North American Tree Weasels Lose Our Tree

[My favorite jungle gym.]

Ruru the Cat here.  My people have taken to calling us the "North American Tree Weasels" because we're always running up and down that so-called Christmas tree thing.  The problem, of course, was that everyone else was always taking over my favorite jungle gym.  I scarcely got to hang out in that thing.  I only got to kill one or two ornaments.  I wanted to take out the whole tree.  Whenever I'd try to slink over there, casually so no one knew it was me, I'd find Cass or, worse yet, Sylvie.  It's supposed to be MY jungle gym. 

[The one toy worth killing.]

Anyway, one day this week, our people gathered around it and took out all those lovely packages wrapped in the oh-so-shreddable paper they stuck in plastic, so I couldn't shred.  They passed those things around.  They even gave me this fuzzy sock-shaped thing filled with boring toys I've scarcely touched.  What I really wanted was that tree, but they didn't stick it in my fuzzy sock.  Clearly, humans aren't as sharp as they think. 

[Little monster steals my toy.]

I do have to say one of those  boring toys was not made of cheap plastic.  It's this big, frilly, fuzzy thing with lots of baubles and shiny, dangly bits.  I like that thing.  I can kill it like they won't let me do the ornaments.  But then, I see them sharing it with the puppies, those useless little rodents, also on the unfortunate list of forbidden play objects.  Sad, too.  I could make quick work of those 4-inch fluffy things.  And now, my toy has puppy cooties.  Thanks again, people.  Grrr. 

[Empty spot where the tree was.]

Anyway, so one day, the mom around here hauled off the tree.  Sylvie was lost all day.  She kept coming back to see if it would return.  It was her favorite hidey hole.  Sucks to be her.  But now, I'll have to wait until next year to slaughter the ornaments.  Ah, well.  I guess I can steal my fun toy back and kill it.  I can also pretend that I'm hunting those annoying and chirpy puppies that are just going to grow and become MORE annoying dogs to eat my dog food.   I think I'll go to sleep mauling that toy, while dreams of annoying, little barky rodents dance in my head.  That'll be fun. 

Unmerry Christmas

[This is me, Marty, in a picture from a few months ago.]

This is Marty, one of Ruru's "yetis."  I figured since she left her blog open, I'd sneak in.  It's been a really rough week for we dogs who sometimes stay in Ruru's backyard.  Ruru won't even tell you about how big and cute her family's puppies are getting or how worried her family has been that our suffering would spread to them.  

[My beloved family before all of this began]

Last Sunday, Ruru was excited to see us gone.  Well, what she wouldn't tell you is the day after my children found what they thought would be their forever families, one after another got sick with a terrible disease the humans call "parvo."  It broke my heart when I heard how two of them threw up blood and then had to be put down.  I'm not sure what put down means, but it sounds bad.  I've seen one of my sons get better and my daughter avoid the disease entirely.  I heard another son got better.  I'm happy about all that, but I've decided it's time for all of them to move on.  I just want it to be me and my mate.  It's time.  I don't even want my son in my yard anymore.  I'm not sure why he came back from his new home.  

[My beautiful mate and me.]

Except midweek, a day after the terrible news about my boys came to us, my darling Willow ran away.  I heard that she got "hit" by a "car," but I'm not sure what all that means.  I just know she never came back.  It was so much fun to go running with her before the puppies came.  That was a blast.  I figured when she went running away, she'd always come back.  She's always come back.  She raised me then had my puppies.  She's been the light of my life.  Why wouldn't she come back?  Did I do something wrong?  I howled all day to call for her, but she didn't come.  And now, I don't feel well either.  I threw up last night.  I'm not sure why.  I just hope I don't throw up blood because that sounds bad.  I just wish we could be one happy family again.  At least, me and my mate.  Why can't we do that?  

[Remind me how all this is my problem.]   

Ruru the Cat:  Dangit.  The dumb yeti got to my computer before I could.  I was just stealing my person's goldfish crackers, then I was gonna get right on and tell you about the nightmare of the toddlers showing up and taking over my house again.  I guess I'm gonna have to do that next week.  Oh, and can I say once again I'm happy to NOT be a dog?   'Cuz it sounds like it sucks to be a yeti. 

So Glad this Wasn't Me

[Gah!  The yetis are back!]

Ruru the Cat here.  I was gonna whine all about how the yetis were back all week.  In fact, there are two still there, but I know the others are coming back, all kazillion of them.  They did before.  Why wouldn't they come again, barking and barking and barking and barking?  They're terrifying.  At least they're outside while I'm in here. 

