Sunshine and Lollipops (and Blood)

[Me, reminding Twixie this is my spot.  And that I'm in charge.]

Ruru the Cat here.  It's been a stellar week!

No it hasn't.

Shut up, Twixie.  Really, it was.  For one thing, there were no toddlers.  Any week without toddlers is an AWESOME week.

Except the blood.  

Ah, come on, Twixie.  Such a spoil sport.  Just because you bled a little.

A lot.  I could have bled to DEATH. 

Melodrama much?  Anyway, just because you bled a bit does NOT mean it was a bad week.  I mean, check it.  My person was here two days when she's usually at this awful place called school.  (Shudder).  She gave me lots of love!  And lots and lots of fishie crackers!

Okay, so there was this:

[Me, suffering in one of those awful human things called a costume.  I am not a bee.  Don't make me look like one.] 

And this: 

[Yummy-smelling cupcakes my person refused to share with me.  Seriously.  What gives?] 

And, finally, this: 

[My person putting a fake spider on my head and laughing.]  

So it wasn't exactly a perfect week.  But I'll take it because there WERE NO TODDLERS.  

But you didn't mention what happened yesterday.  What about me?  

What about you, Twixie?  This is a cat's blog, not a dog's blog.  If the people here wanted a dog's blog, they'd go take a nap instead because no one in their right mind would waste time on a dog's blog.  

No, I mean how our person's dad scared the crap out of me by walking around, which caused me to cut my foot on a picture frame and bleed everywhere, up and downstairs, through the kitchen and bathroom, everywhere before anyone noticed and did something.  

Don't remind me.  Some rooms still smell of dog.  Blech.  

[A dog's pain and suffering.]

It hurt!  A lot!  I felt weak and woozy.  Instead of holding me and loving me forever and making it better, my person's mom held something to my owie foot until I wanted to cry like a person then they wrapped my owie up so I couldn't lick at it and make it all better THEN they trapped me in a kennel so I couldn't run around or anything.  They gave me hamburger to eat, which was nice, but my foot still hurt--a lot--and still hurts and they let me out of the kennel, but they're making me wear this bandage thing and blocking me from peeling it off my foot by sticking me in a cone thingie that makes me feel and look ridiculous.  That's what you're supposed to tell them about.  

Well, now, I don't have to because you did.  I'm still laughing over the cone, just so you know.  You do look pretty funny.  But look at that messy paragraph with lots of run-ons and terrible grammar.  You see, this is why you shouldn't read a dog's blog.  They don't know anything.  Like that a cat's suffering is so much worse than a dog's.  Wearing that stupid bee costume, for instance, is WAY worse than losing a bit of blood.  It musses up my hair, so I have to bathe myself for a half hour.  Come on, priorities, Twixie.  

Toddlergeddon Strikes Again and Again and Again and Again...

(Looks safe, doesn't it?  It ISN'T.  It's gonna grow up to be a TODDLER!!!  Dodger, run away)

Ruru the Cat here.  Remember how I joked the people with the toddler were coming back?  Well, it wasn't a joke!  They came back AGAIN.  Like, two days later.  TWICE in one WEEK!!!!  How much do they hate me?  Seriously?  I thought I was rid of them for at least, I don't know, a week or something.  Maybe a year.  Possibly a decade would be nice. 

But, NOOO.  They came back.  And they STILL have the toddlers.  The thing that surprised me was that the little pink bundle hadn't doubled in size and become another monster toddler and maybe popped out another two or three monsters just like them. 

(The terrified look of a cat watching a toddler terrorize her house.)

They seemed happily distracted most of the time with those little boxes with wheels, cars I think they're called.  They still made a lot of noise and threw around my dog food and stole my milk and generally made a mess of my lovely, peaceful house.  I just don't understand why someone would want to go and buy a crazy pet like a toddler when you could have a SANE companion like a cat.  I was relieved when they disappeared again, but then they seemed to have taken my people with them.  I don't get it.  When you have toddlers, why do you have to haul off my people, too?

Fortunately, my people came back the next day.  Without toddlers.  I'm seriously jumping every time I hear a whine or a scream or something.  I'm sure those toddling monsters will be BACK.  They're haunting my nightmares.  And since I sleep all day, I have a LOT of nightmares.  All day long, they're toddling through my dreams, grabbing me and smearing me with peanut butter.  *Shudder.*  Say it to yourself.  "Toddlers."  Doesn't it send chills?  If it doesn't, it should. 

