Biting Remarks

The first rule of Bite Club is you don't talk about Bite Club.

Okay, that was just silly, but it it brings up a subject I have been pondering. Namely, the wide variety of weapons that we feline types employ and the factors that go into our choice of weapons for any given circumstance.

Anyone who has had the honor to subjugated by a feline can tell you that cats have two primary weapons systems.

There is The Chomp that consists of 2753 sharp, pointy, ankle-piercing, needle-like,  daggers 'O death. It is useful for close quarters type combat and is extremely effective as a training aid when attempting to educate a belligerent or particularly stubborn two legger. In my opinion, with a few exceptions, The Chomp should be utilized as a final resort or "nuclear" option.   

The second weapon system (and my preferred choice) is The Paw. Those of you who have met me or have followed my teachings for any length of time are well aware that I employ the The Paw often and liberally. The Paw is actually composed of four individual units divided into two separate sections. The forepaws have "long range" capability while the hindpaws  are strictly a "close range" self-defense system.

It has been my experience that individual cats each have their own preferences according to their temperament and body type.

For instance, Ivan definitely prefers The Chomp. His shamefully short legs and extraordinarily odd body shape practically make his use of The Paw obsolete. Unlike 99.832% of cats on Earth, his mouth actually has a longer reach than his paw. If Tyrannosaurus Rex had been clad in orange stinky fur, I'd profess that dinosaurs still lived among us. Ivan also suffers from a very rare psychological condition known as Mybutthatlooksyummyopathy that causes him to consider any threat as a potential food source.

Personally, my weapon of choice is, of course, The Paw. My long and lanky physique allows me an incredibly long reach, thus enabling me to smack any target long before they are close enough to pose a threat to my royal personage. It is a well-known fact that my paw is so far-reaching that it enables me to neutralize anything inches or even days before it comes too close.

The Paw is a wonderful implement during ambushes, knock knack destruction, boogitation and whiny gray tabby smackdowns.

Generally, when training two leggers, I find it wise to begin with The Paw and then progress to The Chomp with various degrees of escalation between.

 An inattentive minion may be reminded of their servitude by a simple tapping on the leg or shoulder with claws withdrawn and an occasional "MROWR" for emphasis. If this fails, another tap or two with claws extended may be called for. If the two legger continues to resist, bloodletting may be necessary to recall the two legger to his duty.

If at this point the bleeding two legger has not gotten the point (pardon the pun), they are obviously actively ignoring my request. This flagrant act of insubordination and insolence calls for more aggressive measures thus justifying the employment of a Chomp. Through extensive experimentation, I have discovered that chomping the pinky toe of the left foot invariably gets my point across and the two legger generally returns to his proper servility. 

Jaq is somewhat passive and seldom employs either weapon. She seems to rely upon nauseatingly sweet affection and brown-nosing to bend the two leggers to her will. Fortunately for her sake, the two leggers are weak in the head thingy and easily influenced.

Tiger Lily, on the other paw, seems to believe that constant whining and complaining will simply irritate the two leggers into doing her bidding. Sadly, she is often correct.

In past posts, I have often concluded the post by smacking Tiger Lily. However, it has been mentioned that perhaps I smack her too much. So tonight, even though she deserves it in the worst way, I decided that I would not smack her.

I chomped her.

SPECIAL OFFER!!!

Okay, the whole "Dr. Cujo" thingy did not work out.

Within days of opening my practice, I began receiving correspondence from several organizations that seemed to take issue with my medical endeavors. The American Medical Association (AMA), The World Health Organization (WHO), The Center for Disease Control (CDC), The Arkansas Bureau of Squirrel Husbandry (ABSH) and The International Office of Acronym Administration (IOAA),  all wrote to me express their concerns about my new vocation.

Apparently in order to practice medicine in the State of Washington, one is required to be "licensed". One is required to go to "college".  One is required to "be knowledgeable". According to the many letters I received, it can take up to ten years to become a doctor.

It seems that watching several episodes of The Dr. Oz show and over 45 minutes of internet research (between naps) is not "good enough" for some people.

The heck with that.

So I've decided to make money by other means......

