The Big, Loud Monster

[Do you see its mean, beady eye staring at you?  RUN!!!]

Ruru the Cat here.  There is a big, scary thing that sits most of the time like a sleeping monster.  I'm not sure what it is or why it's here.  Most of the time, we forget it's even there and race around it.  

But once in a while, a person touches it, and it wakes up.  When it awakes, it roars in a way that deafens and terrifies all cats and dogs in the house.  We all run as fast as our legs can carry us, even Willow, the big, scary dog-like yeti that lives in my backyard and often comes inside.  We all flee the loud monster's might.  Its roars hurt our ears and fills the air with this funky odor kind of like old dirt but more chilling because it always accompanies the monster's awakening.  

Once it's awake, it tears through the house, pulling some person behind it.  I don't know whether it serves them or they serve it.  It just seems there's this chilling symbiotic relationship that occurs between the loud monster and the person.  I don't understand it at all.  Every time it sleeps, I hope it's dead and won't awaken again.  But then, it possesses another person and makes that person awaken it again.  I wish I could figure out how to kill it.  But once it's awake, I don't want to get anywhere near and will shred anything holding me back from my terrified flight.  The thing is an absolute terror, and I wish it would go away.  Get thee hence, loud monster.  Leave my people alone.  

Curly Toes?

                          [I don't get it.  They're just toes.  Adorable 'cuz they're mine, but still...]

Ruru the Cat here.  My person is weird, in case you haven't figured that out yet.  She sits around petting me, staring at me, tormenting me, pulling on my body parts, snuggling me... you'd seriously think she was a toddler by how hard she plays with me.  But yet I still come back because the snuggles are so nice and because she generally makes a great pet.  Except when she dresses me up, but that's a topic I've already mentioned again and again and again because it's of those frustrations in training up a proper pet human. 

But she's started to get all excited and shrill just because I curl my toes.  If someone pets me just the right way, my toes will curl without me thinking about it.  It's really nice to be petted that way.  I just don't understand why she has to get all shrill and excited and--above all--loud just because my toes curl.  Doesn't she get that my ears are really really big, and sounds are really really really loud to me?  What, doesn't everybody curl their toes sometimes?  But yet her whole goal in this world seems to be to make my toes curl.  I guess it's not so bad because it means I'm getting snuggled and petted in just the right way.  And nothing (except maybe ham or tuna or steak or cream or cheese) is nicer than that.

I just wish she didn't sound like a siren just because I curl my toes.  I guess if it means I get more loving from my favorite pet, I'll just have to deal.  As long as she also gives me steak.

Yeti in my Backyard

Ruru the Cat here.  So there's this thing that's invaded my home turf, and I don't like it at all.  I'm pretty sure it's a dog 'cuz it smells like a dog.  But it's big.  Huge.  And it scares me.  I vaguely remember a big black dog scaring me out of my wits in my own house.  I think this thing has been here before.  But it's big and white and looks like it blends in with the snow back behind the house.  And it has huge feet that could stomp on me.

                                             (My dog-shaped lump bonding with the beast.)

It wouldn't be so bad if it stayed outside, but it comes in my house, sheds all over everything, and uses up the attention, love, and above all DOG FOOD that belongs to us cats and maybe those useless lumps my people call their own dogs.  But mostly, it belongs to the cats.  We've claimed it, so it's ours.  For instance, there was a lovely ham bone she ate all by herself.  She didn't share. 

                  (Too much hobnobbing with the enemy.  My cat family should know better.)

I keep reminding the others that this is our enemy, but the dogs and even the other cats have more or less accepted her into our little tribe here.  The dogs are super excited every time she's either in the house or out back.  I mean, they seem to want to jump on her even though they can't reach very far.  I don't get what's going on at all, though my people think it's pretty funny.  They say something about the boy dogs wanting to make puppies with this big, hairy monster.  I shudder at the thought because then there would be MORE of them.  But with the way those little dogs don't reach past her knees, I'm thinking we're safe on that account.

I just wish we could send this huge, slobbery throw rug back wherever she came from.  Or maybe wherever you find other yetis.  But I seem to be the only one with this logical, intelligent perspective.  In the meantime, I'll ignore her and try to eat up all the food in the house before she vacuums it up.  It's the least I can do to protect my house.

This School Crap

(What life is supposed to be like all day every day.  Kittygaroo, where have you been all my life?)

Ruru the Cat here.  I thought my person had learned her lesson.  I've been so loving and sweet the whole time my person was home for about two weeks.  It was bliss.  She pretty much wanted to hold me almost all day every day for that whole time.  I showed her how great I could be.  I put up with all her silliness of dressing me in costumes and rearranging my face and hauling me around like a plush toy.  I let her feed me off her plate.  I showed her how great it was to not go to school.  

But then she went back, anyway.  I can't believe this.  She keeps doing this to me.  She tantalizes me with these beautiful days of being home all the time and then there are days and days of her being gone almost all day.  It's just not fair.  I'm stuck finding body heat from her mom, but it's just not the same.  Whoever thought this school crap was a good idea obviously doesn't care about the needs of an adorable cat like me.  Seriously.  I think I'll boycott school.  Show them just what I think of it.  Grrr.  

All Gone

(One of the decorations I hate but will miss.)

