Humbug

[My jungle gym.  Mine.  No touchy.] 

Ruru the Cat here.  Yeah, so there are some good things about Christmas.  Mostly, my lovely tree jungle gym.  Meat like turkey and ham that we sometimes get. 

[Pure awesomeness.  The only possibly good reason Christmas has to exist.]

Oh, and this awesome toy.  Don't forget that.  It smells like joy (they said something about catnip, but who cares if it smells like heaven?)  Better yet, it has this awesome feather thing on it I can kill.  I can't get enough of this thing that showed up for me from this big stocking-like thing on Christmas day.     

[Me, standing guard over my lovely spangles.]

But over all, this Christmas stuff is overrated.  Remember my lovely, perfect jungle gym?  Well, I tried to protect it.  I stood by to make sure they couldn't take it away from me.  But they did, anyway.  The freaking day after Christmas.  What's that about?  Why can't they leave it forever?  But before they hauled it off, they stripped off those wonderful spangles I was only halfway to destroying and the tinsel I only got to break in half.  It's just not fair.  I tried to protect it, too.  No good. 


[Humans are weird.  What can I say?]

Plus, what's this about?  The day before that crazy holiday, I got stuck playing an "angel" (whatever that is) while my person moved these weird little dolls around to tell some story.  I don't get it. 

[Friends don't let friends who use these things live.] 

Worst of all, on that nightmarish day, this nasty thing showed up.  And I got stuck in it much of the day.  Seriously?  Humans are twisted and sadistic to invent such a nasty thing.  Shame on you, Santa Claws (or whatever they call that monster).  Next year, I'm staying in my jungle gym and throwing away the key (if I can find one.)

Humans Are Despicable

[Snurfle.  Twixie in a turkey hat.  I about died.  Talk about appropriate.  Such a turkey.  I about died laughing.]

Ruru the Cat here.  Remember how last week, I said humans looooved to use Christmas as an excuse to dress up themselves and us poor, innocent four-legged denizens of the universe with crap we don't need and don't want?  Well, here's proof.  I was minding my own business, taking a nap and hiding away from everyone when I heard the dulcet sounds of my food hitting the dish. 

[GAH!  Not again!]

I came to investigate, when I was nabbed and shoved into this crappy number I endured last week.  Really? 

[Just shoot me now.  Or, better yet, shoot anyone who would do this to a poor, defenseless animal.]

But it gets worse.  I was then shoved into the arms of our house guest WHO WAS HOLDING A DOG.  Not just a dog but THE dog that steals my food, my lovings, and my freedom to roam my house unmolested by dog smells.  Well, other than MY dogs, whom I can tolerate only because they ignore me most of the time.  And they know better than to mess with me.  This one barks at any cat that she catches unawares, in spite of our threats to turn her face into a pincushion.  THAT dog.  I was, needless to say, less than pleased. 

[Poor, unfortunate souls.]

Then, the people went around shoving hats on other animals.  It's not so bad when they do it to dogs.  Dogs can handle this kind of ridiculousness. 

[What did poor Maya do to deserve this?]

But when they do it to us cats, we just want to murder something.  Or, better yet, someone.  It's just not fair.  When can we get rid of this Christmas stuff again?  I mean, other than my lovely, green, tree-shaped jungle gym.  That stays. 

Ho Ho Horrible People

[GAH!!!!  The yeti came back! This time, she had a smaller yeti in tow.  At least they left again.]

Ruru the Cat here.   Seriously.  It's not enough to bring new beasties into my life that want to steal my blog.  It's not enough to share my dog food with actual DOGS.  It's not even enough to allow the yeti back into my house with a yeti junior.  (Not one but TWO huge white dogs, filling all my space all DAY yesterday--okay, so they spent most of that time in the backyard, but they still came in my house.)  No.  That didn't satisfy my humans.  It wasn't obnoxious enough for them. 

[A reindeer hat?  Seriously?]

