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. 

An Appropriate Box for an Evil Cat

 

[Where this cat belongs.]

Ruru the Cat here. I don't much like the cats around here, mostly because I don't like other cats. Worst of all is the most recent kitten, the one who never grew up. She's still smaller than me. or so I tell myself. But she doesn't mind being small. She's got all the confidence of large cat, but even the resident grumpy old lady cat finds her endearing. Not me. She sneaks up behind me and swats me just for fun. I've never seen a more appropriate box than this one for that cat. 

[Varya's horrible rumor.]

Well, this villainous cat, Varya, has been telling me a most nightmarish rumor, which is that we may get more kittens around here soon. I can only hope this is yet more lies she's telling me just to be evil. She told me she heard it from one of our people. I can't believe our people would be that terrible to me. Okay, I can believe it because they've done it before. Multiple times. I just don't WANT to believe it. So I won't. 

Monsters!

 

[Monsters!]

Ruru the Cat here. Whew, The monsters are gone. I didn't even tell you they were here, and now, they're gone. I just couldn't handle the trauma of having those monsters around. That's right. My foolish people brought home more kittens. I'm just glad there were only two. In the past, my people would sometimes bring home four or five or six. Seriously. Where is that kitten factory, and how can we burn it down?

[No! It's in my house!]

I didn't have to see them that often because I hid in my people's room. At night, when I wasn't in there, the kittens were locked away in a separate room. Still, I could SMELL them. Their smells were everywhere. And I had to face them only once or twice. Which is once or twice too many. 

[The proper reaction to one of the monsters.]

The smart cats in my house had the same reaction I did: why are these little beasts in my house? Most of them reacted that way. Even though I don't like the other cats in my house, at least they're smart enough to know how to react to an invader. 

[Not a proper response to the monsters.]

Meanwhile, the youngest among us at first gave that proper response.  But she actually warmed up to them. She BOOPED herself on one of them. Who does that? They can attack you, crawl on you, decide to move in! Making friends with monsters is a dangerous business. I tried it at least once, then we got stuck with that kitten. Friends don't let friends make friends with kittens. Just say no to kittens. Now, they'll be in my nightmares for weeks. 

The Things that Should Be Mine

 

[Me with MY toy mouse.]

Ruru the Cat here. Okay. Let's remember whose house this is. My people seem to think it's their house, which means they can choose to share it with whomever they want. As I said before, they've let all sorts of random animals in here. Cats and dogs. Worse yet, kittens and puppies. Bunnies. Fish. Guinea pigs. Rats. Lizards. Snakes. A baby goat. Not kidding. My humans take lots of liberties with my house. But we must remember whose house it is. If an awesome gift comes into my house, like the toy mouse above, it should be mine. 

[An upstart Wren with one of my toys.]

That means toys that come in my house should be all mine. Not Wren's, not Varya's, not Dude's, not any of the other seven cats' toy. It's mine. Here, my people show a total disregard for that. They let this upstart play with MY toy mouse. This happens a lot. 

[I don't want this one.]

Okay, so there are exceptions. This one with glowing eyes and sharp teeth is NOT my toy. I don't want it. Varya can have this one. It's too creepy. I just don't see anything good can come from sharp-toothed toys. I think I'd have nightmares. 

[Varya eating my snacks.] 

The snacks should be mine, too. I don't often want popcorn like this. But I do want the bread and all cat treats and the fishie crackers. I was here (almost) first. Maya doesn't count. She's too grumpy and isn't me. And we can ignore the fact that Chonk, my brother, got brought in three days before I was. I am and always have been more important. But it should be my choice whether I want the snacks. Varya shouldn't--but often does--get first pick of the snacks. I'M supposed to be the one who gets to jump on the table and fish in the fishie cracker box, not Varya. 

[See that toy I had above? Note how a few minutes later, it was stolen by Dude.]

But here we are in a sad world wherein I don't get all the toys and the snacks because I have to hide in a bedroom to avoid getting beat up on. What a sad, sorry world you unfortunate souls live in where you don't get to see me in all of my glory. You are stuck with only photos of me. Oh, and you only have lesser cats, less than me because aren't they all? Giving them the toys that should go to me. This world is just not fair, for you or for me. But especially for me. 

Where'd He Go?

 

[My friend, Dodger.]

Ruru the Cat here. It's no secret I don't love dogs. Or cats. Or anyone with fewer than two hands eager to pet me. But Dodger was different. He was actually NICE. He mostly made for great body heat and a fine piece of furniture. He's been around as long as I can remember, just being there. He'd stand by and let me eat his food. He'd let me sit on him if I was cold. He was just nice. To me. Which is kind of weird because most of the four-legged beasts around here chase me around, attack my tail just for kicks, or push me away to steal my dog food. But Dodger didn't. 

[Dodger put up with a lot.]

He was strong and happy for a long time. He gave the people around me puppies, three living ones and one that wasn't. He even tolerated their insanity when they were jumping all over him and chewing on them. He'd growl at them to say back off, but then, he'd pretend not to notice when they played with his tail. They all kind of look like him if you squint the right way. 

[Dodger put up with Bean.]

