Good morning. I am your cat, and as you know I rarely speak. My vocabulary is poor. I cannot make myself understood by you and your human friends. Trust me, if it were otherwise I would be on the phone right now ordering Finding Nemo on Pay per View. But today God has granted me five minutes of articulate speech so that I can clear up a thing or two with you, my owner.
First let us crush some misconceptions. I do not own you. You have the ability to remove my genitals and my claws. So, let us not be ridiculous by talking about me owning you. Also, I am not all that independent. I like you. You give me food, and you do funny things like sit on the toilet. When you are gone I miss you, and when you come home I stick to you like a fuzzy, dignified rash. Sure, if you dropped dead I would happily eat your corpse, but I am not going to drag you down like a gazelle on the veldt.
Now that we have resolved that, let us get specific. You complain because I scratch up your couch. You gave me a charming scratching post, and I ignore it like it was the ghost of Lassie. You yell and squirt water at me, which makes me sad because you are missing the point. Your couch is as ugly as moose crotch. I mean really, sunflowers? I never scratch the ottoman, because it is a lovely piece of furniture. I am doing you a favor by pointing out an appalling item in our shared home, so please desist squirting me with that bottle. I think it has bacteria in it.
You often laugh at me when I play. I am happy to provide you amusement. Please consider how much amusement I provide for such a small investment. All I need is a crumpled piece of paper to entertain you. And yet, when you play it is in fact quite boring for me. I do not want to hurt your feelings, but seven hours of twitching your thumb in front of your computer or X-Box is hardly a laugh riot for me. Please consider my enjoyment when choosing your leisure activities. Play your Wii more often. When you are Wii bowling I laugh so hard I think I am going to pee.
Let me raise another sore point. Sometimes I meow a lot, and sometimes I whine. Yes, I admit that on occasion I howl at 3:00 a.m. when you have an important meeting with a real jerk in only four hours. Sometimes when you are asleep I lie on your face, lick your eyelids, and pull out your hair with my teeth. All of this behavior must puzzle you and even anger you. I want you to understand that I do these things because you gave me a stupid name. You named me Snowball, and my brother is named Macaroni. I know cats named Oatcake, Loki, Tigger, and Dammit. Come on. Would you name your son “Schmoo”? How about “Sassafras”? Stop naming us like we were roadies on a Def Leppard tour and you will have a lot more peace at home.
When I roll on catnip while gripped by a profound euphoria, I sometimes sense that you are mocking me. I suspect that you are saying, “Look at the silly cat! He’s going crazy for that catnip. That’s just so wild!” I may be wrong about your comments, and if so I apologize, but just allow me to say this. You drink martinis and smoke dope. I roll in catnip and chase laser pointers. No one has cause to throw stones here.
Sometimes I feel we have lost sight of our respective roles in the home. My role is to be cute, play, eat your food, sleep, keep you company, and throw up in your shoe. Your role is to feed me, provide a lap for me on demand, clean my litter box, give me toys, keep me company, and leave your shoes lying around. When we both know our job, everything runs smoothly. My job may seem menial or even boring. Yet I remind you that I have never had to explain a return policy to an angry customer.
I hope we now better understand one another. This was certainly cathartic for me, and I expect it was illuminating for you. Now we can achieve a more harmonious life together, one that is genteel and even generous. We may yet create a world where I walk into the kitchen to find a can of tuna by my bowl, and you walk into the bedroom to find a dead bird on your pillow.
Pimping begins: I yanked this out of my e-book Bring Us The Head Of The Velveteen Rabbit, which is full of profound essays like “A Kick In The Shin Is Better Than Sex,” “The Iron Fist of Youth,” and “Read This, or My Goldfish Will Kick Your Ass.” It’s available at both Amazon and Barnes and Noble. I now be done pimping.
This is ABSOLUTELY true! I have a cat (who think she owns the place) and I often catch myself thinking, “She’s absolutely judging me.”
You said it. Not just judging. Judge, jury, and executioner.