No, it gets even worse.  Yesterday, my people stuck me in a ridiculous hat.  Yes, a HAT.  WHICH IS CLOTHING.  Do I look happy?  NO! 

[Look at that malicious smile!  They're laughing at me!]

I've blogged all about how much I do NOT like clothing.  They stuck it on my head then started laughing and singing Christmas music.  I'm sure I heard a crack about Rudolf, that dumb red-nosed deer guy I keep hearing people sing about.  It's just not fair. 

[My beautiful, perfect, killable jungle gym.]

Okay, so I like the smell of mint and that huge, green jungle gym that's a real TREE this year with real shiny baubles I can kill.  I like that big, red flower that makes it feel like we're outside without having to go outside.  I especially like shredding and playing with those brightly-colored  packages under the jungle gym.  I like some parts of Christmas.  But something about Christmas makes people want to stick a cat in a costume.  Gah.  Just give me my jungle gym and let me shred it in peace. 

Play? Play!

[People are mean.]

Ruru the Cat here.  I thought I was going to actually get to write my own blog this week.  I thought I was going to get to complain all about how cute my person thinks it is to haul my fuzzy butt out into the snow and make me cold and angry.  Or how she tossed me in the snow or how she plays with my whiskers and sometimes even plucks them out.  I had a whole lot of complaining to do this week.  Instead, that stinking dog, Cali, insists it's her turn to steal my blog.  Really?  I just got my blog back from a pincushion on legs.  Gah.

(ME! CALI!)

Hi!  I'm a dog!  I'm Cali!  I'm a dog.  

I knew this was a mistake.  You just repeated yourself.  

Bark bark bark bark!  

In human words, dog.  People don't speak stupid.  

[Me, asking Ruru to play.]

I was just saying I want to play.  Do you want to play with me?  I want to play with you!  I like to play!  I like to chew on my bones and on my toys and on your toys and I'd really like to chew on the cats around here, but they won't let me. 

Darn straight.  You try, you die.  Does that face in that picture say play with me?  I don't think so. 

[I love toys and ornaments and balls and toys.]

I like to go outside and play.  And I like to play with balls and ornaments on the tree and with bones and with cats.  Did you know I like to play with cats?  Oh, look!  A cat!  

Bark bark bark bark bark bark bark! 

Never again.  Never never never again will I let a dog touch my computer.  

[Me with my friends!]

I like to play with my friends, too.  I have lots of friends I like to visit.  Person friends and dog friends that all play with me.  I have two friends here, Twixie and Dodger.  We like to run around and around and around and bark and play and play and play. 

[I, Ruru, stuck this picture here to show that Dodger will let people do just about anything to him.]

[Even this, the cruelest of all human-inflicted torture devices: the bath tub.  Something is wrong with a dog that will let humans do this.]

Dodger doesn't seem to know how to be a puppy, but Twixie is a great puppy!  

Says you.  Useless throw rug if you ask me.  Makes a good butt warmer when he sits in my seat.  

And I like to eat.  Food is yummy.  All food.  I like my food and Twixie and Dodger's food and person food, but my mommy won't let me have much person food.  It's so yummy.  

She's not kidding she likes to eat.  I used to be able to sneak some dog food.  Now, vacuum breath sucks it all down and looks around for more.  Dude.  What does it take to get dog food around here anymore?  And speaking of vacuum, I have never seen a creature that thought that loud, obnoxious, smelly monster was anything but a threat.  Weird Cali likes to play with it.  Not kidding.  Something is just not right with that dog.  

And walks are so great!  I love to go outside and play and play and play and smell everything, but mostly play!  

See my first point.  Outside is the very devil.  You know dogs have real problems if they think there's anything redeemable about the not-so-great outdoors.

[My mommy is so great.  She decided she wanted to look just like me.]

Most of all, I love my mommy!  My mommy is so wonderful!  She gives me food and treat and loves!  She snuggles me to sleep!  