While watching the talking box thingy, I came across something called an "infomercial". It was incredibly annoying and therefore captured my attention immediately. It was hosted by an over-caffienated two legger who was obviously very skeptical of his own intentions as well as doubtful of his own sanity.  He kept shouting stuff like "I CAN'T BELIEVE I'M DOING THIS!!" and "I MUST BE CRAZY!!"

His manic insanity aside, he must have been doing something right because bunches of two leggers were lining up up with their money and credit cards in hand.

I don't even remember what he was selling, only that it was plastic, did a bunch of stuff and he was "practically giving it away".

I can do that........I just need something to sell.......

Have I got a deal for you! 

Today and today only, I am offering this one of a kind deal!

It whines! 
It dines! 
It will drive your pets WILD!!!
Got a neighbor that is always being a nuisance? Throwing wild parties and causing noise? 
Install this beauty and get some revenge! They will beat a path to your door, asking you to "Please, for the love of God, just turn it off!"
Mice and other household pests will leave and never come back!

According to the American Medical Association, stress is the number one cause of death in the United States.....That is why YOU MUST buy this product! 
You can slap, smack and attack it whenever you are feeling down. Guaranteed to lower your blood pressure instantly!

 
Call now and I will even throw in two pairs of Extra Heavy-Duty, Industrial Strength, Justin Bieber-Proof Ear Plugs!!

Don't let this deal get away! Quantities are limited! (one)

BUT WAIT A MINUTE!!!!

Act now and I will throw in this limited-edition, one-of-a-kind Home Amusement Center:

That's right! You too can own this magnificent example of curious insanity! It comes with a complete soundtrack of American Music as well as some selections of 60's British Rock. 

There is nothing quite like waking at 3am to the beautiful sound of "The Who" being sung from a shoebox beneath your bed!  

And it NEVER NEEDS BATTERIES!!!!

Simply place it in the nearest window to recharge the solar cells!

Absolutely FREE!! 

Just pay a separate "shipping and handling" fee ($136.00).

Your order will be shipped to you wrapped in this super special protective "Ultra Blue Zig-Zag" patterned wrapping material at NO EXTRA CHARGE!

ACT NOW!! Our operator is standing by!

 

 

Doctored Evidence

It occurs to me that perhaps I am in the wrong business.

Oh sure, being a cat, a blogger, and author of two books that appear repeatedly on the "New York Times Worst Seller List" has its perks. I have made friends and minions all over the world thingy. I have enough cat toys and treats to last a dozen life times. FaceBook and internet types hang on my every word and follow my every command. I spend my days napping and my nights creating mayhem and chaos with no fear of suffering consequences. I must admit, I have a good life.

This is all well and good, but I find it lacks something..........

Money.

I have no idea what I'd use it for, but I want it.

I have observed that the best way to procure money is to have two leggers give it to you.

While my two leggers were out yesterday, I decided to look through their financial records. While perusing their checkbook, I noticed that they give a lot of money to doctors and vet thingies. It seems that every month they are writing checks to various doctors, hospitals and laboratories. Now, I don't like hospitals, and laboratory has the word "labor" in it, so I have decided to become a doctor.

I spent the rest of the day (between naps) looking at various medical websites, watching "Dr. Oz", and pondering all things medical. I even signed up (using the two legger's credit card) for an online course that promises to teach me Latin in 2,734 easy lessons. I believe I can now hang my shingle and start my new practice. 

However, being the conscientious individual that I am, I decided that it would be prudent to try out my newly learned medical skills on my fellow four leggers before revealing my new vocation to the two leggers and demanding their money.

Ivan was my first patient. His examination did not go well. I kept telling him to stick out his tongue and say "Ahhhhhhh". But he was uncooperative and kept saying "Ummmmmmmm". I tried shining a flashlight in his ear, but it only made his eyes twinkle. Finally, I made him lay down and I attempted to listen to his heart. Unfortunately, aside from being big and dumb, Ivan is also acutely ticklish and I couldn't hear his heart over his incessant giggling. Though the exam was difficult, I gleaned enough information to make a diagnosis. Ivan is suffering from Acute Cranial Density. This condition is caused by hardening and thickening of the skull thingy that effectively blocks any intellectual stimuli from entering his noggin while simultaneously preventing what few thoughts he may generate from exiting. Just like his intellect, his prognosis is dim.

