The jungle gym is back!

Ruru the Cat here.  Last year, I talked all about this most awesome thing that appeared in my house.  I mean, it was so COOL.  It was big and green and kind of looked like a tree but didn't smell like one.  But it was all covered in these fun shiny things that shook when you attacked them and then flew off in all directions if you swiped at them them hard enough.  Well, guess what?  It's back!  I don't understand why it disappeared to begin with, and I certainly don't know why it's suddenly here again.  People don't really make sense most of the time.

But regardless of why it's back, it is here, and it is so much fun!  The very first thing I did when it showed up was to climb up to the very top just to show that I could.  At first, it didn't have anything on it.  It was just there for hours and hours, all night and into the next day.  Then these glittery balls and strings and toys started appearing all over it.  I had to be patient and wait until people walked away to attack.  And then I had some competition because all the other cats in the house want to climb it, too.  I saw my people watching a video that looked kind of like me and what I want to do with the tree.  They laughed the whole time, but they don't seem to think it's so funny when I make stuff fly off in the same way:  video of my fantasy.  For any cats reading this, I highly recommend you talk your people into getting one of these things.  I wonder what it would take to get my people to keep it here forever.

The REAL Way to Act like a Cat

This is Ruru the Cat here, and I refuse to let my sister, Baby, guest blog.  She wants to tell you...

                                                    (Doesn't Baby even look snotty?)
                                 (No, I look FABULOUS and self-assured.)
                                                 
Okay, little humans of the world.  This is Baby, the only cat around here who knows how to really act like a cat.  All that crap Ruru filled you with last week?  It's all mouse droppings.  That's not how a proper cat behaves.  Let me give you some evidence she doesn't know what she's talking about:

                                                        (Me, being adored and loved.)
                         (Correction, Ruru looking sycophantic and misused.)


1. She lets people [especially her human] do whatever they want to her, whenever they want. Really?  It's an embarrassment. Seriously, a cat decides how and when and if she should be touched.  The cat is in charge and sets the rules.  If a cat [say, me, for instance] only wants to be touched for ten seconds to ten minutes once a day, first thing in the morning when said human is not fully awake yet then will attack any hand that dares touch the cat's fur outside that arbitrary and self-chosen time frame, that is a cat's prerogative.  Cats are queens.  Humans are staff, living at the mercy and whim of the cat.  Clueless, little Ruru hasn't figured this out yet. Humans don't yet understand they have been conquered by the great and mighty feline and are owned body and soul.  

             (Me, coincidentally sitting somewhere near the puppy.)
              (Ruru kissing up to that stupid mutt.)

2. She likes the dog.  I mean, really.  Letting humans take untoward liberties is one thing.  But while she's writing here on this blog about how much she can't stand that stupid puppy, she's secretly snuggling and licking the dog and sharing her food with it.  It's just not right.  Dogs are unworthy to be noticed, let alone played with.  They can't even catch mice.  Little Ruru.  Pathetic little sister.  I've told you before.  This is not how a cat behaves. 

Whew.  I finally got my computer back.  Don't mind baby.  She thinks she rules the house.  Don't tell her we call her Queen Beast behind her back.  

I heard that!  You will pay for ... 

I think you've heard just about enough from her.  Please disregard my sister.  She just doesn't get it.  There's nothing so nice as being loved by a person.  Nothing at all.  And puppies aren't so bad.  You just have to get to know them.   

     (Me and my annoying sister, in case you're getting confused as to which is which.  The marble tabby with the gray background is Baby.  The marble tabby with the brown background is me.  See?  Huge difference.  Besides, we smell different.  That should help clarify everything.)

Poor Scoutie

                                            [Me being sympathetic to my brother, Scoutie]

Ruru the Cat here.  So Scoutie, my brother, has been super excited about his family moving nearby.   He's missed them so much since they've been living in a place where they couldn't keep him for about a year.  But now we heard his family is moving nearby, all that whiner could do all day long was stare at the door and long for his people.  He kept going on and on and on about how he wanted to be held by them and snuggled by them and fed by them all day long.  He likes my people.  He probably even loves them.  But it's just not the same.  They're not his people.  

Now, his people have moved nearby.  He was so happy to be held by them all the time, passed from one family member to another.  Until they took him away from us, his kitty buddies.  And put him in a smaller space. And then he became an even LOUDER whiner.  He whines when he comes for a visit because he misses them, and he whines for us when he's stuck over there.  Some days, I feel bad for my brother.  I try to lick and snuggle him better because that's what cats do.  Other days, I just want to tease him because he's acting like a kitten.  A teensie weensie baby kitten.    

 

[Me showing an example of how to put up with your people's crap, whether you like it or not.] 

He's got his people back!  That has to count for something.  When my person comes back from a long day away, first, I act like I want nothing to do with her because that's what cats do.  Otherwise, we're in danger of losing our cat badge.  Only dogs stand at the door, waiting for their person.  Then I let her snuggle me.  That's it.  I don't whine when she holds me too tightly or sticks me in a room where I don't want to be.  She's my person.  She can flip me upside down and put bows on my butt.  She's my person.  That's all that matters. Scoutie waits like a dog by the door and snuggles them when it's easy, but as soon as they stick him in a small, unfamiliar space, he complains.  I want to shake that cat.  His people are his people.  There are cat guidelines for this.  You're loyal to your person, but you don't act loyal.  No standing by doors and no whining when you have your people again.  What does it take to teach a cat how to be a cat?  

