Refocusing on What's Important: Me

[This is NOT my house. Don't go there. I'm NOT there. Focus, people.]

Ruru the Cat here. My people keep letting the new neighbors into my house. I don't get it. Things were so peaceful (other than the jerky cats in the house, which is all of them but me). Now, they come here a lot and take up the spaces cats are supposed to occupy. And they're SCARY. They like to TOUCH us. And they don't even know us. What kind of monsters are these? 

[Not me. Stop losing focus. Source.]

Next thing you know, these neighbors will be bringing in their own cats, and my people will touch them and smell like them. I don't know what I can handle that kind of stress. These are my people, my hands, that are supposed to touch and play with ME, not other cats. There's too much competition around here as it is. 

[Where your focus should be: ON ME.]

You see, this is the way everyone's life should be focused: on me. Look how sweet and kind and pretty I am. And my fur is so silky and smooth. You're supposed to pet ONLY ME or ELSE.  Because I'm so nice, I will let you. I may even pur for you. I seriously don't understand why my people need anyone else.  

Burrowing Mammal

 

[Crazy kitten looking to get under the blanket.]

Ruru the Cat here. The kitten, the only cat smaller than me, is weird. Thing is crazy. Varya seeks out blankets and burrows under them. How does she not feel trapped?  

[Aggressively friendly.]

I don't understand her need to be aggressively friendly with cats and people. However, I can see her passion for boxes. Any box, any time. That's valid. Sitting in my drawers in the bathroom? Technically, they're mine. I claimed them years ago. But it makes sense she likes them. 

[The Face of Insanity]

But hiding under blankets? I can see that would be warm. But how do they pet you? How do you escape if a scary cat comes along to growl at you?  How does this even work? It doesn't make sense to me, but there she is, every night, climbing under my person's mom's fuzzy blanket. I just don't get it. We had a DOG that used to do that. Maybe this cat is actually a dog. It would almost make her make sense. 

A cat's holiday season

 

[Casper the Friendly Poltergeist, AKA Dude, stealing my tree.]

Ruru the Cat here. Just haven't felt like blogging recently. All the other cats have stolen any holiday fun this year. Dude hopped in the tub the tree came out of to make sure it was all his from the first minute. I didn't even have the chance to sniff the box. 

[MY tree.]

Since then, he made it clear my favorite green jungle gy]m (also called the Christmas tree) is all his. He's the one that gets to attack the dangly sparklies until one after the other hits the floor, some of them shattering on impact. That should be MY job. But he's twice my size. 

[This wrap should be mine--source]

I hide in my room, so everybody else gets to feast on the food. I try to come out and get chased off. One-eyed-wonder, Phoenix, gets to the wrap before I can, shredding everything and attacking the empty roll. 

[What I should be doing with my holiday--killing stuff. Source.]

I didn't even get to knock the lights and the glowing Christmas cat decoration out of the window. I'm not sure who did that, but it wasn't me. 

[My Christmas--note nothing to kill. Sadly.]

It's just not fair. I didn't get to destroy ANY Christmas stuff this year. I guess I'll go pout in my people's room and leave them a hairball and a dead mouse. At least I can get in on Christmas giving. 

Selfish with My Turkey

 

[MY Turkey. Source]

Ruru the Cat here.  I swear people around here don't seem to get that I'm the center of the world. They had something around here called "Thanksgiving." I sat in the kitchen, specifically ordering some of that turkey meat, and my person's mom gave me only two or three little bits, ALMOST nothing. Honestly. She gave nearly as much to all the other fluffies staring at her and begging, their dorsal tails sticking out of the water. As if they deserve as much as me. 

[MY Whipped Topping: source]

Then, my person's dad had pie with a big pile of whipped, fluffy white stuff. CREAM. And he kept most of it to himself. And when he tried to give me a small taste, he kept missing, and it would drop to the ground. Others would get it. I'm not that small a cat. You should be able to find my mouth with your food pretty easily.  

