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.
August 15th 2006 10:15 am
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I may be physically ill.
The cow has taken to the ridiculous expedient of bringing a "gift" to the human of a yellow toy mouse. For two days in a row, the bichrome buffoon has taken this toy--a toy he never plays with himself--and drops if off in front of the hairless biped. Yesterday he did it while the human was in that awful booth with the spraying water (have peeples no spit to clean themselves with?). Today it was while the human was sitting in his den (formerly my prison). I mean, pull-ease, does the cow really think that the human will now value him as his "mouse killer" because he picks his least favorite toy off the floor and gives it to him? Tricky, seductive cow cat! I know how he plots against me.
My wonderful red-colored springy tunnel-like things (with the dangly bluish puff-balls) are being co-opted by the moo cat. I mean these were MY playspaces that came home with me from PAWS! Now he plays in them all the time. I am not selfish (not as cats go), but this must stop. I have attacked the cow when he's in my wonderful red-colored springy tunnel-like things (with the dangly bluish puff-balls) on more than one occasion. He does not learn. Must I go medieaval on his black and white self before he learns that the wonderful red-colored springy tunnel-like things (with dangly bluish puff-balls) are MINE!
It is especially insufferable to see the human and Kitty Cow playing with the feathery-headed snakey thing on a a stick around the wonderful red-colored springy tunnel-like thing (with bluish dangly puff-balls). I move in to chase out the cow and play with the human myself. How exciting! This could be such a wonderful life if only it were the human and I. Go play in the highway, cow cat!
I am now eating regularly alongside the cow. It disturbed me earlier when he would eat kibble from MY dish. Now I have turned the tables. This morning the human gave the bichrome boor his dish o' kibble. Just as he started eating, I nudged in and took it from him. You should have seen the confusion and despair on his hideously masked face. It's as if someone had taken away his food. Ha ha! I did! Now he has no choice but to eat from my dish because I have denied him his. Now I only need to find a way to eat from both dishes simultaneously and in that way starve him out.
August 14th 2006 10:42 am
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I think the human may be plotting with the cow! He tends to take the moo kitty's side in all our skirmishes. I need an impartial referee who can surely see that I am in the right every time I go out of my way to swat and snarl at Kitty Cow. I am only acting preemptively to keep the insufferable boy cat in his place.
I know they plot when they think I am not looking, but I see that every morning at 3:00 AM, the bichrome monster and the ape conspire in the dark. The peeple pretends that he is humoring the moo cat and trying to get back to sleep. I am not fooled! The proof of the human's complicity in Grendel Cow Cat's crimes was seen only this morning. The biped was giving scratches--MY scratches--to the cow. I serenely came up to them and broke it up with a well-aimed attack on the black and white one's head. This should have met with the human's approval, but he reacted as though I had done some kind of unprovoked aggression. Harrumph! Can't he see that I am only protecting him from the disingenuous schemes of the big, dumb, boy cat?
It's now after 8:00 AM. The human has played with me a bit with the feathery-headed snakey thing on a stick. O bliss! I have thoroughly bitten, clawed, and disembowled the snakey thing. Yet somehow it still keeps popping to life. Perhaps it has more lives than a cat.
Now the peeple is off to the Land of Work. Outside on the veranda other peeples are at work with ladders, hammers, shovels, rakes, and implements of destruction. How fascinating! As the human departs, I (and that awful cow kitty) are oblivious as we watch through the Big Glass Door to Outside to ensure that the workmen make no mistakes. Adios, Mr. Peeple. While you're away reflect on your crimes and change your heart. You must know that I, not the cow cat, am your true companion. Let's cook him into a pie tonight. It would be tasty. I promise.
August 13th 2006 9:09 am
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I fear that my plan to have the human "86" the cow cat is falling apart. As I observe their interaction, I sense that--for some reason (who knows why)--the human actually likes the bovine kitty. I must change my tactics for now. Perhaps undermine things from the inside.
I am relatively free these days. The peeple has not locked me in the Room of Solitude since Thursday. This is good in one sense, though alarming in others. I once had private facilities; now I must share with Kitty Cow. We even eat together! Eating is still a joy, even though marred by having to listen to the gulps and smacks of that awful boy cat while I daintily consume my meal. Do you know how repulsive the sound of furry lips smacking is?
