Going to a Better Place

 

[It may be it's on the cat tree, have sharp teeth, and eat rodents but is this python really a cat? Yeah, no.]

Ruru the Cat here. My people have been unnecessarily obsessing about this stupid living rope. Yeah, they call it a snake and act like it matters, but does it really? It doesn't have fur, four legs, or anything that makes it matter. You know, like cats matter. Well, like I matter because, after all, the other cats and dogs don't matter as much as I do. Humans try to matter, and they do a good job as long as they're taking care of my needs. But no one around me seems to quite understand priorities. 

[Dude and Roswell waiting for their nonexistent turn with the rat.]

Anyway, so my people have been worried about the snake not eating rodents. Why don't they worry that I don't get enough rodents in my diet? Why aren't they buying rodents and serving them up to me like I'm a royal? Okay, so if I don't get enough rodents, I can eat the boring kibble. I imagine he can, too. Why is it such a freak-out that Minion the Banana Ball hasn't eaten a rat for four months? I don't ever get fillet of rat. Wow, that sounds yummy. Can I have one? No? Dangit. See, my people were so worried that they bought him a live rat. But they didn't offer it to ME. See how bad their priorities are? We cats just had to salivate over a rat under glass while the snake was served then ignored this live one. Seriously?

[Off to a better place.]

Apparently, at his old home, Minion would eat well and be well taken care of. So, anyway, my people went on a trip a couple of days ago to take him back to his old home because my people couldn't get him to eat a rat, not a frozen tiny one, not a medium one, not a big one, not a living one, not any rat at all. What is his problem? I would have taken any of them. I could have spent a full hour or two or even three killing the rat, killing it again, playing with it, and killing it some more. Just think of the joy. What is wrong with this world that I didn't get my turn?

Everybody Having Christmas Fun but Me

 

[It used to be MY jungle gym]

Ruru the Cat here. The Christmas tree used to be my jungle gym. I'd be able to climb in and through it. Yes, I may have had some competition, but I'd get to spend a lot of time attacking and knocking over all the ornaments and knocking them to the ground. I also got to attack and kill the wrapping paper and all the presents. They were mine. Then, one younger cat after another started to crowd me out of all my favorite spaces. 

This was what it was like to greet the Christmas tree into the living room. Even the new little boy, Roswell, got to play with it. I guess that's because he's Dude's protege. And Dude, the big, scary panther in my house, has long since claimed the tree as his own. Only those Dude lets anywhere near his tree can kill it. 

[Roswell's first Christmas tree.]

Dude even let Roswell play with the ornaments once the tree was up. It just isn't fair. This used to be all my house. That used to be my jungle gym before the rest of the cats moved in and took it over. 

[Wren loves the ornaments.]

Dude even let other cats play with the ornaments. Before they went on the tree, that is. But he's often standing guard. I don't even try anymore. Mostly, I'm hiding either in my drawer in the bathroom or in my people's bedroom. 

[Roswell also got to help with wrapping paper.]

I didn't even get to help with the wrap. Everyone else got to shred the paper and play with the presents. It feels so good to shred it between my murder mittens. It's better still if there are presents inside. Can you think of anything more exciting than leaving a pile of gifts surrounded in shredded paper? I can't! Other than shredded paper filled with shattered bits of ornaments from my very own tree. Ahh. Paradise! It was so nice when I had a moment like that. 

But I haven't had a moment like that in years. Years! Such a tragedy. This is my holiday fun. No one else should have it but me. Can't we just send the cats away over the holidays? And leave them there afterward, wherever there is? 

Worse than Toddlergeddon...Toddlerpocalypse!

 

[Bringers of chaos worse than the kittens they hold.]

Ruru the cat here. I thought they were gone and would never come again. But here they were again...the toddler monsters. Except there were more of them. And they'd gotten bigger! They could chase cats faster! It was terrifying. Even hiding in my people's bedroom didn't feel safe. They were everywhere, all four or was it forty? Before, there were three, and they were half this size. The children...far worse than kittens because they could open doors with those fingers of theirs.

[The storm comes home]

It used to be a couple of full-sized humans would bring their little monsters here every few months or so. But then, we went two blessed years without them coming by. So, I thought the chaos was over for good. But I was wrong, oh, so wrong! Suddenly, without warning, they were back! And they brought a dog! 

