Savoring Spring

The month of May has always rated in the top twelve of my favorite months.

Worldwide it is the month of beginnings.

In Texas, it is the beginning of the "dry" season (which will last until January 2017).

In California, it is the beginning of the "damn it's hot, but we may freeze tomorrow" season.

In Canada, it is the beginning of the "May hockey" season. Every month in Canada is the beginning of hockey season, but in this case, it occurs in May.

In Arkansas, they are unsure what season it is because someone broke the only functioning calender.

Here in the Pacific Northwest, it is the beginning of what the meteorologists refer to as the "slightly less rainy than April, more rainy than June, somewhat less moist than July, and let's not even think about September" season.

But all across the Northern Hemisphere, it marks the middle of Spring and begins the season where young animals are born and nurtured and sent off from their nests, lairs and dens. This is why they are called "offspring".

These younglings can often be seen wandering around wooded and grassy areas without their parents, seemingly lost, alone and defenseless causing two leggers to assume that they require rescue. I often receive emails from concerned two leggers asking my sage advice as to what they should do if they happen across one of these apparently helpless orphans.

I have consulted with several veterinarian types and the consensus seems to indicate that the young critters should be left alone. They usually have parents lurking nearby keeping an eye on their young and will intervene should a predator approach. Oftentimes, a mother seal will deposit her pup on a beach while they go out and hunt. Though the pup may seem abandoned, they are not. The mother seal will return within a matter of hours. Bird thingies will often force their brood from the nest as a way to teach them to fly. Though the young fledglings sometimes fail in their first attempt, they usually learn rather quickly afterwards. Even baby bears can be found on rural hiking trails on occasion.

So the veterinary two leggers urge that if you happen to find a young critter that you feel has been abandoned by its parents, you should leave it alone.

I disagree.

I strongly suggest that if you should find a young animal in distress, you should immediately find a box large enough to contain the animal with ample space for it to move around, but not so much that it may injure itself. Add some hay or other soft material to keep it warm. Provide fresh water and air holes for proper ventilation.

After ensuring that the animal is safely secured within the box, you should immediately contact me and I will provide you with my address so that you can send it to me. You can even send it anonymously if you wish.

In a totally unrelated note, I'd like to announce the upcoming release of my newest project "Cujo's Baby Cookbook". Within its pages you will find recipes for my favorite paw-licking dishes such as:

Baby Bird Bourganaisse
Baby Squirrel Succotash
Baby Bunny Biscuits
Baby Partridge Pancakes
and my personal favorite, Baby Possum Pot Roast.

A section in the back of the book features Tiger Lily's whine pairings.

The Statue of Limitations

About eight months ago, I discovered that my Kingdom had become infested with ferals.

A black polydactyl female and her kitten had taken up residence in my backyard.

Of course my two leggers, being the bunny-hugging, tree-worshipping, love-all-living-thingies, hippy types that they are, immediately began feeding these free-loaders thus encouraging them to stick around and mooch off of my Kingdom.

These ferals do not amuse me.

Of all the transient four leggers who have passed through my yard, they annoy more than any other. Every night and day, whether rain or shine, wind or calm, the two leggers faithfully fill their bowls with food and fresh water.  Granted they do not feed them the same food that is on the Royal Diet, instead opting to supply them with a cheaper generic cat food, however the food is kept in the same cupboard as mine, therefore it belongs to me and should not be rationed out without my express permission.

Now don’t think me heartless. I have absolutely no issue with feeding those that earn their keep. Even Tiger Lily has her uses. The Royal Smacking Bag may be annoying, but she serves to keep my smacking paw in shape and is a useful outlet for my aggression. I would even go so far as to admit that if I ever woke one morning to find her gone, I may take notice of her absence. But these vagrants serve no discernible function to justify their existence. The bird thingies come and go at their leisure, seemingly safe in the knowledge that the ferals harbor them no ill will. The squirrel thingy continues to dance and cavort across my yard without a care in the world. Even the eight leggers have no fear of them. If anything, the eight legger population has increased since their arrival.

As far as I can tell, they believe that they are expected to do nothing all day but follow the sunbeam across the yard, napping upon my deck, and eat their fill whenever the two leggers fill their bowl.

Other than pouncing on the odd dandelion and using the flowerbeds as litter boxes, I can detect no feline instinct whatsoever. 