[The faces of the victims of a horrible place called "The Vet."]

Anyway, so I WAS gonna write all about that, but Sylvie, both dogs, and the snake insisted they waited long enough.  They had to speak out against horrible and offensive place they were all taken recently, first the dogs, then the snake, and then that horrible beast of a cat, Sylvie.  In the case of the dogs, it sounds like they were poked and prodded, and Snow the dog had teeth yanked out of her head.  *Shudder.*  Almost worse, Sylvie was knocked out in such a place, and when she woke up, her belly had been shaven, and her guts taken out.  She was all sewn up again.  The snake was just hauled in, poked and prodded, and then came back whiny.  What kind of a terrible place does this kind of thing? 

[My face whenever I think they'll ever take me there.] 

Well, on the bright side, at least it wasn't me.  I think I went to a place like that when I was really little, but I haven't been back since.  I'd deal with a dozen yetis before I got ripped open and had organs removed or been stabbed or whatever.  Seriously.  Whose bright idea is a torture chamber for pets?  Humans are twisted. 

Game of Trees

[Behold, my beloved Jungle Gym]

Ruru the Cat here.  Every year, I look forward to the opportunity to run in and out and up and down my favorite jungle gym, the big, green, tree-shaped thing that smells nothing like a tree but is covered in happy, shiny baubles I can kill.  They call it a Christmas tree, but that's a meaningless phrase.  It's not a tree, and what the flip is something called Christmas to a cat?  Well, this year, I've scarcely gotten to climb in my beloved jungle gym at all.  Everyone else seems to beat me to it.  

[Even Toothless, my beloved or at least tolerated, brother gets into the game]

Every time I go to kill me some ornaments, some other cat is already doing it.  It's just not fair.  Worst of all, that monster in the basement, Sylvie, gets into the game.  In fact, she's laid claim to not just downstairs but also upstairs.  She sits triumphantly on "Queen Maya's" throne, the table, lording over that tree, climbing in the tree, doing whatever she wants to MY JUNGLE GYM.  If anyone tries to step on that table or touch that tree when she's  out of her room, she challenges them with her loud yowl, threatening us all.  She'll brawl with whoever it is if they don't bow.  Even Maya backs off, and she never backs off to me.  What kind of beast did my people bring in here?  It's my house!  I was here first!  Okay, first if you disregard Maya, which I'd much prefer to do.  All I can do is hide in a corner and stare with longing at my beautiful jungle gym.  It's just not fair.  I'm supposed to rule the house, not Maya, and certainly not Sylvie.  Anytime I ask Cass what she thinks, she hisses and cowers.  Maybe it's because any time I look at her, I'm usually trying to kill her.  She's scared of her own shadow.  Seriously, cats, why can't you be more like Cass?  Don't you see how I'm the victim here?  My house.  My jungle gym.  Mine.  

Yeti Infestation!

Yetis are back in my backyard again!

Ruru the Cat here.  I don't know if you can see them through that window, but I can see them.  And hear them.  And hear them.  And hear them some more.  They're LOUD.  And TERRIFYING!  The person holding me up to look at them was practically shredded so I could run away from those monsters.  There are hundreds of those monsters, each at least six feet tall?  Oh, hush, Toothless.  There are, too.  Okay, so Toothless wants me to say there are only seven of them about 2-3 feet each, but I'd swear I'm right. The little ones may not be so big, but the full grown ones are HUGE. 

[The yetis coming right at my back door.]

This is what they'd look like if that door weren't protecting me from their giant teeth. You see how big they are, right?  They're GIANTS!  And they're EVERYWHERE!!  They came out of nowhere, just appearing in my backyard.  It almost seemed like they brought the snow with them or that the snow produced them because they appeared the very day all that snow showed up.  And a few days later, they're still HERE!  Are they gonna be here forever?  

[Yetis!  All over!]

They're everywhere!  I keep having nightmares that they're gonna break into my house and eat me.  And they're always running and romping and acting like crazy monsters all raring to eat a poor, innocent cat like me.  They come right out of the snow, like they're made of snow.  They're definitely abominable snow monstrosities.  

[The only way I find them sort of tolerablish.]

The only way I like them is like this, all caged up.  But they're only like that at night.  The rest of the time, they're running free.  Please protect me from them.  There has to be a way to get rid of our yeti infestation.  Know any professional yeti exterminators?  No?  Dangit.  I guess I'm stuck with them.  

