Reality Bites

Today, Ivan was stalking me.

I knew he was stalking me because he's not very good at it.

He has good intentions, but fails miserably when it comes down to the actual stalking process.

Most cats will sneak from hidey hole to hidey hole, with the utmost stealth and cunning. Silently sneaking up on their intended victim, taking care to remain undetected until the optimal pouncing opportunity. Ivan's system of stalking basically involves him walking leisurely down the hallway, snickering while muttering under his breath: "Ooooh, I'ma gonna get him this time. He not gonna get away. I'm big sneaky cat. I gonna jump on him and chew his head. He never see me comin."

His stalking technique would probably be quite successful if he were stalking a deaf, dumb and blind inanimate object whose sense of smell was impaired (or a squirrel). But, he was stalking me and I was well aware of his feeble attempt.

However, never let it be said that I do not have my magnanimous moments. I decided to pretend not to see (or hear, or smell) his approach. When he got within three tailspans, he pounced. Unfortunately, Ivan's pounce has never exceeded more than 1.5 tailspans and he fell woefully short. Feigning surprise, I jumped straight up into the air and poofed. We then fell into a heap of fur, claws and teeth and wrassled on the coffee table for a few minutes.

Now you may be wondering by now how this is different from our normal daily activities. The answer is that it really isn't. Except for one detail: In the process of wrasslin, I rolled over the remote control thingy and accidentally turned on the talking box thingy.

The talking box thingy is generally not turned on while the two leggers are away and so we are seldom exposed to daytime programming. This incident turned out to be somewhat of an education. It seems that daytime talking box thingy shows consist of what the two leggers describe as "reality shows". These shows are supposed to depict "real" two leggers engaging in "real" situations.

I was amused.

After being exposed to approximately six hours of  "reality", I decided that my minions and I could come up with a better show than what we watched today. Actually, a drug-addicted autistic chimpanzee with post-traumatic stress disorder could come up with a better show, but given the fact that the last drug-addicted autistic chimpanzee with post-traumatic stress disorder I knew left town last year, I'll have to produce the show myself. And so I give you:

The Idols of Real Housecats Who Dance With Honey Boo Boo

Our show begins with Ivan and Tiger Lily who live in a trailer on the outskirts of town. After guzzling several bottles of catnip tea, Ivan begins smacking Tiger Lily around (catfights are a staple of "reality"shows). As Tiger Lily whines about being beaten, Bob and the goat thingies judge her performance.

"Oh, she's FABULOUS!" exclaims Bob.

"Baaaaaa" says Goat Thingy #1

"Baaaaaa" says Goat Thingy #2

By receiving two "Baaaas", Tiger Lily is deemed the "weakest link", voted off the island and summarily executed.

In the meantime, I retrieve Jaq from the closet where she has been providing the musical score by singing an assortment of Sinead O'Conner's greatest hit (intentionally singular).

We begin dancing and another catfight breaks out.

Bob says: "FABULOUS!"

Goat Thingy #1 says: "Baaaaaaa"

Goat Thingy #2 says: "Baaaaaaa"

Receiving two "Baaaaaa's", Tiger Lily is once again deemed the "weakest link", voted off the island and summarily executed.

The show concludes with scenes from next week's episode in which Tiger Lily is deemed the "weakest link", voted off the island and summarily executed.

I smell a Daytime Grammy Award in my future.

Nevermind, that was just Ivan in the litterbox.