Weird Stuff Outside

[Weird stuff outside my house: source]

 Ruru the Cat here. I just haven't felt like blogging. But weird things have been going on outside my house recently. First, my people started shoving dirt around. Why? Got me. Maybe they wanted their own litter box? I highly recommend it. It beats that big, white water dish in the bathroom humans like to sit on. Anyway, then, they put out grass. All over outside. That stuff looks interesting. I'd like to play with that. If only they'd bring it inside. But going outside? Not worth it. 

[What the what the?]

Then, weirder things still showed up outside my house. I think they're some kind of bird. I can see them through the window. My people call them chickens, but this doesn't look a thing like the white meat my people feed me in cat food cans and on the plates I steal from. Are they related? I don't know. I think this weird thing may be some two-legged skunk. My people have really weird tastes in pets. 

[Maybe a little less weird. Source]

There are others out there that look almost as weird, maybe a little like a vulture or turkey or something. It's like someone plucked them. Which makes them look a little yummy, actually. Like a cooked chicken. I don't know where my people are finding these crazy things. And why they need any pets besides me.. 

[Normal chickens: source]

The other ones look more or less like chickens I've seen in books but still nothing like the tasty meat I like to eat. I hear my people got them because these birds eat the bugs that kill the plants around here. Seriously? We cats LIKE bugs. They're so much fun to hunt. Why do we need feather-brained birds when we're here? I will honestly never understand humans. 

Going to a Better Place

 

[It may be it's on the cat tree, have sharp teeth, and eat rodents but is this python really a cat? Yeah, no.]

Ruru the Cat here. My people have been unnecessarily obsessing about this stupid living rope. Yeah, they call it a snake and act like it matters, but does it really? It doesn't have fur, four legs, or anything that makes it matter. You know, like cats matter. Well, like I matter because, after all, the other cats and dogs don't matter as much as I do. Humans try to matter, and they do a good job as long as they're taking care of my needs. But no one around me seems to quite understand priorities. 

[Dude and Roswell waiting for their nonexistent turn with the rat.]

Anyway, so my people have been worried about the snake not eating rodents. Why don't they worry that I don't get enough rodents in my diet? Why aren't they buying rodents and serving them up to me like I'm a royal? Okay, so if I don't get enough rodents, I can eat the boring kibble. I imagine he can, too. Why is it such a freak-out that Minion the Banana Ball hasn't eaten a rat for four months? I don't ever get fillet of rat. Wow, that sounds yummy. Can I have one? No? Dangit. See, my people were so worried that they bought him a live rat. But they didn't offer it to ME. See how bad their priorities are? We cats just had to salivate over a rat under glass while the snake was served then ignored this live one. Seriously?

[Off to a better place.]

Apparently, at his old home, Minion would eat well and be well taken care of. So, anyway, my people went on a trip a couple of days ago to take him back to his old home because my people couldn't get him to eat a rat, not a frozen tiny one, not a medium one, not a big one, not a living one, not any rat at all. What is his problem? I would have taken any of them. I could have spent a full hour or two or even three killing the rat, killing it again, playing with it, and killing it some more. Just think of the joy. What is wrong with this world that I didn't get my turn?

At least It Wasn't Me

[Minion the Python at the Vet]

Ruru the Cat here. Man, there's been a lot of obsession around here with that stupid new snake, Minion the Banana Ball Python. I guess it may be because the old python froze when the power to its heater cut out. Now, everybody around here has been freaking out that the new snake hasn't eaten for over three months and could starve. Three months. I can't go without eating for a whole day. I don't understand snakes at all. If you offered me a big, plump rodent, that thing would be gone in minutes. I certainly wouldn't starve myself for three months. That's insane. Food is my best friend. And rodents are my favorite kind of food. 

[Scary strangers grabbing the snake.]

Part of the humans' freak out has landed the poor living yarn in the vet's office. As if a three-month hunger strike isn't punishment enough. Now, they had to take Minion o the torture chamber known as the vet's. I hear everyone there got so excited to see a snake that they all had to gawk at it. All sorts of strangers probably touched the poor guy. *Shudder.* 

[Not sure what this thing is, but it looks scary.]

I can only imagine whatever torture devices they used on the poor thing. Granted, I don't care about snakes. I'm just having vague flashbacks to last time my humans dragged me there. Something to do with poking and prodding and all sorts of awful things. Better him than me. Not kidding. 

Everybody Having Christmas Fun but Me

 

[It used to be MY jungle gym]

Ruru the Cat here. The Christmas tree used to be my jungle gym. I'd be able to climb in and through it. Yes, I may have had some competition, but I'd get to spend a lot of time attacking and knocking over all the ornaments and knocking them to the ground. I also got to attack and kill the wrapping paper and all the presents. They were mine. Then, one younger cat after another started to crowd me out of all my favorite spaces. 

This was what it was like to greet the Christmas tree into the living room. Even the new little boy, Roswell, got to play with it. I guess that's because he's Dude's protege. And Dude, the big, scary panther in my house, has long since claimed the tree as his own. Only those Dude lets anywhere near his tree can kill it. 

[Roswell's first Christmas tree.]

Dude even let Roswell play with the ornaments once the tree was up. It just isn't fair. This used to be all my house. That used to be my jungle gym before the rest of the cats moved in and took it over. 

[Wren loves the ornaments.]

Dude even let other cats play with the ornaments. Before they went on the tree, that is. But he's often standing guard. I don't even try anymore. Mostly, I'm hiding either in my drawer in the bathroom or in my people's bedroom. 

[Roswell also got to help with wrapping paper.]

I didn't even get to help with the wrap. Everyone else got to shred the paper and play with the presents. It feels so good to shred it between my murder mittens. It's better still if there are presents inside. Can you think of anything more exciting than leaving a pile of gifts surrounded in shredded paper? I can't! Other than shredded paper filled with shattered bits of ornaments from my very own tree. Ahh. Paradise! It was so nice when I had a moment like that. 

But I haven't had a moment like that in years. Years! Such a tragedy. This is my holiday fun. No one else should have it but me. Can't we just send the cats away over the holidays? And leave them there afterward, wherever there is? 

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.