I am also bereft of a Place of Refuge. Though The Room of Solitude was my dungeon, it also kept the moo cat away from me. Now he has access 24/7. Can a woman have no privacy?
I have taught the bichrome monster to keep his distance. I have even decided that offense is the best defense. On Friday I was having a lovely sit down with the peeple when I spied the cow's reflection in the glass of a picture. He was up on the High Window Sill Above the Stairs, a place I am fond of going. Just to teach him who's boss, I got up from sitting with the ape, jumped up on the bannister and leapt across the stairwell to where the cow was. A brief snarl and a swat at the moo cat, and then back down to the upper landing. Hmmph! Take that, Kitty Cow. You'd better just mind your "Ps" and "Qs" from now on. This "unlimited access" thing works both ways. You can get at me, but I can get at you.
Since Friday, the cow and I have enetered into a form of detente. I spend much time in my safe corner of Underthebed, although I am also often to be found resting on the back of that lovely, soft couch downstairs. Too often the cow is resting just below me by the Big Glass Door to Outside. I often go to my former cell, where the peeple often sits and pokes a keyboard thingy. It must be his form of play.
I must endure this detente for now. The cow is always nearby, which is excrutiating. However, Nietsche said it best that "Whatever does not kill me makes me stronger." I feel the strength growing daily.
August 10th 2006 12:32 pm
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6:30 AM - Once again the human brings me a fine breakfast in my little room. Today it's Salmon and Trout. Oh sublime joy. I daintily consume this tasty meal and then curl up on the couch with the biped. Surely my affection can convince him that he is better off with me as his one and only kitty.
7:00 AM - I decide to go out and explore the house a bit more. Oh, that cow cat is there waiting! I come towards him with menace in my beautiful green eyes and he backs off--knowing what's good for him. He cowers down the hall from me. I go into where the human sleeps to make sure he's made the bed. (He hasn't. Slob.) To get there, I have to pass the moo cat. Head up, showing no intimidation, I waltz past showing him no regard except to say, "Loser. Hsssssss." He is fazed by my stinging rebuke and leaves me be.
Mr. Peeple has gone back to bed for a while. I imagine that putting up with Kitty Cow is exhausting. Let him rest. I will explore a while, though I must keep looking back over my shoulder to keep the bichrome monster at bay.
8:00 AM - Back upstairs, fending off the boorish cow cat all the way. A little "rrrowwwl," a few deft slashes and he gives up. This contretemps awakes the ape, who gets up and shuts me into my room. Oh yeah, like I'M the problem. Why can't he see the evil cow for what he really is--I mean, he wears a black mask, as if that weren't a dead giveaway to his dastardly nature!
8:30 AM - Leaving me the bare necessities of food and water, the peeple has gone off to Workland. I am once again imprisoned in my lonely cell. Fine. I will sleep, groom, rest a bit, doze a while, and plot to find a way to win the human to my cause.
Postscript: I have learned that even though I have been on Catster for two weeks less than the moo cat, I have been visited more often and received THREE rosettes to his NONE. Oh, sure, he has more treats (glutton), but that will just make him fatter.
August 9th 2006 12:40 pm
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Postscript to yesterday:
The human came home early yesterday to let me out of my prison. It's so unfair that Grendel Kitty Cow runs free, but I am locked up. Why can't my peeple put that two-toned, big-headed ogre in a small room for eight hours and let me roam at large?
I endure the moo cat and actually let him sit very near me on the window sill. He looks somewhat, hmmmm, "enraptured" is the best word, I guess. What's all that about? I glower at him menacingly for a while before saying, "Adios, loser" and heading downstairs.
Downstairs, I start to redecorate. Men! What goes through their minds? The place needs a woman's touch, so I start with some awful photo of his ancestors on the mantle. Having the image of those apes peering over the room is insufferable. I lithely jump up to the mantle to knock it down with a crash. The human gets quite excited about this, but it's for his own good. I'm not quite sure how I will tackle that large "modern art" piece over the sofa. I must work on it.