He even tolerated Bean. And that's kind of a big deal because that eternal puppy is a little monster. All of the cats, even the ones a lot bigger than him, kind of let him have his way. We even sneak around him when it comes to getting love from our favorite person. Dodger and Bean would often fight over the food or...I don't know. Dog things. Not sure what all that growling was about. But Dodger was even nice to the mini monster named Bean. 

[Dodger endured a lineup of kittens.]

And kittens. He put up with those little beasts as well. I sure wouldn't, but he did. He really brought it on himself, I guess, by not putting them in their place. They could climb all over him, and he just took it. Everyone seemed to love him because he loved everyone, including people I can't stand, the notorious strangers. Even when those strangers are toddlers. 

[He had to be hauled around.]

Three or four years ago, my people started saying Dodger was dying. But they got that crazy idea from the demon called the vet, so I didn't trust it. He was fine. He was just there. Then, one day, something was wrong. He didn't seem to want to eat. I would have gotten more food except the other cats got to it first. Two and a half weeks, ago, he stopped being able to climb or even walk well. He started to stumble. Then, he stopped being able to do anything but be hauled around. 

[He stopped responding.]

Then, he was only breathing and staring out into space. Then, he was gone. I checked. I sat on him. He was hard and had no body heat, even under the blanket. Then, my people talked about putting him in the ground. I can't imagine that would be very pleasant at all. I don't like to go outside. I certainly wouldn't like to be under the cold, snowy ground. And he hasn't come back. The dogs always go out, but they always come back. The kittens would go out and not come back, but I always heard they'd found a new place to be. I've heard the word "death," mostly about animals I didn't care about. Or my people's little human kitten, their baby, but that was long before I joined them. The humans sure seem to produce a lot of tears about this kind of thing, including for Dodger. But this is the first time it has become real to me. I guess he's really not coming back. I'm not sure how to feel about that. So I guess I'll go and take a nap. 

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. 

Picking Friends

 

[Humans and dogs. Why?]

Ruru the Cat here. I've said it before. Humans have weird tastes in friends. They like dogs and other cats. Why? It mystifies me. I tolerate the dogs because they are throw rugs who happen to own body heat. But to consider them friends?  Not me. 

[My brother, the lump.]

The only cat I tolerate, and that only sometimes, is my brother. He's okay. Kind of a lump, but he doesn't attack me or chase me around like they do. 

[Other cats. Ew.]

Other cats, however, are the very devil. Especially kittens. They don't respect your dignity at all. They ATTACK you and steal your spot and your dog food you stole fair and square. So glad we no longer have any of those nasty pests around here. 

[Humans. Yes.]

Humans, however, not only have body heat but also hands. And no claws or sharp teeth. Humans are really great for a snuggle. But not for their taste in friends. Want more evidence? 

[Exibit C. Just no.]

Tails can be friends. I'll chase them for hours. I can even attack it, and it won't attack back. I can snuggle it, and it even has body heat. Tails are great. I can hang out with pipe cleaners and tails. Long, skinny things without sharp teeth. Pipe cleaners make good prey. Snakes CANNOT be friends. To anyone. I don't even want them for prey because they have teeth. Humans, why do you make friends with useless animals and...whatever a snake is? I just don't understand humans and their friendships at all. If you had a tail, you'd understand what a friend they can be. Just go get a tail. Then, you'll have a best friend. What are you still doing here? Get to it. 

Alien Invasion!

[Saucy little monsters invading my house.]

Ruru the Cat here. My humans are deeply disturbed. That much is clear by the enemies they allow in their very house. In the past, they've allowed kitten after kitten in my house without asking my permission. KITTENS. Like the kind that don't know any better than to attack me. Eat my food. Ignore my orders. You know, TERRIBLE THINGS. I thought few things were worse than kittens. 

[Saucy bigger monsters.]

But then, my humans would allow DOGS into my house. I'm not talking about our furniture dogs, the little throw rugs that sometimes eat my dog food. The nerve. Mostly, they provide body heat and comic relief to an otherwise peaceful existence. No, I mean real DOGS, like the scary yetis, smelly mutts, a big dog who has been visiting recently and who even pooped in my basement. Once again, I thought my humans couldn't stoop any lower. 

[WHAT IS THIS THING?]

But no, they found something else to bring in the house. I don't even have words for this thing. It has little horns that tell me it's dangerous. It has these weird eyes with RECTANGLES in them. Rectangles, I tell you. Who has those? It also has these legs that don't quit. Instead of ending in respectable toe beans like everyone around here has, they end in these sharp things that look deadly. They're pointy and mean-looking. Hooves, I think they're called. And the thing is ALL LEGS. There's a little body there, somewhere, but I imagine the thing can really stomp and kick us. It looks like a scary weapon more than a living thing. And they kept giving it milk that smelled good and, therefore, should have gone to me. 

[No, I mean it. What is that thing?]

I just don't understand what my people are thinking. It's utter nonsense that they can let these monsters in my house without a royal decree of some sort, signed by me. My people just don't understand the rules of the world because I make them, and they clearly lack understanding of how to sue for my permission. Honestly. What is their problem?