MY Spot!!!!

[Me in my spot.  Not yours.  Mine.]

Ruru the Cat here.  So I figured out my person does this wonderful thing sometimes, which I like.  I wish I could get her to do it all the time.  She lays her jacket across her bed, so I can lay on it.  When it's like that, it's MY spot.  I want it, so it's mine.  Twixie tried to sneak in there and steal it from me, but I tell you it's MINE.  I had to stare him down and steal it back. 

[MY SPOT!!!]

My person's mom is usually awesome.  I'll sit there in her spot and wait for her to pet me and rub my tummy just right.  But when my spot is there, I want no attention.  Just the spot that smells like me and my person.  I'll let her pet me but only if she'll do it on my spot. 

[Okay, fine, pet me, but don't take me out of my spot.  This means you, too, stinking fluff butt Twixie in the background.  I see you eyeing my spot.]

Even my person was unacceptable that day.  I fought her to get back to MY spot, so Twixie couldn't sneak in there and steal it.  It's MINE, mine, and only mine.  When my person thought it was funny to bunch up that jacket, I stood wondering what to do without my spot.  Then, they put it back, so I could take it again.  I tell you it's MY SPOT. 

Traitor!

[Proof!]

Ruru the Cat here.  I've been telling you about this obnoxious dog that's come in to take over my whole house.  Here we were, living just fine with four cats and two throw rugs that bark and let us eat their food.  Well, all that changed when the beast above showed up and steals their food instead.  She drinks their water and steals our loves and barks at us.  Barks!  At us!  Given half a chance, she'll even chase us around and steal our treats.  I stay the heck out of the living room when she's around. 

[They look wayyyy too cozy here.]

Well, the other day, I saw it.  My brother, my VERY OWN BROTHER, turned traitor.  He walked right up to that beast that steals my dog food (and my cat food, given a chance) and sat RIGHT NEXT TO HER.  Seriously.  I get that Toothless is sweet to pretty much everyone in fur.  He can't stand any humans but his and will fight with claws out to get out of any human's grasp if it's not the right human.  But he has low standards as far as four-legged friends are concerned.  Clearly none at all because he actually snuggled that smelly, farty, snorty DOG.  I just can't believe this.  My own brother.  He snuggled her for several minutes of his own choice.  No one made him sit there.  I just don't get it.  Come on, Toothless.  How could you?  Soon, you'll start dating her.  "Dogs and cats living together, mass hysteria."  I heard that on a show once, but I never thought it would happen here.  Now it has!  The world is coming to an end!

The Joys of Misery

[Me, feeling like crap.]

Ruru the Cat here.  I've been feeling crappy all week.  I can't breathe very well.  I keep coughing and wheezing.  My people say something about "hairball."  All I know is I feel like something the cat might drag in, but I'd have to kill her because she'd be making me move.  Besides, I don't like any cats but Toothless.  The rest are jerks.  Just look at last week's blog.  I can't stand cats I don't know, and I don't like most of the ones I do know. 

[Extra love.  I can handle that.]

But here's the nice part of it all.  My person has been wrapping me up in a blankie and holding me and petting me.  Her mom has, too.  And she's really good at rearranging my ears and rubbing my belly and everything.  I've been coddled and fed extra treats all week.  I imagine it has something to do with this "hairball" stuff, whatever that is.  I don't like that they keep hunting me down to shove sludge in my face.  Sometimes, I'm in the mood for it, but I'm often not.  Either way, they make me take it.  They call it "meds," whatever that means. 

The important thing, really, is that they give me extra treats and a lot of love.  Maybe this feeling crappy business isn't so bad, after all. 

It Sucks!

[The very face of evil.  Look away!]

Ruru the Cat here, finally in charge of my stinking blog again.  Can't believe that nutty dog, taking over my blog like that last week.  Well, I can tell you one thing: this blog is MINE.  And this week, we're going to talk about the horror called (cue scary music) VACUUMS.   I no sooner hear that loud roar then my whole body shudders, and I have to hide.  I'm sure it's going to get me, even through the closed door.  I will claw my way through anyone holding me back from flight.  The thing is a MONSTER!!!  So, I thought I'd survey all the rest of the pets in the house to prove with unbiased scientific evidence that all vacuums should be destroyed and thrown away then destroyed some more. 

[Dogs, help me here.]

Me: Okay, Twixie.  How evil do you think the vacuum is?  
Twixie:  I don't like it.  It scares me.  But not as much as that person over there!  Barkbarkbarkbark!  

Okay.  That was kind of helpful but not really.  Maybe the next interview will prove my point: EVERY animal in the house thinks the vacuum should go, so the people should listen up. 

Me: Hey, Dodger.  
Dodger:  Cat?  Barkbarkbarkbark!  
Me:  Shut up, idiot.  It's just me.  I'm here every day.  Should they throw the vacuum away or destroy it?  
Dodger: What's a vacuum?  Cat!  Barkbarkbarkbarkbark!

Gah.  Dogs are not being very helpful.  Okay, dog kind, you have one more shot to prove you're not totally useless.  Come on, don't fail me. 

Me: Calli, should they shoot the vacuum or take an axe to it?  
Calli: I love vacuums!  They're so much fun!  I can kill them and chew on them and kill them some more.  Then, I can chew on the hose and on the face, and I love vacuums!  

[Evidence dogs have a weird relationship with vacuums and shouldn't be trusted.]

Wow, that dog has issues.  A vacuum is not a toy.  It's a fiend from the eternal abyss.  Dogs just don't get it.  Okay, let's try the denizens of the boy's bedroom.  Here's your chance to prove you're a higher life form than a dog.   

[One of the inhabitant's of the boy's room.  No accounting for taste.]

Me: Okay, there are three reptiles and a mammal in here. How quickly should the vacuum die?  
Bearded dragon:  Pardon me, but that is a biased question and fairly unscientific in nature.  
Leopard gecko:  Vacuum?  Never heard of it.  
Ball python: Doesssn't matter to me.  I don't have earsss.  Got any ratsss? 
Hedgehog:  Scary predator!  Teeth!  Claws!!!  Gonna eat me!!!  Scary scary scary scary scary!!!  Is it gone?  

Wow, these guys are even more useless than the first set.  Teach me to trust reptiles and whatever that cactus rat thing is supposed to be.  At least I know the cats agree. 

[No matter where we sit, it's always there.  Lurking.]

Me:  Okay, guys.  Tell me how you feel about the vacuum.  
Maya:  Hate it.  Almost as much as I hate you.  
Me:  Thanks.  Feeling the love.  Remind me to steal your treats. Cass? 
Cass:  You're scaring me.  What was the question? 
Me:  Focus.  Vacuum.  
Cass.  Bad.  Now, go away.  And don't scratch me.  
Toothless:  It definitely has to go.  No question.  Are you gonna eat that? 

See?  All the animals in the house whose opinion matters agree that the vacuum needs to be launched into outer space and blasted with a ray gun or whatever it is aliens on tv shows do to monsters.  It's unanimous.  The vacuum has to go.