No More Kitty...Kitty...Kitty

I was reading again. How's this one?

I am tired of being a poem-object,
decorative accessory, conversation piece,
exterminator, security blanket: I am CAT!
Show me the law that ranks scribble above these,
the decree that keeps your dish on the table, mine on the floor.
From now on you will consider
my image not as befurred stereotype
but as we are: equals sharing
a single habitat for convenience.
As for those constant put-downs
(from your lap, for example;
into the cellar, for example)--
no way!
It is time we totally changed our relationship.
I will write the poems;
catch your own mice if you can.
Betty Lowry

Awful Day

I have had an awful day. I spilled my water, half a bowl full. You'd be surprised how much water that is when it's all over the bathroom floor. Then Mama wiped it up with two old towels. Then she stepped on my foot. I wasn't "under foot." I was just watching to see that she did it right. I ran and she ran after me saying she's sorry. She rubbed my foot to make if better.

Now I learned that my friend Alfie went to the Bridge last week. I didn't know.
I am sad tho I know he's with Wally and Sydney and our Molly and lots of other kitties.

Some days are just awful.

What I read today:

From the day he walks in, with his tail in the air,
He'll move into your heart and your favorite chair.
You can rely on a dog to come when you call,
A cat comes when he wants to, perhaps not at all.
He'll give you his love, he'll even catch mice,
But if you think you own him, you'd better thing twice.

Just in case you didn't already know this.

Happy New Year!

The Dialogue

Mama: I JUST sat down here.
Now I can get something done.
Uh, headbonks on my leg.

Honey: She just SAT DOWN there.
Now I can get her to pay attention to me.
First, headbonks on her leg.

Queen of 'Tude

I am having a wonderful day. It's just noon and I've had 6 bowls food (just a bit each time). I've banged on the cupboard doors 4 times to get her (the mama) to open them and let me see what's in them. I knocked over the glue, envelopes and a flower pot.

Then I knocked over my toy basket and scattered the toys all over looking for my old green ball. I found it, played with it a bit and got bored.

I have this way of looking up at her with my big beautiful golden eyes and she can't resist following me to wherever I want. I got her to comb me 3 times and turn on the faucet so I could drink from it.

She calls me a p-e-s-t, but I say I'm the Queen of Cattitude.

My Fleece Wand

Oh no! My dear fleece wand. I've had it for ages. It's my all time fave.

Do you know what that Mama of mine did to my fleece wand today?
She sucked it up in the noisy thingey (vacuum). My wand was just lying on the floor where I left it when along comes the noisy thingey and sucks it up all the way to the stick that it is fastened to. Poor wand.

Well, Mama shut off the noisy thingey and turned it over. She pulled the wand out, slowly and gently. She said, "See, Honey, it's okay."
She dusted it off and put it back in my stroller where I keep it usually.

Wheeoo! I'm glad that's over.

You have to keep your eye on these humans all the time.

I'm Better to Watch Than TV

I see you on the floor.
I crouch, my eyes dilate, my back end wiggles.
I pounce.
I've got you in my claws.
I hold you in my mouth and roll with you.
I kick you with my bunny feet.
I've got you - you slimy rubber band snake.

Blaaagh! You taste terrible.

I think I'll go back to being a refined old bed cat.

A Story

It was a dark and stormy night.
The dark and scaredy cat was hiding
behind the darkened TV.
A battery candle was flickering against the bare wall.
The human was reading a book by flash light.

Suddenly ...

I don't think this story is going anywhere.
I'll try again tomorrow.

Honey Hemingway

It's What for Breakfast

and lunch and dinner and in between. Purina is not making the food I like, Vitality for older cats, anymore. I started on the food for older cats before I turned seven so I would get adjusted. Well, I'm adjusted to it, I LIKE it and now they don't make it anymore. What's a cat to do?

Mama bought the next level of cat food, supposedly for cats of all ages, and is mixing it with the last bag of the food for older cats. She thinks I can't tell the difference. I ask you again, what's a cat to do? I have to eat!

Ah well, I'm adjusting to the new food.

I had some bits of oatmeal cookie and a few licks of tapioca to make me feel better about the "food thing." I think it was a bribe. I'm not above accepting a bribe now and then.

Myeah

I don't "meow" much. In fact, I don't say "meow."

I let out a short "meh" often, like "meh, meh, meh." Sometimes, it's "maa" or longer "maa-aa." Then there's my favorite that goes like "may-oh"

My Mama wants me to say "myeah." She says "Do you want to eat?" and I'm supposed to go "myeah." "Do you want a treat?" "Myeah." "Want your box cleaned?" "Myeah." Get it?

Maybe someday I'll humor Mama and say "myeah." For now it's "meh, meh, meh."