"Conversations" With Bear Cat: Part 5

Ever wonder about what conversations occur in the Momma Kat household?

Bear and I have been talking quite a bit recently - about a whole lot of random things, like boxes, butts, fish, the birds and the bees, and relationships - only in extended "conversations" that are deserving of their own blog posts. If you missed those, see if you can keep up as the conversation twists and turns rapidly: {HERE}{HERE}, and {HERE}.

See the previous collections of shorter "conversations" {HERE}{HERE}, {HERE}, and {HERE}.

Here's a sample of the shorter dialogues from the past few weeks (some already posted to Momma Kat's Facebook page):

BC: Bear Cat
MK: Momma Kat

On the beauty of the booty:
BC: You touched my butt!
MK: You shoved it in my face!
BC: Isn't it sexy?
MK: Not it my face, NO.
BC: Beggars can't be choosers.
MK: You almost knock me over swinging it around!
BC: I have that effect on the ladies.
MK: You have no shame.
BC: No. No I don't. Want to look at my butt again? But just look, you can't touch. My milkshake brings all the girls to the yard . . .
MK: BEAR!
BC: But it really does! Haven't you seen all the feline chicks hanging out in our yard? There's at least 4 or 5 that come around! If you can't handle my milkshake, would you prefer my "I'm too sexy" song?
MK: Oh for crying out loud!
BC: Yep. I have that effect on the ladies too.
MK: Your milkshake is about to be grounded.
BC: You have no idea about the beauty of the booty. You don't appreciate the hard work and dedication that goes into my artistic expression!
MK: Do you want to see my milkshake?
BC: I'll be under the bed. Let me know when you're done.


On Momma's "escape:" 
BC: Man overboard! Momma escaped! Oh woe is me! She's never coming back! I'm going to die of starvation and loneliness! How could she do this to me?
{Momma walks in the door}
BC: Oh! You're alive. I thought you were gone for good!
MK: I had to get the mail. You could see me the entire time.
BC: No, I mean I was HOPING you were gone for good. How disappointing.
{Bear bites Momma}
MK: OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!
BC: {thinking: That shows HER!}


On sleeping:
{Momma is sleeping, Bear jumps on the bed}
BC: Momma?
MK: What?
BC: You don't like me.
MK: And why is that?
BC: You're not petting me or playing with me.
MK: I'M SLEEPING! Or I was . . . You know - sleep - that thing where you curl in a ball, sometimes snore and every so often your tongue sticks out just a bit? So cute!
BC: You DID NOT just go there! Do you really have to air my dirty laundry for everyone to see? At least I don't drool!
MK: Not that you know of.
BC: HUH! You're evil. And this "sleeping" you claim to be doing isn't cute.
MK: Nice Bear.
BC: Yeah, well, maybe next time you should validate my feelings.
MK: You can be slightly dramatic.
BC: INVALIDATING!
MK: Not everything is about you!
BC: What planet are you on?
MK: Clearly not yours.
BC: Then you don't like me. I'm going to take my planet elsewhere.
MK: Can you be quiet there?
BC: Never mind, I'm going to knock your planet out of its sad, messed up orbit.
MK: What else is new?


On complaining: 
BC: I'd like to lodge a complaint.
MK: I'm not sure there's enough room in your cat condo for the both of you.
BC: Well aren't YOU just sparkling with wit this morning. I want to complain.
MK: OK. You'll have to speak with management.
BC: How do I contact management?
MK: Oh, wait. That's me.
BC: I'm not amused. It wasn't really funny - which explains why no one reads our blog.
MK: It made sense in my head. And my mom used to stay it all the time and annoy the heck out of me.
BC: So you're trying to annoy me?
MK: That would be kind of fair play - you try to annoy me constantly.
BC: But it's my job! Your job is to be not smart so I can rescue you with my wiles.
MK: What have you saved me from?
BC: A life of boredom and tediousness. Also, I give your life meaning. And by the way, maybe you could do less in your head thinking and more funny thinking. I'm not going to live forever and I want to be famous while I'm still alive so I can enjoy it.


On furless cats:
(Related to the conversation: {HERE})
BC: Momma?
MK: Yes, Bear?
BC: Why did you really think I downloaded all those pictures of furless cats? Does this have something to do with the Big Dodo? Because there's a reason Kitty and I named him "The Big Dodo." Not all males are jerks.
MK: I know that Bear - but thank you for reminding me. Our lives are much better now and I'm happy. I love you.
BC: Who wouldn't love me? The fact that the Big Dodo didn't care about me - marvelous, furry, lovable, adorable me - should tell you he had a few screws loose.
MK: Sometimes, you're really smart.
BC: Really? Because I think I need more food.
MK: Nice try.
BC: I love you anyway. Even when you starve me.
MK: 14 1/2 pounds isn't starving . . . unless you're a rhino.
BC: Semantics!