I called Tiger Lily in as my next victi......patient. Due to an unfortunate misunderstanding followed by a somewhat sketchy restraining order, I am not allowed within six inches of her, so only a visual examination was performed. Her condition was immediately apparent. Tiger Lily is a victim of a genetic disorder thingy called Irritable Mrowl Syndrome. The primary symptom of IMS is the uncontrollable vocalization of sounds that tend to annoy and anger any semi-intelligent organism within a five-mile range. Unfortunately there is no known cure for IMS, however, it can sometimes be controlled with liberal and aggressive doses of my newly developed drugs Smackitol and Smackitagin.

Jaq proved to be my most difficult patient. She was perfectly willing to be examined, but I quickly realized that some ailments are not necessarily physical. Her ailment seems to be of the mind rather than the body. Her odd behavior, constant giggling, propensity to hiding in boxes and singing show tunes as well as uncontrolled fits of philosophy lead me to the inescapable diagnosis of Panicked Pecan Dementia. In layman's terms......She's freaking nuts.

After several minutes of research, I discovered that there is a simple cure for PPD. However, I have decided not to cure her or even tell her that it is treatable. It is not that the treatment is unorthodox or unethical, I just find her amusing to watch.

Now that I have proven my medical prowess, I will now sit back and wait for the money.

The Doctor is in.

I'm In Heat.....

Here in the Pacific Northwest, we have only three seasons.

Two rainy seasons separated by Summer.

In a "normal" year, Summer begins on July 5th and usually runs it course by the early evening hours of July 7th. However, this year is different. Summer showed up in early June, and has refused to leave. Like an unwelcome house guest, it has shown up unexpectedly, without invitation, and will not take a hint. 

I do not like Summer.

The heating pad hides in the closet. The firebox thingy goes dormant like a sleeping dragon who can't be bothered to breathe its fiery exhalation. The bathroom floor, usually so cozy and warm, refuses to attend to its duty and remains cold and decidedly uncozy.

In contrast, the sunbeam, whose appearance is usually sporadic and unpredictable at best, has outstayed its welcome and become overly aggressive. It no longer gently warms and caresses us as we bask in the bay window. Instead, it seeks to bake and dehydrate us as if we have angered it in some manner and it wishes to punish us.

Some will say that it is not so bad because it is a "dry heat". My response: Ovens cook using "dry heat".

The days are long, sweaty, irritating, brain-numbing and stinky. I suppose this is why they are known as "dog days".

No, Summer does not amuse me.

This Summer is proving the most annoying on record. My Outer Kingdom is dry and parched. There is no cooling breeze.

Ivan just lies in the hallway like a stinky orange speedbump, only stirring when he hears the rattle of the two leggers filling his food bowl. Granted, laying idle is not particularly unusual for Ivan, but he is normally idle in a more active manner. His frantic inactivity is at an all-time low. I have tried to cheer him up by tossing Q-tips (his natural prey) at him, but he remains morose and disinterested.

Tiger Lily has been spending her days in the various, dark nooks and crannies.Obviously her strategy is to hide from the heat. Like Ivan and I, she tends to sleep more during the daytime while coming out in the cooler evening hours to get in her daily whining. Though her whining is as annoying as ever, in this heat, I cannot justify the effort it would require to smack her. Plus, if I am completely honest, I actually find myself agreeing with her complaints.

Jaq seems to be the only four legger unaffected by this heatwave. In fact, I suspect that she may be actually enjoying it. While the rest of us lay around in a heat-induced stupor, she bounces through the house singing various songs by The Beach Boys. While I find "surfer music" annoying, I didn't find her behavior intolerable until she suddenly jumped on the ironing board and belted out her rendition of "Surfing USA" while "hanging ten". Fortunately this drew the ire of the male two legger who removed the ironing/surf board and put it in the closet. Abashed, but undeterred, she settled down and softly hummed "Summer Breeze" by Seals &Croft.

According to the two legger whose job it is to guess the weather, there appears to be no end in sight to this massive heatwave. However, I have a plan.........

