Fidget Spinners Are Stupid

Ruru the Cat here.  I thought about whining about how someone tripped on my paw last night, and now I've been limping all day.  But I don't want to think about it.  I'd rather sleep it off.  

What really bugs me is that my person busted out this really cool looking thing that goes around and around and around.  I tried to attack and kill it because it was moving.  Anything small that moves is yummy, right?  

No!  Not right!  I tried to bite it, and it flipped me in the face.  I tried to paw it, and it flipped me in the paw.  My person thought it was hilarious.  She laughed every time I attacked the thing and got slapped.  So I stopped attacking it.  

But then my person brought it CLOSER.  The demonic thing tormented me with its movement, taunting me and daring me to attack it again.  I still sat back, refusing with all my will power.  

Then she stuck it in my face, flapping it across my whiskers, so I HAD to attack it.  Had to.  It's what cats do.  But then it flipped me AGAIN.  I don't get why people find these crazy things interesting and how my person can be so cruel.  Humans are mean by nature, creating these cool things that attack back.  I'll be over here, licking the paw that got stepped on AND the one attacked by that stupid person toy.  And pondering mean thoughts at anyone who would think these things even make sense.  

All in My Perspective

Awesome Me, All Alone

Ruru the Cat here.  My person left for three whole days.  Three days!  I guessed it was going to happen when I saw the heaping bowls of cat food, when I saw the people gathering bags of things and taking them out of the house.  

But then she left, really left me.  I was all alone.  Except for the other cats.  And the snakes and lizards and stuff.  Oh, and people.  My person's cousins wandered around and petted me.  They held me, dragged me around, gave me love, and more importantly, food.  But it wasn't the right kind of love, and the food didn't taste right because it wasn't from her.   

Hey, hey.  That's my keyboard.  Keep your dog cooties away!

                                                                            Izzy

My name is Izzy.  Remember me?  I'm the dog.  Well, the real dog.  The other one is my chew toy.  I like my chew toy.  He yips and jumps around and plays with me.  But he's not a real dog.  Wait.  What was I saying?  Oh, right.  My people left me, too, but they left me far from home.  Ruru thinks it's bad to be alone at home without her person.  I watched my person walk away from me and leave me in a house.  A big house with food and water and people who snuggled me and played with me and gave me treats and let me run outside and gave me treats and more treats and...wait.  Where was I going?  Oh, yeah.  My person walked away. And I didn't like it at all.  I barked and barked and barked and barked for her to come back.  But she didn't.  She just kept walking and leaving me with these people who spoiled me and snuggled me and hugged me and treated me like a princess.  Wait.  That didn't come out right.  It was bad.  Really bad that my person left me for days and days and days and it was horrible.  Except the part about the treats and snuggles and hugs and spoiling.  

You know what?  You seem to think you've been through something bad, but none of that sounds bad at all.  Not even sort of.  You don't even like my person very much.  You have a different person.  Your person isn't awesome like my person, so when your person leaves you, it's not that bad.  Okay, Izzy's chew toy.  You're over there jumping around and acting like you need attention.  What, Dodger, did you suffer over those three days, too?  

No, it was great!  

Not this again! 

                                                                              Dodger

It was really really great.  We went camping again. I had my person the whole time for nights and nights.  No cats or annoying big dogs.  One, maybe, but it was mostly me and my person.  There was one weird night where it got darker and darker and darker and then lighter like really fast.  Weird night.  But it was really great 'cuz I got snuggled by my person.  I buried most of the food she tried to offer me 'cuz I didn't want it.  Except the bacon 'cuz Izzy wasn't nearby to steal it.  But my person was there, and that's what was important.  They kept talking about this thing called an eclipse, and it sounded like a big thing.  My person left me to go toward scary falling water, and I wouldn't even follow her because of the scary falling water.  I wonder if that's an eclipse.  But other than the water fall, eclipse or whatever people call it, it was a great trip.  Oh, and sometimes, my person walked away for an hour or two and left me on a leash and didn't snuggle me all the time.  But she came back for me, and it was great.  

Once again, thank you for telling us absolutely nothing about what camping is.  Just that it was great.  All this talk about eclipses and falling water and whatever.  So one dog tells me nothing, and one dog tells me even less.  Man, dogs are useless.  

People and Their Weird Stuff

Ruru the Cat here.  People are always shoving goofy things in my face as if I'm supposed to find them interesting.  Seriously.  All I want is snuggles.  And food.  Lots of food.  Is that too much to ask?  Instead, people are doing these weird things to me.   There's only one stuffed something I want in my face, and that's the one above.

Not this one: 

Definitely not this one: 

And this bizarre flashy one is right out: 

My people also think it's funny to stick me in a hat.  

It's not.  See that smothered furry thing at the bottom?  That's me.  Not happy.  Better a hat, though, than this number: 

Or worse yet, this one: 

Tape=suck.  Lots of suck.  If you pull this crap on me, I'll hide here: 

Or maybe here: 

I'll be tired, but at least I'll be safe.  And you'll never find me.  Consider yourself warned, crazy person.  

Camping? What's That?

Ruru the Cat here.  Last week, the really dumb hairball my people seem to think is a dog begged me ALL WEEK long to share his outdoor adventure.  See, I don't think he can string three words together, so don't expect much.  Izzy, the monster dog I still don't like but tolerate, at least owns a brain cell.  This thing my people call a Pomeranian seems to be little more than a grumpy throw rug.  But I'd rather get him off my back, so here he goes:

Wow!  Wowowowowow!  Ruru let me say stuff.  I wanted to say stuff, and she finally said yes.  I'm so happy!  My person did an amazing amazing amazing thing!  What was I saying?  

