Sunday, September 13, 2015

"Conversations" With Bear Cat: Part 10

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

Bear and I talk quite a bit - about a whole lot of random things. In this cycle, we discussed: fire, fishy famine, and frustration {HERE}, strings, surprises and scared {HERE}, Bear's internet privileges (or lack thereof, because of some questionable behavior) {HERE}, and about Bear's desire to be addressed as "The Great Bear Cat" {HERE}.
 If you missed these extended "conversations" deserving of their own blog posts, please click on the links indicated above. 

See the previous collections of shorter "conversations" {HERE}{HERE}{HERE}{HERE}{HERE}{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 gas, hairballs and love:
MK: {mumbling to herself angrily as she moves around the house}

BC: Ummm . . . Momma? Momma?!?!
MK: What do you need?

BC: Are you OK? You're walking around and ranting to yourself and it's kind of freaky. You're not going psycho-er on me are you?
MK: No. I'm just mad at the people in my life who can't take responsibility for their own stuff. I'm just blowing smoke out my butt. I'll be better in a few minutes.

BC: Is blowing smoke out of your butt like gas? Because THAT I can identify with.
MK: I was speaking figuratively. But yes, your gas is enough to fumigate the entire neighborhood.

BC: Thank you! Are you un-mad now?
MK: Do you want to snuggle?

BC: I love you, Momma.
MK: I love you too, Bear. You always make everything better.

BC: Even when I have gas or land a hairball on your bed?
MK: Yes. Even then.

BC: You're weird.
MK: No, I just love you for everything you are - the good and the not-so-good because it's all part of being "Bear Cat."

BC: PURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.


On meowing symphonies:

BC: ARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGG! That's horrific!
MK: What? I'm just singing the melodies of famous symphonies!
BC: Yes, well, your singing is bad enough, but then you replace your regular "duhn"s with meows for the notes.
MK: My use of meows bothers you?
BC: You take the cute little noises of kitties and humanify them . . . then add your singing the notes - which by the way, has anyone told you you're tone deaf? - and the result is a cataclysm of NO! I want to rip out my beautiful fur to make little kitty earplugs!
MK: I'm sure you could gather enough fur off my clothes and the furniture so you don't need to rip out fur.
BC: No. The ripping is necessary as an expression of disgust and anguish at being exposed to such horrors!
MK: Cat treats?
BC: WHERE?
MK: Does that make it better?
BC: What? You think I can be bought off with noms?
{Pause}
BC: A little.
MK: Meow.
BC: That will cost you the rest of the bag.
MK: You drive a hard bargain.
BC: You sing ugly.
MK: I love you, Bear.
BC: Yeah, yeah, me too. That's why I need to protect my hearing from your brutal singing.


On "fake" meat:
BC: This meat on your plate is disgusting!
MK: Get away from my food!
BC: Dis-gust-ing!
MK: It's not meat.
BC: What?
MK: It's meat substitute.
BC: Why would you eat meat substitute?
MK: I'm just trying it - but some people are vegetarians and don't eat animals.
BC: YOU EAT ANIMALS? What, so you adopted me, fattened me up and when I least expect it, you'll roast me over a spit like a pig? Is that why you bought apples this week?
MK: For crying out loud! What do you think meat is, if not animals?
BC: Meat is meat. It comes from the meat farm. There is fishy meat, and chicken meat and pig meat . . . now I'm hungry. How 'bout dropping some of those salmon nuggets in my food bowl?
MK: Leave me to my meat substitute . . . for not liking it, you sure licked it enough.
BC: Eh. It's a step up the fake meat food chain from kibble.
MK: The number one ingredient in your kibble is turkey - it's not fake meat!
BC: It doesn't gobble! Or taste like meat or even like your fake meat!
MK: I'm starting to think I'll never win.
BC: And you JUST figured this out?


On Bear's closet "art:"
MK: BEAR!
BC: I didn't do it!
MK: You didn't pull down a bunch of clothes in my closet - covering the floor with clothes?

BC: Oh. That. He-he. Now THAT was fun. Oh. Right. No, I didn't do it. I get blamed for everything around here!
MK: And why do you think that is?

BC: You don't appreciate my art!
MK: Which means you are responsible for all your artwork.

BC: No, you're just jealous of me so you blame me for everything.
MK: I'm jealous because I wish I could be the phenomenal artist that you are?

BC: Obviously . . . err . . . NO! Not at all.
BC: RATS! I hate you!
MK: Funny. You go around making messes everywhere that I have to clean up, yet YOU hate ME.

