 |
|
|
Do they have any idea how ridiculous they look? They call to me in that annoying high pitched squeak as if somehow their juvenile antics will make me fawn over them like that stupid dog they allow to roam the house. Well it isn’t working - I’m not a paying customer.
I know they’re watching as I saunter toward the kitchen, I don’t even need to turn around to know I am the object of their attention. I’m fairly certain they exist to serve me. If nothing else, these amazingly dim-witted humans leave food for me. Let’s see, what do we have today? Salmon fillets or maybe Cod nuggets? Eeewwww, Halibut Kibble! Why don’t they just tell me I’m fat? At least that would be a more direct weight loss insult. You’d almost think they want me to go native. Oh, I’ve seen those ninja kitties that dine on rodent al fresco - barbaric! It’s worse than reality television. You have no idea what those mice get into - and what they leave behind. I’ve seen it first hand and I’m appalled that they allow them to roam free. I’d rather starve!
It’s time to spill the bowl, then it’s off to the couch where I can practice a few fillet skills I‘ve been mastering. All I need is a few more special cuts and I’ll get a merit badge from the Feline Scouts. The real benefit is the artistic statement that shredding makes. Look at me! I’m playing the harp! I feel like yodeling. I’m pretty certain that if I do this right the Halibut Kibble goes away.
Ah, it seems they’ve witnessed my handiwork. It must be superb because the emotion on their faces is almost tangible. I sit proudly as they come to see my work a little too close and a lot to personal, “Hey, watch the midsection there pal - and if you could lower your voice a few decibels I‘m certain the neighbors would be grateful. Hmmmmph! Fine, I wanted to go outside anyway!” Hmmm, look at this; my feet are all wet now. This is just awful. It just goes to show that an artist is a misunderstood creature. Nothing worse than wet feet. I’m certain I’m going to have to lick the toes clean for hours. Wait a minute, what if I walked on his car first? I could dry my feet off a little and then maybe I can find a nice warm place under the hood. Wait a minute, the car window is open - even better - I feel like stretching.
Oh, these paws are tasty. Sort of like a Popsicle, only not as cold and with a few more hairs. If I do this right I can leave a nasty little surprise on the kitchen floor later that will certainly cause some much needed amusement in the morning. Maybe I should just leave it here. There, that’s better.
Would you look at this, Dog Breath Buford came to see me. How nice! I think it’s time to pierce his nose. He’ll be so fashionable - the envy of all the neighborhood mutts. Just a quick jump through the window and, “Hey give me some space you dense canine.” I provide a couple of deft blows and Buford yelps satisfactorily - nose pierced - if he comes back I’m going for the ears.
How cute, she’s calling for kitty - oh I’m an easy mark for her foolishness so I saunter up to her and start a rumble deep within that I know she can‘t resist. She smiles and picks me up gently as I rub the rest of the Halibut Kibble off my face and onto her chin as she coos and tells me how pretty I am. There is no doubt about my cute quotient but I love to hear her say it.
What was that sound? Oh, he found my surprise in his car - how nice. He doesn’t seem especially pleased. I wish he’d lighten up a bit. Perhaps I should take a self imposed time out. I do my best thinking when I’m all alone. Besides there’s always tomorrow - maybe he’ll like some of my new ideas.
|
|
|