Fuzzy, Parasitic Worms

[Invader in my turf.  The name on the box next to me sums up my feeling on the matter.]

Ruru the Cat here.  I was gonna tell you all about how that monster, Sylvie or whatever her name is, was actually let out of that room to haunt the halls of my house.  Seriously.  You'd think my people would  know better.  Like I said, we have too many cats already.  By too many, I mean more than me.  Possibly Toothless.  But the rest are redundant.  I'm all anyone needs.  Anyway, I was gonna tell you all about that monster haunting my halls when the craziest thing happened. 

[The first worm that lived with the new dog in the background seeming to want this thing.]

Remember that annoying little lint-looking dog I mentioned a while ago?  That new one that replaced Twixie?  Well, I'm not sure how, but she actually popped some kind of parasitic worms out of her body.  I'm not sure what they are, but they look creepy and make a lot of noise.  They smelled like blood at first but now smell pretty clean. 

[The parasitic worm sucks.]

And they're sucking on the dog RIGHT now, and she doesn't seem to mind.  I don't get it.  If I had these big, parasitic worms sucking on me, I'd flip out.  It just seems so nasty and unhealthy. 

[The second parasitic worm.  Keep it away from me.]

Everyone seems to be fussing about them and cooing at them as if they weren't nasty, little parasites.  I've heard the word "puppies" used, but these can't be puppies.  They're more the size of a smallish rat.  They don't bark in any doggish way but squeal like a pig if you pull them away from that dog.  Don't they have medication for this sort of thing?  I hope I don't end up with parasitic worms like those.  *Shudder.*  I think I'll go slink off and beat on Sylvie, just to remind myself I'm thankful to be a cat. 

Too many Cats

[Proof my person is cheating on me with a strange cat.]

Ruru the Cat here.  I hear a portal opened up over the neighbor's house, the same one that the beast in the basement came from.  They have MORE CATS over there.  Strangers.  And my people, especially my person, keeps hanging out with them and playing with them and touching those cats.  She comes back smelling of them.  But she's MY PERSON.  Not theirs.  Apparently, the people over there, my person's cousins, found these cats abandoned, tossed in their carrier, maybe by accident and maybe by intent, by the side of the freeway.  Yeah, yeah, it's a sad thing for cats to be treated like this.  It's great they found a home.  Just not here.  'Cuz it's MINE.  It's hard enough for me to have everyone worship me with as many fluffy butts as we already have around here begging for attention.

[The only one who deserves attention--but not in this way.  Dumb costume.]

This is my house.  I don't want to share it with the cats we already have.  Maya claims the house as her own and picks on me whenever I try to act like it's mine.  Toothless laughs when I tell him my frustrations.  He gets along with everyone and doesn't see why I don't.  Only Cass bows before me and hides from my wrath.  I should be the queen around here, not Maya.  Still, I'm stuck with this pecking order, right in the middle, which is not where a queen belongs.  I don't know how the monster in the basement is going to shake all of this up.  But we certainly don't need to add anymore cats to complicate it.  It's my house.  Why won't anyone remember that?

Kersploosh! Oopsie

[The one who is not guilty.]

Ruru the Cat here.  It wasn't me.  No one saw me do it, so I didn't do it.  But let me tell you it was pretty funny when it happened to...um...someone who wasn't me.  So it was in the middle of the night.  Everyone but we cats were snoring away, being boring.  I was trying to be good, finding a place for some privacy.  When I found that dumb invader, Cass, in my spot under the sink.  It's my spot.  You'd think she could smell me under there 'cuz I mark it all the time. 

[How it would have felt...if I was there.  Source.]

Anyway, so what happened next was all HER fault.  She chose my spot that smelled like ME.  I had to beat on her a little to remind her who's boss.  'Cuz it's my spot, not hers.  Then...um...someone knocked out the hose thingy from under the sink.  It wasn't me.  I swear it.  Then, the water sprayed everywhere, drenching...someone who wasn't me.  Oh, and soaking the floor and the drawers under the sink, soaking through the floor and invading our space downstairs, into the litter boxes, all over the soft spots to sleep on, you know, everywhere.  So like I said, it wasn't me, but it was a serious mess.  My people are still cleaning up after whoever it was.  It just wasn't me.  

The Monster in the Basement

[The scary monster.]

Ruru the Cat here.  Just when I think my people can't stoop any lower, they go and do this.  They brought ANOTHER cat into MY house.  It's my house.  I did not give them permission. It's my house, not yours.  I own it.  I claimed it, so it's mine.  And you, traitors, let another cat in here.  What, aren't four cats wayyyy too many cats already because all you need is me?