Oh, I know all 3 of mine judge me regularly, although none of them are quite as judgemental as my late, great, bitch, Rhonda was… 17 years and she NEVER let me forget that she, domesticated feral that she was, did not NEED me for food, she was perfectly capable of catching her own, but that she WOULD deign to allow me to love her and provide a cozy home and food on demand for her…
Sort of like a cross between the Ice Queen and Mad Max.
while i am still puzzled about the attraction to these rather largish rodents, this made snort: “You drink martinis and smoke dope. I roll in catnip and chase laser pointers. No one has cause to throw stones here.”
Thanks Squeak!
So true 🙂
Our cat died years ago, but only last night we replaced the torn leather couch, horribly clawed all those years ago.
I told a friend last month, “Beauty is a survival tool”. If they weren’t adorable, we’d have hurt them!
My condolences. To be such tiny pains in the ass, they leave an enormous hole behind. We’ve lost two cats in the past year or so, and I still look for them sometimes. We did learn our lesson though–no leather couches!
Apparently our cats think that my function in the world is food provider, cat box cleaner, and automatic door opener. In return, I receive petting privileges from two of them. The third on seems to be related to Schrodinger’s cat, as he is sometimes there and sometimes not, mostly determined by observable phenomena.
My role is similar, except that I’ve been fired as automatic door opener. One of my cats has taught himself to open every door inside my house. I officially live in hell.
Bill, you cracked me up. I forwarded to my cat loving friends and bought your book. I hoping for similar laugh attacks.
Thanks very much, Elaine, I’m happy that you found it entertaining! And thanks for buying the book–I’ll cross my fingers and hope that you laugh when you read it, too.
So funny.
Thanks Ella! I’d love to hear the Great Dane perspective sometime.
LOL! Love it !
Thank you! I showed Snowball your comment, and she just yawned, but I’m sure it was a yawn of appreciation.
Fantastic post, very illuminating. My cat actually doesn’t get angry at me very often. Only when I don’t let her out on demand, pet her when she’s ready for affection, give her the food she prefers, pay attention to my writing or become otherwise engaged on my computer, have the nerve to cough or make a movement that disrupts her slumber when she’s next to me, move her off my clean laundry… well, only those times. The rest of the time, I think she’s pleased with me. Okay, okay. The truth is the rest of the time she forgets I exist. lol.
Our cats clearly spring from the same gene pool. I would ask you to pet her for me, but the wave of indifference might drown us both.
LOL A friend of mine does these cat and dog blogs all the time, only he feels the cat does own you…LOL Our cats have scratched up our furniture and even some things that they really shouldn’t…like our wallpaper. Ok, so it’s hideous, but that’s besides the point.
I have two cats, Newton and Dodgey (rescue cats) and those are the names they came with. Devil’s they are…but cute devils at that.
Check out my friends blog http://www.williamkendallbooks.blogspot.com. He does A-day-in-the-life-of…a cat, a dog, sometimes even sillier things like Godzilla and the Grim Reaper. The cat ones are hilarious though.
Thanks! I did check out your friend’s blog, and it’s quite a nice site.
Fun and funny. You got it down to a whisker! 🙂
Thanks very much! I feel like I did okay since I’ve found three birds on my pillow in the past month.
Ha! So that’s what they’re thinking.
It seems so. I would never have guessed the thing about the names.
Reblogged this on RoseReads and commented:
When I was writing for a local newsletter, I occasionally wrote from my cat’s perspective. Maybe I should rethink doing that again.
You know, local news from the cat’s perspective could be the funniest thing that’s ever been written. Go you!
My Himalayan cat, Sugar Bear, will be 17 years old come Sept. She has agreed with much of what was pawed but she wants you to know that in our house she reins supreme. All that is lacking is the Crown. By the way, she talks better than most high school graduates today. In fact, she is quite vocal- that is when she’s not napping…
I suspect the problem isn’t that my cats fail to enforce their will within our home. The problem is that I’m too dim to recognize they’re doing it.
I loved the part about the names. Both of ours got their names not because they’re cute (which they are, of course – cats and names), but because the names describe to a T their personality – for the older one – her name is Purrsnikitty and looks for the younger one – she’s Purrstachio – the color of a pistachio nut in the shell.
