Severian's Monologues

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A poem for my Grammy

April 18th 2010 2:20 pm
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Grammy, I'm sorry you had to go,
Because I loved you so much, you know.
You tickled my paws, you scratched my tummy,
You brought me toys and treats so yummy.
I know that humans and pets all die,
But we'll meet again, I know, bye and bye.

I thought I'd go first to the Bridge of the Rainbow,
But you beat me there, and because that's so,
You must practice all your tickles and scratches
With all those other wonderful catses*
And when you look up one day and see me,
We'll be together for all eternity.

*poetic license

 

Grammy went to the bridge

April 17th 2010 10:46 pm
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I hope my brother Patch was there to greet Grammy when she went to the bridge Saturday night. She never had any pets of her own, but liked to play with us when she visited.

I will miss my Grammy very much.

 

Purrs for Grammy, please?

April 9th 2010 8:45 pm
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I'm kind of a picky cat when it comes to humans. I don't dislike any, but I only warm up to a few. Besides Mom & Dad, my favorite is Grammy, Dad's mama. I don't mind that she always forgets I don't like my feet touched. She remembers when I bite her, ever so gently. I don't even mind that she can't remember my name and calls me Zeb. When she comes over, I always run downstairs to see her. She knows how to talk to a cat, even though she never had one.

But Grammy hasn't been over for a week, and Mom says it's 'cause she's in the hospital. Some vet thing, I guess, but no vet ever kept any of us for a whole week.

So I think she could use some purrs, if you have any to spare.

 

Have I found happiness?

March 12th 2010 9:31 pm
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All my life I've been a needy kind of cat. The one who needs incessant attention. The one who acts out when he isn't happy with the home situation (like, we moved, or there's a strange cat in the neighborhood who looks at me through the window).

I have a history of peeing on rugs and sometimes things that aren't rugs but look like them. Like the Roomba. Or my daddy's computer case. Sometimes it was so bad that Mom and Dad put me on anti-anxiety drugs. They didn't like that because it kind of made me a zombie, and really it didn't help all that much with my antisocial behavior.

I thought I was a frustrated czar. Always there was a cat ahead of me -- older, bigger, stronger, smarter. I thought I would be happy if I were king.

But y'know what? I'm not king, and maybe I really never wanted to be. My brother Bear is the top cat now, and the pressure is off. Mom and Dad say I have never been more calm and loving. I let my sister Vicki sleep on top of me in my favorite bed. I actually play with Bear. I groom Jasper (I've given him so much trouble that he isn't sure he wants to groom me, but give it time).

I think I've been depressed for a long time, and my sister Vicki has brought out the best in me. She likes me. She likes to play with me, but she also likes to cuddle with me. She licks my ears. She doesn't threaten me. She is a very good sister, and I apologize for hissing at her and trying to pee on her when she first appeared. (Well, she did look kind of like a rug).

 

How did this happen?

February 20th 2010 2:31 pm
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"A wise man fights to win, but he is twice a fool who has no plan for possible defeat." (Louis L'Amour)

Oh, man, I've been reading the wrong books. Why didn't I pick up "The Art of War"? I was ready for the showdown with that Nordic wimp. He's been dodging me for weeks, and I figured one more smacky-paw challenge would be enough to cement my superior household position.

But when he turned around and rose up on his haunches with his paws in the air, he looked like a g-g-g-g-grizzly bear! And that hiss sounded like the winds screaming through the branches of Yggdrasil! I was beat, and I knew it.

Well, I am not alone in my defeat. Jasper has also been dethroned. Funny that he doesn't seem to care all that much. He came over and gave me a head wash. Well, if he can take it, so can I. Actually, I feel a little less anxious now. My sweet sister Vicki says she still thinks I'm the swellest cat in the house. Perhaps I will now devote myself to being her obedient and loving brother.

 

I hate being the middle child

February 13th 2010 12:58 pm
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You know, it was kind of working out here as my elder sibs, Jasper and Onyx, got longer in the tooth. Or fewer in the tooth, as the case may be. I was never able to dislodge Jasper as alpha cat -- still can't, in fact -- but we sort of worked out a coalition government. I figured I'd outlast him, and Onyx doesn't have much interest in politics, so I'd finally get to be top cat.

But now we have these newbies. Victoria is definitely not a threat. What a girly-girl! But Bear ... now Bear is a real game-changer. I mean, he's only 10 months old and he already outweighs me by five pounds.

So far he doesn't seem to have the fire in the belly to be king of the mountain. When I offer a challenge -- a little right hook, a little up-on-the-hind-legs razzle-dazzle -- he thinks I want to play. He throws himself on his back, puts up his paws and gives me this "Yeh! Let's wrestle!" look. What a dope.

Sigh. Why is my life so complicated?

 

I want to be loved

February 1st 2010 8:57 pm
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I know I'm easy to look at, but I'm kind of an anxious cat. When people see me, they say stuff like "Oh, how sleek!" and "Oh, look at those gorgeous green eyes!" But two minutes later, my gregarious elder brother Jasper comes in and makes the full circuit, checking out every guest in turn and giving a head butt or an ankle rub. That guy knows how to work a room. He should run for president. He never fails to come out of the room with a treat.

Then my new siblings, the long-haired darlings, enter and swish around with those big floofy tails and all the pink monkeys practically fall over themselves, leaning over and making ridiculous little baby sounds. Well, OK. They are cute. I'll give them that. So is elder sister Onyx, with her huge eyes and round head and little short legs and tail. I dunno. She's sort of like E.T. Something about her makes people want to cuddle her, although to be honest she doesn't much like cuddling.

You know who likes cuddling? Me. I love to be cuddled. I could live my life in the arms of some devoted human who would give up working and mowing the lawn and all that stuff just to carry me around. Mom bought an infant sling for me on eBay as a joke and I adored it. Oh, to be next to Mom's warm heart all day long....

I really want to be loved. I'm not saying that I'm not loved at all. They do their best. Mom has to type her entries to Catster with one hand because I'm lying on the other one in front of her monitor. Dad doesn't roll over in bed at night because he knows I'm sleeping on top of him and he doesn't want to disturb me. They even gave up having any carpets or rugs in the house because I have this compulsion to pee on rugs. Or anything that looks like a rug. I destroyed the Roomba. I anointed Mom's new leather work tote bag just this Christmas.

And all those people who admire my sleek black fur and green eyes think I must be a little devil. I wonder, would I have more fun as a blond?

 
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Severian DB #165b


 

Family Pets

Bear DB #165a
Angel Onyx
Jasper, Angel
Dreamboat #49a
Victoria
Patch, Angel
Dreamboat #49b

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