[How I feel when there are no strangers in my house--comfy and happy.]

I keep hearing that monster meow down there, every time MY people get anywhere near that room it's in.  Then, they actually go in there and pet it, coming out smelling just like the monster (which is is NOT welcome in my house).  It sounds small, like I could shred it with my claws tied behind my back.  Not that I would because I keep fantasizing about shredding it, and it would be hard to shred it with my claws tied anywhere.

[Me, the forlorn kitty in from the cold the cold.]

Here's a note it sent out under the door:

Silvy: I was hungry and feeling really heavy with babies growing inside.  My mommy died when I was very little, and then I was on my own.  I had to figure out how to hunt scrawny little mice, but I'm not very good at it.  Mom died too early to teach me much about hunting.  But I did okay.  I survived, anyway.  Then, it got cold really fast.  I was having a hard time finding food.  Then, the big male found me.  I was sure I was going to die.  Instead, well, I'm now big, heavy, and have babies growing inside.  And I couldn't find enough food for all of us.  I remember that a few times, I survived by eating food humans put out for me.  So I sought out humans. 

[Scary, mean dogs.]

And they fed me meat.  It gave me hope I may survive.  Except then, they dragged me into their scary house.  I'd never been in a person's house before.  It was terrifying.  I tried to jump back out, but they'd closed the door.  Then, they stuck me in a box and dragged me to another house that smelled like lots of cats and mean dogs.  I thought I was going to die, surrounded like I was in predators.  I hid in a tiny space under the desk, but then I was too big to get out.  I'm just not used to being so big.  But then, the people kept giving me food and love, and I've decided I really like this love stuff.  I just can't get enough of people.  I want them to stay down here and love me.  If only they'd just stay instead of going back to the other cats and scary dogs. 

[Don't let the thing through the door.]

Not on you life, sister.  They're my people, not yours.  My house.  Get thee hence.

Serious Heckuva Nope

[An appropriate use for a costume: on a dumb dog]

Ruru the Cat here.  Do I look like a dog?  Seriously?  My person thought it would be hilarious to put me in a costume.  You see that dog in this caterpillar costume?  I keep hearing this weird word "Halloween," going around.  I've seen people dressing up for that.  I wondered if that could be the reason humans think we need to wear these ridiculous things.  It couldn't be because I stole a feather from my person's project.  It has to be that weird H word.  Anyway, so you see, this costume is fine on a DOG.  Dogs like costumes.  Or at least they don't hate them.  Cats (the smart ones, anyway) HATE them.  With a long and abiding passion. 

[NOT an appropriate use for a costume: an an adorable, self-respecting, and intelligent cat.  Note the look of disgust.]

I can only image it was my human's lapse in judgement.  I can't imagine I look like I'm the sort of cat who'd want to be dressed up.  I'm only thankful they didn't find any other ridiculous costumes.  Clothing is for persons, not cats.  Take notes if you think you're gonna forget that.  NOT cats.  

[Where we will go if you're so stupid as to forget we hate clothing.] 

If you're so silly as to think we'll tolerate these humiliating and nasty things, we're so leaving.  Go find a dog to subject to a costume.  Or put it on yourself.  Because we don't want it.  I blogged all about it last year when I talked about how I wanna be naked.  Cats don't believe in clothing.  Period.  Now, get the thing off and stick it on a dog.  

Bad Week to Have Four Legs

[Not a bad week.]

Ruru the Cat here.  I'm not saying my week was bad.  Not at all.  It was a great week.  I got to snuggle with my person a lot.   But I keep hearing whining all around me.

[sucks to be Snow]

Snow the Pomeranian: This week, my person LEFT me.  Like alone.  For a WHOLE DAY.  I was so ALONE.  Except for the dogs and cats and doctors and everybody.  But I was ALONE.  Without MY PERSON!!!  And they stuck me and pricked me like they did last week, even though I screamed as loudly as I could to stop it.  I guess I must have fallen asleep because when I woke up, my mouth felt funny and tasted like blood.  And most of my teeth were GONE!!!!  It was terrible! 

Ru: Yeah, quit whining.  At least you have a few teeth left, AND they gave you some soft, meaty food.  They didn't give me anything like that.  You see how I'm the real martyr here?

[Now, this would be Dodger with a reason to whine--the bath.]

