Worse than Kittens

[Annoying visitors.]

Ruru the Cat here. Yeah, turns out there's something worse than visiting kittens. That's visiting puppies. Our neighbors like to bring some over here. I'm glad, like the kittens, those stupid puppies are temporary visitors. But still. One of them, at least, is little. Little but fast, enthusiastic, and all about stealing my people. It's hard to dodge something that moves that fast. 

[Much Worse: Another Yeti.]

It got much worse when the puppy was a zillion times bigger than me, a yeti like our former neighbors had. Those things are MONSTERS. The puppies are all about introducing themselves by sniffing your butt. Nothing says scary like a monster sniffing your rear end. They don't seem to understand a cat's butt noodle is sacred and should NOT be sniffed. They also fill every room they're in. And leave hair and smells EVERYWHERE. 

[Really Annoying. Even to Bean.]

If your resident annoying dog-shaped furniture (Bean) finds visiting dogs annoying, then, you know they have to be annoying.  I'm just glad I can hide in my room (the one my people believe to be theirs) and not have to deal with them much. But not much is still SOME. Honestly, humans, leave the monsters at the door. Or, better yet, far from it. 

Monsters!

 

[Monsters!]

Ruru the Cat here. Whew, The monsters are gone. I didn't even tell you they were here, and now, they're gone. I just couldn't handle the trauma of having those monsters around. That's right. My foolish people brought home more kittens. I'm just glad there were only two. In the past, my people would sometimes bring home four or five or six. Seriously. Where is that kitten factory, and how can we burn it down?

[No! It's in my house!]

I didn't have to see them that often because I hid in my people's room. At night, when I wasn't in there, the kittens were locked away in a separate room. Still, I could SMELL them. Their smells were everywhere. And I had to face them only once or twice. Which is once or twice too many. 

[The proper reaction to one of the monsters.]

The smart cats in my house had the same reaction I did: why are these little beasts in my house? Most of them reacted that way. Even though I don't like the other cats in my house, at least they're smart enough to know how to react to an invader. 

[Not a proper response to the monsters.]

Meanwhile, the youngest among us at first gave that proper response.  But she actually warmed up to them. She BOOPED herself on one of them. Who does that? They can attack you, crawl on you, decide to move in! Making friends with monsters is a dangerous business. I tried it at least once, then we got stuck with that kitten. Friends don't let friends make friends with kittens. Just say no to kittens. Now, they'll be in my nightmares for weeks. 

The Things that Should Be Mine

 

[Me with MY toy mouse.]

Ruru the Cat here. Okay. Let's remember whose house this is. My people seem to think it's their house, which means they can choose to share it with whomever they want. As I said before, they've let all sorts of random animals in here. Cats and dogs. Worse yet, kittens and puppies. Bunnies. Fish. Guinea pigs. Rats. Lizards. Snakes. A baby goat. Not kidding. My humans take lots of liberties with my house. But we must remember whose house it is. If an awesome gift comes into my house, like the toy mouse above, it should be mine. 

[An upstart Wren with one of my toys.]

That means toys that come in my house should be all mine. Not Wren's, not Varya's, not Dude's, not any of the other seven cats' toy. It's mine. Here, my people show a total disregard for that. They let this upstart play with MY toy mouse. This happens a lot. 

[I don't want this one.]

Okay, so there are exceptions. This one with glowing eyes and sharp teeth is NOT my toy. I don't want it. Varya can have this one. It's too creepy. I just don't see anything good can come from sharp-toothed toys. I think I'd have nightmares. 

[Varya eating my snacks.] 

The snacks should be mine, too. I don't often want popcorn like this. But I do want the bread and all cat treats and the fishie crackers. I was here (almost) first. Maya doesn't count. She's too grumpy and isn't me. And we can ignore the fact that Chonk, my brother, got brought in three days before I was. I am and always have been more important. But it should be my choice whether I want the snacks. Varya shouldn't--but often does--get first pick of the snacks. I'M supposed to be the one who gets to jump on the table and fish in the fishie cracker box, not Varya. 

[See that toy I had above? Note how a few minutes later, it was stolen by Dude.]

But here we are in a sad world wherein I don't get all the toys and the snacks because I have to hide in a bedroom to avoid getting beat up on. What a sad, sorry world you unfortunate souls live in where you don't get to see me in all of my glory. You are stuck with only photos of me. Oh, and you only have lesser cats, less than me because aren't they all? Giving them the toys that should go to me. This world is just not fair, for you or for me. But especially for me. 

My Red Dot

[I could see a red dot there.]

 

Ruru the Cat here. So one of my people offered the red dot just to me. So I was just SURE I was going to get it. It was all mine. I could see it. I grabbed for it! It was right there between my paws!  Still, it got away. 

[Me, masterfully chasing the dot.]

I don't understand. If all the other cats went for it, I could understand how it slipped through my paws. But I'm a pretty good hunter. I've killed a lot of mice over my life. One time, I got one and put it under one of my people's sheets. Yeah, I was pretty proud that she slept there for days, unable to figure out where the smell of dead mouse was coming from. That was quite the amazing gift I left. And it kept on giving. 

[Where'd it go?]

So I know I'm good at what I do. And I have this room all to myself. There was no reason this red dot could possibly have escaped. Yet it did! I'm so confused. You can't even see the dot in these pictures. So I guess it escaped you, too. Dangit. Next time, red dot. Next time. 

Where'd He Go?

 

[My friend, Dodger.]