Poor woman has to listen to the piggie snorts of this crazy dog and her buzz saw snores.  Don't know how she sleeps through any of this.  Really, I question that human's sanity that she puts up with it.  Besides, doesn't this dog understand humans are staff?  They provide companionship, yes, but more often are useful for body heat and for giving us what we need.  They are NOT "mommies."  Gah.  My person is my person, not my mommy.  

I'm so happy!  Life is wonderful!  I want to play!  Will you play with me?  

[How life should be: me, my person, my blog, and NO DOGS.  Read the shirt.  'Nuff said.]

Heck, no.  Enough of that nonsense.  Sorry I didn't get to say much this time.  From here on, you'll get to read logic, sense, and gentility.  I promise.  Absolutely no. More. Dogs.  

Play?

A Big, Scary World

[Weird pets.]

Ruru the Cat here.  Remember the cactus rat I mentioned?  Well, she's most insistent she wants to talk.  Really.  That's nuts.  Who ever heard of a rodent...rat...cactus...thing that can type?  But she's got all these spikes, and she scares me 'cuz I haven't figured out how to survive eating her.  So here she is.

[A home where I could be happy.]

I came here a couple of weeks ago, from a place I was happy in a cage I was happy with people that made me happy.  Here, there are scary smells EVERYWHERE.  And scary animals making scary smells. Like the cat I just had to chase away, so I could tell you about my plight.  The only place I am truly happy is in my cage that smells like me with my bowl full of cat food and worms and my wheel and my water bottle.  

Did you just say CAT FOOD?  They're feeding you MY food?  People are jerks.  You need to go.  Oh, crap.  Get those spikes away from me. 

Then, they even changed the cage out for a smaller one that crowds all my stuff in and does not smell like me. I curled up in my little hidey for two days because it was the only thing that smelled like me.  Even the blanket was wrong.  It was cold enough, I finally rearranged it to get warm.  

[Me, sitting and trembling because of nearby people.]

They grab me almost every night, and it scares me.  I just sit and tremble and hope my spikes scare them away.  I sometimes peek out, but then a big, scary animal will sniff me.  I even tried peeing on anyone who held me.  Didn't work.  

Well, then, last night, the person with the funny smells that usually grabs and holds me was wearing a warm, comfy blanket.  I wanted to rearrange it and make a new nest.  She felt like my mommy.  I got so excited climbing all over her.  I even found a little bump to try to chew.  She kind of screamed and dropped me, which scared me.  But I got up and chased all over her again.  I am super happy with that person if she's gonna feel like mommy.  

[Look at this weirdness.]

Yeah, I heard the scream when my person's mommy got bitten in an awkward place. It was heelarious.  Looked like the cactus rat was trying to nurse like a baby.  I about died.  As long as this cactus rat doesn't climb all over me or try to bite me in awkward, painful places.  Man, people have weird taste in pets.  

Oh, jungle gym, sweet jungle gym

[My tree.  Mine]  

Ruru the Cat here.  A year ago and a year before that, we had this big green thing that smelled like plastic in my house.  It was supposed to resemble a tree, but it wasn't really one.  This year, it smells funky and is at least twice as fat.  Pretty sure it really is a tree.  In my house.  And I've claimed it.  It's mine.  Anyone who wants it has to get through me to get it. 

[Turn your back for one second, and someone else wants to claim your tree.]

Every other furry thing in the house wants to lay claim to this awesomeness that is my tree.  My person wants to lock me away in rooms to make it easy to find me later.  She doesn't seem to realize this keeps me away from my awesome tree in which I want to play all day and all night.  Other creatures think they can claim it.  For instance, in the picture above, the delusional Cassie thinks she can play with my tree.  I'll have to beat her later for daring to touch it.  The dogs keep playing under it.  The other cats just want to climb it.  But IT'S MY TREE!!!

[Then, it got even better.] 