Seriously?  You wanted to talk about your camping trip.  People out there, I warned you.  Dodger's not the sharpest bulb in the box.  Even as dogs go.  Camping trip.  Dodger, tell us about that stupid camping trip of yours.  Whatever a camping trip is.  

Yes!  It was great!  I got to ride on my person's lap in the car, and it was great!  And I got to follow my person into a camping housy like thingy.  And then I got to sleep by her ALL NIGHT LONG.  And she took me for a walk in the middle of trees!  Everything was great!  It was really really great.  What was I saying?

Well, thank you, Dodger, for enlightening us about absolutely nothing.  I get the feeling you did something outside, and it was great.  

Yeah, great.  It was great.  

I still don't understand what camping is or how it was great or...anything.  But at least Dodger is going to shut up.  

Did I tell you it was great?  I got to smell my person all night long.  And it was...

Great.  Yes.  We know.  Thank you, truly inspiring.  Teach me to trust a dog to do or say anything.  

Birthdays Are Weird

[Here I am, a martyr to a human's crappy idea of fun]

Ruru the Cat here.  I get that my person thinks I'm a little four-legged person in fur.  Sometimes, it's a good thing.  This week, she threw me what she calls a "birthday party."  Some of it was awesome.  Some of it, I'd pay a huge pile of person money to forget.

One thing my person thought was cute that day was to make me try her orange juice.  Just ew.  I don't get how it's a good idea, this orange stuff.  It's just nasty.  And BECAUSE she got that stuff I didn't want stuck to my fur, she gave me yet ANOTHER bath.  Haven't I made it clear baths are for people and dogs, not for superior life forms like cats?

And then, even worse, she and her cousins thought it would be hilarious to put me on a leash and take me for a walk around the house.  Seriously?  Do I LOOK like a dog?  And OF COURSE she had to then dress me in person clothes.  NOT a person.  See these claws?  See these adorable green eyes?  Pointy ears?  Fluffy body?  Yes, these are things that should prove I'm NOT even sort of a person.  I meow.  I'm not a dog, either.  Do I smell like a slobbery, shaggy, stupid dog?  No, I do not.

 [See that poop-looking stuff in the bowl in front of me?  It smelled WAY better than it looked.  It's a cat birthday cake.  You should try it sometime.  Minty tuna?  That's what heaven smells like.]  

But it wasn't all bad.  She made me what she called a birthday cake.  I've licked human-type cake.  This was something else.  It was shaped kind of like a mouse, but it tasted like catnip and milk and tuna all AT THE SAME TIME.  I couldn't quite figure out how to eat it until they crumbled it.  Then I just wanted to stick my face in it and absorb it.  That was bliss.

[That pink thingy looks silly but smells like a slice o' paradise.] 

But even better was this little home made toy that smelled like catnip.  I could spend hours just smelling it and licking it and showing it the love it deserves.  If only my brother would leave it alone for a moment, that is.  Maybe this birthday stuff isn't all bad.  Just wrap up the baths and orange juice and clothes and give them to somebody who wants them.  I'll take seventeen birthdays in a row if it means more mint.  Especially tuna mint.  Do cats know how to party or what?

My Person Is Eeeeeeevil

Ruru the Cat here.  Here I was, thinking my person wasn't half bad.  She's usually super sweet to me, snuggling me with my stuffed leopard and carrying me up and downstairs when I ask and hauling me around.  She protects me from that scary puppy.  She's just generally good to me.

But this week, she was seriously on something.  She gave me ANOTHER bath.  And she's constantly threatening to give me more because she likes to see me suffer, clearly.  

If she didn't want me to suffer, she wouldn't have made me the star in a fashion show.  Fashion, like clothes.  CATS DON'T DO CLOTHES.  Seriously.  At ALL.  EVER.  I don't do this: 

I really really don't do this: 

I definitely can't stand this one: 

This one is worse:  

What did I do to deserve a horrible week like this?  I'm such a sweet, innocent angel.  I promise.  

Drowning in People

                                                   (How my house felt this week)

Ruru the Cat here.  I like my quiet life.  I get up in the morning, usually laying next to my person to make sure she doesn't leave me.  I spend my day dodging most other people and waiting for my person to snuggle me or play with my ears.  If she ignores me for too long, I have to seek out love from someone else.  That bugs me, but even my wonderful person can't be perfect all the time.  Then she feeds me, tucks me in at night with my stuffed snow leopard, and we go to sleep.  I, of course, get bored and usually slip out to play with other cats.  It's a great life.

Until other people intrude.  This weekend, there was a whole house full of outsiders bringing in their funky smells, especially the funky dog and cat smells.  They tried to chase me down and play with me WITHOUT permission.  They wanted to haul me around.  And they weren't even my person.  It was a NIGHTMARE.  This is my house.  I did not let them in.  How do these outsiders keep creeping in and stealing my peace?  I like it quiet.  I like it when it's just me and my person and some spares to keep me company when my person is doing the wrong thing (not playing with me).  I'm the center of the world.  I should be able to set the rules.  And rule number one is EVERYBODY but my person, keep OUT!