My human bought me new things

My human bought me a new collar. I didn't care much for the old collar. Whenever my human freed me from it, I would grab it and bite it. I made it as fuzzy and dirty as I could. Of course, if my human was freeing me from it, I immediately suspected something was up. Sometimes she just wanted to rub my neck. Other times, she'd drop me in the bathtub.

My new collar is softer and apparently makes me cuter. I hardly notice it's there. My human also bought me a new comb, and she's been giving me daily brushing. My hair looks nice and pretty.

Where's the furniture?

My human is up to her tricks again. The furniture has disappeared, including all of the things I like to sleep on. Where are all the chairs? Where's my favorite rug? My human talks about "moving the hardest thing last" constantly as things around me keep disappearing. She put a towel and the funny looking duffel bag on the floor a couple of days ago and said something like, "Nothing happening here. Nothing to worry about." I recognize that duffel bag from somewhere... At least I have a towel to sit on, since everything soft is gone.

I'll never tell

My human came home two nights ago and found me outside the front door. She had been gone for 14 hours, and I was really hungry. She can't figure out, though, why I was outside. I have my own cat sized door on the back door, but she locked it because she didn't want me to go outside. She inspected my door and saw that the lock latch wasn't completely engaged, but she pushed on the door and it wouldn't open. Did I get outside through that door?

She swears that she didn't let me outside when she left in the morning, but she knows I'm quick and sneaky. She did have to carry a bunch of different things out the door that morning. Did I get outside that way?

None of the windows were open, except for one window that was cracked open a few inches. That window has a screen and leads to a twenty foot drop, anyway. Did I get outside through that window?

I'll never tell.

Who is this bloke?

A cat that takes the bus? I prefer to stay away from moving vehicles, thank you.

The things I have to endure

My human gets this strange compulsion to pet me every time she passes by me. Whenever I'm sleeping, which is about 90% of the time, she has to stop and pet me and ruffle my ears. Then she rubs my neck and taps my chin.

Then, when all I want is to get dinner in my bowl, she picks me up and squeezes me before she feeds me. Sometimes, it becomes gratuitous torture. She'll bounce me up and down in her arms. Then she'll put me down and ruffle my ears before she feeds me.

Yesterday, when she was trying to take a nap, I let her know how it feels to be disturbed. I tapped her chin with my paw, and when she didn't respond, I licked her eyelid. She said, "Eww..." Now she knows how I feel every time she puts her grubby human hands on me.

Of course, if she stops paying attention to me, I have to find out why and bug her.

What's with this daylight saving stuff?

My human fed me an hour later than she usually does this morning. She did this odd thing of going around and changing the clocks in every room before she went to bed. I don't need a clock to tell me when I should be fed. I just need opposable thumbs to open the cabinet and food container.

A few days ago was "Halloween," and my human carved my silhouette into a pumpkin. She put a candle inside the pumpkin and it cast a big shadow on the wall. It looked just like me. She also told me horror stories, like the one about the curious cat who annoyed her human. One day, the cat was taken away and she was never heard from again. I couldn't sleep at all that night, and I spent the night walking up and down my human's bed.

It's chilly this morning. I'm going back to bed.

Getting older

My human thinks about getting older all the time. I think it's a boring subject. Anything that makes my human spend time thinking about something that isn't about pleasing me is a boring subject. Look at me. My golden cat years are still far ahead. I'm not the little kitten I used to be, but dangle something stringy and shiny in front of me and I'll chase it for hours. That's because I don't take attitudes like, "I'm too old for that." Actually, I don't take any attitude at all. It's instinct that I must catch that shiny object! Then, I resume napping in order to save my strength to live a long life, as long as my human doesn't forget to feed me.

At last, my talent is recognized

Thank you Catster, for making my diary a feature of the day. I have to admit that I'm not a big fan of the Internet. It's an excuse for humans to waste time that would be better served paying attention to cats. When my human is on her computer, I walk across her keyboard whenever I feel like it. When she's away, though, I'll jot down some of my thoughts on my web pages and order things online.

Today, I spent a lot of time outside. Back in Texas, my human didn't like it when I was outside. I usually would escape when she wasn't careful, and she doesn't like it when I outsmart her. It's not that hard to outsmart a human, though. She was heading out the backdoor today and I ran out underneath her feet. She just grunted and went to her car, where she spent an hour cleaning something in it. I wandered up and down our staircase and stalked some birds. Every now and then she would call me, and I would give my obligatory meow to her, but I wouldn't go near her. I don't like her car, and I can't trust her not to stuff me in it to take me somewhere.

My hair is changing color from all of the sunlight I'm getting in our new home. My human calls me "California Kitty" now. My highlights are coming out. I'm a pretty cat. "A pretty annoying cat," my human would say. She thinks she's so clever.

My human's sibling doesn't seem to know that my human has been keeping me on a dry crap diet. Yesterday she gave me salmon, beef, and bacon. It was delicious! Today I meowed and meowed at my human, but she said to me, "Your auntie may give you those things, but not me." Jerk.

I'm never going through that again

For the last month, I have been living in a place called "California." My human stuffed me into that new duffel bag looking carrier and took me on an airplane. I didn't enjoy that. It was noisy and cold, and I just wanted to go home. When we arrived in California, my human handed me off to her sibling and went back to Texas. Now, my human is back and she seems to be staying, as she's brought all of these things I remember from our place in Texas. I like the new place in California. It's bright and there are lots of windows where I can sit and watch birds. Mostly, I like to sleep in the new soft bed that my human's sibling bought for me. I also like to attack little objects on the floor and to be fed promptly.

I guess life isn't that different here.

Nobody likes trapped cats...

...except sadistic humans. My human has been acting strange lately. That's not unusual for her, but she's been moving boxes around. She bought a new black bag that looked like a regular human clothes bag. She left it on the living room floor and I could tell something was wrong. She tried to stuff me in there, but I refused. I ran underneath her bed and didn't come out for hours. She ignored me, and when I realized that, I had to go find her and sit next to her. She didn't try to stuff me in the bag again.

The next day, the black bag was still on the floor, but I didn't pay much attention to it. My human went off to work and came back ten hours later. I was waiting by the front door when she opened it. I was hungry and I just woke up from a nap. She picked me up and hugged me, like she was glad to see me. Then, she stuffed me in the black bag before I could resist. "Ha, ha, gotcha," she said. The jerk. She left me in there for ten minutes, trying to get me to stand up and turn around in it. What am I? A circus performer? Then she let me out and fed me. I guess it wasn't so bad.

The bag's still on the floor, though. What's going on?