WARNING-UNKNOWN ENVIRONMENTAL DANGER EXPOSED

I am writing this post today as a warning.

There are many harmful things that two leggers both willingly and unwillingly expose their four leggers to.

Pesticides, tinsel, small thingies that can lodge in a cat's throat or intestinal tract, cleaning agents and detergents, a veritable pharmacopeia of substances detrimental to a feline's health. Electrical hazards, disease-ridden vermin, heavy objects stored in high places that may fall. The list is almost endless.

While most two leggers try to be very vigilant about not exposing their masters to these everyday death dealers, there is one danger that stands out above all the rest. It is a peril that is so pernicious and evil that most people find it difficult to even consider. It is insidious in the way that it stealthily creeps into our homes. One moment you think all is well in your kingdom, and the next moment: "KA-BOOM!" it has struck and nothing will ever be the same again.

Though it appears in many varied forms and manifestations, it can be described by one ultimately vile name:

Infomercials.

While not necessarily a physical danger, and rarely fatal, if one is unwittingly exposed to more than 6.318 seconds of an Infomercial, permanent and untreatable brain damage may occur. Stroke, aneurism and a general babbling are symptomatic of Infomercial Exposure Disorder (IED).

Infomercials are aired on the talking box thingy late at night after all the entertaining shows have gone to bed. Supposedly, they are an attempt to sell gullible two leggers products that normal stores are unwilling to stock at prices that normal stores cannot match. In reality, normal stores are afraid of these products and do not wish to expose their customer base to them for fear of another social enemy known as "Lawyers".

The actual purpose of Infomercials is to instill aberrant and misguided thought thingies into the vast empty spaces of the the two legger's mind. These illogical ideas bounce around in the head thingy until they form a large gelatinous mass that is only capable of saying "Ooooh! I need that thingy!" and inputting credit card numbers into a phone thingy at two in the morning. 

I have evidence.

I have watched several of these Infomercials in order to gather my evidence.

Disclaimer thingy-DO NOT TRY TO INVESTIGATE INFOMERCIALS YOURSELF. I am a trained professional. I have taken precautions in order to safeguard my sanity. Before watching any Infomercial, I spend several hours numbing my brain thingy by watching reruns of Jersey Shore, Miley Cyrus, David Letterman, and American Idol.

Last night I prepared myself and then watched an Infomercial about a bracelet that allegedly realigns the "magnetic field" that two leggers generate. According to Dr. Marie Osmond, all two leggers have a strong magnetic field surrounding their bodies. If that magnetic field gets out of alignment, it can cause depression, anxiety, sterility and a craving to eat iron filings. However, if one "acts now" and sends Dr. Osmond $19.95, she will send not one, not two, but THREE cheaply made stainless steel bracelets that will straighten out any magnetic anomalies.

This morning, I decided to test my two legger's "magnetic field". Using a variety of metal objects, I attempted to make them stick to him. I knocked a tray of paper clips off of a shelf as he walked by. Though one snagged in his hair, none stuck to his head. While he was in the bathroom, I smacked a pair of tweezers that struck him squarely in the cheek. Once again, they clattered harmlessly to the floor. I was finally able to make a couple of sewing needles stick, but in my opinion that had to do more with the sharp pointy ends than with magnetism.

Later, I watched an Infomercial about a thingymajig that "slices, dices and tenderizes" everything known to man.

Save your money, get a cat.

Liquor Lickers

While pondering my water bowl it occurred to me that two leggers partake of many different liquids.

This is one of the many areas that we felines differ from the lower lifeforms.

If it is morning, we drink water. If it is afternoon, we drink water. If it is after 6pm, we drink water. However, if we've had a hard day, we may just drink.........water.

Two leggers on the other paw drink a great variety of different beverages. In the morning, they drink coffee. In the afternoon, they drink iced tea or fruit juice.

As the day progresses, they drink an ever varying selection of liquids depending on the activity they are performing. For instance:

If the male two legger is working in the yard, he drinks beer.
If the female two legger is working in the yard, the male drinks beer.
If it is raining and they are unable to work in the yard, the male will drink beer.
If the male two legger is cooking meat on the grill, he will drink beer.
If the male two legger is cooking in the kitchen, the female will drink wine to counteract the fact the the male two legger is cooking in the kitchen while drinking beer.
Some nights, the female will ask the male to make a concoction containing something called tequila mixed with orange juice called a "tequila sunrise". After blending the tequila and orange juice, the male will celebrate the successful creation by drinking a beer.