Ruru the Cat here. It's no secret I don't love dogs. Or cats. Or anyone with fewer than two hands eager to pet me. But Dodger was different. He was actually NICE. He mostly made for great body heat and a fine piece of furniture. He's been around as long as I can remember, just being there. He'd stand by and let me eat his food. He'd let me sit on him if I was cold. He was just nice. To me. Which is kind of weird because most of the four-legged beasts around here chase me around, attack my tail just for kicks, or push me away to steal my dog food. But Dodger didn't. 

[Dodger put up with a lot.]

He was strong and happy for a long time. He gave the people around me puppies, three living ones and one that wasn't. He even tolerated their insanity when they were jumping all over him and chewing on them. He'd growl at them to say back off, but then, he'd pretend not to notice when they played with his tail. They all kind of look like him if you squint the right way. 

[Dodger put up with Bean.]

He even tolerated Bean. And that's kind of a big deal because that eternal puppy is a little monster. All of the cats, even the ones a lot bigger than him, kind of let him have his way. We even sneak around him when it comes to getting love from our favorite person. Dodger and Bean would often fight over the food or...I don't know. Dog things. Not sure what all that growling was about. But Dodger was even nice to the mini monster named Bean. 

[Dodger endured a lineup of kittens.]

And kittens. He put up with those little beasts as well. I sure wouldn't, but he did. He really brought it on himself, I guess, by not putting them in their place. They could climb all over him, and he just took it. Everyone seemed to love him because he loved everyone, including people I can't stand, the notorious strangers. Even when those strangers are toddlers. 

[He had to be hauled around.]

Three or four years ago, my people started saying Dodger was dying. But they got that crazy idea from the demon called the vet, so I didn't trust it. He was fine. He was just there. Then, one day, something was wrong. He didn't seem to want to eat. I would have gotten more food except the other cats got to it first. Two and a half weeks, ago, he stopped being able to climb or even walk well. He started to stumble. Then, he stopped being able to do anything but be hauled around. 

[He stopped responding.]

Then, he was only breathing and staring out into space. Then, he was gone. I checked. I sat on him. He was hard and had no body heat, even under the blanket. Then, my people talked about putting him in the ground. I can't imagine that would be very pleasant at all. I don't like to go outside. I certainly wouldn't like to be under the cold, snowy ground. And he hasn't come back. The dogs always go out, but they always come back. The kittens would go out and not come back, but I always heard they'd found a new place to be. I've heard the word "death," mostly about animals I didn't care about. Or my people's little human kitten, their baby, but that was long before I joined them. The humans sure seem to produce a lot of tears about this kind of thing, including for Dodger. But this is the first time it has become real to me. I guess he's really not coming back. I'm not sure how to feel about that. So I guess I'll go and take a nap. 

Can I Kill It?

 

[Not another danger noodle.]

Ruru: Ruru the cat here. So my people showed me yet another living noodle. I thought my people already had two of those. Why would they need ANOTHER snake when they have me? People just don't get it. I hear they feed these things rats or mice or something. Come on. Priorities. I'm here. I like rats and mice. Why give those to the wrong party when I'm here? 

[Looks edible.]

Hey, people, that thing you're showing me? Snuggles, is it? Can I have him? No? Okay, can I just play with him a little? He's small, smaller than me. You could leave him with me. I'll babysit. We could become best friends even. I'll take care of him. Then he won't be your problem anymore. You won't have to feed him...or me. At least for tonight. Seems like a good plan, a fun plan. Just let me take him off your hands. 

[Um...no]

Snuggles the Snake: That thing over there? I don't like it. It'sss ssscary. I like to eat sssmall, fluffy things. That thing is fluffy but not sssmall. And it hasss claws and teeth. I don't know what it isss, but keep me far, far away from it. 

[Mine]

Ruru: Seriously? You're taking his side? That ain't right, people. I've been your friend for years. And you don't trust me to take extra good care of that living string? I promise I won't kill it. Much. Only a little. I'll leave it almost as good as I found it. Sort of. If you're not going to give me his rats, the least you could do is leave us alone to play. 

[Look at me, innocent as the day is long.]

Fine. Be that way. I'll just watch. And wait. And watch closely. Can I get closer? Can I watch with my claws? Dangit, where are you going with that thing? Bring it back! It's mine! I claimed it. Gah. You owe me. I'd better get a really good Christmas present. Like a snake. 

My Jungle Gym's Guard

[Oh, for the day when the tree was mine.]

Ruru the Cat here. I used to own the tree as my personal jungle gym. I could protect it from all those who would challenge me. I could climb all over in the tree and knock off everything. They'd put it all back, and I could start over. The fragile stuff would shatter. It was very satisfying. 

[Not fair.]

Well, then other kittens then cats started muscling in on my jungle gym. They'd attack it and knock off MY ornaments. They'd kill MY tinsel and garlands. All I could do was try to attack them until they got too big. Then, I could only stand by and watch it happen. 

[Someone claimed my jungle gym.]

Then, a couple of years ago, a huge monster bigger than us all put together showed up and claimed the tree. He started out a kitten I could knock around. But then, he grew to the size of a panther and decided the tree was all his. Now, he stands guard by the tree (and sometimes in my tree) to make it clear none of the rest of us can touch it. Some of the others have managed to sneak by but not me. I've given up. 

[The big lug being shown he's not the biggest or the strongest.]

But my person showed him recently that he's not as big and strong as he thinks he is. She flipped him and held him as he growled and hissed. It was very satisfying, though I was also jealous at the same time. She's my person, not his. But this gave me hope that one of these days, I will get my tree back. I just have to be patient and stalk it. It will be mine again. Eventually.