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.