Revenge of Toddlergeddon

Ruru the Cat here.  I was so relieved that the visitors with two toddlers were finally gone for good.  They didn't come all summer long.  Haven't been here for months.  I was starting to breathe easier, knowing they'd flown off to some other universe to plague poor, innocent cats there.

[Monster 1 rears its cat-pounding head again.]

But, no.  They returned.  [Insert scary music here.]  I think you remember what a nightmare these things are.  Well, it gets worse.

[Twix is braver than me when it comes to these monsters.]

They REPRODUCED!!!  Yes, those two monster toddlers got together and made another little, floppy, whiny thing.  In PINK this time.  I used to think the little ones were safe.  But, no, they get bigger and become MORE TODDLERS who want to chase you around and pull your tail.  Do they have some kind of machine you step into to make more little tail-grabbing, cat-slapping monsters?  I don't get how such a travesty happens.

[Look at this thing, positively mauling my poor, defenseless head.]

They came rampaging into my house a couple of days ago and positively took over, throwing around my dog food and fishie crackers, tossing wrappers and debris everywhere, running from room to room to room screaming and giggling, making stinky packages to muck up my perfectly respectable garbage cans and make my litter box cry with the stink, pounding on each other or screaming some more, and even taking over our lovely cats-only basement.  They took up every inch of my house.  Usually, I'm delighted to slip out of my person's room when things are quiet to get myself some dinner and a drink.  This time, not so much.  I seriously noped when my person's mom opened the door because I heard the toddler monsters from all the way upstairs.  And I love my tail.  It's a lovely tail.  I don't need it yanked and broken.

[Get me out of here!] 

Even my person got into the action, dragging me downstairs and putting me in toddlers' way.  I clung to my person and pretended it wasn't happening.  She laughed, I tell you, LAUGHED.  There is nothing funny about little monsters taking over your house.  They're finally gone again, but I know better than to imagine they won't come back.  And maybe next time, they'll show up with SIX or EIGHT toddlers.  Beware.  You may want to lock your doors, or the toddlers are coming for you next.

Cheating on Me

[My person doing rude things with my ears, but also paying attention to the RIGHT thing: ME!]

Ruru the Cat here.  I know my person is cheating on me.  Twice this week, she's disappeared to somewhere else and come back smelling like dogs.  I mean, LOTS of dogs.  Little ones that smell fresh and new.  And when my people walked in the door, they were talking about these puppies.  They were feeding these little things.  From my experience, dogs will pretty much eat anything.  Why give them actual food?

[Mountain of attention-grabbing monsters.]

I scoped out my person's mom's pictures.  It's confirmed.  My person is actually ditching me to hang out with dogs.  LITTLE dogs.  And if they're as obnoxious as little cats, the only thing she could do that was worse was bringing them HERE.  We HAVE a puppy.  It's obnoxious and loud.  I think they said something about the number TEN.  What could one possibly do with ten annoying, slobbery little useless things?  And why spend time that way when you could actually spend time with ME?

[Ignore this picture.  There's nothing cute about it.  It's all about me.]

I just don't get why my person would choose them over me.  I'm cute, aren't I?  I'm loving and sweet.  I'm the center of the world.  Why do you need anything else?

That Stupid S Word

(Me.  It's about me.  Just deal with it.)

Ruru the Cat here.  You know that lovely world I described last week?  That world in which I had my wonderful person around all day, every day?  Well, it's all gone now.  All gone.  I'm NOT happy.  

I got that lovely world for a day.  Just a day.  Not even that, and that crappy S word started.  They call it "school," but that seems like such a boring word for a terrible event that happens for so many hours each day.  I can't imagine what steals my person away for so stinking long EVERY DAY, well, almost every day.  I don't understand the pattern.  It's just that some days, she's there, and some days, she's not.  I hate this.  I just get her back, and she leaves me again.  It's perverse, I tell you, and just not right.  

Seriously.  Do they not understand that life is all about me?  She's supposed to be here for me, to offer me crackers and pet me and NOT put me in costumes.  She's supposed to be there all day, every day.  This S word crap needs to stop.  And some days, when she starts at home, she goes somewhere else and doesn't come back in a hurry.  I just can't understand why someone would want to do anything that doesn't involve me.  People don't make any sense at all.