I have been pondering the purpose of their libations and last night I decided to solve the mystery by conducting a thoroughly scientific experiment thingy. Fortunately, the two leggers facilitated my experiment thingy by having a gathering of their friends and leaving the kitchen uncleaned until morning. Once they retired for the evening, I realized that they had left several samples of refreshments upon the counter.

There were four different types of liquid left out. This proved extremely fortuitous given the fact that there were four felines and therefore the experiment thingy could be conducted in a most scientifically sciency experimental like manner.

I assigned Ivan to taste the beer.
Jaq would partake of the tequila stuff.
I would try the martini (shaken, not purred).
And, of course, Tiger Lily would drink the.......wait for it............wine.

We watched as Ivan stalked the beer mug. I don't know why he felt the need to stalk the mug thingy, but it is Ivan's way and I'm sure he had his reasons. He took a tentative taste. His face scrunched up like a freshly squeezed orange. After staring at the beer for a moment as if building up his courage, he shoved his face into the mug thingy and drained the contents in one long "SLUUUUUUUUUURP!". 
Looking somewhat dazed, Ivan wallowed over to the couch, burped loudly and proceeded to watch NASCAR for the next three hours.

Meanwhile, Jaq had begun sniffing the tequila. Looking at me with a grin, she lapped up the drink. For several seconds there was no visible effect upon her. Suddenly, with no warning whatsoever, she jumped four tailspans straight into the air and shot from the room. We sat in stunned silence until about five minutes later she emerged from the hallway closet with one of the female's scarves wrapped around her like a serape' and regaled us with a beautiful rendition of "Besame' Mucho".

While Ivan and Jaq were sampling their assigned beverages, I had been taking moderate sips from a half full (half empty, for my pessimistic readers) martini that had been left on the coffee table. I found this liquid to be completely unpalatable, but the olive thingy was fun to bat around. However, after finishing the martini, it dawned on me that I was perhaps the "Greatest Olive Smacker Who Had Ever Lived"!  And not only that, the entire world could benefit from my olive smacking abilities! Olive companies would seek me out to endorse their olives! Modern society would bow down to my olive smacking prowess!

As I pondered my new-found superpower, Tiger Lily had completely drained her glass of wine. True to form, she began whining about the taste of the wine. The more she "wined", the more she whined. She whined about the taste. She whined about the smell. She whined that it made her nose feel numb. She whined that it made her legs feel wobbly.

I ordered Ivan to shut her up. However, he just grinned at me from the couch and said "Boogity-boogity-boogity!".

Fortunately, a well-aimed olive put her out of my misery.

Travel Tips

One of the many things that annoy me about two leggers is their tendency to stray and wander about.

Though my two leggers only travel once or twice per year, many of the minions in my FaceBook Fan Club have written to me complaining that their two leggers often leave home for days or even weeks at a time. They petition me to advise them on how to keep their two leggers on a shorter leash.

In the past I have always assumed that being cats, they are naturally smarter than their two legged caretakers, however after living with Ivan for the past six years, I have come to the realization that this is not always the case. Therefore, I have decided that once again, I shall rain droplets of wisdom upon the fertile fields of my minions.

Two leggers travel for several reasons. They travel for work, they travel for pleasure, they travel to see their family and sometimes they travel to get away from their family. The reasons they travel do not concern us. The very fact that they travel is what concerns us.

It's annoying.

While they are gone, we have no one to feed us when we hunger. We have no one to give us water when we thirst. While it is true that they usually make arrangements for us to be fed and watered while they are gone, it is usually done according to the substitute minion's schedule. What if we decide that we wish to be fed at 2:30 in the morning and there is no one here to waken? Who will retrieve our catnip mousy thingies when they get stuck behind the icebox thingy?

If no substitute minion is available, they may decide to take us to a cattery. A cattery is exactly like a nunnery except that it is totally different in every way.

It is all terribly inconvenient and not to be tolerated.

I have developed several methods of Two Legger Travel Prevention (TLTP):

Luggage Lounging- As soon as I see them break out the luggage, I take up residence in the largest suitcase and refuse to budge. This prevents them from packing anything they do not wish to be covered in cat hair.