I thought it was as awesome as a tree could get.  Huge.  Green.  Highly killable.  Then, the people put all sorts of shiny, bright baubles on it.  Dangly spangly things that I can stalk and maim.  My people must love me.  I think it's tree murdering time.  

Cactus Rat?!!!

[What in the...?]

Ruru the Cat here.  I thought my people had lost their minds when they allowed a dog in my house that looked like it had run fast into a wall and squished its nose, sounded like a snorting pig, and smelled like...well...a DOG.  Then, they did THIS.  They brought a cactus rat into my house. 

[My people have lost it.]

They've called this thing a bean, a prickle pickle, and a hedgehog. If you ask me, it doesn't look like a bean, a pickle, or a hog.  And hedgehogs, from the game my people play and shows my people watch, are blue.  It hisses, trembles, and sits around like some kind of prickly rock.  It SMELLS like an animal. It has a nose, eyes, and feet.  I know it poops.  It's alive.  But most of the time, it just looks like something totally inedible, though it smells like it could be prey. And they feed it MY food.  Food better than mine, in fact. Which they don't share with me.  Grrr. 

[Am I the only one who sees something wrong with this?] 

I just don't get it.  Why bring in a rat with armor?  A rat without armor is fun, is killable, is fun.  I could spend hours of joyous time playing it to a slow and delightful demise.  But this thing?  I don't want to touch it.  Not sure why they do.  They say it's cute, but I'm the very definition of cute.  I KNOW cute. And if you have cats, why would you need anything else?  I've said it before, and I'll say it again.  Humans don't make ANY sense. 

Monster in my house! Again!

[Yet another nasty beastie I DON'T want in my house!] 

Ruru the Cat here.  I seriously think my people hate me.  They must, or they wouldn't keep bringing stinking dogs in here.  I just get rid of one round of unnecessary, unwanted dogs (but then, I repeat myself), and another one shows up.  It's my house.  Mine.  A house for cats alone, and not even all cats.  Just me.  And my people.  Toothless can stay, but everyone else with fur and four legs should go.

But dogs are WAAAAAY worse than cats.  I kept hearing rumors that they were going to bring in another person to stay for a while.  They were setting up this camper, whatever that is, for this human to stay in.  Fine, whatever.  Not my problem.  But then, they brought the actual human to stay here while they set up her camper.  This STILL wouldn't have been my problem (I'm okay with an extra set of hands to pet me), except that this human came with a DOG.  The nasty dog above.  We all disappeared for the whole day, hoping against hope this was a one-day visit.  If it can't see us, we can't see it, can we?  And what you can't see is supposed to DISAPPEAR.  Then, another day came and went, and yet, the slobbery mutt remained, eating my dog food, messing with my dogs (can't believe I just said that) and drinking from my water dish.  Which part of my smells everywhere are unclear?  This is MY house.  Mine.  You can't have it.  I marked everything and everyone, ESPECIALLY the dog food. 

[The monster in my face now.  Worse than just my house.]

I've even caught my people turning traitor and petting that thing.  They thought it was funny to get the two of us together for the picture above.  There is NOTHING funny about sticking me in a dog's face, unless I'm allowed to shred the dog.  That would be hilarious.   And the thing is STILL HERE.  What's the deal?  I thought hiding would get my message across.  Now, I'm taking extreme measures by blogging.  If that doesn't work, I don't know what I'll do.  People are just dense.  Which part of MY HOUSE do you not understand.  Mine.  I think I need new people.  Ones who catch a hint.  That's it.  I'll give away mine and get a new batch.  Ones that behave by keeping dogs out. 

Person Heads

[What's this supposed to be, some funny-looking dog?  Thought we had enough of those around here.]

Ruru the Cat here.  People are strange.  This week, my people used those costume thingies they love to inflict on me on themselves.  They wore these big round things that I think were supposed to be animal heads on their own heads.  Wasn't very convincing because they didn't smell like anything other than people.  And they came home after wearing those things with piles of nasty-smelling stuff I think they call candy.  I heard someone say the word "Halloween," as if it was an important word, but it means nothing to me.