[Bean and Angel--more chaos in every corner.]

I vaguely remembered their dog as the sister of our Bean, except she was twice his size. Huge, and everywhere. As if the kids weren't enough chaos. Suddenly, two quietish dogs became three yappy beasts bouncing everywhere. And the tongues! Everywhere! Threatening to lick whomever and eat all my dog food. 

[Plague of locusts taking over my house.]

They took over our house, the whole house, even Phoenix's special room (also known as the guest room/office). No corner went untouched with sticky fingers and chaos. Popcorn, spaghetti, brownies, insipid, ridiculous TV noises, paper shreds, crayons...everywhere they went, they streamed a loud, gooey mess. The rest of the cats fled to the basement. I hid where I usually do: in my people's room. We all knew we could fall prey to the locusts at any time. It was an absolute hurricane for a full 24 hours. 

[The storm blew over next door.]

Finally, they went next door to torture those poor kittens in that first picture, little ones who couldn't even flee or defend themselves. Then, I hear they chased around some poor goats and even a yeti (one of those big, white, smelly dogs I'm glad doesn't come over here). Fortunately, they brought their chaos there instead. Please tell me we can put up "No Toddlergeddon" signs. There has to be a way to toddler-proof this house, so they can't get in again. 

The Dreaded V-Word

[Do I look like I want to suffer like this?]

Ruru the Cat here. This has been a really rough few months. First, my family brought kittens into the house. Lots of kittens. So many kittens. At least ten, though it felt like a hundred. Then, they kept one. Seriously. There were already eight cats here. We did not need another. The youngest was four, but you could have fooled me. They all look and act like kittens. But it got worse. I know. Hard to believe. Those kittens brought eye infection into the house. Yeah, it sucked for everyone else when they all got that eye goo. But worst of all, they gave it to me. ME. I do not deserve this. I don't even like kittens. And that new one keeps trying to invade my room.  It's mine. Go away, Roswell.  

This grievous injury was apparently not enough torture. My people started putting burning eye drops into my eyes. I don't approve. I didn't want it, still don't want it. But when the drops didn't work, they stuck me in a box, that cage-like box. Such a nightmare. 

[The very devil.]

Was that enough torture? Of course not. They hauled that box into the scary world of OUTSIDE. Without my permission. And stuck me in a CAR. A CAR. Just no. The thing is loud and stinks. This is torture. There must be laws against this kind of horror. 

[Strapped down.]

They strapped my box into that stupid car, so there was no way I could escape. As if I've figured out a way outside the box. *Shudder.* I don't understand how this could possibly be a good idea. How do humans tolerate this kind of treatment? They even seem to like that, almost as much as the singularly dense dogs we have. 

[That horrible V word.]

The car was so loud and the box uncomfortable. But that was nothing on my getting hauled into the big building they call the vet. Yes, that's the V-word. VET. Not a good word. The thing is full of sounds of tortured souls and the smells of big, scary dogs and cats. I was sure I was gonna DIE. What did I do to deserve oo of this? 

[The chamber of horrors.] 

Then, strangers stared at me and talked about me as if I wasn't in the room. Even my person did this. It was just awful. I vaguely remember going a place like that before and getting poked and prodded and fed nasty stuff. I hope that was a false memory of nightmares past. I've heard some animals like me go into that place and never return. How can you humans live with yourselves, knowing there are nightmares like this in the world? 

[Back into the box]

Finally, we headed home. It was actually a relief to be stuck in the box and then into that loud, obnoxious car. At least it meant my ordeal was almost over. Now, I put up with that nasty, burning goo in my eye as long as I don't have to go back through all of that again. 

Planting a New Cat Tree

  

(My Old Cat Tree)

  Ruru the Cat here. Yeah, this happened a while ago, but I'm still grumpy about it. I've been grumpy about a lot of stuff, so I haven't felt like blogging. They took my favorite cat tree, where I felt at home and safe, and stuck it in the basement. Yeah, it's still there. Other cats can sit on it, but I always get surrounded by bullies down there. I am NOT going down there. Too many other-cat smells.

[The new cat tree. Not mine.]

