the gate. Enough already!
Maeve, you’re a gorgeous cat and I’ve always loved your fiercely independent nature. However, you’ve got to understand that the other two cats live here too and I’m not going to get rid of them no matter how much you poop on the floor. Though that is the reason you have to stay in the back of the house most of the time.
Willow, what the hell is the attraction in soybean pods??
I’m aware that shoelaces must taste really good. Yum yum! But when you eat the shoelaces out of everyone’s shoes, it makes every morning a scramble to find yet another pair of intact shoelaces and thread them through before the school bus comes. It’s getting really old.
The laundry door is open so you can get out of the rain. Why, then, do you insist on lying in the middle of the grass when it’s pissing down?
The laundry door is open so you can get out of the weather in general. It is NOT open so you can march in and headbutt the toilet door open while I’m in there. MY KNEE IS ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THAT DOOR.
Toilet paper is not a food group.
Neither is a bicycle.
No, we don’t want to play fetch with a dead bird. Not even if you toss it enticingly in the air and drop it at our feet. Especially not then. Your drool has a rather unpleasant soap-like quality that just adds to the general miasma of disgust around le birde corpse.
75lb of dog does not easily fit into one’s lap. Not even if said dog sidles up and gradually flows into said lap. I can’t see your daddy underneath you, but I think from the flailing of his limbs you’ve managed to park all 75lb of yourself on his testicles. Please refrain from doing that.
You’re clever. I know you’re clever. You can open bottles, distinguish “Blue ball” from “purple wobba” and have figured out the basic mechanism of door handles. Why can you not comprehend that the thing attached to your butt is your own tail?
Otherwise, you’re a darling dog and I love you.
~S
PS - Wet mally undercoat smells like humid ass. This is why you shouldn’t sleep in the rain, dumbass.
Can we just play without it turning into a snarl and bite-fest? I understand that Scottish Terriers can be high-strung and were bred to kill all sorts of nasty shit, but that doesn’t mean that one must snarl and attack my feet when, for example, I’m throwing the ball for you.
Also, and it’s totally my fault, but I don’t need to be escorted to the kitchen every friggin’ time I step towards the room.
You dipshit.
Lovingly,
Master
(Sometimes I just want to buy this dog a rat, throw the both of them in the shed, and let her have her day in the sun.)
Cats- I know it’s cold outside at night now- in the 60’s!- but please refrain in the future from sitting/laying on my legs to bathe your entire body with your tongue while I’m trying to fall asleep.
Black cat- you’re not going outside. No! No! No! Stop meowing!
Other cat- how come you never meow? What kind of silent freak of nature are you??
It is not necessary to maim me with the Beak of Death if I am not preening your head correctly. It isn’t even necessary to threaten to do do. Just squeak, or turn your head a little.
Dear cat,
Revenge urination is a dish best never served at all.
Caelan - You’ve been a good boy for so long. What triggered this mornings rampage? The girls and I were sleeping peacefully until 2am, when you decided that the bed belonged to you and only you. First you pounce on the other cats and drive them to the floor, then you start in on me. Knocking my water bottle off the nightstand is something you’ve done before, but this time you had to work at it. Then, when I’ve finally given up and dragged my sorry ass out of bed at 5am, you have the nerve to jump up on my shoulder and blert a happy “Good Morning!” into my ear, making me melt at your cuteness.
You are adorable, and you know it. You are smart; sometimes, smarter than the combined IQ of the homo sapiens in the house. Why is it then, that you cannot connect the cause and effect of “I pick up something, chew it, and swallow it while the humans scream and wave their arms” with “my whole day is ruined by going to the vet’s, being made to puke, and being put on an IV and deprived of my humans’ company.”
I swear! Cigarette butts, broken glass, a razor blade, every piece of string, rubber band, hair band, bit of broken wicker, splinter of wood, and lethal looking insect in the world has made its way into my dog’s mouth. We have about a 95% success rate of getting her to drop it without swallowing, but that remaining 5% . . . oy.
Ah, Nikki. It was so kind of you to make a ruckus and wake Mr. Horseshoe up on the one day he has to get up reallyreally early about a half-hour before his alarm was set to go off. It was even kinder of you, once I got his tired, cranky ass out the door, to promptly go barf up a hairball on the corner of the sheet.