Wednesday, December 23, 2015

Ivan Vs. Santa Claus

Though many have described me as "fearless", I must confess that I do indeed harbor one particular fear. Simply put, It is the fear of becoming predictable.

Predictability in a benevolent dictator (or cat) can lead to the loss of fear in one's minions. It can give them ideas of mutiny or even usurpation. It may even lead some unenlightened two leggers to believe that they actually have some control in their meager little lives.


The reason I bring this up is because last Christmas, Santa seemed unusually well-prepared during his visit to my Kingdom. He showed up wearing hockey pads, heavy welding-type gloves and armed with a can of pepper spray. Judging by his agile maneuvering, I also suspect that he has been dabbling in the martial arts.

I still managed to rough him up a bit, but I confess that it was a near run thing.

The only possible conclusions I can draw is that I have either become predictable, or he has begun reading my blog thingy.

Either way, a change of strategy was in order.

So this year I decided to delegate my Christmastime chaos to Ivan.

I played the part of Ebeneezer Scrooge after his night of visitations. I appeared sweet, generous and filled with the spirit of Noel. When he entered my house, I sat serenely upon my throne and bid him welcome with a lyrical purr and a totally non-evil smile upon my face.

Given our "history", I was not surprised that he did not trust my sudden transformation. His anxiety was palpable. He crept slowly towards the tree with his bag of presents in one mittened hand and a Tazer in the other, never taking his wary eyes off of me. I simply watched him and began licking my paw in a manner that broadcast "I am perfectly at ease and I bear you no ill will my good sir.".  I then curled up, head to tail, and pretended to fall asleep.

Finally, his ill-advised innate optimism got the better of him. He holstered his Tazer, put down his bag and began carefully placing presents under my tree. He was still fairly skittish and tended to jump at every slight sound, but soon he relaxed and set himself to his task.

It was at this moment that Ivan made his move.........

Amazingly, Ivan had managed to hide himself under the tree skirt and had miraculously refrained from giggling in a fit of pre-ambush mirth. As Santa bent over to remove a present from his bag, Ivan jumped from beneath the tree thingy and proceeded to viciously maul Santa just below his kneecap. Santa responded by grabbing a pair of candy canes and used them like nunchucks, beating Ivan on his head thingy.

The rapid, staccato sound of the candy canes reverberating through the house caused Jaq to suddenly launch into a very creditable rendition of "The Little Drummer Boy" by Bing Crosby and David Bowie. It is uncanny how she can perform a duet by herself.

Owing to Santa's poor choice of targeting Ivan's noggin, his counter-attack had little affect. In a great slashing, tearing and mrowring whirlwind of stinky orange fur, Ivan continued his attack as though he believed that Santa was smuggling several whole tunas beneath his silly red suit.

I have no idea who would have told Ivan that Santa was a notorious fish smuggler.........

Unfortunately, Ivan's attack was suddenly curtailed when a pair of socks, obviously intended as a gift for some ill-behaved adolescent two legger, fell out of the sack thus becoming SIUPs (Socks In Unexpected Places, Ivan's worst fear). This caused Ivan to totally poof and bolt from the room, knocking over the tree thingy in the process....I guess one could say that "the fir really flew". In his panic, he also managed to upend Santa who came down with a horrendous, yet spectacularly wonderful, CRASH!

The crash was so loud and mighty that it actually caused me to bolt and in my panic I accidentally broke  a lamp and four wine glasses.

Now this may sound like a lot of damage for a few seconds of extreme panic, but trust me, it only took me a second to break the lamp and only 18 minutes to get into the cabinet to break the wine glasses.

It's amazing what can happen when one panics.

I hope you all have a very safe and merry Christmas filled with joy and chaos.

Wednesday, December 16, 2015

Chaotic Christmas Conundrum

The Holiday Season has always been my favorite time of year. The firebox thingy runs pretty much full time, the two leggers turn up the thermostat, the nights are longer allowing more opportunities for chaos, and best of all......the Christmas knock-knacks are plentiful. Even FaceBook amuses me with the numerous pictures of my fellow felines attacking and destroying yuletide decorations across the world. 

However, this year I have noticed a steep decline in the pictures of destroyed Christmas trees, shattered decorations and murdered mangers.

I find this disturbing, unsettling, and unacceptable.

Something must be done. Obviously, some instruction is in order. Yes, instruction for destruction.

Now I am well aware that my audience consists of more than cats. But this next part is intended for felines only. Anyone who is non-feline should look away (especially two leggers). I will let you know when you can start reading again......Yes, this includes that poodle-dog who is still peeking in Kansas City!

Okay, now that it is just us cats, I have to say that I am VERY disappointed in you. However, I understand  that it is possible that it is not your fault. Perhaps, I have not been vigilant in providing proper instruction on how to make your holidays more festive. In order to rectify this oversight, I shall now offer you the guidance you require.

First of all, the two leggers have gone to a lot of effort to erect and decorate the largest cat toy you will ever behold. A tree filled with assorted knock knacks and danglies. A veritable smorgasborg of chaos. It would be ungracious not to dispatch it with extreme prejudice.

This being said, I understand that in this age of "live and let live", (cough, cough) many of you may have been brain-washed into thinking that this philosophy applies to us as well.

It doesn't.

Let's get back to basics. Professor Cujo is in the house.......

This is a Christmas tree thingy.

The long, thin crystalline thingies that dangle from the branches are known as "Dropsicles". They are made to be batted, slapped and make a pleasant tinkling sound when they hit the floor. Once grounded, they can be used as "the puck" in the annual holiday game of Hallway Hockey. These can provide hours of fun. However, I encourage you to be responsible and always dispose them under the stove when you are finished with them.