Meanwhile, they put another cat tree upstairs. It already had other cat smells, which made it offensive. Like other-OTHER cat smells, ones of scary cats I never met. Plus, everyone else claimed a spot on it before I could. Especially those two remaining obnoxious kittens. They finally got rid of the seven. Took 'em long enough. But one of them only comes and goes. I keep hearing he's supposed to move away forever, but who knows? Forever hasn't come yet. So, he keeps coming back and tearing up my living room with the kitten who, from what I hear, has moved in. ANOTHER kitten. Seriously. Are eight not enough for you? We have to have nine or ten? And they've pretty much claimed the new cat tree. 

[Kittens: the root of most of my woes.]

I watched Dude try to climb on it and not find any space for his big fat butt. It was hilarious. The whole cat tree wobbles with his weight. Which is another reason I don't like the new cat tree. But no one asks my opinion for anything around here. If they had, they would never have invited more kittens in. The dumb kittens who gave everyone eye infection, which just spread to me recently. It was fine when everyone else had it, but now I have it. Seriously. New cat trees. Kittens. Eye infection. I'm too old for all of this.  

It's Raining Kittens

 

[Monsters]

Ruru the Cat here. As if one set of three little monsters wasn't enough. My people brought in SEVEN more. SEVEN. I don't know if you're aware of this, but seven monsters is a lot worse than having three. But it gets worse. My people never got rid of two of the first three. I still hope they will. That means we eight sane(ish) cats were outnumbered by nine crazy kittens. 

[More monsters.]

Fortunately, my person has a neighbor caring for three of them, which means after a few days, we got down to six, so we cats are back to outnumbering the kittens. Still. My humans must be insane to bring those beasts in. They got goat milk, soft food, and all the good things I should be getting. It's just not fair. 

[Yet more.] 

The problem is that neighbor is only caring for those kittens. Which could mean we're under threat of a return to overwhelming numbers. I hear rumors that these kittens, like most of the others before them, have a place to go in a couple of weeks. A place that's not here. This is good. I hope that rumor is true. 

[ENOUGH ALREADY.]

It's not just the kittens crawling everywhere. It's that they're occupying the office, which should be Phoenix's. If she's not in her room at night, she's out where I get stuck being her "best friend." She thinks we're playing. She wants to chase me around and claw at me. This is not play. This is terrifying. She's HUGE. Like twice my size. 

[The one I'm worried may not leave.]

Okay. Enough with the kittens. No more kittens. Ever. I don't care which neighbor wants us to take in more of these clawing, ravenous, whiny beasties, even temporarily. I've raised enough of them. And strange to say, even though I'm such a wonderful cat, the ones I've raised all hate me. Six out of the eight really large cats in the house think I'm Satan because I happened to hate them when they were little. Now, they hate me now they're big. Strange how that works. Except Phoenix, but she's never been quite right in the head. The other one is the little old lady cat who hates everyone but Varya because Varya didn't give Maya the chance to stay a hateful, angry old biddy to her. Now, they're besties and joined in their hatred of me. Seriously. No more cats. No more kittens. Just none. 

The Monsters Have Come

[How much I love kittens.]

Ruru the Cat here. Dangit. That annoying cat, Varya, was right. My people brought home more kittens. I was hoping she was kidding, but she had way too much fun teasing me for me to have peace of mind. Then again, teasing me is one of her favorite hobbies. How can three little monsters be everywhere at once, making everything reek of them?

 

[Back when Phoenix the one-eyed wonder was a kitten.]

And with the way they took her room, I'm stuck coming face to face with Phoenix wayyy too often. Phoenix is that one-eyed cat who thinks we're best friends. We are NOT best friends. She's big and scary and tries to play with me. She doesn't even know how to cat. Dude the panther-sized cat has tossed her in the bath water when she hasn't dipped her own tail in, as if she's not aware it's even there. Why do my people need her again? They have me. I mean, I haven't figured out why my people have any other cats, let alone the dogs. All anyone needs is me. 

[The Three Little Monsters eating MY food.]

And now, there are those silly kittens. The kittens get better food than me, more attention than me, and have been allowed to get way too close to me and even breathe my air. It's my air. I got to it first. Please tell me they're leaving again and soon. Do they not know kittens become cats? I don't think I can take any more cats taking up permanent air and food from my house. Get rid of those monsters soon. 