On prey and laziness: 
MK: Why don't you enjoy watching birds and squirrels outside? That was Kitty's favorite thing to do!
BC: Why do you keep comparing me to Kitty?
MK: Because she's the only other cat I've shared my life with. My framework of how cats behave was formed from her.
BC: Well, maybe your "frame" was broken! I'm my own cat!
MK: OK. What do you have against birds and squirrels?
BC: I don't trust either of them! Squirrels run around like smug little incompetent CIA agents. You just know there's something going on in there that you don't want to be a part of. Birds come out of no where to land behind you and then squawk - it's eerie. You can imagine them pecking out your eyes.
MK: How did you survive as a homeless cat?
BC: I'm not telling you my secrets.
MK: I still find it odd that you have no interest in what cats normally see as prey.
BC: I don't see you going out there and hunting a cow. Just like I prefer my wet food, you prefer a bag of Fritos.
MK: So you're lazy? Why do you stalk and attack me all over the place?
BC: Because you're big, slow, and a bit dim-witted. Plus, you don't scare me. Are we done here?
MK: Probably.


On Momma's blog: 
BC: What are you doing?
MK: Working on my next blog post.
BC: You mean complaining about me on your little frou-frou website?
MK: First, I'm not complaining - in all my posts I'm sharing my amazement at how awesome you are, even when you really frustrate me. I always love and appreciate you, Bear. And besides, now you have your own page on the blog so you can complain about me and tell everyone how horrible I am.
{silence . . . crickets . . . more crickets}
MK: You can't think of anything can you?
BC: Damn.


On needing help:
{Momma is getting out Bear's wet food treat and Bear is standing at her feet}
BC: MEOOOOOOOOOWWWWWW!
MK: You are loud.
BC: Thank you!
MK: I'm not sure that was a compliment.
BC: It's not my fault that you are repressed and live as quietly as you can in the hopes that people won't notice you or get mad at you. Be yourself, BOLDLY! Plus, you also need to use your voice when you need help. Not that I ever need help - because I don't - but you NEVER ask for help even when you really need it.
MK: You think I need help and you don't?
BC: Duh. You need a lot of "help." Me? No, I'm good.
MK: I'm pretty sure there's a peanut butter jar, a toaster, and a plastic bag that would disagree with you.
BC: They were evil! EVIL! They don't count.
MK: Sure.
BC: Sometimes I really hate you.


On being tactful: 
{Bear and Momma are outside; Bear investigating the garden for invaders and Momma taking trash to the dumpster}
{Momma walks back}
MK: Bear. Inside.
BC: Sniff, sniff, sniff, ssssssnifffffff.
BC: {Bear sees Momma looking at him and runs toward the front door - stops halfway} HHISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS! Hiss!
BC: {Bear turns and goes full psycho on Momma - leaping toward her until he lands on his hind legs with his arms wrapped around Momma's thigh} Mrowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!
{Now Bear is hanging from Momma's thigh as she tries to walk inside}
MK: So glad we can be civil about this. Seriously? It wasn't bad enough that you hissed at me when I got too close to you after I told you to go inside? Now you viciously attack me? Are you crazy? No, never mind, that was a rhetorical question.
BC: By the way, I like that you now have padding. Not only is it nicer to sleep on, but it also gives me more material to stick my claws into.
MK: Don't you think there are better ways of telling me that?
BC: What? You'd prefer I just tell you you're fat?
MK: Never mind.
BC: I thought so.


On the "correct" way to pet Bear: 
BC: TWO HANDS!
MK: What?
BC: The correct way to pet me is with two hands.
MK: Aren't you the little tyrant! Beggars can't be choosers. 
1) You dictate that I pet you every single time you want it and never when you don't {a courtesy you don't extend to me - thanks so much - when I'm sleeping, fixing things, going to the bathroom, exercising, using super glue - you know no boundaries! You are lucky you aren't permanently stuck to me - hahaha} then, 
2) How I must lay for you to cuddle {which, by the way, kills my back} and now,
3) You demand I use two hands even if the other is occupied {supporting my body in the awkward back-killing position}.
BC: But I let you pet my belly. Most cats don't tolerate that.
MK: You're the one rolling on your back and pulling my hand to your belly with your two paws! I'm not stupid - you love it!
BC: That's not the point.
MK: Oh really? I feel like your love has lots of conditions.
BC: Since when did you become the expert on feelings and love?
MK: I've learned my lesson.
BC: You ARE NOT comparing me to the Big Dodo. I KNOW you aren't . . . You humans project all your unhealthy past relationships on your current ones and assume the current one is just like the past one . . . I AM NOT THE BIG DODO. I am my own cat!
MK: The only one projecting anything here is you. I was merely stating that you are getting more and more picky in your old age.
BC: I'm NINE. That's not old. And besides, my tastes are refining as we speak. I know better what I want as I become the cat I was always meant to be.
MK: I don't know whether I should congratulate you because that actually makes a bit of sense or whether I should laugh hysterically because it also sounds ridiculous.
BC: I'll take donations - a whole chicken - a cattle prod, you know the rest.
MK: No chance.
BC: Then what was the point of this conversation?

Do you mind? I need privacy!



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