[Fake cat holding a real cat.  At least something's real around here.]

This is one of those strange things my person put on her own head.  I think it's supposed to be a cat, but I found it a bit ridiculous.  It's flattering that my person thinks I'm awesome enough to imitate.  Then again, it should be obvious cats are so cool that everyone would want to be just like us. 

[What the what?  No idea what this thing is supposed to be.]

Then again, if that's the case, why did my person's brother wear this one instead?  Not sure what it's supposed to be, but it does look a bit scary with those big teeth.  Just when I think I have these human-types figured out, they go and do something nutty that confuses me again.  Ah, well.  At least I don't have to be one, even if they wanna be me. 

Nasty Forcefields

[Mmmmmeat!  Human food is the best.]

Ruru the Cat here.  Humans make such lovely food.  Yes, yes, I get that we cats are welcome to eat our boring kibble once a day, steal the dogs' food all day, and then get yummy treats whenever they're offered.  Those are lovely, but the real stuff is what they eat, themselves.

[Slices of heaven.]

For instance, they make this lovely stuff called bread.  White, soft, yummy bread.  But do they offer it to me?  Generally not.  Which means I have to steal it.  Then they get unhappy.  Well, if they'd offer it to me to begin with, I wouldn't have to steal it.  It's kind of like an open invitation to steal.

But they always put this invisible force field around that lovely, happy bread that melts in my mouth.  They force me to chew through that nasty force field I think they call plastic to get to that lovely stuff.  Then, they put it in a thicker, nastier plastic, as if they want me to think it's not open season on lovely bread.  I repeat, if those stinking humans would just offer me the stuff I want to begin with, things wouldn't have to get so complicated.

[Me, trying to get through an obnoxious force field on my fishie crackers.]

It's worse yet when they put those force fields around stuff like fishie crackers.  My person actually gives me crackers, so I know I'm supposed to have them.  Plastic force fields are not the worst thing they do.  These fishie crackers are generally stuck in this cardboard container I can't chew through, which is far worse than the force field.  When they leave it open, I can fish for those tidbits of cheesie yumminess using my paw.  But too often, they close it up.  Then, I can only wish for the force field I can actually break.  But it gets worse still when they put meat, cheese, and the best of all things into a hard, metal box that's cold inside.  When they do that, I am reduced to sitting by every time it's open and beging, waiting on their mercy to give me the treasures for which I yearn.

Maya the Cat here.  I just thought I'd jump in and say plastic is really great to lick and lick and lick and lick.  It doesn't even need to taste like anything.  I don't know why the other cats don't find licking plastic exciting, except sometimes Toothless.  It's not even about the food inside.  Plastic doesn't keep you from the yumminess.  It IS the yumminess.  Plastic is magic.  

Maya, you're weird.  

[How fishie crackers should be served, in vast quantities, readily available.]

Seriously, people, stop making it so hard for us cat-types to actually get this human food.  You know we cats are in charge.  Stop complicating our lives unnecessarily by making us work so hard.  Thus sayeth your masters.  Cute, fluffy, big-eyed masters you love so much that you're gonna go out and give us a fishie cracker RIGHT NOW.

Ditching Me AGAIN!!!

(My person behaving properly, worshiping me.)

Ruru the Cat here.  My person walked out on me AGAIN.  Seriously?  Is it my breath?  Is it that stupid, obnoxious dog?  I can't think it's me.  She keeps disappearing for DAYS like she can't stand to be around me.  Then, she comes back talking about some other cat or smelling like a dog, like she's got better things to do than to sit around, petting me.  How is that even possible?  A human hand is built for loving a cat.  I can't imagine there's anything in this world more important than giving me love. 

[What the freak is that THING?  And why is my person feeding it?] 

[And this thing?  I just know it's not me.]

[What the what?]

[Now, I know they're joking because whatever-this-is can't exist.]