Dodger the Pomeranian:  One day, they took my mate away.  She was just gone, and I was ALONE ALL DAY.  I missed her.  I felt so lost without her.  She came back not feeling good.  I was afraid I'd be next. 

Ru: See my answer above.  You BOTH got the soft, meaty food, and I didn't.  So it sucks to be me.

[George, the black kitten, and his obnoxious invader.]

George (the kitten next door, who lays claim to my people's cousins): My mommy went out and DIDN'T COME BACK!!!  Everyone started crying . I kept wanting to go out to find her, but no one would let me.  They said something like she died, got hit by a car.  What does that mean?  I don't even know.  But I was determined to go out and find her.  I kept trying, but for the first time in my life, no one would let me outside.  Then, they hauled me off to a scary place where they did something, so I went to sleep.  When I woke up, something was different, and I was in pain.  My people used the words "fix" and "neuter," but I don't understand those words, either.  I no sooner got home when I realized my mom had been replaced by another kitten, one who stole my place in my people's BED.  It's not fair!  My life was so beautiful before.  And now, everything has changed.  And I still don't know where mommy went.   

Ru:  Your mom died?  They stuck a strange kitten in your house who took your spot?  Put you to sleep and stole your body parts?  Yeah, not kidding sucks to be you.  I'd call you almost as big of a martyr as me because they didn't give you soft, meaty food, either.

Person Soup

[inferior water]

Ruru the Cat here.  I've mentioned before that I like my water warm.  People keep trying to offer me old water (water that's been sitting out for longer than a few hours?  Just ew.)  People also offer me cold water (water that starts out cold is just not my thing.  Other cats can dig it, but that shows they just don't get it.)  No, no.  Water has to be warm, preferably hot, but food should never be because it may burn my tongue.  Don't ask me to explain.  That's just how it is.  I'm a cat, so I don't need to explain anything.  I do it because you obviously need the extra help.  I'm nice like that.

[Mmm.  That's the good stuff.]

But the best of all water is right in the tub.  And we're not talking fresh, hot water.  No no.  That's the inferior stuff.  I'm talking the warm water with an actual person in it.   No water is better.  I can't explain why.  The other cats look at me like I'm crazy.  Toothless, my brother and the only tolerable cat in the house, likes fresh water, dripping right out of the sink.  It's okay, but it's not how I like it.  Cass is often standing behind him, waiting for that dripping water.  Maya will take whatever water is presented.  No accounting for taste.  But I know the real stuff is the stuff with person in it.  I'll stand on the edge of the tub and wait for a person to get a clue, that I want the water dribbled out onto the edge of the tub, or if it's high enough, I'll lap it up right from their arm or near their arm.   Sometimes, she thinks she's sneaky and fills the bowl with fresh warm water from the tub.  Don't try to trick me.  I know the difference.  I can't describe how happy person soup makes me.  It's truly the best.  You should try it.  It's amazing. 

Yes, I am a predator.  How'd you know?  And stop looking at me like that.

Incredible Disappearing Dog

[The annoying thing in my house.]

Ruru the Cat here.  So I've been whining for almost a year about this dog that randomly appeared in my house.  She loves to chase me around.  She loves to steal MY dog food.  She'll steal my cat food and even my litter box leavings given half a chance.  She uses hands that should always pet me.  I've never trusted her because she frequently goes to that scary place called OUTSIDE.  It's a bad, cursed place.  A haunted, nightmarish place.  The few times I've been there, I've only had this opinion confirmed.  There is SNOW out there (sometimes).  There's WATER falling from the sky.  There are BIGGER, SCARIER dogs.  It's just not a good place.  And she willingly and happily goes there several times a day.  This does not speak well of her character.  She's been a serious problem child from the moment she stepped foot in MY house. 

[Me, blissfully content to have lost one dog.]

Well, I think she's gone.  I can't know this for sure because she was just here today.  But I've looked everywhere.  All her stuff is gone.  Her person is nowhere to be seen.  I'm pretty sure I overheard my people say her person was moving out.  I scarcely dare hope this means I don't have to deal with that DOG again.  But wouldn't it be wonderful?  Okay, so occasionally, my fuzzy throw rug dogs around here bark or chase me around.  But I can mostly slap them down or hiss them into submission if they oppose my dominance of the dog food and all the hands and treats I want.   If that Cali is gone, I can go back to my rightful place as queen of the house.  Now, if only all the cats would stop snickering when I say that and bow down like they should.  

Plush Box Wars

[That dog has the nerve to sleep in her own bed.]

