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Hetty Miep Wainthropp Investigates...

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This Is Not Okay

January 29th 2013 3:23 pm
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As every cat in my family knows, I am HoH (head of household) and alpha cat. Sure, Artie and Jack try and pretend that I’m not, but deep down they know they are my inferiors. So why the hell did Elvin think he could go off and die! Sure we weren’t besties (maybe he held some kind of grudge for all those times I caped him and yelled, “You’ve got cooties!), but he’s always been here. He was here when I was adopted and ignored my hissing and growls when we were introduced. He was the one permitted to sit by me at mealtime because he wouldn’t try and steal my food. I can’t believe my female human really thought I’d eat any meals yesterday. She had the stink of the vet all over her. And Elvin wasn’t next to me, smacking his food as noisy as possible (despite my disapproving glances in his direction). How am I supposed to eat without those stupid smacking noises? All the other cats eat too fast to even make any noises with their food.

First Garp left and now Elvin. All that’s left of the original crew is Hilda. Artie and those stupid kittens don’t count. I did not give Elvin permission to die. It’s not okay.


Roofing Madness

October 9th 2012 3:49 pm
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Things quickly went downhill in our household today when several men climbed on our neighbor’s roof and spent the entire day pounding on it. The male human says it looks like they still have a couple of days to go. I’ll never understand humans’ need to rip things up only to put the same thing back in place. And it always requires lots of pounding.

As Protector of the Household (and Head Brain), I spent the day watching the roofers for quality control. Elvin is old and spent his day doing his usual: sleeping. Artie told Jack and Sally some ridiculous story that ended with him shaking his stump at them. Sally squeaked and ran and hid in our male human’s closet. Artie, Jack, and Hilda all cowered in the front hall closet on our female human’s shoes. Cowards!

Despite what malicious rumors might suggest, I did not vomit because I was upset or scared. I was so disgusted with my siblings’ cowardice that I had to express it in a manner the humans would understand.


D.I.T. Investigation

January 24th 2012 4:50 pm
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Hetty Miep: Hear ye, hear ye! Sally and Hilda, you may now report your findings.

Hilda: Sally and I are pretty sure that Samoa’s brothers didn’t hack into her account.

Hetty Miep: Nonsense! What about that Inky?

Hilda: He’s too busy riding his pony.

Sally: Yee haw! I want a pony!

Hetty Miep: Sally! Quit jumping on the couch! It’s not a pony. Now, what about Newman?

Sally: Nope! He’s too busy sucking on the Mrs.’s arm and working on his Poopology sequel.

Hilda: And Violet’s too busy being a pony.

Hetty Miep: *sighs* Well, what about Gleek?

Hilda: No way he’d dare hack into Samoa’s account.

*Hetty Miep lets loose a string of bad words. Hilda runs over and covers Sally’s ears with her paws.*

Hilda: Face it, Hetty Miep. Whether you like it or not, Artie and Jack are Dreamboats-in-Training.


Bad Dreams

January 23rd 2012 6:09 pm
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Oh brothers! It was bad enough when Samoa made Artie a Dreamboat-in-Training. I didn’t say too much other than point out that Artie shouldn’t get too excited because Samoa had obviously made a mistake. Then, she had to go and make Jack a Dreamboat-in-Training too!

This can’t be true. It has to be one of Samoa’s sneaky brothers hacking into her Caster account. It has to be.

Now my stupid brothers are trying to get my little sister Sally to throw them a “Congratulations on being Dreamboats-in-Training” party. Those boys have no shame!

This is going to require a full-scale investigation. I might have to deputize my sisters.


Lower Three

December 1st 2011 12:27 pm
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Friends, consider this both an S.O.S. and a warning about what happens when three adult cats are forced to live with two kittens and a very immature brother cat (That’s right, Artie, I’m looking at you!). These three menaces are known as the “lower three” of the house. Although it is obvious to me that “lower three” refers to their overall ranking in the house (in terms of quality and desirability), the humans insist that “lower three” refers to age alone.