                [Me, showing you a blackmail shot of my brother.  See?  He's such a baby!] 

Catnip!

[Catnip, glorious catnip!]

Ruru the Cat here.  My person pet is awesome.  Just so very awesome.  She did this thing so outstanding, so cat-like in its awesomeness, that I can't even describe it, but I will try.  So she said something about a science fair.  Whatever.  Then she put dry catnip on one side of the bath tub and fresh garden mint on the other side of the tub to see which we'd pounce on first.  Wow!  Talk about a slice of heaven!  I went right for that overpoweringly wonderfully awesome fresh mint.  At least two of the other cats did the same thing because they're smart.  Not sure what Baby was thinking in going for the catnip first.  I mean, that mint smelled stronger than anything else in the universe.  What bliss!  I'm not surprised that chicken cat, Maia, ran away rather than running to either end of the tub.

                                                           [Post catmageddon]

Anyway, then to show just how outstandingly perfect my person is, she left BOTH THE CATNIP AND THE MINT in that tub for a while, a long while.  It was paradise!  Bliss, I tell you.  We cats went nuts, playing with, chewing on, rolling in that mint AND catnip.  Wow!  What a day!  I don't even care why she did it nor do I know what this science fair stuff is.  But I wonder if we can do that again every day.

Halloween is for Humans

Ruru the Cat here.  This Halloween stuff is just not right.  Not right, I tell you.  People do weird things this time of year like petting me with a fake hand like in that picture above.  They keep scaring the snot out of the puppy every time they come in the house dressed in some weird way, especially when they wear hats.  Our people keep disappearing strange places and coming back with bags full of something that smells good, but they won't give us any.  I think somebody called it chocolate.  I can handle all this.  I can.  I don't like it, but I can handle it.

But then there's the crap I can't handle.  I mean, serious crap.  They want to dress themselves in weird costumes, fine.  My person's been dressed like me for three days now, and she looks silly.  Her cat ears aren't very convincing.  Her tail is sad.  It's just an embarrassing imitation.  But then she starts pulling those tricks on me.  I DON'T wear costumes.  She keeps doing it, too.  And it covers my face.  I look ridiculous.  This Halloween stuff is for the birds.  Worse, for the humans.  I just don't get how my person likes it so much.  She's nuts.  They're all nuts.  I just don't get it.

Cooties

                                   

                                                [Heroic me saving the puppy from cooties]

Ruru the Cat, here.  Did you know you, person, have cooties?  Yes, You do.  Person cooties are really bad.  I love people, don't get me wrong.  I love to let them pet me when I'm in the mood.  Or even when I'm not in the mood.  I can make space in my mood for people who want to pet me and hug me and play with my ears.  Especially when that person is my special person.  Except when she tries to stick her fingers in my mouth or dress me up in clothing or... well, those are subjects for another day.
But today, I have to tell you that people have serious cooties.  I would let you pet me if you were here, then I'd have to clean off your cooties, every last one.  I can't stand person cooties.  Don't ask me how this makes sense, that I love it when people touch me but can't stand their cooties.  But every time a person so much as touches my ear or the tip of my tail, I have to bathe the spot for a long time.  We're talking ten minutes.  Maybe more.  In cat time?  Let's see.  I've never been good at math.  But it's a LOT.  It's a serious lot of work to clean off your cooties.

So as a humble request from my species to yours, please keep your cooties to yourself.  I've tried to clean person cooties off the person first to make sure you don't spread them, but you spread them anyway.  It's kind of frustrating.  I mean, what self-respecting cat wants to smell like PERSON?  The dog doesn't seem to mind, which seems kind of weird.  I've tried to help her stop smelling like person, but it's kind of useless because she just goes and gets more cooties again, like she likes it.  Seriously, people, it's just gross.  You're gross.  But I love you, anyway.

How do you entertain a human?

                                                       (Me with stupid tape on my head)

Ruru the Cat here.  The funniest thing happened recently.  My person decided to cover the dog in tape.  Okay, maybe not cover her, but put little pieces on her to see how she'd react.  And that dog went nuts, running all over, rolling over, jumping on and off furniture to get those little tape bits off.  She just couldn't figure it out.

I laughed so hard.  On the inside, of  course, because cats can't make it too easy on people when it comes to figuring us mysterious feline types out.  It's kind of a rule, if cats can be said to have rules.  But it was so funny.  It only lasted a minute or two, but I thought I would pee myself from laughing that hard.

But then my person turned that silly tape on me.  That wasn't so funny.  I gave her a glare and ripped that stuff off because, let's face it, cats are a lot smarter than dogs and just won't put up with that nonsense.  But let me tell you what, I will cherish that image of a silly puppy running and rolling everywhere for the rest of my life or at least until I forget, whichever comes first.