Doggie Fieldtrips I Don't Envy

 

[As far from home as I want to get--the living room.]

Ruru the Cat here. I would tell you why I haven't written in a while, but cats don't give up their secrets. So I don't leave the house. Ever. I don't want to. It's scary out there. There are monsters that killed my brother. There are monsters that would be happy to kill me, flying monsters, rolling monsters with engines, fluffy monsters. I hear about them but don't want to meet them, myself. I've only ever left the house against my will. But the dogs will often run out of the house like it's an exciting thing. As I've said before, dogs are nuts. 

[Our house panther/bully.]

Often, the dogs just run out back. Sometimes, they go on walks. On a LEASH. And they LIKE it. It makes absolutely no sense. For a while, my people scammed Dude into thinking he was a dog and got him to go out on a leash. Soon enough, he figured out he was a cat. Now, he's a panther who rules the house. No one would dare take him for a walk now. Though they sometimes grab him and hold him and pet him. It does NOT make him happy. He's four times my size. I have nothing to do with him if I can help it. 

[Leaving the house: it's a TRAP.]

Well, field trips can get worse. Much MUCH worse. One time, Bean left with a smile on his face, and it turned out they tricked him into a BATH. There are real reasons I don't go anywhere. I never can tell if they're going to trick me into a bath. *Shudder.*

[Bean at the Vet: Just no.]

Oh, but it can get worse still. Recently, they took both dogs out, and both were so happy. But then, they dragged them to the VET. I can't imagine a worse field trip than getting stabbed and poked and prodded like that. Let me tell you that going outside is just a bad idea. Friends don't let friends leave the house. If someone invites you to leave EVER, just say no. 

Books about Me!

[My Book. Ignore the others.]

Ruru the Cat here. Everyone knows I'm amazing. Well, I did an amazing thing and let my human do another amazing thing. I'm now in books! Yay for me! My person asked me to write a book about me, but she wanted me to pretend to be nicer. She said kids don't need to see me being rude. Come on! I am nice! The nicest thing I can do is show how great I am. You can read my book here for free for a few days. Just don't read the rest of the book. It's not about me, or not enough. It's about kittens (bad) and puppies (worse). Seriously. Why can't it all be about me?

[I'm the one on the right. The awesome one.]

My person kind of made up for it by making a book about me as a kitten. So, it's not exactly the real me. It's the fictional version of me, wherein I have sisters but not my real sisters. Cass is a cat who moved away. She wasn't so bad, but she didn't like me. Go figure. She was NOT my sister. Maya is actually the grouchy, grumpy old lady Halloween cat. I think my people said she's 13, but she seems so much older, like three thousand years. Our oldest sister in the book is Cookie. I don't know who that is except my people talk about this fictional cat named Cookie in their book, Doomimals. So my people somehow got everything about me wrong, except my amazingness. You can read an illustrated picture book about me here, also free for a few days. 

[The problem with this cover is it doesn't have me. Same with the book. The next one better.]

I'm super excited my fictional version will also be in Doomimals book 2. It's a "Three Little Kittens" version. Okay, so I don't know how I feel about being immortalized as a kitten. I don't LIKE kittens. I don't even remember much about my own kittenhood. But still, it's great that everyone will get to know about ME. 'Cuz I'm awesome. Don't forget it. 

The Higher the Better

[Looking down on my tree.]

Ruru the Cat here. I love my cat tree. It's comfy and, above all, puts me above everyone else, so I can be worshipped properly. But I've found something better. 

[Looking down at the little people in my kingdom.]

It's the shelf ABOVE my tree. I can sit between what people call hats and wait for the worship to pour in. I get to tower over all the taller cats, the dogs, and even the humans! It's the best thing ever. 

[Happy cat.]

You've never seen a cat so happy as one high up on a shelf. We get to keep our distance from anyone who could hurt us and observe the little people down below. Ah, that I could live on that shelf. Except there's no food. Or mice. Or hands to pet us. Okay, fine. I'll come down. But only if you worship me first. 

When They Sneak up on You

[Me, minding my own business on my cat tree.]