These lower three are trouble. They like to run around the house in a gang of three, while scratching, chewing, and pouncing on whatever catches their attention. Artie is even teaching Sally how to chew on boxes!

The worst part is that my humans now only respond to a fraction of the mayhem. I overheard my female human confess to the male human that sometimes, when she’s really tired, she pretends not to see/hear what’s going on because that means she’ll have to get up and go through the motions of chastising the gang of three.

No, wait. That’s not the worst part. The worst part is the humans laugh at half of what the lower three are doing. Or they mention how cute they are.

It’s not fair! Where are the standards? These lower three are getting away with things that we “upper three” never got away with—not that the humans could really ever stop us if we wanted to, but STILL!

As usual, I can see that it all rests on my shoulders.


I Was Right!

November 18th 2011 12:16 pm
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I warned the humans that those kittens would be trouble! And sure enough: yesterday morning, Sally chewed through the cord to the cable modem.

Hmmm...this kitten might have potential.

Oh, the rumor that I was spotted playing with Jack: exactly that—a rumor. I don’t care if the male human says that’s what he saw when I thought he wasn’t watching. It’s still just a rumor.


Random Chaos

November 10th 2011 1:29 pm
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The other morning within a one minute span of time, my female human called Artie “Jack”, Jack “Elvin”, and the male human “Artie”! The male human just shook his head and said, “I told you. See what happens when you have six cats.”

Then the female human erupted in a fit of giggles.

The good news is that Artie has quit pestering us so much now that he has the kittens to bother. And they seem to enjoy it!

The rumor that I was seen playing with Sally yesterday is not true. Maybe a little bit.

No, just a tiny bit.



October 11th 2011 7:28 pm
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As mentioned before, we are now in a Code Red situation. I have alerted the troops but they are useless. Every fiber of Elvin's being is focused on obtaining kitten food. Artie keeps making his stupid monkey grunts and trying to play with the kittens underneath the door. And Hilda? Even if I could find her, I doubt she'd be of any use.

It all rests on me now. It's me against the kittens. And the humans.

Oh, yes. The humans WILL be punished. Swiftly and far into the future.


Code Red

October 8th 2011 10:02 am
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I’m sorry to have to report that things are really falling down fast around here. First, the humans allowed Artie downstairs. Downstairs was always off limits to Artie because the female human would freak out about the stairs. But he apparently passed some invisible test and was awarded privileges that he didn’t earn.

Then, the humans quit locking Artie up in his own room at night. And he had the nerve to sleep on the humans’ bed, I mean my bed, with me! Where did that get him? A trip to the emergency vet (see Artie’s diary for details). If he’d been locked up in his own room at night like before, that NEVER would have happened.

Now: Code Red. CODE RED. Security has been breached. Intruders. Intruders in what the humans are now calling *deep sigh of dread* …the kitten room.


Big Boy’s Birthday

August 26th 2011 2:01 pm
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Don’t get me wrong, we love our Catster friends. But due to the generosity of these Caster friends on my little brother Artie’s birthday, the following events went down yesterday:

1) Artie ate one of his ice cream cone rosettes while leaning over the keyboard and staring at some stupid YouTube videos of cats and rabbits snuggling. He had ice cream dripping down his chin and onto the keyboard. Did he care or even notice? No. He kept squeaking (shouting, for Artie) “Artie loves rabbits! Artie wants a rabbit brother for his birthday! Artie shares ice cream with rabbit brother.” That’s right. Ice cream rosette on the computer monitor.

2) After the human told Artie he had eaten too many ice cream cone rosettes and would have to save the rest for later, Artie shoved an entire ice cream cone rosette in his mouth all at once. After all that sugar, he chased me around and tried to make me play rodeo. I decided to give Artie his birthday spankings then.

3) Artie and Elvin wouldn’t stop throwing Artie’s football rosette up and down the hallway, which interrupted my beauty sleep.

4) Somecat (named Artie!) threw one of his bouncy ball rosettes at the back of MY head. Then he had the nerve to imply that Hilda did it!

We’re all rather exhausted by Artie’s birthday. I guess that’s why they only come once a year!

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