Birthdays Are Weird

[Here I am, a martyr to a human's crappy idea of fun]

Ruru the Cat here.  I get that my person thinks I'm a little four-legged person in fur.  Sometimes, it's a good thing.  This week, she threw me what she calls a "birthday party."  Some of it was awesome.  Some of it, I'd pay a huge pile of person money to forget.

One thing my person thought was cute that day was to make me try her orange juice.  Just ew.  I don't get how it's a good idea, this orange stuff.  It's just nasty.  And BECAUSE she got that stuff I didn't want stuck to my fur, she gave me yet ANOTHER bath.  Haven't I made it clear baths are for people and dogs, not for superior life forms like cats?

And then, even worse, she and her cousins thought it would be hilarious to put me on a leash and take me for a walk around the house.  Seriously?  Do I LOOK like a dog?  And OF COURSE she had to then dress me in person clothes.  NOT a person.  See these claws?  See these adorable green eyes?  Pointy ears?  Fluffy body?  Yes, these are things that should prove I'm NOT even sort of a person.  I meow.  I'm not a dog, either.  Do I smell like a slobbery, shaggy, stupid dog?  No, I do not.

 [See that poop-looking stuff in the bowl in front of me?  It smelled WAY better than it looked.  It's a cat birthday cake.  You should try it sometime.  Minty tuna?  That's what heaven smells like.]  

But it wasn't all bad.  She made me what she called a birthday cake.  I've licked human-type cake.  This was something else.  It was shaped kind of like a mouse, but it tasted like catnip and milk and tuna all AT THE SAME TIME.  I couldn't quite figure out how to eat it until they crumbled it.  Then I just wanted to stick my face in it and absorb it.  That was bliss.

[That pink thingy looks silly but smells like a slice o' paradise.] 

But even better was this little home made toy that smelled like catnip.  I could spend hours just smelling it and licking it and showing it the love it deserves.  If only my brother would leave it alone for a moment, that is.  Maybe this birthday stuff isn't all bad.  Just wrap up the baths and orange juice and clothes and give them to somebody who wants them.  I'll take seventeen birthdays in a row if it means more mint.  Especially tuna mint.  Do cats know how to party or what?

My Person Is Eeeeeeevil

Ruru the Cat here.  Here I was, thinking my person wasn't half bad.  She's usually super sweet to me, snuggling me with my stuffed leopard and carrying me up and downstairs when I ask and hauling me around.  She protects me from that scary puppy.  She's just generally good to me.

But this week, she was seriously on something.  She gave me ANOTHER bath.  And she's constantly threatening to give me more because she likes to see me suffer, clearly.  

If she didn't want me to suffer, she wouldn't have made me the star in a fashion show.  Fashion, like clothes.  CATS DON'T DO CLOTHES.  Seriously.  At ALL.  EVER.  I don't do this: 

I really really don't do this: 

I definitely can't stand this one: 

This one is worse:  

What did I do to deserve a horrible week like this?  I'm such a sweet, innocent angel.  I promise.  

Drowning in People

                                                   (How my house felt this week)

Ruru the Cat here.  I like my quiet life.  I get up in the morning, usually laying next to my person to make sure she doesn't leave me.  I spend my day dodging most other people and waiting for my person to snuggle me or play with my ears.  If she ignores me for too long, I have to seek out love from someone else.  That bugs me, but even my wonderful person can't be perfect all the time.  Then she feeds me, tucks me in at night with my stuffed snow leopard, and we go to sleep.  I, of course, get bored and usually slip out to play with other cats.  It's a great life.

Until other people intrude.  This weekend, there was a whole house full of outsiders bringing in their funky smells, especially the funky dog and cat smells.  They tried to chase me down and play with me WITHOUT permission.  They wanted to haul me around.  And they weren't even my person.  It was a NIGHTMARE.  This is my house.  I did not let them in.  How do these outsiders keep creeping in and stealing my peace?  I like it quiet.  I like it when it's just me and my person and some spares to keep me company when my person is doing the wrong thing (not playing with me).  I'm the center of the world.  I should be able to set the rules.  And rule number one is EVERYBODY but my person, keep OUT!

Now, that's Funny

                                           (My whiny brother getting spoiled by his people)

Ruru the Cat here.  My poor brother had the scare of his life this week.  And it was hilarious to us indoor types.  His people took him in a kayak in their swimming pool.  He had to describe all this because I've never seen a kayak or a swimming pool.  Anyway, so his people had him in this boat on the water, and rather than just sitting there and thinking what a great thing it was he wasn't IN the water, he actually JUMPED in.  Oh, my crap.  Brothers are the best for entertainment value.  Oh, man.  He's chasing me away.  It's my freaking blog.  Okay, okay.  Here's Scoutie.

                                 (What it looked like to me: super scary!)

Ruru, seriously?  Quit laughing.  I mean it.  Just stop.  I see you snickering over there.  It was terrifying!  Last week, you made such a big deal about a little bath.  You have no idea.  That boat was little.  It kept rocking, and I was sure it was going to SINK!!!  It was so scary.  And the side of the water looked really close.  I thought I could just jump and get out of there.  Instead, I fell in.  And that water was deep and really really cold, like I was sure I was going to freeze to death or drown or both.  I swam for all I was worth, but I was getting nowhere.  There's a reason (or maybe five) that cats hate water.  Finally, after my people stopped laughing, they fished me out.  Why do my people keep doing this to me?  I'm a great cat.  I bring them plump, juicy prey to teach them how to hunt mice.  I patrol and keep their space cat-free (other than the awesomeness that is me.  How do they repay me?  They stick me in these crappy places that terrify me.  Anyway, that's it.  Any people listening, don't do this to poor, sweet cats like me.  Just sing our praises, feed us, and pet us.  That's all we want to be happy.  Okay, well, here's my sister.  She finally quit laughing. 

                 [My masterful artwork of the hilarious scene.]

Haha!   Ruru again.  Shows how much Scoutie knows.  I will never stop laughing about this.   He's so whiny about the littlest things.  Hey, Scoutie, stay away from me with that water.  Stop!  Oh, crap.  Now, I'm wet.  Man, brothers suck.   

Bath Tub No No

Ruru the Cat here.  I never understood my human's capacity for cruelty until this very week when she showed me what an evil place the bathtub can be.  Sometimes, I'll sit on the edge and drink water from a dish they put there just for me.  Sometimes, they'll make it even better by refilling it directly from their warm bath water.  Sometimes, they'll hold up a handful of yummy, warm water and let me sip.  Once, when I got accidentally locked in that room, I had to use that drainage hole as my person-like potty.  A bathtub has even been a nice, friendly space to play.  But this week, the bathtub became a source of the deepest, darkest evil because my person gave me [insert sinister and scary music here] A BATH!!!!  I know, I know.  You think it's not possible that a human as sweet as mine could be that cruel.  But if you don't believe me, watch that video of nightmarish horror above.  I swear it will give you nightmares for weeks, so don't watch it if you are scared easily.

Instead of taking pity on me, my person laughed and rejoiced [if you can believe that] that I said the human word "no."  Of course, I can talk.  I can say a lot of things.  It's just beneath me to make human speech except in extreme emergencies.  And if there's an extreme emergency, it's a bath.  My person tried to apologize later by drying me in a towel, but it was too late.  I have seen that my person has a dark, twisted soul.  A bath.  Seriously.

Later yet, she tried to make the bathtub pleasant by filling it with mint and throwing a kitty party.  Everyone but me hopped right in and played in the wall to wall mint.  Well, you know what? You won't catch me in that bathtub ever again.  Not ever.  Because I have been scarred for life.