Beautiful! I hate to admit it, but I have two cats named after mythological creatures: Nixie and Fenris. I also hate to admit that I remember drinking Jagermeister shooters with a bass player named Purrsnikitty in 1992.
Loved the blog post! I was never a cat lover, but became a cat tolerator (new word?) for several years.
Thanks very much, Kurt! And I admire cat tolerators. It’s like acknowledging that your wife isn’t crazy to watch Pride and Prejudice, even if Myth Busters is on at the same time.
Too darn cute for words! I can tell that’s exactly what my cat is saying. LOL
Love the pic!!!
Thanks! I think that cats find us so predictable they’re all thinking about the same thing. If they had thumbs they’d probably just hand us cards saying, “You’re a dumbass. Feed me.”
very cool. I enjoyed reading this and agree with your take on cats. Thanks for sharing.
Thanks, Kat, I appreciate you reading. Maybe our cats are related? Or maybe their attitudes are common across the entire genus…
You humble me with your skill at humor.
Thank you–I’m blushing.
Still smiling. Thanks for writing this!
Thanks so much! A smile these days can be worth a lot, so thanks for letting me know.
hehehe! my family’s orange tabby is named Tigger :-/
Oooh… I sense a cat-induced nervous breakdown in your future. Sort of like “Gaslight” with fuzzy mice inexplicably showing up in the coffee pot and other impossible places.
lol! 🙂 Tigger drives my stepmother crazy for sure!
Whenever I call my cat, he just ignores me. Could be he thinks his name, Gizmo, is stupid?? But he did look like an alien when we got him – two big ears on a tiny pointed face. Now he only answers to Gizzie – mnnn, that’s when he’s not sitting on my computer to stop me typing.
Your cat answers? To an actual word coming from your lips? Even if he only answers to Gizzie, that’s pretty amazing. Congratulations!
I love this.
Thanks very much! You could give Snowball a fuzzy mouse toy to express appreciation, but she’d probably ignore it in favor of chewing up an expensive house plant and then barfing it on the couch.
HAHAHA, now I know why I give my cats cans of tuna from time to time. Keep that thunderbolt AWAY FROM MEEEEEE!!
I’ve come to realize that for my cats a can of tuna is about the same as frankincense and myrrh.
LOL! Thanks for inviting me.
Thanks for letting me know you liked it!
Reblogged this on Globalization & Capitalism and commented:
I post most of the time on Globalization and History. But reading this post was certainly cathartic for me too! It is a must read for all of us who own cats! Happy Sunday!
Thanks, I’m happy that you enjoyed it! And thanks for the repost.
Love the post! My cats take turns playing drive-the-human-insane despite perfectly ordinary names, so they are stars of the “CatWorld” blog on my website. I pay them in Temptations, they do more insane things. A vicious cycle. ;-} Jake may have read your post just now as he sat beside me. Uh-oh.
I like your last post. We had a shelf full of doodads like that in our bedroom. When the cat wanted us to get up, she would ease a figurine to the edge with her paw, look at us, and then knock it off. If we didn’t get up, she’d ease the next figurine to the edge, look, and knock it off. It was a good way to keep down the clutter.
Reblogged this on DIANABUJA'S BLOG and commented:
EXcellent weekend reading!
Thank you so much! I’d have replied earlier, but we were on holiday for a few days, giving our cats plenty of time to chew a hole in the food bag, chase my work ID under the piano, and eat a small snake before barfing back on top of the DVD player. Thank you for the reblog!
Haha – your cat’s getting ‘even’! But your post was most amusing and we all enjoyed it – even the picture shows a cat with a lot of attitude!
Awesome and hilarious! My cat is sitting next to me, and if she could speak for the day she would certainly approve. Although she destroys all my furniture, which doesn’t say much for my taste in home decor!
Thanks, my cats are happy that your cat enjoyed it! My opinion on the matter is worthless, as I’m sure yours is also. We bought a new couch since I posted this, and it’s intact at this point. I suppose I can be trained.