Another element of every properly decorated tree thingy are the large round decorative balls known as "scornaments". Scornaments are generally made of brightly colored glass that is very fragile and therefore perfectly suited to illustrating Newton's 12th Law, that being: "Any glass object thingy that is dropped from a distance greater than two tailspans due to the implementation of force administered by a feline paw will shatter upon contact with the floor into a variety of razor-sharp shards. The mass of razor-sharp shards will be equal to exactly 174.82% of the mass of the original glass object thingy". 

The light thingies are off-limits. As Ivan can attest, biting and, or chewing upon strands of electric lights, while amusing, can result in pain, electrocution, and frizzy fur. Ivan seems to enjoy this, but I do not recommend it for anyone in possession of more than three active brain cells. 

The material that covers the base of the tree thingy serves several purposes. It serves as concealment when stalking the scornaments and dropsicles. With a proper running start, it makes a great sliding surface, allowing one to glide gracefully across the floor while smacking ferociously at any dangly parts of the tree thingy. It may also be used as a hairball repository when one wishes save them for later placement.

When causing Christmas chaos, you must always consider the consequences of your midnight mayhem. Personally, I prefer to take credit for my destruction while at the same time avoiding any responsibility for said destruction. Fortunately, I have three scapegoats....... er, I mean companions, with whom I can share the blame. Those of you who live in mixed-species households have the luxury of blaming the dog. This is easily accomplished with the placement of a rawhide bone or pair of underwear at the base of the tree thingy. Those of you lacking the presence of fellow four leggers may still avoid the water squirty thingy by simply purring loudly and blaming disembodied spirits (see poltergeist).

Finally, remember that the tree thingy is not the only opportunity for chaos during the holiday season. The two leggers often provide many other amusing decorations for us to destroy. My personal favorite is the nativity scene. There is something extraordinarily satisfying in gnawing the heads of miniature two leggers.

I hope that with these hints you may enjoy a very chaotic and satisfying season of mayhem and destruction.

Okay, all of you non-feline types may start reading now.......I would like to wish you all a happy Holiday Season and just ignore anything you may hear after 2am.


Thursday, December 3, 2015

Scar Wars

I have noticed that there seems to be a lot of buzz about some movie thingy called "Star Wars". Apparently the newest segment in the series is about be released and everywhere I look online is someone going nuts with anticipation.

Since my two leggers are fans of Science-Fiction, I am often needlessly exposed to such nonsense. Though they prefer "Star Trek" to "Star Wars", they have been known to indulge in both franchises. In fact, in anticipation of the premier of the new movie, they have been watching the earlier chapters of the ongoing saga.

Now I am fully aware that 99.938% of the entire human population is familiar with the story line of Star Wars (the only two leggers who don't know of it belong to a small, recently discovered tribe of denim-wearing, semi-toothed, thicket-dwelling moonshine swillers in southwestern Arkansas), but I will now summarize the story for you.

Star Wars is basically the tragic story of a brave and heroic two legger who strives to unite the Universe, but in the end is thwarted by his son Luke Skywalker and several other poorly dressed meddlers and do-gooders who do not appreciate his efforts.

While I find the fact that they killed off our hero, Darth Vader, quite depressing and anti-climatic, I have to say that the series does have some redeeming qualities. The overgrown Roomba, R2D2 provides comic relief and I am deeply moved by the great philosopher Jar-Jar Binx. Also, in each movie there is much fussing and fighting which never fails to amuse me.

However, there is one aspect to the series that truly fascinates me.........The Force.

The theory is that The Force is an underlying energy in the universe thingy that if tapped, allows the tapper to move stuff, break things and manipulate small-minded people to do their bidding.


According to the narrative, there are two different sides of The Force: The Dark Side and the Light Side.

If one masters the Dark Side, one must dress in black, speak in a deep baritone voice, snicker on occasion and always exit a room (even a bathroom) in a most dramatic fashion. Also, when joining the Dark Side, all SpongeBob Squarepants DVDs are required to be surrendered

If one embraces the Light Side, one must dress all in white (not a flattering color if you live on a planet with two suns), wear elastic bandages on one's legs instead of boots, whine a lot and always act surprised when someone from The Dark Side attacks.

Anyway, I have decided that perhaps I could use The Force thingy for my own purposes. I mean, how hard can it be? You simply stare at your target, concentrate on what you want to happen, squint a bit, and stuff happens, right?

I figured I'd test my new powers on Tiger Lily first. I found her sitting on the back of the couch. She was, of course, in "my spot" (all spots belong to me, but that is irrelevant). I decided that I would use The Force to make her move. I jumped up in front of her and before I could even squint, she jumped up with a harsh whine and fled to the computer room.

It seems that The Force is strong in me.

Perhaps Jaq may prove a more worthy test. I found her sleeping in an empty beer case. I softly crept up to her nap nook. I concentrated on making her vacate the box........I squinted aggressively........I spoke softly in a deep baritone voice.........I breathed roughly..............I smacked the box.

Success!! She sprung from the box and ran from the room.

It was about this time that Ivan came lumbering into the kitchen. I considered using The Force to make him hungry, but quickly remembered that Ivan is ALWAYS hungry and therefore not worthy of the attempt. Instead, I decided to plant in his mind a suggestion of the Christmas tree infested with mouse thingies. Once again, I concentrated....I squinted....I formed the idea and shot it across the kitchen hitting him square in the ear. The suggestion disappeared into his ear, rattled around a bit and then kinda oozed out of the other ear.

It seems that in order for a suggestion to take seed, it has to have something to adhere to. Obviously, the ground within Ivan's mind is infertile.

Oh well, I shall continue to hone my Jedi skills.

In the meantime, I leave you with the Jedi motto: "Live long and use The Force in a prosperous manner".