Circus of The Scars

Yesterday morning, the two leggers got up early. This was unexpected given that it was a Sunday and they NEVER get up early on Sundays.

It is simply not done.

After listening to them talking amongst themselves, I grew to understand that they were planning to spend the day in Seattle watching something called "Cavalia".

Having seen several commercials for "Cavalia" on the talking box thingy, I was enthusiastically unimpressed.

According to the ads, Cavalia is "Cirque Du Soliel with horses". The advertisements showed two leggers jumping about and horse thingies cavorting in what Birkenstock wearing types would consider an artistic manner. Strange music featuring a female singing "Ahhhhh, aaaaaaahhhh, aaahhhhhaaaahhh" to the sound of a rhino engaging in childbirth was played in the background.

As they left, I thought to myself "Better them, than me". 

They returned about ten hours later.

They were exhausted, but could not stop talking about how "magical" the show was. They even bought a DVD thingy of the spectacle. They then proceeded to plug in the DVD thingy and watch it once again.

My high state of indifference quickly turned to slow burning annoyance.

The entire show consisted of two leggers running, leaping and flying around the stage. Horse thingies pranced, ran and allowed the two leggers to ride around and caper upon their backs.

I am confused.

On a daily basis, I somersault, flip and fly through the air. Though I will never allow a two legger (or anything else) to ride me, I can stand on my hind legs. Yet the two leggers felt compelled to drive to a foreign land, (Seattle) pay big money, (which would be better spent buying me new toys and catnip) and spend the morning standing in the rain in order to see this performance.

To prove my point, I have decided to choreograph my own version of "Cirque Du SoLame":

The curtain thingy rises. Ivan rises with it due to the fact that he has a claw snagged in it.

Backstage, I smack Tiger Lily causing her to emit the annoying "musical" soundtrack.

From stage left I enter at a dead run. I make a leap at the half wall that separates the living room from the dining room.

I stick the landing.

With arched back, I thread my way between the knock knacks, never disturbing them. I then turn and in a wink, knock each one off in a very artistic manner. Meanwhile, Jaq has entered the stage unnoticed and with a flourish slaps the broken pieces under the couch.

Ivan, having disentangled himself from the curtain, begins the "strength" segment of our show. Running at full speed, (in Ivan's case, "full speed" is slightly slower than grass growing) he "races"into the kitchen, misses the turn and slams headfirst into a cabinet causing an avalanche of crockery to fall to the floor. He poofs and exits stage left.

The soundtrack has quit whining by this time and I go backstage to smack her again.

For the finale, we perform the amazing synchronized poof, scatter and slam stunt. This is where Ivan, Jaq and I all .............poof,.......... scatter......... and.........you're gonna love this................slam something!

The two leggers will laugh, they'll cry, they may even scream.

It will leave them speechless. Perhaps not scream-less, but definitely speechless.

It is truly breathtaking.

And we offer free admission.

Time and Punishment

My two leggers annoy me.

Sure, they feed me and worship me when forced to, but they still annoy me.

One of the most annoying things about my two leggers is their obsession with time.

Everything that they do is dictated by time.

They have a clock thingy in every single room in my house. Living room, kitchen, dining room, computer typey thingy room, and bathrooms. They even have a sundial in the back yard. (I live in the Pacific Northwest. So it is correct for about three hours every other year.) They keep no fewer than three alarm clock thingies in their bedroom. One to wake them in the morning, one to serve as a backup in case the first one doesn't work, and a third to wake them in case the first two fail. I suspect they also have a fourth one for use in the event that a burglar comes and steals the other three. Everywhere you look in my house there is a reminder that they must be running late for something.

Why do they need so many clock thingies?

I do not know.

We feline types consider clock thingies redundant.

When we are hungry, it is time to eat.
When we are drowsy, it is time to sleep.
When we spot something breakable, it is time to break it.
When we see a closed door, it is time for a two legger to open it.
When Ivan uses the litterbox, it is time to stop breathing.
When we wish to be petted, it is time for the two leggers to offer us worship.
When a two legger wishes to pet us, it is time to snub them and treat them with disdain.
When Tiger Lily whines, it is time to smack her.
When Tiger Lily doesn't whine, it is time to smack her.