Tonight, we will honor the Native American Culture by performing a "Rain Dance".

A few hours after the two leggers go to bed, Ivan and I will begin the ceremony. It will involve house plants (representing nature), a water glass or two (representing....well, water), chanting (Jaq will suffice) and much thumping and wailing.

I am also considering a blood sacrifice, but I fear that Tiger Lily may already be suspicious..... 

Cryptic Chaos

The two leggers are fascinated with mysteries.

All mysteries......

Not just the typical whodunnit, somebody done went and kilt somebody else type mystery. They are interested in anything that makes one scratch their head thingy and wonder "What could it mean?".

One type of mystery that they love involves "cryptids". Cryptids are basically a class of critter that are suspected of existing despite the lack of any tangible evidence. Anytime there is a strange sound in the woods, a shadow on a roadside or a dead cow found in a field, someone steps forward and claims that there is a cryptid on the loose.

These shy monsters vary greatly in size and form, from the small, dog thingy-like Chupacabra of the American Southwest, to the huge, aquatic critters of Lake Champlain and Loch Ness. There are also an inordinate amount of hairy two legged cryptids like Bigfoot, Sasquatch, the Yeti, and Howard Stern.

 Every single sighting of a cryptid involves at least one of three common traits:
 1. A grainy photograph that could be interpreted as either an animal walking upright or a large, mobile vegetable, possibly of the tuber variety.
2. An eyewitness who invariably speaks with a Southern accent and could also be interpreted as either an animal walking upright or a large, mobile vegetable (though probably not of the tuber variety).  
3. Consumption of alcohol, recreational pharmaceuticals or bad sushi.

Now the reason I bring this up is simple.......

Two leggers spend bajillions of dollars to mount expeditions to remote locales in search of these elusive creatures while totally ignoring the cryptids that live in their very own households and back yards. Mysterious beings stalk and cavort throughout the night within a knock knack's throw of the blissfully sleeping two leggers. They are found in every society, in every country and upon every continent on Earth.

After an exhaustive, catnip-fueled, sleepless period of research lasting several minutes, I have collected several examples of such "domestic cryptids".  In my Kingdom alone I have discovered no fewer than four such beasties.

Evidence exists of a mysterious beast that frequents bathrooms in the still of dark, moonless nights. Quietly, it stalks from shadow to shadow until it spots its natural enemy.......the toilet paper roll. Then with silent ferocity it attacks, shredding its helpless (but extraordinarily soft and absorbent) prey. The Potty Paper Shredditator (PPS) leaves nothing but torn and mangled detritus in its wake. For many years, this was blamed on a species of over-caffeinated hamsters, but recent forensic studies have been released that indicate feline activity may be responsible. Some researchers have begun to suspect that the PPS may be adapting to human encroachment upon its habitat and migrating to the kitchen where it finds larger, more robust prey in the form of huge rolls of paper towels.

Another domestic cryptid had been reported in the Pacific Northwest region of the United States. It appears to be a very localized phenomenon restricted to the Puget Sound area. The only evidence that it exists is the sound the it makes. The  call of the North American Whinebeast (NAW) can be heard at all hours. The irritating sound it produces can defeat even the most state-of-the-art of sound-reduction technology. When the NAW is in full throat, those within its audible range find it impossible to concentrate on even the simplest of tasks. Those who hear the sound are often filled with an inexplicable rage and irresistible urge to strike the nearest gray tabby cat. little is known about the NAW owing to the fact that the scientific community at large find the subject too annoying to study.

Probably the strangest domestic cryptid is the mythical "Butter-Licker". Not to be confused with the "Common Butt-Licker", which is simply any dog thingy that has ever roamed the Earth (usually in circles, aimlessly looking for a potty spot). Butter-Lickers are fairly common and have been reported in most societies where butter is regularly consumed. It is known by many names. In France it is known as "Zee Beurre Lécher". In Germany, it is called "Buttenlickenbeest". In Arkansas, it is "Thatdangcritterwhatsbeenlickinthadangedolebutteragin".

