Catster

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Human Amusement

The Male is Present

While I do not wish for my fans to infer that I intend to post these diaries on a regular basis, I thought it best if I divulge a few recent happenings.

The male human has returned to the house. This makes for a more pleasant day - and night - as he is infinitely more compatable than the company of the other felines alone. At last I am able to enjoy my evening massages on the male's side of the bed. I keep a watchful eye over him during the daylight hours, when he sits idly in front of the big glowing box for hours on end. I must ensure that nothing happens to him whilst he is thus engaged, lest I be stuck living with only the female for the rest of my life. The male feeds me in my preferred upstairs location, away from the stressful exchanges between the other felines in the kitchen. I can eat in peace, at least until Peeper invites herself into my personal space. Fortunately the male is aware of this habit of intrusion and chases her off.

I hope this journal entry satisfies your curiosity. Have a pleasantly quiet day.

This is so trendy.

The very idea of writing a diary detailing the mundane moments of my otherwise uneventful life is about as appealing as a banana sandwich. What is there to tell you?

My male human "companion" has been absent for extended revolutions of the night. This absence is disturbing. When he returns it seems that only hours pass before he is once again ransacking the bedroom and throwing textiles into the suitcase. Oh how I long for those sleepy afternoons, when I cast my spell upon him by curling up on his lap on the sofa and willing him to sleep. I also miss the night-times in which I curl up beside him. He is very well trained, and the female human is not a very good substitute. She spreads her attention too thin among the other felines of the house, making strange noises, singing, and frequently chasing us all off with various high-pitched household machinery. She seems particularly fond of - well - all of us.

I have taught her a few useful tricks. She understands when I tell her I need her to turn on the tap, or when I prefer to be fed upstairs, away from the other kibblemongers. If I choose to sleep with her, it is only after she has herself delved into the deepest REM she can manage, because she is incompetent at caressing and massaging me in the professional manner that the male exhibits. She has learned to interpret my "spooky dance" as an indication that I wish to play with the magical red glowing dot. And she is admittedly adept at combing my fur with just the right pressure to achieve a satisfying back-scratching.

I am the Jedi cat. I rule this household. I say the male should return and the female human can turn her attention wayward. After she teaches the male how to comb properly.