BC: You don't appreciate me! THEY ARE NOT MESSES! They are . . . oh, crap! You did it again!
BC: Stop tricking me! I'm never going to admit to anything.
MK: Pretty sure you already did.

BC: I don't remember that. I just remember you being mean to me . . . and not appreciating my . . . err . . . tail!


On Bear's belly:
BC: Momma! Look at my belly! Isn't it cute?
MK: The cutest. I'm so tempted to touch it . . .

BC: Rub my belly, Momma!
MK: Being invited to give the cat you love so much a belly rub? The best present EVER! Even better than winning the lottery.

BC: PURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR . . . You're the best Momma ever!
MK: I love you, Bear.

BC: I love you, Momma. PURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.


On touching:
BC: You're touching me.
MK: Yes.
BC: You're still touching me.
MK: Yes.
BC: Why are you touching me?
MK: You are laying on my chest and we're snuggling.

BC: That is irrelevant. Why are you touching me?
MK: Because sometimes you are so incredibly cute that I can't help it. I mean that cooing thing you do right before and right after you purr . . . and the deep rolling purr . . . it just gets me every time and I'm filled with love for you.

BC: So this is a problem with your self-control.
MK: No, I think it's a problem with you being so cute and so lovable.

BC: Mmmm . . . hmmm . . . mmmm . . . hmmm . . . {sigh} Yes, I see the problem. I am just too cute. It's a burden to bear, but true. I'm irresistible. And everyone loves me.
MK: SEE!
BC: You're touching me.
MK: Oh, okay. You want to lay on me, but not be touched by me.
BC: Thank you.
{a few minutes pass}
BC: You're not touching me.
MK: What?
BC: You're still not touching me.
MK: Sorry?
BC: Why aren't you touching me?
{Momma pets Bear}
BC: Cooooooo . . . . PURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR . . .


On movie menus:
BC: I really like this movie, what is it?
MK: It's the menu.
BC: It's a movie about a menu?
MK: No, that's the menu of the movie.
BC: Even better! Because I'd like to order some of those yellow guys in overalls. I keep licking the screen but missing them!
MK: You're licking the screen?
BC: You took the remote with you - I couldn't use that to order them!
MK: Stop licking the TV screen!
BC: Then order me my little yellow critters!
MK: No, the menu isn't for food, it's for the movie - like a menu of scenes and special features.

BC: Lies! That's a table of contents, not a menu! I can stick my fangs into the contents of a menu!
MK: Pe-tay-toe, pe-tah-toe.

BC: Are those on the menu?
MK: NO! There IS NO menu!

BC: So how do I get the little yellow guys?
MK: You don't.

BC: This movie SUCKS!
MK: Maybe you should wait for it to start to judge.

BC: Why watch a movie about something you can't have? That's masochistic!
MK: I guess you have a point.
BC: See! If you listened to me morer, you'd be smarterer!
MK: Exactly.



On Momma's craziness:
BC: AHHHHHH! What was that? That almost hit me! My life flashed before my eyes! Are you trying to kill me? AGAIN?
MK: No, I just threw the phone on the couch for when I get back from the bathroom and it bounced over the back of the couch . . . hit the blinds . . . and then fell on the floor.
{Momma pauses to think about it and starts laughing hysterically}
BC: What? WHAT?!?!? Why are you laughing? This is an outrage!
{Momma laughs harder}
BC: Have you been taking your medication? I demand an answer!
{Momma keeps laughing}
BC: Get a hold of yourself, woman! If you pass out, I AM NOT giving you mouth-to-mouth resuscitation!
MK: {stops laughing long enough to say} It flew at least seven feet from where you were . . . {then dissolves back into laughter}.

BC: As I said, it ALMOST HIT ME! What's so funny? What is WRONG with you? I don't like this! I don't like this AT ALL!
MK: It's just been a long day . . .

BC: You're telling me! I almost DIED! Because of your negligence!
MK: I needed this.

BC: Why can't you relax like normal people?!?!?
MK: Oh, Bear, I love you.

BC: No! No! Don't touch me! You're crazy! You'll try to kill me!
BC: Oh. Oooooohhh. That feels good. Move it a little to the left . . . now THAT'S an ear rub. My back needs scratching . . . oh, yes, just like that!
BC: PURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR . . . I love you, Momma . . . PURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.


On strange ducks:
MK: Don't you think you're being slightly dramatic?

BC: Slightly? You insult me, madam. I clearly have not taught you to fully appreciate the dramatic.
MK: I meant that as an understatement.

BC: There is nothing understated about this tabby!
MK: You are one strange duck.