I have attempted to educate them as to their feline responsibilities. I begin by slamming Ivan’s head against the window repeatedly until I have their attention. I then select the nearest gray tabby and chew on her head in order to illustrate the level of violence I expect them to inflict upon the squirrel thingy. Sometimes Ivan and I will both ambush Tiger Lily in order to exhibit the benefits of teamwork in a ritual squirrel  beatdown.

All to no effect.

They continue to engage in their annoyingly pacifistic behavior.

However, as I write this, I believe I have discovered the cause of their completely uncat-like behavior. Several years ago, in a laughable effort to make my kingdom a more “peaceful” environment, the two legger erected a statue in my backyard of an obese two legger who is sitting with his legs and arms crossed and a serene smile upon his chubby face. At first I thought that they were erecting a shrine to Dom DeLuise, but I later learned that the statue was of an ancient two legger named Buddha. Apparently  this Buddha guy believed that all living creatures should love and respect all other living creatures. That by refraining from all forms of violence and anger, perfect inner peace could be obtained.

I suspect he was a dog person. 

Anyway, they stuck this statue in my yard and now all the little critters are inspired by it. They hop, cavort and romp around my yard in peaceful ecstasy, predator and prey, sure in the belief that as long as the statue remains, no harm can come.

The statue must die.

Once again, I find my efforts foiled by the sliding glass door thingy. Once again, I find my wrath denied.  But I have faith that soon the statue shall meet its end. For you see, it is Spring. The rains are beginning to subside and it is only a matter of time before the male begins his annual ritual of going outside and laying waste to every bit of overgrown greenery he can reach.  While in the grips of this chlorophyll induced weeding frenzy, he is not particularly discriminating in what he attacks. Basically anything green and leafy is considered fair game for him and his weapons of grass destruction. Given that Buddha Boy is currently nestled in a large tuft of overgrown grass with only the tip of his acorn-shaped head thingy peeking out from the middle, I feel confident that this little symbol of peace and tranquility is soon to become the victim of another senseless act of lawn warfare. I only await the sweet sound of trimmer blades striking stone and with the destruction of the ancient peacenik, the proper order of destruction and violence will be restored to my Kingdom.

Soon, my fat little nemesis…….soon.

Complete Constitutional Chaos Created by Cujo Cat

As Universal Dictator of All Universe Thingies (known and unknown), Benevolent Dictator, Grand Poobah and Potentate of The World, etc....... I find that occasionally I must offer direction and advice to the governments of the countries that ultimately serve me.

****DISCLAIMER THINGY****

This advice should in no way reflect upon any political party, administration (past or present) or be construed as an indictment upon any individuals who are serving or may have served in any political office.........unless they need a good smack or may have needed a good smack in the past, present or future. 

                                                                *************

Okay, back to business. The primary problem with governments run by two leggers is the fact that they are governments run by two leggers. 

When one strips the veneer from their surface, two leggers are all basically alike. They are driven by the similar motivations, they have similar survival instincts and they make similar decisions based on these instincts. I am not condemning them for these similarities, I am simply stating that they are not diverse enough to govern themselves.

Therefore, I propose a few changes.....

The Executive Branch will of course, be run by cats. As we are the most intelligent and noble of all creatures, this is the obvious choice. The President would be chosen by his/her intelligence, honesty, integrity and ability to slay dust bunnies.

The Legislative Branch will consist entirely of goat thingies. They spend their lives butting their heads against each other, and other inanimate objects, and therefore the transition into their congressional roles should be simple. 

The Judicial Branch is a bit more complicated. It will consist of a wide variety of creatures. Cows, pigs, chickens, ducks, NASCAR fans and other barnyard animals will be tasked with the interpretation and judgement of the laws enacted by the other branches of government.

One of the biggest problems in the current judiciary system is the constant filing of frivolous lawsuits. Basically, anyone can sue anyone else for any reason they choose. This results in abuse of the system and gums up the works for those who truly have need of fair and just mediation. Therefore, under my administration, at the initiation of any lawsuit, the litigants shall be assigned an official Court Monkey. If at any time during the legal process the litigant shows any signs of frivolity, the Court Monkey will immediately begin pelting the offending litigant with copious amounts of its own poo. This practice will not only deter those prone to filing such ridiculous lawsuits, but it will also make them easier to recognize whenever they are met in public.

 A mandatory spay/neuter program will be instituted for any singer or performer who has a police record consisting of more than three misdemeanors or one felony. 

The IRS will be abolished and replaced by a gang of porcupines who will be less likely to stick it to everyone than the current IRS.

We will solve the energy crisis by developing technology that will harness the nervous energy of chihuahuas and teacup poodle dogs.