Ruru the Cat here.  Humph.  My people brought this really awesome thing in the house, and I haven't even gotten to touch it.  It's this plushy-looking box, the perfect spot for a cat to catch a snooze.  It maybe even is meant to be a bed.  It's even my size.  Here's the problem: everybody else, loves it, too.  Even worse, I think it's meant to be the dog's bed.  She's the one who is there most often. 

[It should be mine, I tell you.]  

Come on, people.  Something this wonderful should not be a gift for a dog.  Or even another cat.  But every time I look at it or decide I want to try it out, someone else is in it.  Sometimes, it's that dumb dog.  Sometimes, it is Cass.  I wouldn't mind catching Cass there.  She's afraid of me.  I can just chase her away. 

[Gah.  Now, I really can't use it.]  

But most often, it's Toothless or Maya.  I don't have the heart to chase away Toothless.  He's the one other cat in the house I like (other than me, of course).  But if it's Maya, she's mean.  She thinks she owns the house just because she's been here longer than anyone else.  Seriously?  It should be my bed.  But I haven't had the chance to so much as sit in it because everybody else seems to think it's theirs.  It's just not fair.  I'm the cute one. 

Dogs=Insanity

[This does not make sense to me at all. She keeps doing this.]

Ruru the Cat here.  The dogs have been acting and--what's worse--smelling weird all week.  The nutty little girl dog has been chasing around the big(ger) boy dog this week.  She keeps shaking her tail in his face and jumping on him.  She even does the fanny shake to cats.  Then, the dogs'll play like puppies.  She keeps yelping anytime he walks away to hide from her.  I don't blame him.  All that weirdness would drive me nuts.

[The bath to get rid of the nasty smell.]

And the smell.  The SMELL.  It smells so nasty around here, so much like rank dog, that I just wanna chop off my nose.  I have no idea what's going on, but I wish it would stop.  It helped when my people gave her a bath but not much.  I was hoping the nuttiness would wash off, but it didn't work.  Usually, I disapprove of anyone getting a bath because it could rub off on me.  But this time, I would clap my hands if I had them.

[The almost-cute Dodger.]

The thing is needy to begin with.  I didn't quite understand why we needed ANY dog from the beginning.  But we had two.  And we seem to have a constant revolving door on the second one.  We've always had the dumb little throw rug, Dodger.  He's cutish in a DOG sort of way, if dogs could be said to be cute.  He's still here, but we always seemed to be getting a new second dog.

[My second or third mom, Daisy.]

When I was a kitten, we had this weeniehuahua, this bossy little smart dog whose job seemed to be to dump trash and steal stuff.  But she was good to me, so I didn't mind her.  She snuggles us kittens and watched over us to make sure no one hurt us.  I liked her.  It was funny the way she burrowed under blankets like she thought she was a rabbit or something.  But suddenly, my people gave her away because my person wanted a puppy instead of a little dog, who they said acted too much like a cat.  That's a double insult, comparing dogs to cats in any way and pretending that's a bad thing.

[Not a bad piece of doggie-shaped furniture)

Then, we got Harmoni.  She was okay.  Kind of insane in a puppy way.  Always busy.  But then my people started freaking out and crying and stuff about her.  I guess she died.  She was okay.  Kind of a bummer but not really because we were never close.

[Busy Izzy was HUGE]

When it sucked was when Harmoni was gone.  My people showed up with a giant mutt who seemed to think she was a lap dog.  Thing was all over the place, running around, drinking water out of the hose, eating everything and pooping everywhere.  What a NIGHTMARE!!!  That's what I call DOG with a capital D.  It was better than catnip when they gave her away.

[Twixie was okay for a dog.]

Then, they got Twixie.  He seemed to be shy and sweet at first, but then he started bullying everyone, chasing me around, and worse yet, eating all the dog food.

[Silly and in-your-face Cali]

It wasn't long before Cali showed up from somewhere. Still haven't figured out how to get rid of her because she chases me, too.  I could treat Twixie like furniture, but Cali won't be ignored.  I guess by the end, I didn't mind Twixie so much.

[Most obnoxious thing Snow does most of the time is let my person hold her.]

This little one, Snow, doesn't chase me around.  She's even smaller than me.  She doesn't seem to eat much of the food from the main dish, either.  She has her own dish.  So she's not stealing my back up food.  If it weren't for this sudden insanity and all the smells, I could almost pretend she wasn't here, which is exactly how I like dogs, next to invisible.  Now, if I can make her and Dodger the rest of the way invisible and wipe out doggie smells, my house would be the perfect feline paradise.