But, given the importance that they seem to place in the clock thingies, I realize that there may be an opportunity here.

All of the clock thingies are set for the exact same time. (except the one on the microwave that has been blinking 12:00 for the last two years) What would happen if one or more of them suddenly decided to march to the beat of a different ticker?

With this in mind, I formulated my plan.

I began with the bedroom. All the clock thingies in the bedroom are of the "digital" variety. Two leggers believe that anything "digital" is more modern and subsequently more accurate. "Digital" also signifies buttons. This means the lack of opposable thumbs is not a factor.  By walking on the clock thingies while the two leggers sleep, I discovered that I could make the numbers change.

This morning sweet chaos ensued. The two leggers woke up at the crack of eight. They erupted  into a panic of flying clothes and shaking clocks. In record time, they were out the door and screeching tires announced their departure.

Upon their return, they changed the batteries in all the clock thingies and reset them. Little did they know, Ivan and I had been busy during the day moving the hands on the all the other clock thingies back one half hour.

Tomorrow promises to be almost as much fun.

De-lighted

I must be slowing down.

I came to this conclusion yesterday while pondering the snow outside my house.

For the last three days, I have been subjected to the constant presence of my two leggers. My kingdom has been "snowed-in" and the two leggers have been unable to go wherever it is that they go most days.

Thus their company has been forced upon me.

At first I was amused. There was always a warm lap to lounge upon. The firebox thingy has been burning non-stop. Treats have been abundant. Everything has been peaceful and serene. This made me come to a realization:

I don't do peaceful and serene.

However, the two leggers seemed to notice my tranquility. This caused them to grow suspicious and they increased their vigilance. They began to keep a water squirty thingy handy whenever I was in the room. They moved all fragile knock knacks to areas beyond my reach. I suspect they may have even installed hidden camera thingies.

To counter their scrutiny, I sent Ivan into their bathroom to make noise and serve as a distraction. I believe this may have worked if Ivan had not found a Q-tip and spent the next two hours trying to make it talk. (He later named it George and is planning to raise it as his own)

So, I pondered.

A few hours later when the lights flickered, (The male said this was due to frozen power lines) it occurred to me.

The lights! I literally had a light bulb moment!

I used to make it a point to destroy a lamp at least every three months. This gave me an average of four lamps per year. Just enough to cause chaos, but not enough to force the two leggers to invest in wall sconces.

As I looked around my kingdom, I realized that every lamp in my house was at least six months old. In "light years", they could be considered geriatric. How could I have been so lax?

Though I could see my mission, I still had a major obstacle to overcome.......the two leggers. At first I believed I could lull them into a sense of complacency. I put on my best "cute lil kitty" act. Chittering at the bird thingies outside, purring contentedly as I lay on my throne in front of the firebox thingy. Occasionally playing with Beebo (my catnip mousie thingy). But as time went on, their paranoia only increased. It was time to up the ante.

I began wandering around all the tables that held lamps. Gently rubbing against each one, I found two likely candidates that seemed to tip with the least amount of effort. The two leggers seemed to notice my activities and stepped up their scrutiny of my actions.

Little did they know that this was a ploy.

I had already chosen the condemned lamp(s). In my hallway, there is a long, narrow table. Upon this this long narrow table, there sits an even longer, narrower piece of material called a "runner". (I don't know why they call it a runner, it seldom moves and never runs) Upon the runner sit two decorative lamps  and various family pictures. I suspected that if one, such as myself, were to snag a claw in one end of this "runner", one such as myself, could then run down the hallway pulling the entire contents of the table behind them. This action would cause both lamps and a several picture frames to interface with the hardwood floor.

Thus, my plan formulated, I jumped up on an end table and proceeded to cause a different lamp to teeter and almost fall. The male two legger immediately jumped up and attempted to spray me with the water squirty thingy. I, of course "panicked" and ran down the hallway, being careful to snag the runner in my "flight". Just as planned, the entire "runner" came with me and both lamps were utterly destroyed in the process. As a bonus, the female two legger then chastised the male for causing my panic and wave of destruction. The clean-up took hours.