Large orange tabbies will serve as border security. We will blanket the border with heating pads causing the large orange tabbies to plop along the entire perimeter. As with the Court Monkeys. this serves as both a deterrent as well as marking the offenders. Anyone attempting to cross the border illegally will have their ankles severely chomped causing great pain and lower leg scarring.

Finally, as part of restoring the failing infrastructure of our transportation system, I will use squirrel thingies to re-pave the roads.

I figure it will only require about 300 per mile if we slice them thin.

Announcing CujoCam!

By popular demand I have been working on a top secret project thingy.

CujoCam is now up and running! Just follow the link below!

CujoCam

March Madness

Never let it be said that I do not attempt to help my two leggers.

In a totally unappreciated attempt to ease their burden of giving me treats whenever I desire them, I have often tried a more "self-serve" approach to providing myself with cat treats. I watch where they store the aforementioned treats and then I reward myself for good behavior whenever I feel they are warranted. I have even been known to reward myself for bad behavior. However, when I reward my own bad behavior, I do it in a mocking and sarcastic manner so that I am assured that I didn't really deserve the treat, but only gave it to myself to make myself feel guilty in the unlikely hope that I will not repeat said bad behavior.

One would think that the two leggers would be impressed and appreciative that I have taken steps to relieve their workload.

They are not.

Instead, every time I find out where they are stashing these little tuna-flavored morsels of ambrosia, they hurriedly grab all the treats and relocate them to another hidey hole. It usually takes all of five minutes to find their latest stash, but this last time they got a bit cagier........

Whenever they thought I deserved a treat, they would disappear from the room and when they returned, they had a couple of treats in hand. If I attempted to follow and ascertain the location of the treats, they would simply refuse to get my treats lest I discover where they lay hidden. I attempted to find the treats by using my incredible sense of smell, however try as I may, I could not locate them. Finally, I decided to use logic:

Logic is my best weapon.

So I thought, "If I was a two legger who wanted to prevent my incredibly intelligent (and strikingly handsome) housecat  from raiding his kitty treats, where would I hide them?" With this thought in mind, I sought out Tiger Lily and smacked her around until she gave up the location.   

It seems that they were hidden in the cabinet above the washing machine thingy.

I must grudgingly admit that this particular location was a stroke of genius on the part of the two leggers. I suspect it was the female's idea because this level of thinking is well above the male's level of intelligence. The cupboard above the washing machine thingy was clever on several points. The smell of the detergents masked the smell of the treats. The noise of the machine ensured that we felines seldom entered the room and whenever the clothes come out of the dryer thingy, I am too busy depositing hair upon the clean clothes to be bothered to look in the cabinets.

Immediately upon this revelation, I set out to open the cabinet of goodies. Unfortunately, the cabinet door thingy had a springed hinge and every time I hooked a claw in the door and before I could grab the treats, it would shut itself with a rather loud thump. This drew the attention of the two leggers and I was chased from the room with numerous sprays from the water squirty thingy. This only stiffened my resolve and I vowed revisit the cabinet after they retired for the evening.

Around 2am, with the two leggers safely ensconced in their bedroom, Ivan and I approached the cabinet.  I hooked my claw in the door, pulled it open about three inches and reached for the treats. As I reached in my claw relaxed and..........thump.

I realized that I needed something dense and hard to hold open the door so that I could gain a proper purchase and swing it beyond the grasp of the spring. Ivan's head finally proved useful and after several more thumps, I was able to finally pry the door open revealing a veritable cornucopia of kitty treats.

Having scarfed a large portion, I decided a nap was in order and repaired to my throne.

Approximately an hour later I was awakened by a dreadful yet amusing sound. Ivan was romping-stomping up and down the hallway, all crooky-tailed and trilling. He would slide to a stop at the end of the hallway, arch his back, poof and then in a flurry of scrabbling legs shoot down to the other end of the hall and slide headfirst into the couch. He would frantically look up at me as if thinking "DUUUUUUDE!" and then reverse the process slamming into the closet door at the opposite end of the hall.

The furnishings in the hall had suffered greatly from Ivan's actions and the current score was:
Ivan-12
Hallway decor-0

 Jaq and Tiger Lily sat watching this with bemused expressions on their faces and giggling behind their paws.

It seems that having eaten his way through the treats, Ivan discovered a large cache of catnip that had been sent as offerings from some of my FaceBook minions.

Think I'll go finish off the treats now. I get the feeling that after the two leggers wake up and see the results of our efforts, the treats may be scarce for a while.

