Blood Bath

I knew something was amiss.

For the last two days the two leggers have been giving me furtive glances. Whispering in hushed voices. Using code words. Sneaking packages into the bathroom when they thought I was napping.

I could tell that they were plotting something devious. Something risky. By their general demeanor, I could also tell that their plot made them nervous, edgy, even fearful.

I decided to uncover their dastardly plans. I started by investigating the mysterious package that they had stashed in the bathroom. Carefully opening the package, I discovered a plastic bottle thingy filled with a thick orange fluid. The label on the bottle thingy read: "Happy Kitty Moisturizing Shampoo"

My first reaction was to laugh. Talk about false advertising, "Happy Kitty Shampoo"?

In the history of Earth, has there ever been an instance of a kitty being "happy" whilst being shampooed? They even had the temerity to put a picture of a smiling feline on the label! The people who came up with this marketing gem have obviously never been acquainted with cats of any shape or form. In fact, I suspect that they probably fraternize with dog thingies. Possibly even squirrels.

The thought that the two leggers were considering making an attempt to bathe my royal personage is laughable. Confusing, but laughable. Confusing because they spend so much time and effort in attempts to save themselves time and effort, yet they are going to try and clean something that is self cleaning. Laughable because they have made such attempts in the past and have only received lacerations and severe blood loss for their troubles.

Rather than being annoyed, I decided that I would derive some amusement from their futile strategies.

I immediately informed Ivan and Tiger Lily of the impending assault. I knew they would make the attempt while we were eating our breakfast Sunday morning. (All two legger assaults start first thing in the morning, they must feel that we are sleepy headed at that hour) Our first counter strategy was to vanish as soon as we heard them stirring. Convincing Ivan to skip breakfast was very difficult, but fortunately he was able to survive on an unsuspecting eight legger that picked the wrong time to make a break for it.

After an hour of searching, the male two legger discovered my hidey hole and called the female to assist in my extraction. This was the point where I decided that it was time to remove all restraint. I poofed and gave him my patented "Psycho-nut Crackhead Kitty Look".

This gave him pause.

Ivan suddenly seemed to appear out of thin air and mauled his ankles mercilessly. Meanwhile, Tiger Lily let out such a whine that it caused dogs in five states to bury their heads in the crotches of their two leggers.

It was at this very moment that the two leggers decided that they had embarked on a mission of folly and beat a hasty retreat. Granted, I was somewhat disappointed at the lack of actual bloodshed, but at least we all stayed dry and the two leggers were properly educated.

On a related note, today was the first time I've ever observed the male two legger drinking beer before noon.