Fidget Spinners Are Stupid

Ruru the Cat here.  I thought about whining about how someone tripped on my paw last night, and now I've been limping all day.  But I don't want to think about it.  I'd rather sleep it off.  

What really bugs me is that my person busted out this really cool looking thing that goes around and around and around.  I tried to attack and kill it because it was moving.  Anything small that moves is yummy, right?  

No!  Not right!  I tried to bite it, and it flipped me in the face.  I tried to paw it, and it flipped me in the paw.  My person thought it was hilarious.  She laughed every time I attacked the thing and got slapped.  So I stopped attacking it.  

But then my person brought it CLOSER.  The demonic thing tormented me with its movement, taunting me and daring me to attack it again.  I still sat back, refusing with all my will power.  

Then she stuck it in my face, flapping it across my whiskers, so I HAD to attack it.  Had to.  It's what cats do.  But then it flipped me AGAIN.  I don't get why people find these crazy things interesting and how my person can be so cruel.  Humans are mean by nature, creating these cool things that attack back.  I'll be over here, licking the paw that got stepped on AND the one attacked by that stupid person toy.  And pondering mean thoughts at anyone who would think these things even make sense.  

All in My Perspective

Awesome Me, All Alone

Ruru the Cat here.  My person left for three whole days.  Three days!  I guessed it was going to happen when I saw the heaping bowls of cat food, when I saw the people gathering bags of things and taking them out of the house.  

But then she left, really left me.  I was all alone.  Except for the other cats.  And the snakes and lizards and stuff.  Oh, and people.  My person's cousins wandered around and petted me.  They held me, dragged me around, gave me love, and more importantly, food.  But it wasn't the right kind of love, and the food didn't taste right because it wasn't from her.   

Hey, hey.  That's my keyboard.  Keep your dog cooties away!

                                                                            Izzy

My name is Izzy.  Remember me?  I'm the dog.  Well, the real dog.  The other one is my chew toy.  I like my chew toy.  He yips and jumps around and plays with me.  But he's not a real dog.  Wait.  What was I saying?  Oh, right.  My people left me, too, but they left me far from home.  Ruru thinks it's bad to be alone at home without her person.  I watched my person walk away from me and leave me in a house.  A big house with food and water and people who snuggled me and played with me and gave me treats and let me run outside and gave me treats and more treats and...wait.  Where was I going?  Oh, yeah.  My person walked away. And I didn't like it at all.  I barked and barked and barked and barked for her to come back.  But she didn't.  She just kept walking and leaving me with these people who spoiled me and snuggled me and hugged me and treated me like a princess.  Wait.  That didn't come out right.  It was bad.  Really bad that my person left me for days and days and days and it was horrible.  Except the part about the treats and snuggles and hugs and spoiling.  

You know what?  You seem to think you've been through something bad, but none of that sounds bad at all.  Not even sort of.  You don't even like my person very much.  You have a different person.  Your person isn't awesome like my person, so when your person leaves you, it's not that bad.  Okay, Izzy's chew toy.  You're over there jumping around and acting like you need attention.  What, Dodger, did you suffer over those three days, too?  

No, it was great!  

Not this again! 

                                                                              Dodger

It was really really great.  We went camping again. I had my person the whole time for nights and nights.  No cats or annoying big dogs.  One, maybe, but it was mostly me and my person.  There was one weird night where it got darker and darker and darker and then lighter like really fast.  Weird night.  But it was really great 'cuz I got snuggled by my person.  I buried most of the food she tried to offer me 'cuz I didn't want it.  Except the bacon 'cuz Izzy wasn't nearby to steal it.  But my person was there, and that's what was important.  They kept talking about this thing called an eclipse, and it sounded like a big thing.  My person left me to go toward scary falling water, and I wouldn't even follow her because of the scary falling water.  I wonder if that's an eclipse.  But other than the water fall, eclipse or whatever people call it, it was a great trip.  Oh, and sometimes, my person walked away for an hour or two and left me on a leash and didn't snuggle me all the time.  But she came back for me, and it was great.  

Once again, thank you for telling us absolutely nothing about what camping is.  Just that it was great.  All this talk about eclipses and falling water and whatever.  So one dog tells me nothing, and one dog tells me even less.  Man, dogs are useless.  

People and Their Weird Stuff

Ruru the Cat here.  People are always shoving goofy things in my face as if I'm supposed to find them interesting.  Seriously.  All I want is snuggles.  And food.  Lots of food.  Is that too much to ask?  Instead, people are doing these weird things to me.   There's only one stuffed something I want in my face, and that's the one above.

Not this one: 

Definitely not this one: 

And this bizarre flashy one is right out: 

My people also think it's funny to stick me in a hat.  

It's not.  See that smothered furry thing at the bottom?  That's me.  Not happy.  Better a hat, though, than this number: 

Or worse yet, this one: 

Tape=suck.  Lots of suck.  If you pull this crap on me, I'll hide here: 

Or maybe here: 

I'll be tired, but at least I'll be safe.  And you'll never find me.  Consider yourself warned, crazy person.  

Camping? What's That?

Ruru the Cat here.  Last week, the really dumb hairball my people seem to think is a dog begged me ALL WEEK long to share his outdoor adventure.  See, I don't think he can string three words together, so don't expect much.  Izzy, the monster dog I still don't like but tolerate, at least owns a brain cell.  This thing my people call a Pomeranian seems to be little more than a grumpy throw rug.  But I'd rather get him off my back, so here he goes:

Wow!  Wowowowowow!  Ruru let me say stuff.  I wanted to say stuff, and she finally said yes.  I'm so happy!  My person did an amazing amazing amazing thing!  What was I saying?  

Seriously?  You wanted to talk about your camping trip.  People out there, I warned you.  Dodger's not the sharpest bulb in the box.  Even as dogs go.  Camping trip.  Dodger, tell us about that stupid camping trip of yours.  Whatever a camping trip is.  

Yes!  It was great!  I got to ride on my person's lap in the car, and it was great!  And I got to follow my person into a camping housy like thingy.  And then I got to sleep by her ALL NIGHT LONG.  And she took me for a walk in the middle of trees!  Everything was great!  It was really really great.  What was I saying?

Well, thank you, Dodger, for enlightening us about absolutely nothing.  I get the feeling you did something outside, and it was great.  

Yeah, great.  It was great.  

I still don't understand what camping is or how it was great or...anything.  But at least Dodger is going to shut up.  

Did I tell you it was great?  I got to smell my person all night long.  And it was...

Great.  Yes.  We know.  Thank you, truly inspiring.  Teach me to trust a dog to do or say anything.