Ruru the Cat here. I've filed complaints with management (i.e. my slacker human staff) about this cat before, but it's really getting old. A certain cat around here is under the delusion that she's my very bestest friend in the whole wide world. Like I said, delusional. I have no best friends, at least among the four-legged variety. I'm a big fan of humans (except when they're being slackers) because they own hands. And body heat. See my last blog for the awesomeness that is the human hand used correctly. 

[Someone's inviting me to play. Just no!]

Well, this cat's name is Phoenix. She's half-blind, but you'd think she was all blind with the way she can't see I don't like her. She'll jump right out at me and say, "Play?" I know when she's proper type of attacking to kill because she'll growl and hiss at every cat that isn't me or Maya (her even better bestest friend supposedly. Poor thing.) She finds them terrifying because they're BIG. I guess I should take it as an insult that she likes me at all. 

[This is me, hiding, NOT inviting play.]

So I'll be sitting there, minding my own business. Taking a nap, taking in the glow of my kingdom as queen of the world, waiting for treats at the top of my cat tree, waiting to steal my dog food...it doesn't much matter what I'm doing. I'll be at peace when she comes right up to me and invites me to play with her. PLAY! Do I look like a kitten? I only play solitaire by killing my tail. Sometimes, I condescend to play slaps with my humans when they tap my tail respectfully, and I tap back, then they tap and so on. I'm pretty good at that one. But what I do NOT do is play with other cats. Like a kitten. It seems so childish and annoying. 

[Here she is, getting ready to pounce on ME.]

The only thing that makes it tolerable is I get the upper hand. Sometimes, I'll just watch her antics, tail wagging, but sometimes, she makes this impossible by actually touching me with those huge murder mittens of hers. It's TERRIFYING. Can someone please haul this cat away? Please? Tell me. What would you do to protect me from these attacks? 

Bookworm

 

[This weirdo loves books.]

Ruru the Cat here. You know how much I hate kittens? Hint: a lot. Well, we have this cat around here who just won't grow up. She's decided to remain forever small and just keep acting like a kitten. It's almost cute when she sticks pipe cleaners on Wren's head or talks to those stupid pipe cleaners. Or when she's messing with other cats. It's even cute when she messes with the humans' projects. She can't get enough of climbing in and around books. 

[It's not enough to snuggle the book. She has to burrow.]

But when she runs up my nice, safe cat tree and messes with me when I'm trying to nap? She's gone too far. Honestly. That Varya is a nut. A kitten who refuses to cat, even though she's almost two years old. You'd think a cat would mature out of that. But you can just see how she won't stop playing. She is chaos incarnate. 

[What even is this thing.]

All these doodles tell me my humans have been working on that book that has me in it again. I'm eager to have everyone talk about how amazing I am. But here, of course, the undersized cat/oversized kitten is messing with these pictures, including drawings of me. That kitten drives me nuts. 

The Point of a Hand

 

[The Purpose of hands.]

Ruru the Cat here. Human hands are great. They can pet me, feed me, give me water, bring me toys like catnip and mice with feathers, and play Slaps with my tail. Human hands are the best things ever. Wayyy better than other cats.

[Me Offering to Play]

Slaps, you ask? Yes, I love to play slaps. I haven't seen other cats do it. I don't know what's wrong with them. It's great. The human pats my tail, and my tail taps back. Then the human taps again. It could go on for quite a while. It's for when I'm not in the mood to let humans touch me in some other way. 

[How you should see your cat's belly. Source]

Because you HAVE to listen to a cat's body language. Seriously. Don't touch us when we're not inviting it, or you could get bear trapped. You'll be reminded of many cats' favorite love language: kill. Unless you're really not attached to that hand. Then, be my guest. 

[Clearly Misplaced Priorities]

However, humans seem to think hands have purposes other than taking care of cats. This is a totally wild delusion that makes no sense to me. How can there possibly be some other reason for those things to exist? You seem to think you should spend time with your hands playing with computers, pressing buttons, moving stuff around, hugging each other, or even scratching your nose. 

[Do the Right Thing. You Know You Want To.]

This clearly shows messed up priorities on your part. Come on. The purpose of everything is felinity. Particularly this cat. But I know most of you don't have access to me to show me the worship I deserve. So as a cold second choice, you should be petting your own cat. Stop wasting time on your computer, and go fulfill your purpose in this world NOW.