As its name suggests, the Butter-Licker is drawn to any butter or margarine products that may have been carelessly left out in the kitchen overnight. popular theory suggests that the butter does not serve as a food source because the butter is never fully eaten. It is simply licked enough to make it unsuitable for human consumption. Often, particularly slippery barfies are found for several days after the visitation of a Butter-Licker.

Oddly enough, Butter-Lickers are not to be found in Canada. However, a cousin of the Butter-Licker seems to exist. The Maple-Muncher behaves in a very similar manner and is the only creature on Earth that Canadians have been known to be rude to.

There are many other domestic cryptids that I could write about. However, I have just heard the sound of the NAW and Tiger Lily needs smacking.

The Lord of The Rungs

The female two legger is at it again.

Early this morning she banished the male to the yard, pulled out tape, plastic sheeting, various brushes, rollers, trimmer thingies, stirring sticks, putty knives, old bed sheets and several fifty-gallon drums of paint.

Apparently, paint has a lifespan of approximately three years in my Kingdom. While the female seems very tuned in to this, the male appears to be blissfully unaware that all walls must be repainted on a regular basis. Not only must they be repainted, the color must be completely different with each application.

The process of color selection is a very complex, arcane and scientific process known only to the females of the two legger species. It begins about three months prior to the expiration of the existing paint. The female begins by rearranging the furniture within the room in question. She moves things around to various positions before deciding that the original arrangement was the most aesthetically pleasing after all.  She then pulls out the "Holiest of Holies", a large semi-portable catalog of color swatches. This catalog contains samples of approximately 15,937 different colors all with different names and shades (on a good day, the male can name four of these).  Amazingly, the female is able to discern the various shades, hues and tones of each sample. For instance, she can name no fewer than 86 varieties of chartreuse. The male, by comparison, believes chartreuse to be a French brand of motorcycle. This fact illustrates his severe lack of knowledge in both colors and the auto industry.

Once the new color is chosen, the next step is to purchase new curtains, rugs and other accoutrements to match the new color.

Now the day has arrived to begin the actual painting process. She has learned from prior experience that the best way to avoid unforeseen calamities, is to remove any creatures that are prone to cause messes or general chaos, so, with the male safely tied up outside where he can cause only a minimum of damage, and us feline types locked in guest bedroom, the female spreads out the plastic sheeting, tapes all the molding and commences to enjoy a day spent in joyful painting.

To be honest, none of this particularly interests me. The opportunities for mayhem are severely limited by her vigilance and she never allows us into the room until the paint is thoroughly dried. However, there is one aspect that I have found quite enjoyable:

The ladder thingy.

Being rather small in stature, the female requires the use of a ladder to reach the higher regions of the wall. Though she usually finishes painting by early afternoon, she requires the male two legger to return the ladder thingy to its place in the shed. Giving this responsibility to the male means that the ladder thingy will remain in the newly painted room for a span of time anywhere from a few days to several months. Often, tools that the male intends to return to the shed will slowly migrate from room to room, gradually over time reaching the living room before finally completing the final leg of the migration that terminates in the shed.

Back to the ladder thingy. Whoever invented ladders must love cats. They are a veritable playground for felines. Eight different levels reaching an altitude of 12 tailspans. The levels rise at a steep angle with a small platform at the top. Made of wood, it is perfect for clawing and provides great traction for climbing. The opportunities for ambushing are endless. The uppermost level works wonderfully as a platform from which pouncing is optimized. "Death from above!" can often be heard as we play upon this incredible device.

Ladders are truly the ultimate in cat toy technology.

However, I have a plan to turn it to a more nefarious use. It will take time. It will require patience. But, I know that someday it will happen. Given the male's track record, it is only a matter of time before he leaves the ladder thingy just a bit too close to the shelf that holds the most valuable and treasured knock knacks within my Kingdom.

Someday they will fall.....until then, I wait.

Journey Into Madness (Part 2)

Let's see, where were we?

Oh yes, we had just arrived at the vet thingy in Seattle.

However, I quickly realized that this was no ordinary vet thingy. The building was larger than any I had ever been in. There was even an ambulance parked in front.

I was carried into a large lobby filled with the smells of all sorts of animals. Performing a quick olfactory survey, I detected the scents of other felines, dog thingies, guinea piggers, mice, rats, two parrots and at least one snake (or politician, it is difficult to discern the difference). The walls were covered with artwork in bright, cheerful colors. Pictures of happy four leggers stood out in stark contrast to the very unhappy four leggers awaiting their appointments.

