The jungle gym is back!

Ruru the Cat here.  Last year, I talked all about this most awesome thing that appeared in my house.  I mean, it was so COOL.  It was big and green and kind of looked like a tree but didn't smell like one.  But it was all covered in these fun shiny things that shook when you attacked them and then flew off in all directions if you swiped at them them hard enough.  Well, guess what?  It's back!  I don't understand why it disappeared to begin with, and I certainly don't know why it's suddenly here again.  People don't really make sense most of the time.

But regardless of why it's back, it is here, and it is so much fun!  The very first thing I did when it showed up was to climb up to the very top just to show that I could.  At first, it didn't have anything on it.  It was just there for hours and hours, all night and into the next day.  Then these glittery balls and strings and toys started appearing all over it.  I had to be patient and wait until people walked away to attack.  And then I had some competition because all the other cats in the house want to climb it, too.  I saw my people watching a video that looked kind of like me and what I want to do with the tree.  They laughed the whole time, but they don't seem to think it's so funny when I make stuff fly off in the same way:  video of my fantasy.  For any cats reading this, I highly recommend you talk your people into getting one of these things.  I wonder what it would take to get my people to keep it here forever.

The REAL Way to Act like a Cat

This is Ruru the Cat here, and I refuse to let my sister, Baby, guest blog.  She wants to tell you...

                                                    (Doesn't Baby even look snotty?)
                                 (No, I look FABULOUS and self-assured.)
                                                 
Okay, little humans of the world.  This is Baby, the only cat around here who knows how to really act like a cat.  All that crap Ruru filled you with last week?  It's all mouse droppings.  That's not how a proper cat behaves.  Let me give you some evidence she doesn't know what she's talking about:

                                                        (Me, being adored and loved.)
                         (Correction, Ruru looking sycophantic and misused.)


1. She lets people [especially her human] do whatever they want to her, whenever they want. Really?  It's an embarrassment. Seriously, a cat decides how and when and if she should be touched.  The cat is in charge and sets the rules.  If a cat [say, me, for instance] only wants to be touched for ten seconds to ten minutes once a day, first thing in the morning when said human is not fully awake yet then will attack any hand that dares touch the cat's fur outside that arbitrary and self-chosen time frame, that is a cat's prerogative.  Cats are queens.  Humans are staff, living at the mercy and whim of the cat.  Clueless, little Ruru hasn't figured this out yet. Humans don't yet understand they have been conquered by the great and mighty feline and are owned body and soul.  

             (Me, coincidentally sitting somewhere near the puppy.)
              (Ruru kissing up to that stupid mutt.)

2. She likes the dog.  I mean, really.  Letting humans take untoward liberties is one thing.  But while she's writing here on this blog about how much she can't stand that stupid puppy, she's secretly snuggling and licking the dog and sharing her food with it.  It's just not right.  Dogs are unworthy to be noticed, let alone played with.  They can't even catch mice.  Little Ruru.  Pathetic little sister.  I've told you before.  This is not how a cat behaves. 

Whew.  I finally got my computer back.  Don't mind baby.  She thinks she rules the house.  Don't tell her we call her Queen Beast behind her back.  

I heard that!  You will pay for ... 

I think you've heard just about enough from her.  Please disregard my sister.  She just doesn't get it.  There's nothing so nice as being loved by a person.  Nothing at all.  And puppies aren't so bad.  You just have to get to know them.   

     (Me and my annoying sister, in case you're getting confused as to which is which.  The marble tabby with the gray background is Baby.  The marble tabby with the brown background is me.  See?  Huge difference.  Besides, we smell different.  That should help clarify everything.)

Poor Scoutie

                                            [Me being sympathetic to my brother, Scoutie]

Ruru the Cat here.  So Scoutie, my brother, has been super excited about his family moving nearby.   He's missed them so much since they've been living in a place where they couldn't keep him for about a year.  But now we heard his family is moving nearby, all that whiner could do all day long was stare at the door and long for his people.  He kept going on and on and on about how he wanted to be held by them and snuggled by them and fed by them all day long.  He likes my people.  He probably even loves them.  But it's just not the same.  They're not his people.  

Now, his people have moved nearby.  He was so happy to be held by them all the time, passed from one family member to another.  Until they took him away from us, his kitty buddies.  And put him in a smaller space. And then he became an even LOUDER whiner.  He whines when he comes for a visit because he misses them, and he whines for us when he's stuck over there.  Some days, I feel bad for my brother.  I try to lick and snuggle him better because that's what cats do.  Other days, I just want to tease him because he's acting like a kitten.  A teensie weensie baby kitten.    

 

[Me showing an example of how to put up with your people's crap, whether you like it or not.] 

He's got his people back!  That has to count for something.  When my person comes back from a long day away, first, I act like I want nothing to do with her because that's what cats do.  Otherwise, we're in danger of losing our cat badge.  Only dogs stand at the door, waiting for their person.  Then I let her snuggle me.  That's it.  I don't whine when she holds me too tightly or sticks me in a room where I don't want to be.  She's my person.  She can flip me upside down and put bows on my butt.  She's my person.  That's all that matters. Scoutie waits like a dog by the door and snuggles them when it's easy, but as soon as they stick him in a small, unfamiliar space, he complains.  I want to shake that cat.  His people are his people.  There are cat guidelines for this.  You're loyal to your person, but you don't act loyal.  No standing by doors and no whining when you have your people again.  What does it take to teach a cat how to be a cat?  

                [Me, showing you a blackmail shot of my brother.  See?  He's such a baby!] 

Catnip!

[Catnip, glorious catnip!]

Ruru the Cat here.  My person pet is awesome.  Just so very awesome.  She did this thing so outstanding, so cat-like in its awesomeness, that I can't even describe it, but I will try.  So she said something about a science fair.  Whatever.  Then she put dry catnip on one side of the bath tub and fresh garden mint on the other side of the tub to see which we'd pounce on first.  Wow!  Talk about a slice of heaven!  I went right for that overpoweringly wonderfully awesome fresh mint.  At least two of the other cats did the same thing because they're smart.  Not sure what Baby was thinking in going for the catnip first.  I mean, that mint smelled stronger than anything else in the universe.  What bliss!  I'm not surprised that chicken cat, Maia, ran away rather than running to either end of the tub.

                                                           [Post catmageddon]

Anyway, then to show just how outstandingly perfect my person is, she left BOTH THE CATNIP AND THE MINT in that tub for a while, a long while.  It was paradise!  Bliss, I tell you.  We cats went nuts, playing with, chewing on, rolling in that mint AND catnip.  Wow!  What a day!  I don't even care why she did it nor do I know what this science fair stuff is.  But I wonder if we can do that again every day.