August 25th 2006 10:51 am
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I'm sure that the cow cat is growing to fear me. My domination of the household may soon be complete.
I play with the cow these days. More for my amusement at seeing him cower submissively--even if in play--than to give him any idea that I like him. Even though we play, I think the big, dumb brute is afraid that at any moment I will go from my kind, playful demenor to a raging hellcat--a stubby-tailed personification of the Egyptian goddess Bast the Devourer. What fun!
I have taken over ownership of the human's bed. I snuggle up with him at bedtime and before too long, I am comfortably stretched out in the center of the bed, while the biped is clinging onto an edge in danger of falling out. It's very nice, but I don't like that when he's asleep, he stops paying attention to me. I have to head-butt him and rub my cheeks against his hands in order to wake him up and have him fawn over me. Who's queen, Mr. Peeple?
The cow is still ruining things each morning and I let him know my displeasure when we wind up getting fed just before we starve at 7:00 AM. The human once again ejected the cow--this time at 4:30 AM--because he kept fooling with things to attract the human's attention and we had to wait until late before he fed us. It's too bad that Kitty Cow doesn't have my sweetness. He can only rely on the nuisance factor for getting what he wants, meowing all the time, following the biped around, chewing the plants. Ha! I know I run things now. The peeple delights in my presence because I grace him with it only when I want, never when he wants. He can refuse me nothing. I may be half the size of Grendel the cow cat, but I'm twice the kitty!
August 21st 2006 12:58 pm
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The human has suggested that I am learning bad habits from Grendel. AS IF! I am merely showing more of my wonderful personality as I feel the ape merits it. This morning I showed him that I can do the Paw Under The Door trick even better than the cow cat. Plus, I have a beautiful tabby paw with white marbling--not a pasty white mit like Kitty Cow.
What prompted this deft display of my skill was the human locking us out of the room at 5:30 AM. The moo cat was up to his usual juvenile annoyances, and when he started to fool with the human's new plant (a sore point with the monkey, apparently), the biped got out of bed, hustled that big-headed boy kitty out of the room, and shut the door. Tragically, I was outside the room at the time and got caught in the general rout--though I was thoroughly innocent of any wrongdoing. After too long a wait for breakfast (7:00!!!!), I took the opportunity to beguile the human with my own paw tricks. Of course, when the human saw that it was my dainty, colorful paw under the door, he opened it wide and promptly fed us. Thanks, Grendel Cow Kitty for being the reason we nearly starved to death. Fortunately for you, I can move the ape to action where you fail.
Getting second breakfast this morning was also up to me. The two-legged sloth had gone back to bed after first breakfast was served, so I had to go up and snuggle a while with his lumpy recumbent self in order to persuade him that it was time to get up for good. After wetting himself in that absurd booth, he came forth with the kibble. Mmmm.
I am showing the human--and the cow cat--more of my adeptness at catching the feathery-headed snakey thing on a stick. The human tries working with the cow, but except for a few rare acrobatics, the moo cat is pretty useless. It's then that I can show my prowess and strike at the fiendish thing. Unlike the bovine-colored one, I don't have the long, drawn-out wind up that involves backing up three feet before striking--a sure way of telegraphing your moves. I lunge unexpectedly from any position. This ensures the element of surprise. After a good kill, I take the snakey thing back to my lair in Underthebed or into the depths of the red-colored, springy, wool-lined tunnel thingy (with bluish dangly puff-balls). I often have to tug at it a while because the human stupidly fails to let go of the stick part. Human buffonery is amusing but scarey. They can manage to feed us because we keep meowing the instructions to them as they prepare the meals; but how do they manage to feed themselves?
The cow has also been remiss in rowsing the human at 3:00 AM. For some reason, he has decided that this is not to be done any longer. I think it's because he's too lazy, myself. I had to do the job this morning. I think it rather surprised the biped to see my beautiful face nudging him awake rather than the cow cat's big, masked melon.
Postscript: The kiss
In regard to the human's uninvited, intrusive scribbling from last week, let me quote Bill the Cat: "Ack! Gag! Barf! Thbbbt!"