Ruru the cat here.  I know I've been kind of whiny about Christmas.  Oh, hush, Toothless.  I don't need you butting in.  Yes, I've been very whiny about this Christmas stuff.  But now that it's all gone, I'm kind of sad.  Okay, so I still got some ham bits all week, leftovers from Christmas.  But I watched my person's mom take down my jungle gym, with all its dangly, spangly stuff, and I got really upset.  I sat in the tree-shaped jungle gym to try to defend it and show that it shouldn't go into boxes along with everything else.  It didn't help.  All the other decorations I've been able to chase around and attack, including that fake glowy cat in the window I kept beheading, have also disappeared. 

                                                         (Me being super duper lovey.)

Worse yet, I heard a horrible rumor that these lovely days when my person is around all day long are also going away.  That can't possibly be true.  She wouldn't leave me for that horrible school place, would she?  I mean, I think I've done a pretty good job of showing her how cuddly I could be all day long. 

                            (Part of the crap I've tolerated without killing anyone 'cuz I'm such a saint.)

I've put up with her rearranging my face and dressing me in silly clothes.  I've even been found sitting outside her door, waiting for her to stop being boring and wake up.  I can't believe all these rumors.  But the rumors about disappearing jungle gyms and spangles were true.  Maybe this one is, too.  Man, I'm depressed. 

This Christmas Stuff

(My jungle gym!)

Ruru the Cat here.  I'm still not sure what to make of this Christmas stuff.  I still love my funny-looking, tree-shaped jungle gym with all the sparkly stuff on it, but everything else is a mixed bag. 

(Mmmm.  Meat!)

There have been wonderful things like when my person's mom trotted out a plate full of meat and shared some with me.  That was a slice of heaven. 

(Boxes and wrapping paper...the stuff of legend.)

There have been other good things, tempered only by crazy human behaviors.  They keep chasing us away from that lovely jungle gym and from a pile of wrapped stuff.  Let me tell you, that paper they use shreds nicely.  Who cares about the human stuff inside, when I can rip into the paper and sit in the boxes?  But the crappy part of it was after chasing us away, then they went right to the tree this morning and ripped open that paper themselves.  How is that fair? 

Okay, but that wasn't the really bad stuff.  That was just the good stuff that people wouldn't let us touch.  The really horrific stuff is yet to come.  My person turned me into a doll in what she called a "one cat pageant."  You may want to look away if you're easily upset. 

(She put this horrible thing on me and called me "Mary," whatever that is." 

(In this thing, she called me "Joseph."  Weird.)

(She wrapped me tightly in this blanket--which I didn't like at all--and called me Baby.  Baby was my obnoxious sister, not me.)

(She put this silly thing on me and called me a shepherd.  Who knows with humans.)

(She put this on me and called me a "Wise Man." Wise, I like.  But man is a human. That's an insult.)

(Meanwhile, the dumb dog, who doesn't mind getting dressed up, just got to look like this as a "sheep."  People don't make sense.)

I had just decided that this Christmas stuff was for the birds--or for crazy humans--when they trotted out the good stuff.

(The jacket so my person can haul me around in a pouch.)

(The treats, the jingly ball, and the fuzzy mouse-looking thing that smells like rabbit fur.)

I've decided that Christmas isn't all bad.  I mean, meat, toys, jungle gym, wrapping paper, treats, presents for me?  I'll forgive it.  This time.  

Snow is a Four-Letter Word

[This is not funny.  Not even sort of, so stop laughing.]

Ruru the Cat here.  Humans are despicable.  Okay, my person did a despicable, horrible thing.  It's almost too painful to describe, but I'll tell you, anyway.  She took me out into that horrible white stuff outside my house and plunked me down in it.  And laughed!  LAUGHED!  Seriously, there's something seriously wrong with a person that does that.  It was cold and wet and nasty.  I don't know why you'd want that stuff around at all.  There's no point to it that I can see.  They should have it just removed.  

[People suck.  I mean, really.]

But it clearly wasn't enough to throw me in that horrible stuff.  Then, she had to send me down the slide.  

[Humans=pure evil.]

And put me on the swings.  

[Get thee hence, humans.]

And toss me in the sandbox.  

And laugh and laugh and laugh like a maniac.  I mean, what is with that kid?  She's usually so nice to me.  And I looked to her mom for help, but I may as well have looked to the nasty white stuff, for all the good it did me.  She just aimed that camera thing at me and laughed with my person.  They're all sick.  SICK, I tell you.  

[Aaaaah.  Better.] 

Everything got a little better when they brought me back inside, but then they brought me just a little too close to the fire and discussed warming me up with the even-worse thing called a bath.  

 

[Not better.  Really really not better.  A cat is not a dog.]

They didn't go that far, but my person did stick me on a dog's leash to make me walk at the end of it.  Seriously, I'm not a dog.  Dogs are foolish enough to play in snow and want leashes.  I'm a cat.  Cats don't stoop so low.  Cats understand that snow is just water in disguise, and you know how we feel about water.  

I should really kill them all in their sleep, drag them out back on the end of a leash, and bury them in that white stuff and see if they like it.  But then again, if I did that, the lovings would stop.  And there'd be no one to feed me.  Okay, fine.  I'll let them live.  This time.