[MY Rolls: source]

I had to STEAL the rolls from the table because they didn't offer them to me. Well, I bit through the bag and ate some of them while Varya was helping herself to the bread on the counter. But that was MY bread. The dogs got the empty plates because my people didn't save them all for me. What is wrong with my people?  Where's the proper worship? Seriously. 

Happy Birthday to the Wolf Weasel

[Happy Wolf Weasel]

Ruru the Cat here. Sadly, my people decided my birthday wasn't the only one my people celebrate. Varya, our local "wolf weasel" (as my people call the only cat around here smaller than me), got a birthday party, too.  They showered her with catnip mice. Why didn't they do that with me?  They just gave me catnip. She rubbed them all over her face like some crazed maniac. Instead of letting me play with them, so I could do the same. 

[This game confuses me.]

I did get to participate in one of the party games, but I didn't get it. They put one of us at a time in the bathtub. I like the bathtub, but only when I sit on the edge and wait to drink some person soup (the bathwater people are soaking in.) But it was wet and slimy and uncomfortable, so I just wanted to leave. 

[Master hunters seeking and destroying crickets.]

Meanwhile, Dude knew just how to dismember and swallow the crickets they put there. Varya grabbed one, jumped out of the tub, and moused it. She chased it around until it died a pathetic death then ate it. It was actually pretty funny.  But then again, she's a bug hunter, anyway. She'll leap into the air and catch a fly out of the air. That wolf weasel is nuts. 

So I don't get the point of celebrating any cats that aren't me. But I guess humans do weird things sometimes. Like days ending in Y. 

Spot Wars

 

[The new queen of MY room, Paige, in my spot, looming over my person.]

Ruru the Cat here.  I understand there are constant spot wars going on behind my person's closed doors. The cats who stole my whole room now fight over the preferred spots in there. I heard the desirable spots are the little pathetic cat tree (also called "the nest"), the shelf, the bed (especially the fuzzy blanket), and the chair. Nobody wants to share unless they're in a warm, fuzzy mood. 

[That beast in the nest, guarding the door, so I can't come in.]

But let's get serious. We cats, in the middle of a turf war, are rarely in a warm, fuzzy mood. Mostly, they just glare at each other, but they'll also come to blows and fight. Wish I could be there to see it, but they all took MY SPOT in moving in there. Going in there freaks me out because it no longer smells like me. 

[Happy former kittens, chilling in my spot, on my bed.]

The most desirable spot is looming over our person, so she'll pet everyone BUT ME. The biggest of them all is Paige, so everyone else tends to defer to her. She'll wag her tail and rub her face on everything with excitement every time MY PERSON touches her. As if she has more right to it than I do. Second most desirable is snuggling my person's mom because she has hands and knows what to do with them. That used to be MY SPOT. 

[How it should be--me getting all the attention.]

I never once got to sit in the nest, and the shelves are all new since I got booted when the kittens started showing up there. Because I HATE kittens.  They always take my spot. This time, they took my spot in a big way. Does no one get that I'm the queen of the world?  At least I found a new room to claim. Now, if only the humans would recognize it as mine and find somewhere else to go.  

Deworming is Amazing!

[Me, chilling where it's safe with no cats.]

Ruru the Cat here.  It's been a while.  I've just been hiding out in the room, ignoring everyone.  It's usually better that way. Less dangerous because everyone's out to get me, even the kitten now. Blogging gets hard when I have to deal with everyone driving me nuts.

[Me, waiting for my dewormer.]

But out of the blue, I started to smell a fabulous odor, soft, meaty cat food.  I knew everyone was getting it but me.  I heard them, all getting that yummy food.  I heard someone say something about deworming.  It didn't sound like fun.  Anytime someone says something that sounds like medicine, I start to think pain and vets. I wasn't sure whether to be envious or not.  

[Ah, yeah. That's the stuff.]

Then, my person's mom came in with my dish of that soft, meaty cat food. Oh, it was good. There was kind of a weird taste to it.  I wonder if that was the dewormer.  But it didn't matter.  I'd die for that yummy cat food. Okay, maybe not. But I sure would kill for it. Cuz I'm a cat. We kill to eat. Dang, that's good.