She talked about petting another cat, like I wasn't enough.  But weirder still, she came back smelling like weird things, I mean weirder than poodles, which was the primary thing I smelled on her.  I don't even know how to describe these other smells.  She said something about petting a llama, a zedonk or something that sounded like that, a sheep, some goats, an alpaca, an emu, and a camel.  I don't even think most of those are real words.  I think she made them up just to tease me and make me jealous.

[Yeah, whatever.  This isn't me.]

She also talked about hiking among red rocks, something about Arches and land canyon, Canyonlands, something like that.  It meant nothing to me because I can't imagine rocks and arches and canyons could be better than hanging out with me.  At least she's back.  I guess that's the important thing. 

I don't understand people.  They pretend that they love me then run out any chance they get to pet and stare at stuff that isn't me.  Humans just don't make any sense. 

Close Call

[I'll take a serious mauling if it means my person won't leave me.]

Ruru the Cat here.  I swear my person likes to give me a heart attack.  She and the other people around here talked all about they were going to be gone the whole weekend.  They gave us food early in the day as if they were going to be gone a LONG time.  They stuck the dogs in the bathroom, like they planned to be gone at least over night.  They did everything they could to make me think they would be gone FOREVER. 

Then, that very same night, there they were, back as if they'd never gone.  I had to pin down my person and purr at her and get all snuggly to make sure she was so happy with me that she would NEVER leave me AGAIN.  I wonder if it was a prank by the people around here, and they spent the whole time just outside the house, laughing at me.  I'm sure that's what they did.  Man, people are meanies. 

Puppy Toddlers?

[Hmm.  Thought it'd be scarier.]

Ruru the Cat here.  Who knew that dogs have a toddler version?  I really had no idea.  We've had what people around here called puppies.  They seem hyperactive and bigger than me, jumping all over and trying to lick me.  Eating my dog food.  Attacking everything that moved.  Basically, a louder, bigger, smellier version of an obnoxious kitten (but I repeat myself.)  It turns out that puppies come in smaller sizes.  And wussier sizes, too.  Some people who are over here frequently (they own the yeti that used to haunt my backyard) brought these things they called "puppies." 

[This is where I was sure I was dead.]

When I caught that my person was holding one of those dog toddlers, I started to freak out.  I mean, puppies/dogs are bad.  Toddlers are worse.  You throw them all together into one creature, and you'd expect them to jump all over you, pull your tail, and suck on your head like you were a lolly pop until you exploded.  I mean, I was picturing a Mega Monster to end all monsters. 

[Twixie in his awesome cone of shame meeting one of the puppy things.  Did I mention it's the best thing ever to watch Twix try to run upstairs in that thing?  He bumps into every stair.  HEELARIOUS.  Bummer he's out of it now.  Thought I was gonna laugh myself sick.]

But then I saw that these things are about as scary as a spaghetti noodle.  I mean, the people plunk them down, and they sort of sit wherever they're put, like a stuffed "animal."  They were about as terrifying as a teddy bear.  Almost (but not quite) cute, too.  The worst part of their visit was NOT the floppy little fuzzpuddles, themselves. 

[My twisted person smiling over my pain over being outside.]

The worst part was my person thought it was hilarious to use their visit as an excuse to carry me to this big scary place they call OUTSIDE.  She thought it was awesome to swing with me. 

[Perversity of thinking I want to slide.  Do you see that look of terror?  Seriously.]

And slide with me.  I DO NOT WANT TO SLIDE.  All that fast moving?  Only way I want to move that fast is if I'm chasing down a tasty little mouse that needs to die. 

[Nasty grass.  Terrible stuff.  Why'd they ever invent it?] 

And put me into this awful stuff they call GRASS.  I mean, if not for that, I wouldn't mind those little dog-toddlers around here.  (Never thought I'd hear myself say THAT).  As long as they don't get big.  And toddlery.  Or, worse yet, turn into big, slobbery yeti dogs.   *Shudder.*