Tuesday, February 7, 2012


I woke up on the wrong side of the litterbox today.

For the most part, I am a generally cheerful sort. I go through life causing chaos and mayhem wherever I go, but I usually do it in a cheerful  and good natured manner. I have found that if I break things with a cheerful disposition, it makes it difficult for the two leggers to stay angry with me. I do not break things out of anger, I break things simply because they are in need of, or deserving of, breaking.

One must enjoy their chosen calling.

However, once in a while, I find that I must release pent up aggravation.

This aggravation can be caused by a number of different things:

The two leggers did not carry out my orders in a timely and efficient manner.
The two leggers allowed the royal litter to sit unscooped for more than 3.6 hours.
Tiger Lily whined.
Ivan did something so extraordinarily stupid that it confused me.
I caught Tiger Lily breathing again.
I was unable to bring myself to smack Jaq again.
The two leggers did not provide me with a suitable lap upon which to lounge when I was ready for it.
The laser pointy thingy did not appear when I wished for it to appear.
The sunbeam made no appearance.
I visited my food bowl and found it less than 3/4  full.
The squirrel still lived.
Did I mention Tiger Lily?

So, other than those few small irritants, I am a very easy going example of laid backness.

I take what life hands me, chew it up, digest it for a few hours, and then re-deposit it in the female two legger's boots.

But this morning, I felt downright surly. Disturbed. Annoyed. Amusement challenged. Lacking of goodwill. One could almost call me pissy. (But not if one wished to go unsmacked)

I spent the morning pondering this and have reached a conclusion.

It is Tiger Lily's fault.

I have evidence.

While I was sleeping last night, I had a dream. In this dream, Ivan and I were doing our afternoon rounds, going from window to window, casting aspersions upon any squirrel thingies we saw in the yard, slaying errant dust bunnies and snacking on eight leggers. When suddenly Tiger Lily appeared in front of us. She spoke in her usual whining manner and told us that the secret of  a happy life was spending it in service to others.

I have always suspected her of dog like sympathies, but until now had never had proof.

Now it all made sense. The whining, the constant need for attention, the aversion to other felines and the cowering demeanor.

Tiger Lily is a dog thingy.

Oh sure, she may be able to fool the two leggers, but I am not so easily misled.

So to prove my hypothesis, I decided to put her to the test. I ordered her to go into the computer room where the two leggers keep their book shelves and knock over several books. She whined about it but complied. After hearing the crash, I went in to inspect.

Just as I suspected, she knocked down the male's entire collection of Garfield books while leaving Snoopy, Old Yeller and Benji sitting safely upon the shelf.

The prosecution rests.


  1. LOL All of the "dog thingys" intact? Insubordination!!

  2. Hey Cujo! Now me understands why Kozmo bugs me! Me is really just like my hairy slobbery sisters!