Mooshy Map Mayhem-  Liberally apply hairballs to any maps left out unattended. This will confuse their sense of direction and make travel difficult.

United Air Whines- Tiger Lily whines incessantly whenever they attempt to call their travel agent thingy. (Caution: This tactic can result in a strengthening of their urge to leave town)

Rollin In The Duh- I make Ivan roll around in everything they pack. Not only does this spread orange fur on all their clothes, it infuses it with a lingering stench that sends air fresheners crying to their mommies.

Sci-Fi Psychology- Force them to watch every disaster movie that features crashing aircraft, plague-spreading monkeys, canoe trips in Arkansas or any of the Baldwin Brothers. This will serve to discourage them from ever leaving home again.

Finally, if all else fails, there is a last resort. It is complexity in its simplest form.

It requires a doughnut and a bag of catnip.

Just before your two legger leaves on any trip requiring air travel, place the bag of catnip inside the suitcase within the folded clothes. Then take the doughnut and rub it liberally on the outside of the suitcase. 

Once the two legger arrives at the airport, the police will be drawn to the smell of the doughnut and will insist upon "inspecting" the luggage. During the inspection, they will find the bag of catnip and your two legger's trip will be cancelled.

Although this will prolong them being away, they should be home in five to seven years (three with good behavior).

Sleep Disorder

I am concerned about my two leggers.

Of late, they have taken up the nasty habit of "sleeping in" on the days that they are not required to go to work.

I find this unacceptable, unforgivable, inconsiderate and annoying.

You will recall from earlier post thingies that we feline types are banished from the sleeping chamber of the two leggers while they sleep. I have found this practice to be somewhat of a two-edged sword. While it allows us free reign over the rest my house to cause chaos during the darkest hours of the night, it also prevents us from waking them whenever we require their services.

In the past, I have always been able to summon the two leggers with the simple act of breaking something in a loud and amusing manner. However, it has been my experience that the later they lay abed, the more difficult it becomes to rouse them.

I have employed many methods of waking them which seem to work for a while. But, like a drug-resistant bacterium thingy, they soon grow immune to each new tactic and continue their slumber.

At first I ordered Tiger Lily to stand at their door and whine plaintively. This was at first greeted with shouts of  "TIGER!! SHUT UP!", and "TIGER!! I SAID SHUT UP!!". Sometimes it was even followed by "DAMMIT TIGER!! SHUT UP!".  Once on spaghetti night, I even heard "YO TIGRE! SHUT UPPA YOU MOUTH!". But soon, they began locking Tiger Lily in the computer room at night and that weapon was denied me. I smacked her for her failure and went back to the drawing board.

Next, I ordered Jaq to sing the most annoying songs at their door. Unfortunately, she didn't know any Justin Beiber songs and settled for a medley of Gangsta Rap. After five minutes of listening to her threaten to "pop a cap in someone's bizzle and majizzle", the female two legger opened the door, proclaimed that she was "the cutest wittle kitty on Earth" and invited her to sleep with them for the remainder of the evening. This annoyed me so much that I felt compelled to smack Tiger Lily.

I decided that Ivan should give it a try. At first he wasn't interested in waking the two leggers. But after I explained that their new habit of sleeping late was responsible for his breakfast being delayed, he found his motivation and joined in with a vengeance. He began launching himself at their door repeatedly. Each time he hit the door, the entire house shook.  BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! I thought that this would surely stir them to rise earlier. However, the two leggers were craftier than I gave them credit for. The next evening, the male installed a mirror on the door. As Ivan approached the door, he discovered another large orange tabby staring back at him. After much hissing and confusion, Ivan made friends with the interloper and spent the rest of the night grooming the mirror.

After smacking Tiger Lily for Ivan's failure, I figured that as usual, it was up to me to solve this dilemma. I tried to come up with a noise that would cause any two legger to leap from their bed in a fit of irritation and induced insomnia. I was unable to procure a Taylor Swift CD thingy but fortunately I am extremely adept at faking the sound of hacking up hairballs.

Simplicity at its best. I stand outside their door and say "HSSSSSSKKKK.......HSSSSSSSSKK......ACK ACK ACK..........HSSSSSSSKK" . Invariably, within 3.62 seconds a two legger throws open the door with a wad of paper towels clutched in their paw. They then watch until satisfied that it was a false alarm and return to their bed. As soon as I hear the sound of gentle snoring, I repeat my performance.

