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.