7:00 AM - Awakened by the aroma of Wellness Salmon and Shrimp Puree. Ahhh, the simple pleasures of life. After a delightful repast, I let the human know that I want out of my cell. I sniff under the door to locate the exact position of the cow. When the peeple obligingly opens the door, I rush out snarling and slashing. The moo cat is taken aback and I dash past him and down the stairs to the freedom of the house.
7:30 AM - After a bit of a scratch on the lovely scratching board (sharpening my claws for Kitty Cow), I explore a while and finally take a commanding place on the back of the sofa. The sofa's color harmonizes well with my beautiful tabby coat, so I am not dismayed by the ensemble. Thank goodness the ape didn't go in for primary colors.
The cow and the monkey are playing on the floor with that wonderful feathery-headed snake on a stick thing. The cow seems distracted--always looking at me (ick). But I find it hard to resist. Down off my perch, I dart after it and catch its feathered head in my sharp teeth. Take that, snakey thing! Again and again, I show my hunting prowess. This must make the moo cat think twice about eating me.
8:15 - After a while, it's back upstairs for a rest. The human is off to the Land of Work again and I am locked into the Room of Solitude. I will make the most of it. I can hear birds twittering outside and there is a large, lovely bed to sleep on or under. Food. Water. Facilities. It's all here. Wait; what's that under the door? Oh, yes. A pastey white paw. How lame. Must I endure this performance again?
August 8th 2006 11:11 am
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7:00 AM - I like my peeple. He brings me food and toys and scratches me just where it feels best. I give him head butts and kitty kisses to let him know that I intend to keep him. It's all he understands. I've tried talking to him, but he just doesn't grasp the meaning of "Meow." Last night when he came home form the Land of Work, we spent some time together away from the cow cat. Joy! He even let me out of confinement to roam the house, but that nasty boy kitty was always right there. I had to hiss and show him that I could scratch his yellow eyes out if he didn't back off. It was a nice time, but the big-headed, cow-colored, boy cat just got to be too much. I happily went back to Underthebed to ensconce myself in my little corner and dare him to come after me.
This morning was more play with the peeple. I was downstairs chasing after this feathery-headed snake thing on a stick. What fun! The moo cat was watching me enjoy myself with the human one. The long-tailed blotchy thing played in a bit, but it was clearly my time to shine. Soon I know I will supplant him in my peeple's heart and I will be queen of the castle.
8:30 AM - The person has gone off to the Land of Work leaving me locked away in my keep like Rapunzel. I don't like being locked in. I have a window high up, but I don't have long hair to let my rescuer climb in to free me--I don't even have a long tail! The cow wants to play under the door with me. He sticks his pastey white paw underneath and I meoowrrl and swat at it. He'd better be careful or he'll pull back a stump next time.
I must endure my isolation with a monster outside the door until the human comes back from Work Land. How long must this go on? Please, please, Mr. Peeple, show me you love me and bring me the head of Grendel the Cow Cat.
August 7th 2006 9:49 am
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6:30 AM - The human brought me kibble for breakfast. About time! After being out of the hole for a bit yesterday, I let him know I wanted back out in the world again. He cracked open the door and there was that big dumb moo cat again. He was all friendly-like, but I gave him a hiss and swat and ran past to my safe place: underthebed. No one can get me here--at least the biped seems to stay out. But that black and white Grendel thing got in. Hmmm. Maybe it's not so safe after all.
7:00 AM - I have acheived detante with the evil cow-colored kitty. I am in my corner of underthebed and he is in his. If he tries to come near, I display my formidable hissing talent. That keeps him at bay.
7:30 AM - I bluff my way past the moo cat and downstairs to explore. He knows enough to stay away, but he's just not far enough away. I find the human has many delightful toys. Surely they're being wasted on that long-tailed one. I play a bit, but the cow won't let me be. So, after a short play, I'm back to underthebed to get locked into the cold war with the cow.
8:30 AM - The biped has set me up with food, water, and a nice crunchy place to poo here in the room where underthebed is--and he's locked the monster cat out while he goes off to a faraway land called "Work." I must endure a day locked in with Grendel the monster outside the door. This is too hard. Where is my hero who will slay the monster?
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