This strategy worked so well that I gave Tiger Lily a celebratory smack.

Recipe For Disaster

This weekend has possibly been one of the most amusing weekends in the history of my Kingdom.

You see, this weekend marked the confluence of three holidays (two minor, one major) in my house. May 10th marked my sixth birthday. May 12th is both the birthday of my male two legger (he turns 47 which in cat years equals 14,739) as well as the day that all two leggers set aside to honor their mothers.

My amusement has absolutely nothing to do with these three events.

Well, almost nothing.........

This morning, my male two legger decided that he would surprise his mate by baking homemade biscuit thingies. For those of you unfamiliar with my male two legger's baking skills, I should first explain that he has the same aptitude for cooking that bricks have for swimming. His reputation for poor cooking is so well-known that federal law requires the manufacturers of ovens to place a picture of him in their owners manuals in the "caution" section.

Back to the biscuit thingies. The male got up early and began preparing the recipe. This consisted of heating the oven to 975 degrees, dirtying four bowls before finding one the correct size and scattering so much flour around the kitchen that it looked like the Pillsbury Doughboy had become a suicide bomber. After baking the biscuit thingies for the appropriate amount of time, he pulled the pan out of the oven, placed it atop the stove and left the biscuits to cool. The fact that the pan bowed slightly as he lifted it should have been considered an omen that perhaps the biscuit thingies were not as "light and flaky" as the recipe said they should be.

The male two legger returned to the kitchen ten minutes later with his sleepy-headed mate in tow. The look on her face when she beheld the state of her kitchen indicated that she was indeed "surprised". Once she stopped crying, the confused male pulled down a plate and dropped one of the biscuit thingies upon it. As he cleaned up the shards of broken plate, he realized that perhaps something had gone awry with the recipe and declared the biscuit thingies "inedible". He then took his mate "out" for breakfast.

As soon as they left, I decided to further investigate what the male had created. As always, the first test I conducted was the "gravity test". I slowly pushed one of the biscuit thingies to the edge of the counter and let gravity work its magic. This proved most unfortunate for Tiger Lily who happened to be walking by at that very moment and took the impact squarely on her noggin. I looked down at her seemingly lifeless form and thought to myself "What have I done? Have I killed her?" She soon regained consciousness and began whining about having a concussion thingy.

 Another biscuit thingy quickly ended the whining. 

Meanwhile, Ivan had begun batting the first biscuit thingy around the floor. It seems that what the biscuit lacked in taste, it made up for in projectile potential.  This made for the best game of Hallway Hockey we have ever played. Not only did the "puck" damage everything it contacted, it left deep gouges in the hardwood floor upon its passing. After a couple of hours, the two leggers returned and the game was abandoned.

Final score:
3 vases
4 picture frames
4 knock knacks
1 lamp
and numerous dents in the drywall as well as various nicks in furniture, floorboards, etc....

Oddly, the two leggers did not seem pleased with the "re-purposing" of their breakfast. With numerous curses and much mumbling, they cleaned up the playing field and disposed of the biscuits.

Fortunately, Jaq was able to save one by batting it under the entertainment center.

Tonight we're gonna take turns dropping it on eight leggers.

Psych-Out

Some subjects are simply too ridiculous and stupid to post about.

However, that has never stopped me before, so here goes:

It has recently come to my attention that there is a small group of two leggers that have deemed themselves "Pet Psychologists".

If you could see my face right now you may be under the false impression that I am smirking with mild derision at such a ludicrous idea. In all actuality, I am smirking with great derision at such a ludicrous idea.

Now if you think that I am about to mock these "Pet Psychologists" with scathing wit and sarcasm....

Obviously you know me too well.

Make no mistake, I applaud their idealism and devotion to their four legged masters, however misled they may be.

I suppose these "Pet Psychologists" devoted much money and time to learning their discipline. They probably attended some big-time university thingy like The Arkansas University for The Performing Arts and Criminally Insane. They most likely took classes at AUTPACI like "What's My Cat Thinking? 101" and "What's That Guy's Cat Thinking? 202" and perhaps "Intro into Why's My Dog Thingy So Stupid?". They probably even spent minutes observing cats in their natural environments (litter boxes and windowsills).  After several years of studying, AUTPACI deems them worthy of escape and they are released into the wild.