The cow is deplorable, but he has his uses, which is why I tolerate him as I do (he still has both eyes, doesn't he?). Monday afternoon when the ape interrupted us, the moo cat was merely helping me remove a bit of grit, perhaps kitty litter, from my eye. When he was finished I curtly dismissed him with a snarl. How the clueless biped can interpret this as "lovey dovey" (!) is beyond my understanding.
August 16th 2006 12:05 pm
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[This is the human making surreptitious notes in Grendel's and Rhiannon's diaries. Please excuse any spelling errors. The cats normally edit my work--Rhiannon is especially good at pointing out grammatical errors--but I am not passing this by them before I post.]
Yesterday when I came home from work, Grendel wasn't meowing at the top of the first stairs (from the entrance to the main floor) to greet me, as he normally is. I went further up to the second floor and found Grendel and Rhiannon at the top of those stairs touching noses in kitty-kiss fashion. It didn't last long after I appeared. When Rhiannon saw me, she backed away and made a growling noise at Grendel. Grendel, for his part, gave me the same look I once gave my college roommate when he walked in on me and my girlfriend in a no-third-parties-welcome situation. This gives me the feeling that despite what they record in their diaries, there may be more to what's going on than we know.
Of course I have no idea what the furry munchkins are up to while I'm away or asleep (unless they wake me). I usually just do a quick damage estimate when I come home or get up in the morning and assume from what I see that it's been a good or bad time for them. For all I know, their behavior when I'm looking is likely to be a ruse covering up the most torrid (and disturbing) love affair since Bill and Monica.
Grendel has always seemed eager to be friendly with Rhiannon. However, since day one, Rhiannon has been hostile to him. This situation made it necessary to isolate Rhiannon and introduce her slowly to life with a cow cat twice her size. She's a little pixie weighing about 7 pounds. Grendel is 17 pounds with very little fat--just a big, burly kitty. Now, with Rhiannon being out and about the house all the time, she seems to be alternately nervous around him or goes out of her way to be hostile.
Grendel is very even tempered--except for the "madness" that tends to overcome most younger indoor cats every other day or so. He doesn't startle easily. The vacuum is fascinating to him; he's right with me all through the house watching about a foot away. Rhiannon is more skittish. The vacuum terrifies her--as does the coffee grinder, closing the sliding glass door, any sudden movement, noises from outside, etc. Her reaction to most of these things is to run.
Grendel has no petting aggression. I haven't tried my theory out, but I suspect that I could hold him up by the tail and stroke his fur backwards with nary a murmer from him--he may even purr. Rhiannon likes being petted, but has limits. Pet her too long and I get a protest; persist and she makes like my hand is Grendel's head. Also, don't touch her wee, stubby tail!
Grendel is mostly oblivious to houseguests. He doesn't shy from them, but won't try to approach them either. He'll always be in the same room with them (because I'm there) and will sometimes play if someone tries to play with him, but mostly he just doesn't care. Rhiannon doesn't like me having guests in the house at all. She stays up under my bed until they're gone.
Grendel tends to follow me wherever I am in the house. If he's asleep in a room with me and I leave to go to another part of the house, he appears there after a while with an accusatory "meow" because I abandoned him. Rhiannon just finds the place where's she comfiest and stays there and pays no heed to me one way or the other. She is often affectionate with me, but otherwise standoffish--more typically "cat-like" than Grendel. She likes the safety of hiding under my bed, but will often come out to lay on top of a couch wherever Grendel and I happen to be.
Grendel is very vocal. He has nearly a bazillion variations on "mew" and "meow" and uses them all, often. He has a plaintive, almost silent "mew" at one end as well as a loud, rollicking, gutteral "meooowowoorr" at the other. These mean who knows what. There seems to be something he wants from me at all times--unless his plan is to just keep me on edge thinking that I'm a total pratt at being a cat owner because I am obviously deficient in understanding what he needs. Rhiannon rarely speaks--except when she is growling at Grendel.
Two very opposite cats may very well find lovey-dovey. Thank goodness they're both fixed. Since I doubted that either would mention the kissing incident, I thought I would supply this news, with a few other details about them, so we would all better understanding their rambling diaries.