Serious NO!

(Scary world)

Ruru the Cat here.  I can't imagine what possessed my person.  She took me to this nasty place, worse than the bathroom.  Worse even than the bath TUB.  Oh, it was terrible, like some kind of nightmare.  Worse than a nightmare because it's still THERE!  Nightmares fade. 

I can hardly talk about it because it was so traumatic, like the day the dumb dog let my mouse get away or the last two days without my person.  But worse.  My person was there, which is great, but she did this horrible thing.  She took me OUTSIDE.  Can you believe that?  It was terrifying. 

(On that horrible swingy thing.)

She dragged me outside where that scary bright light shone overhead.  It's brighter than anything inside.  And there's this field of green stuff on the ground.  It smells great, like I wanted to munch on it, but I didn't want to touch it.  I'm not sure how that would work, but I was willing to find out.  However, my person didn't let me. 

She dragged me onto this swinging thing that went back and forth and back and forth.  She held me on her lap, so I should have felt safe.  But I didn't.  I just wanted to go inside where it's quiet and peaceful, and the only things trying to kill me are other cats I know and can beat up. 

(Oh, the horror, the horror!)

Oh, but it gets worse, much worse.  She then put me up on this smooth plastic thing and dropped me down.  I felt like I was going to die right there.  I knew I would fall forever.  It felt like I was falling for a year.  Just when I knew I would hit that stuff on the ground, she caught me.  AND DID IT AGAIN.  Only then did she bring me inside. 

My person is sick, I tell you, sick.  I don't know what humanity's problem is that they seem to LIKE to go to this ugliness called outside.  Leave me inside.  It's good here.  It's not terrifying.  It smells like me.  I'll let you all live if you don't do that to me again. 

One (Slightly Used) Mouse for Sale

(Toothless doing his noble duty to get me a mouse.]

Ruru the cat here.  It's been one awesome week.  Day after day, Toothless has caught one or two mice.  I wonder if it has anything to do with this spring stuff, or if we've just hit the lottery.  Some weeks, we can't find even one.  My brother is really good at catching them.  It's too much work for me.  I'll get all excited about hearing and smelling a mouse and wait around for a little while, but then they don't do much.  It gets kinda boring.  But Toothless will stick it out, get wherever the mouse is, and then play it to death.  He's awesome that way. 

[Me, showing Toothless I appreciate his gift.]

And sometimes, he spends the whole time keeping them to himself, growling at anyone who gets anywhere near.  Yeah, sometimes he's a jerk.  Just because I lose patience doesn't mean I don't WANT them.  Well, this week, he caught so many, he let me play with them a while.  Usually, somewhere between where it finally stops squeaking at him and before he beheads them.  Yeah, I find it kind of gross, too.  I like to kill them but leave them all put together.  They look more like a toy that way.  But anyway, so he let me play with a few of them.  He even let me haul some of them around. 

(Now, I share it with you.  Be impressed.)

But then I'd get bored and just sort of leave them where people could find them.  I mean, I'm done using them, Toothless is off chasing another, and my people are really terrible mousers.  They need to learn how it's done.  And how better than to leave them a present like that?  Yeah, I'm that awesome.  I love them so much that I know you'll love them, too.  'Cuz I'm sweet like that.  I'm waiting for your thanks.  Yeah, you're welcome. 

My Ears!

(My poor, beautiful ears)

Ruru the Cat here.  I have lovely ears.  Look at them.  They have these perfect little tufts that come off the tips that my person loves to play with.  But whenever I justifiably beat up on that annoying Cass cat who is in my house without my permission, breathing my air and taking up my space and sometimes eating food that should go to me, she will snag my ears.  Really?  This is my house.  It was my house first.  I don't care that she looks like my dead cat mom.  I don't care that Toothless seems to think she's okay and will snuggle her.  She needs to understand that this house is MINE and that my ears need to stay lovely.  

A few months ago, she snagged my ears hard and cut me hard, like half an inch down through that nice little tuft on my ear that makes me look like a wild cat.  I couldn't even find the tuft to wash it for the longest time.  It's just now growing back, and that stinking Cass starts gunning for it again.  My ear got scratched today AGAIN by that stinking cat that does not belong in my house.  Just 'cuz I pick on her does not mean she can take it out on my ears.  And to add insult to injury, my person thinks I want this nasty goo on my cut and a human BANDAID thing.  I do not need that sticky crap on my lovely ear.  I can lick it and take care of it.  People just don't get that our tongues are better than any human stuff.  If she were a proper cat mama, my person would lick it and make it better that way.  Then again, she has person cooties in her mouth, too.  It just bugs me that all of this happens because there's a stupid cat in my house that doesn't deserve to breathe my air.  I'm the victim here.  Seriously.  

Better Yet: Live Action Fishie Cracker!

(Mine!)

Ruru the Cat here.  Oh, my crap, my person's room has gotten so very much better.  For one thing, it smells like beautiful fresh spring.  The window is open, so I can sit in the sun and feel the air.  I don't want to actually go outside.  Oh, no.  It's super duper scary out there with loud cars zipping around, other cats, predators everywhere, dogs... monsters all over.  No no.  But I love to sit and smell the air.  I can smell the cats and dogs and predators without actually being somewhere they can get me.  Toothless keeps trying to sneak in there to take my spot by the window, but it's MY SPOT.  

(Seriously mine!)

But that's not the best thing.  Last week, I told you about my precious fishie crackers and how the world is a sunnier, happier place with them in it.  Well, this week, my person brought home a fishie cracker that swims by itself.  All by itself!  Funny thing is it doesn't smell like a cracker.  It smells more like a can of tuna (which I love).  And it's shiny, bright, and goldish color.  I know it would taste like sort of a mix of tuna and fishie crackers, my two favorite things in the world, if only I could catch it.  But my person has a lid on it.  I mean, a lid.  The nerve.  You'd think she doesn't want me to eat this lovely piece of yumminess.  

Whyever would that be?  I mean, she loves me, right?  And I would love love love to have that yummy little bit.  She wouldn't deny me the thing I want most in the whole wide world, would she?  But she IS denying it to me.  Maybe she just doesn't understand how very much I want it, even though I sit between it and my lovely open window all the time to show exactly how very much I love both of these things.  One of these moments, my clueless person will get a clue and show how much she loves me.  I know it.