Oh, "runner", now I understand. 

Let's Get Physical

Last night I found myself pondering my two leggers.

It occurs to me that they are aging.

The male turned 45 last May and the female celebrated her thirtieth birthday in July..........again.(She tends to celebrate her thirtieth birthday every July)

I have come to realize that they are not immortal. Someday, unless they start taking better care of themselves, one or both of them may suddenly reach a point where they will have to be put down. If this should occur before my plan to develop opposable thumbs (thus making them obsolete) comes to fruition, I would be greatly inconvenienced.

Hence, I have decided that it is in my best interest to keep them alive longer than I first anticipated.

It is my belief that they require exercise.

The female tends to take better care of herself than the male. She eats green stuff and tends to be more active than the hairy legged one. He considers a cheeseburger with lettuce and tomato "health food". Therefore I decided to focus more on him than her.

I have developed an exercise regimen for him. I will force him into a healthier lifestyle even if it kills him. However, I must be somewhat cagey and underhanded in implementing my plan. If he becomes aware that he is exercising, he may tend to panic and bolt. So I give you my plan:

Cujo's Two Legger Exercise Routine

Catnip Mousie Pushups: Every five minutes while playing in a playful manner, I bat my catnip mousie thingy under the entertainment center and then meow plaintively until the male rises from his chair, lays on the floor and reaches under the furniture and retrieves it for me in order to "get some damn peace and quiet". 

Whiny Cat Is Being Murdered Sprints: Once an hour, I sneak up on Tiger Lily (wherever she may be hiding) and commence to chewing on her head. This causes her to emit a blood curdling yowl, bringing the male running down the hallway at his top speed, screaming. This activity has the added benefit of exercising his lungs as well as his legs.

Immovable Object Lifts: This involves Ivan. Ivan proceeds to lay atop the button pushy thingy that controls the talking box thingy. This forces the male to lift Ivan's hefty bulk every time he wishes to change the channel. Ivan generally bites him each time this is attempted, so we all win.

Unidentified Sound Squats: I move to another room and begin making sounds that may or may not sound like something is about to break. This causes him to stand and listen, hearing nothing else, he sits down again. Wait 30 seconds and repeat.

Staredown Situps: I sit on the end table between him and the talking box thingy causing him to sit up in his chair every five seconds and yell "Down in front!".  Once again, this works his lungs as well as his abs.

Litterbox Lunges: I send Ivan into the litterbox every thirty minutes to pop a stinky. I do not require him to actually leave an offering. With Ivan, even an air biscuit will usually cause the male to jump up and grab the scooper.

With the daily implementation of this routine, I predict that we will have his body back in shape soon.

However, his blood pressure may require further attention.

A New Day

What a day:

4:00 am- I decide that the two leggers have had enough rest for one night and proceed to wake them up in order that they may go out and procure me a new Computer Blogging Machine Thingy. (CBMT) Though the sun had yet to make an appearance, I felt that they were wasting daylight and needed to get their oddly hairless butts in gear.

4:02 am- After drying myself  (the water squirty thingy had made an unexpected and completely unwarranted appearance) I decided to send Ivan to wake them up. I told him that the male was having a dream in which he was fishing and that if he woke the two legger during this dream, perhaps he would be inclined to share his catch.

4:03 am- Ivan returns soaking wet and somewhat miffed.

4:04 am- I have decided to let the two leggers sleep in. It is Sunday, and I am nothing if not benevolent.

4:45 am- Okay, enough is enough. I want a CBMT and I want it yesterday. I smack the door repeatedly until I hear the male stir. Before he reaches the door, I decide that it is time for my morning nap and repair to the couch. He enters the living room, (water squirty thingy brandished like a crucifix) finds nothing amiss and returns to bed.

9:00am- I allow the two leggers their morning ablutions and send them out the door with the warning that they will not be allowed back in my house unless they are in possession of my new CBMT. I also give Tiger Lily a whollop to demonstrate what their fate will be if they disappoint me.