The Sainted Truth

Another two legger holiday is upon us.

This one is called "St. Patrick's Day".

From what I can tell, this holiday involves two leggers suddenly suffering a mass delusion that they all share a common Irish ancestry. It requires that they adorn themselves with green clothing and consume anything even remotely beer-like.

They say that curiosity killed the cat. In this matter I assure you that I am destined to live a VERY long life given the fact that I am without a doubt, 100%, certifiably, completely, totally and irrevocably the total opposite of curious about St. Patrick's Day. I could live another twenty years happy in the knowledge that I have absolutely no knowledge in regards to this holiday.

However, I do feel a certain responsibility to educate my minions and have decided to spare two or three minutes of my invaluable nap time to thoroughly research this subject and enlighten my readers.

This is what I have discovered.

St. Patrick's Day was originally celebrated by Irish immigrants to commemorate a two legger priest named Patrick Stewart who drove the Borg out of Ireland in the late 1980s. The Irish are generally a fairly amiable lot with a "live and let live" attitude, however they found the Borg to be completely unreasonable companions since they kept assimilating the sheep and never offered to buy a round at the local pub. Sir Patrick Stewart heard the pleas of the locals and drove the Borg from the Emerald Isle.

The Irish are not the only culture to celebrate saints.

In Canada, they began celebrating "St. Gretzky Day" after Wayne Gretzky drove Americans completely out of the sport of Hockey. He originally invented the sport when he introduced the idea of adding sticks and a puck to the weekly event of "It's Saturday, Let's All Go Out On The Ice And Fight for a Couple of Hours".

In Seattle, they celebrate "St. Juan Valdez Day" after Columbian coffee farmer, Juan Valdez who drove out anyone caught ordering decaffeinated beverages. They were driven to Oregon where they now sell chainsaw carvings, Birkenstock sandals and ugly sweaters.

In Arkansas, one the most popular holidays is "St. Bubba's Day". St. Bubba didn't drive anyone out of Arkansas, however he was driving his '57 Chevy when the steering went out causing him to drive in counter-clockwise circles for five hours. After the first hour, several of his buddies took notice, thought it looked fun and joined him thus inventing the sport of NASCAR.

One final note about St. Patrick: After being driven from Ireland, the Borg settled in America where they found their natural calling in politics.

Downton Tabby

My two leggers have recently begun watching a program on the talking box thingy called "Downton Abbey".

Since they have been watching it every night in the same room that contains both my throne and my firebox thingy, I have been subjected to a nightly dose of very British behavior.

Normally, I am enthusiastically indifferent to the programs they watch at night. I consider the average two legger programming to be foolish and unrealistically optimistic at best, benign and mind-numbing at worst. However, I still pay attention if only to mock them later for their choices.

However, after having been exposed to this new show over the past several weeks, for some reason I find my interest somewhat engaged.

From what I have gathered, the premise of Downton Abbey is the story of a very small, select and priviliged group of individuals who are served by a very large group who cater to their every want and whimsy. The small group spend their days lounging about, amusing themselves with various inane activities whilst the larger group bustles around, seeing to their comfort, feeding them, grooming them and basically seeing to all their needs.

I can't quite put my paw on it, but for some odd reason, this concept appeals to me.

The British have always been somewhat of an enigma to me. They seem to be a society of extremes.

They have given the world such geniuses as Monty Python, Benny Hill and Rowan Atkinson. Yet they have also produced such hacks as Shakespeare, Chaucer and Dickens.

That being said, as a cat I must say that I hold their class system in high regard.

So since the two leggers enjoy watching Downton Abbey so much, I have decided that it is time to run my own Kingdom in a similar manner.

In keeping with the British tradition of never using a single name when six could easily suffice, the two leggers will hence address me as "Lord Cujo, Prince of Paws, Duke of Draperies, Earl of Smackdom and Knight of The Royal Order of Knock Knacks".

Sir Ivan will be my Hair Apparent. His duties will be to keep the two legged servants in line and the eight leggers nervous.

Lady Jaq will serve the part of the clueless youngster who sits around all day dreaming of love, romance and other such myths.

Lady Tiger Lily is appointed to be a "Lady-in-waiting". She will lounge about waiting for me to come along and administer her daily smack.

In other words, things will remain exactly the way they have always been. We'll just have fancier titles.

Admittedly, I was considering making Ivan a Peer, but judging from the odors emanating from the litterbox, he just did that himself.