BC: Pardon me, but I am all cat.
MK: You're right. Strange is a synonym for cat and therefore is redundant when used with the word, "cat." However, I used it with "duck."

BC: There are no synonyms for "cat," we are completely unique! Now ducks are strange. All that quacking and preening all over the place.
MK: Do you ever listen to yourself?

BC: Duh! That's one of the greatest pleasures of being me. Proper reverence from you wouldn't hurt. Don't hate me because I'm pretty!
MK: I think I need some ibuprofen and a dark, quiet room.

BC: Serves you right! It might take two to tango, but the cat will always be the last one standing.


On boxes:
BC: NOOOOOOOO! You aren't going to get me in there unless it's over my dead body! HELP! Momma's trying to kill me! AHHHHHHHHHHHH! Bear abuse!
MK: It's a box. Cats usually love boxes. Since you refuse to go near one, I was just hoping you might try one and change your mind.

BC: No . . . that's a torture device!
MK: See?!?!? I can sit in the box and nothing bad happens . . . err . . . oops . . . it seems that the box was a bit too small for me . . . can you help me pull this off?
BC: Oh, if only I knew where the camera was . . .
MK: Bear! Help! Don't just sit there laughing!
BC: Now you know what it felt like when I got the plastic bag handle stuck around my body . . . you couldn't stop laughing . . . but I was TRAUMATIZED! Anyway, NOT MY PROBLEM. Ciao!
{Bear calmly struts away}
MK: Bear??? Bear?!?!?! BEAR!!!


On naughty claws:
MK: Bear! I hear you back there! Your claws are ripping up the back of my chair!
BC: Who is this Bear of whom you speak?
MK: Bear, knock it off!
BC: There is no Bear here . . . though rumor has it he's a pretty cool and bad-ass cat! You should probably fear him!

MK: I'm not stupid . . . you are the only living thing in here with long claws.
{Momma swings the chair around)
BC: What . . .
MK: Hi Bear! Amazing finding you behind a chair that is being ripped up.

BC: Who me? I'm just a cute little kitty cat! I've been framed! I saw the little miscreant run that way!
MK: Right.

BC: It was only by my bravery to confront the evil-doer that he ran away! You should thank me. Without me, he'd still be ripping up your chair!
MK: Right.

BC: It was a run-by clawing!
MK: Which reminds me . . . I need to clip your claws!

BC: WHAT?!?!? Why must I pay for the wickedness of other cats? You know I'd NEVER destroy anything that belongs to me!
MK: Judging by the sound the shredding made, I think your claws are long enough.

BC: Over my dead body! Put me down! I hate you! BEAR ABUSE! Your abominable behavior will be noted and revenged! Now you know why I destroy things . . . err . . . I mean . . . RATS!


On buying food that's not really food:
MK: Guess what, Bear? I bought you food!

BC: Gimme, gimme, gimme! Fishy, fishy, fishy! Come to papa sweet fishy!
MK: Not that kind of food. Kibble.

BC: That's NOT food . . . that's . . .
MK: Don't make me bleep you. And besides, I'm sure homeless, hungry kitties, just like you used to be, would LOVE your kibble.

BC: Like that does me any good! Why can't I have fishy all the time?
MK: Because you like to free feed and I can't leave fishy out all day.

BC: Maybe you can get me a fish tank and I can grab myself a snack when I'm hungry. Fresh!
MK: A) I'm pretty sure if a fish swam in your direction, I'd find you under the bed - even though it couldn't "get" you through the glass, B) You always whine when your paws get wet even though you're the one sticking them in water, and C) You have no idea what to do with a whole fish and would just spend hours licking it.
BC: So when do I get my fish tank?
MK: Never.
BC: I hate you.
MK: That's why I feed you kibble.
BC: Oh . . . you . . . I just . . . that's . . . PHHT!
{Bear struts off to hide out in his corner and pout}
BC: I HEAR you! I'M NOT POUTING! I'm PLOTTING!
MK: My mistake . . .


On grass buffets:
BC: Grass buffet here I come! Oh grass! I love you! You are the best ever! And you are so pretty . . . even when I regurgitate you back up! Yummy, yummy, yummy. Grass in my tummy!
MK: Inside!
BC: Bite me!
MK: If you insist . . .
BC: No! Don't touch me! I hate you!
MK: Oh, Bear . . . I'm not going to bite you . . .
BC: Wait, what?!?!? Put me down! I'm not going inside! Over my dead body! PUT ME DOWN!
{Door closes - Pause}
BC: Rats! Now I'm stuck inside. You can't have my pretty grass! I'm going to "recycle" it in a place you can't find . . .
MK: That's just gross. I don't want to find your regurgitated grass in a few years from now . . .