Well, perhaps that last statement is not entirely accurate. The felines awaiting their appointments were unhappy. The dog thingies, clueless as always, were happily roaming around, sniffing each others squatters. Tongues lolling, tails wagging, running hither and yon with complete disregard for dignity or self-respect.

Being the only cat present at the moment, I felt it my feline duty to glare at them in a malevolent manner. I considered hissing, but that only encourages them.

Finally, after wasting 45 minutes observing this lickfest, a small female two legger came out and announced that they were ready to receive me.

I was taken into a large exam room where the new two legger introduced herself as 'Chelsea" and informed me that she had the honor of being my vet tech. She opened my kitty carrier and for the first time I was able to see my surroundings. Next to the exam table, there sat two black leather chairs. In the opposite corner there lay a large, poofy doggie bed. Viewing this as an opportunity too good to pass up, I jumped onto the doggie bed and relieved myself in a most prodigious manner. Not only had I been cooped up in a kitty carrier for over an hour, but I felt it poetic justice after having been subjected to an afternoon of canine capers.

As an overt act of defiance I didn't even attempt to cover it up.

Chelsea then picked me up and placed me back on the exam table. The table was five tailspans long by three tailspans wide. Though it was covered with a soft padded mat, I could see the two cushy leather chairs. I decided that the exam table was obviously intended for dog thingies and other lower lifeforms. Chelsea initially felt that I should remain on the table, but after observing the twitching of my smacking paw, she wisely chose to conduct my examination on my newly acquired throne away from home.

Remarkably, Chelsea finished her examination with little or no bloodshed. She had a gentle and respectful manner and therefore I deemed her acceptable. With a smile and a pat on the head, she left the room.

In her absence, I resumed my reconnaissance of the room. Above the sink, I discovered a series of shelves filled with several items of the knock-knack variety. Just as I was about to "cull the herd", the vet thingy entered the room.

Dr. Alice Huang was unlike any other vet thingy I had ever met. She was not wearing hockey pads and a football helmet. She was smiling, calm, and not prone to nervous tremors like all my other vet thingies. She didn't seem apprehensive or fearful. Even my two leggers were amazed. They asked her if she was aware of who I was. She replied that she was well aware of my reputation (warnings have been posted in every veterinary blog in the state). But she felt that a new approach was in order.

"You attract more bees with honey than vinegar" she said.

I was too shocked by her fresh approach to show her that bees sting.

In a very calm and deliberate manner she quietly tucked all the doomed knock-knacks safely away. She then prceeded to conduct the gentlest and least invasive exam I have ever experienced.

Most annoying.

So I jumped down and anointed the doggy bed again. No response but an affectionate grin.

I jumped up on the counter and smacked some sort of veterinary instrument across the room. Dr. Huang just smiled and cooed "Oooh, he's a little character, isn't he?"

I made an astounding leap onto the window sill and menaced some artificial flowers! She clapped her hands together and said that she simply loved my spirit!

Where was the chaos?? Where was the mayhem? Where was the great screaming and gnashing of teeth (the male two legger can be quite emotive at times)?  Where was the water squirty thingy?

Finally, I jumped back in my kitty carrier and ordered the two leggers to take me back to my Kingdom.

Now I am not generally the type to sulk, but I admit that I had a world-class sulk going for the entire three hours it took to get home. I sat quietly in the back of the car, watching as the scenery went past the window. No yowling, no scratching and no jumping in the two leggers laps.

Finally we arrived back at my house. Ivan, Jaq and Tiger lily each greeted me with a good sniffing. Ivan was happy to see me, Jaq was non-plussed and Tiger Lily hid before I could smack her.

That night there was no peace in my Kingdom. I smacked everything smackable, broke everything breakable and slayed everything slayable.

While I am extremely thankful for the treatment that my vet thingies have administered, I fear that Dr. Huang has discovered my one and only weakness. I can accept the needles, I can take the poking and prodding, but she has found the one treatment that I simply can not tolerate.......

Tolerance.