They then buy multiple turtlenecks, move to a small unsuspecting town, hang up their shingle thingy and set up an office where they attempt to tell other two leggers what their four leggers are thinking for $180 per hour.

For those of you interested in what we are thinking, allow me to save you your hard earned money.

For those in servitude to cats:
If your cat seems listless- It is bored and thinking of killing something.
If your cat is laying down with eyes closed- It is sleeping and dreaming of killing something.
If your cat is pacing from window to window with tail twitching- It sees something outside that it wishes to kill.
If your cat is standing next to its food bowl- It wishes you to kill something and place it in the bowl.
If your cat is scratching your furniture whilst glaring at you- It is threatening to kill something.
If your cat is playing with its catnip mousie thingy- It is demonstrating how easily it can kill something.
If your cat is walking down the hallway with tail waving lazily- It has discovered something to kill and is simply waiting for you to go to bed.
If your cat is lolling on its back with a goofy grin on its face- It is Ivan and should be ignored.
If your cat is whining- It is Tiger Lily and should be smacked.
If your cat is in a box singing show tunes-It is Jaq and should be institutionalized.
If your cat is using the litter box- It had to go potty.
If your cat is writing a blog thingy- It is plotting the overthrow of Western Civilization and should be obeyed.

For owners of dog thingies:
If you dog thingy is breathing- It is a dog thingy and thinking of sniffing someone's butt.

In conclusion, I would like to quote the imminent two legged scientist Dr. Sigmund Freud:

"Anyone that thinks they know the mind of a cat is freakin nuts."

War and Pieces

Spring has finally returned to the Pacific Northwest.

As many of my longtime minions know, Spring is the harbinger of many thingies.
Bob returns to my yard from wherever avian drag queens spend the Winter.
Squirrel thingies once again infest my yard and attempt to mock me.
Bird thingies are once again plentiful for my nourishment.
The two leggers begin their manic gardening activity.
Ivan awakes from hibernation (though no one can tell).
Flower thingies bloom.
The male two legger begins yelling at the talking box thingy because his baseball team is losing ( as opposed to Fall when he yells at the talking box thingy because his FOOTBALL team is losing).
The Sun shows itself for an hour each week.

And finally, total war is waged upon the eight leggers.

Every Spring, the population of eight leggers in the Pacific Northwest soars. They hatch their creepy little offspring and begin infesting every nook and cranny that they can possibly find. They sit in closets and snicker. They sit in corners and snicker. They sit in drawers and snicker. They sit in remote corners of rooms and snicker. They sit in corners of drawers located in remote corners of closets and snicker. The sound of snickering can be deafening.

I realize that the definition of "snickering" can be ambiguous, so just to be clear, I will define it for you now:

Snicker- Pronounced "snicker" verb: To laugh or giggle in a menacing or evil manner. Often implemented to imply evil, sneaky or underhanded intentions. Derived from the Olde English word "snicker" which was used to imply  "evil, sneaky or underhanded intent".

They snicker, snicker and occasionally..........snicker.

Snickering is a prime symptom of evil. Ergo- anything that snickers is by definition evil.  

While I do not mind the eight leggers "creeping out" my two leggers, it offends me that they may attempt to usurp my position as Chief Creeper Outer of All Things Two Legged. Therefore, as Benevolent, Kind-Hearted, Gentle-Natured and All Loving Dictator, I have decided that all eight leggers must be summarily executed with extreme prejudice and amusement.

I ordered Ivan to seek out all eight leggers and bring them unto my presence. The were to be given a a fair trial after which they would be executed in a most merciful and delicious method.

However, the Bathroom spider heard of my edict and attempted to supplicate me by offering a sacrifice. As I entered my bathroom last night, the Bathroom Spider greeted me at the door with a supercilious smile upon his nasty little face. He waved four of his eight nasty little arms in the direction of the tub thingy. Upon examining the tub, I beheld an arachnid abattoir. This was obviously an attempt at appeasing a blood thirsty deity that was intent upon visiting an unholy vengeance upon all snickering supplicants.

There were tiny legs scattered everywhere upon the porcelain of the tub. Here and there a thorax or a tiny eye staring blankly into space.

The carnage was exquisite.

I accepted the sacrifice and informed the Bathroom Spider that he would be allowed to remain among the living on the condition that he remain in the bathroom and never venture outside lest he be smacked by the Royal smacking paw.

He offered to walk me back to the living room.........  

Can't say I didn't warn him.