BC: By then, I'll have eaten it like 100 times.
MK: That is even grosser.

BC: Y-U-M-M-Y!!!
MK: How the heck can you complain that your kibble isn't "real" food, but you eat grass, like it's a great delicacy?!?!?!

BC: Easy. You want me to eat the kibble. You don't want me to eat the grass. Any questions?


On furry catcakes:
{Momma moves her foot off the couch to a seeming explosion of black fur into the air}
BC: HEY!
MK: I'm sorry! I didn't know you were on the floor, right up against the couch!

BC: You almost stepped on me!
MK: I'm sorry! I'm a bad, bad momma!

BC: Yes, you are! You almost made me a catcake!
MK: I'm sorry. It was an accident.

{Momma holds out her hand, which Bear sniffs}
BC: Do I look like a rug? No wonder you always walk all over me! Bossy, bossy, bossy. And now THIS!
{Momma reaches and pets Bear, tentatively}
BC: PURRRRRRRRR . . . RATS! . . . Leave me alone! There's a mandatory period of time that I get to be mad at you!
{Pause}
BC: Okay, pet me now.
MK: I lov . . .

BC: That's enough. Now leave me alone.
MK: Okaaaay . . .

BC: You have no right to judge! You almost stepped on your sweet, poor, defenseless kitty cat.
MK: Defenseless? DEFENSELESS?!?!?! Your fang was attached to my arm less that 20 seconds ago! And don't even get me started on showing you the scars!
BC: Whatever. This show is BOR-ING! I'm going to go stare at the wall. Please be quiet so that you don't impinge on my viewing pleasure.


On Bear's flying capability:
BC: Momma, you always find a way to clip my wings.
MK: Ummmm . . . okay.
BC: I want to fly - free like an eagle.
MK: You don't actually have wings. And while you call your fur plumage, you don't have feathers either.

BC: Technicality.
MK: Okay. Show me you can fly and I promise to never clip your wings again.

BC: Prepare to be amazed! Oh . . . um . . . right . . . hmmmmm . . . That's inconvenient . . .
MK: I'm waiting . . .

BC: Hold you pants, woman! I am doing my pre-flight checks and there appears to be some technical difficulty.
MK: Yeah. You don't have wings.

BC: You don't know everything! Actually . . . I kind of like it up here . . . I think I'll take a nap.
MK: Do you want help coming down?

BC: Phht. Help. From a human. I got up here all by myself, you know! All your annoying made me sleepy - so now I must slumber.
MK: Bear, there's not enough room up there for you to sleep. Let me help you down.

BC: NEVER! DON'T TOUCH ME!
MK: Fine. How about you jump down and I'll give you some treats. And I promise not to point out that you didn't fly.

BC: I hate you. But only after you give me treats.
MK: Obviously.



On fur thievery:
BC: What happened to you?
MK: What do you mean?
BC: Most of your fur is missing!
MK: I got my hair cut. A lot of it cut.
BC: DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!
MK: What?
BC: My plumage is beautiful - I will kill you before you rid me of it.
MK: When have I ever cut or shaved your fur?
BC: There's a first time for everything. I just wanted to be sure we had an understanding. Besides I know you skim a little bit off the top by brushing me. You think I don't know . . . but you are a fur thief!
MK: Bear, I brush your fur to take the dead fur out so you don't shed everywhere and get more hairballs. Besides, it makes your fur extra shiny! And you purr the entire time I brush you and rub yourself all over the brush.
BC: I'm saying good-bye to the fur you steal! I love my fur!
BC: So we have an understanding.
MK: Umm . . . I guess so.
BC: Those jerks at the vet must have shaved the patch of fur after they knocked me out - I was more horrified to wake up with no fur in that area than I was with anything else. If they'd done it while I was able to fight - they would have been the ones knocked out!
MK: Bear, "those jerks," probably saved your life by removing your infected tumor.
BC: But they took my fur! Like 1/4th of my fur! I bet they took extra and saved it because it was so pretty. Fur thieves!
MK: It grew back - you can't even tell anymore.
BC: No more fur thievery! All the lady kitties admire my plumage. Oh! You wouldn't understand . . . your fur isn't pretty like mine . . . and you take no pride in your plumage . . . it just hangs there . . .
MK: You are one-of-a-kind.
BC: I know! That's why everyone wants my fur! Oh, the travails of having gorgeous, sumptuous fur! Such a burden to bear.

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