2:30 pm- The two leggers have returned. In their absence, I have had to amuse myself by killing three dust bunnies, cursing the squirrel thingy, pondering Jaq, and convincing Ivan that his tail has been cheating on him.

2:35 pm- The male two legger has begun the process of setting up my new CBMT. Having watched several programs on Animal planet, I recognize the look on his face as the same one that gorillas at the zoo have when a new tire swing is introduced into their cage. He obviously requires feline supervision.

3:00 pm-The male has begun mumbling something about the "kid" at the store said this would be so easy. I do not understand his confusion and have no sympathy. I realize he needs more supervision and call Ivan and Jaq to assist.

3:25 pm- The male suddenly shouts "EUREKA!" and then begins mumbling again after the screen goes blank. He then shouts : "If I wanted to pay a thousand bucks to be aggravated, I could have bought Seahawks Season Tickets!!" I don't know what that means, but I suspect it is a sports reference.

4:00 pm- In exasperation, he hits the power button on the CBMT. It starts up perfectly and immediately logs on to the interwebs. He informs the female that with his superior computer skills, he has now set up my CBMT.

Who knew 12 hours could bring so much amusement?

Hide your children, lock up your squirrel thingies and prepare for Universal Domination.

I am back.

Shouting From The Litterbox

Once again, I am annoyed.

No, strike that, I am beyond annoyed. I am mad, ticked, miffed, angry, upset, irritated, irate and furthermore disturbed.

I have my hairballs in a bunch. My smacking paw is quivering to beat the band and my tail is twitching so hard that it may put someone's eye out.

Even Ivan is cowering from my wrath. Tiger Lily has just booked a ticket thingy to Afghanistan because it may be safer than staying here while I vent my annoyance. Jaq is on the female two legger's lap until Hurricane Cujo passes.

You may ask, "What could have our Dear Leader in such a tizzy?". Allow me to elucidate:

As you all are aware, my puter thingy crashed last week. It took a dirt nap. It has passed away. It contracted a terminal case of buggerall and committed Hari Kiri. It has entered unto the promised land of all things that are composed primarily of plastic, wire and magic. It is no more. It is an ex-laptop. It has become a high tech paperweight. Just like a cat after it's "eight month checkup" at the vet, you can turn it on, but nothing else happens.

This is an obstacle, but obstacles are made to be overcome. What really annoyed me was what happened today.

I bade my male two legger to order me a new computer machine thingy last Monday. He of course, obeyed. He then informed me that my new blogging apparatus would arrive this coming Monday. Today, I commanded that he check the order status so that I could then confirm to my minions that their Master would be back on the interwebs Monday evening. Imagine my dismay when he discovered that his order had somehow been canceled with no notice whatsoever. No email, no phone call, not even a carrier pigeon. (which would have been delicious given that they are currently in season.)

So I ordered him to call their customer service department to investigate this travesty.

He was given such a run around and after a half hour on the phone thingy was informed that no one could help him until Monday and he should call back. This caused him to rip out what little hair he has left and then grab a beer and watch football.

I have informed him that he will cease all communication with this company, close all accounts with them and go out tomorrow to a store that sells computer thingies and not return until he has bought me a new one.

As for the company that I am so annoyed with, I will not name them due to my one phobia. I suffer from briefcasecarryinghotairblowingalwayswantingtosueeveryoneaphobia.

So suffice it to say that their name I cannot..... TELL
Though they put me through........HELL
I hope their products do not......SELL
Their customer service is.......PELL MELL.
For their promises I .......FELL.
I would love to ring their........BELL.

And I will throw their product down the nearest.......WELL.

Puter Problems

I know I do not ask much of my minions, (other than total loyalty, unswerving devotion, daily offerings and the occasional blood sacrifice) but I ask for your patience and understanding in this, my time of limited computer limitedness. The offending laptop thingy has been condemned and sentenced to replacement. It's progeny has been ordered and is due to be borne unto my presence next Monday. Please bear with me.