Mistreated, Misunderstood, Unloved . . .

The cat or the human?

Ask any cat, and he'll tell you hours and hours worth of testimony about how his human is "mean," and "mistreats" him, and "misunderstands" him, and even "doesn't love" him. Of course, (at least from the human perspective), many of these charges are inaccurate at best. In a previous post, When Loving Your Cat Leaves You Feeling Woefully Inadequate, I detailed the times the cat is SURE you hate him or are out to kill him, even though you're only doing the best you can to love him and take care of him. So the question becomes: Is it really the cat that misunderstands the human . . . instead of the other way around (as the cat will surely maintain)? Or is it possible that in the feline-human relationship, the reality doesn't matter - only the feelings? If only the cat were less stubborn and at least TRIED to understand . . . as we humans do.

BC: Bear Cat
MK: Momma Kat

Momma ruins Bear's outside time:
BC: Outside! Oh! Cold! Oh my cold paws! BRRRRRRRRRRRR! My delicate paws! My cute little ears! COLD! My wet . . . and now COLD nose! BRRRRRRRRRRRR!
MK: Bear, do you want to come back inside?
{Pause}
BC: But still . . . OUTSIDE! Outside outside outside! Grass BOO-FAY! 
BC: I love you, stars! I love you, grass! I love you, plants! I love you, outsiiiiiiiiiiiiide! All mine!
{Thirty seconds pass}
MK: Bear! Inside!
{Bear starts running toward the rosebush where he likes to hide so he can avoid going inside - then stops}
BC: {GASP} WHERE'S MY ROSEBUSH?!?!?
MK: The complex grounds people cut it back.
BC: YOU STOLE MY ROSEBUSH!
MK: The complex decided what to do - I had no part of it.
BC: I'm not stupid! I bet you paid your evil collaborators to steal my rosebush!
MK: Bear, I didn't know it was happening until the guys were outside the window.
BC: You didn't stop them!
MK: You were sitting in the window watching them!
BC: That was like three weeks ago!
MK: Yes.
BC: I haven't been outside in THREE WEEKS? I'VE BEEN SCREWED!
MK: Technically, it's been at least four weeks . . . because I stopped letting you out about a week before they cut the bush back.
BC: FOUR WEEKS? That means I haven't been outside in a YEAR!
MK: We need to work on your time conversions.
BC: NO! YOU need to work on your Momma-Meanness!
MK: And why did I stop letting you outside?
BC: Because you're mean! You don't want me to have a life . . . or have fun . . . or anything!
MK: You don't think it had something to do with you bee-lining for the rosebush every time I came to get you inside?
BC: You made it cold outside too, didn't you? You made it cold so I wouldn't want to go outside!
MK: Bear, I have very little control over any of these things,
BC: Oooooh! I'm ALL POWERFUL human! I live to ruin my cat's life! I don't think he notices! I know everything! I'm so smart!
MK: Are you done?
BC: I'm a human! Don't go outside! Don't gobble your food down! Don't watch me going to the bathroom! Don't steal my chair! Don't do this, don't do that, don't do this other thing, don't do ANYTHING!
MK: Feel better?
BC: Do I still have to go inside?
MK: Yes.
BC: Then no. I don't feel better. And now I hate you!
MK: You didn't hate me before?
BC: My heart froze in this vast frozen wasteland you created so I wouldn't want to go outside!


Momma's "iniquities" disturb Bear:
 
Bear . . . "pre-spin"

BC: Whooooooooooa! Who-oa! Who-oa! Who-oa! MOM-MA! Maaaa-ke it stt-op! Maaaa-ke it stt-op! Who-oa! I'm go-ing to to-ss my fish-y!
MK: What the hell? Oh crap!
{Momma drops the laundry basket she's carrying, causing clothes to fly everywhere, and runs to the desk chair}
{Momma stops the desk chair from violently spinning with Bear in it}
BC: Ooooooh. I don't feel so good . . .
{Pause as Bear looks up}
BC: WHAT? Why's a bra hanging from my chair? Is this part of your iniquitous activities? Because I don't want any part of them!
{Bear glares at Momma}
MK: Iniquitous activities . . . what are you . . . 
BC: STOP LAUGHING! WHAT'S SO FUNNY?!? YOUR DEPRAVITY ALMOST KILLED ME!
MK: Oww . . . hurts to laugh . . . UNBELIEVABLE!
BC: {glaring at Momma} I DON'T SEE THE HUMOR IN THIS!
MK: Oh my gosh! I was walking past the desk chair with my laundry basket . . . and a bra was hanging over the edge . . .
BC: LA LA LA I'm not listening! Iniquitous debauchery!
MK: No! Wait! And as I went past, one of the hooks on the bra snagged on the chair you were sitting in - and I kept going, not realizing the bra was coming off . . . so the combination of my movement and the snag caused the chair to spin that fast . . .
BC: You can't keep your clothes on?
MK: No. It didn't come off ME! It was hanging over the edge of the basket - and snagged on the chair as I brushed past the chair!
BC: Right. As I said: I DON'T WANT TO BE PART OF YOUR INIQUITOUS ACTIVITIES!
MK: Bear, there was no iniquity. In fact, now that I think of it, the only reason it snagged was because you've torn up the fabric covering the chair at that spot so the little loops were sticking out far enough to snag!
BC: All I know is I was grooming myself meticulously, lounging on MY desk chair . . . 
MK: That you stole from me when I got up to empty the dryer . . . 
BC: . . . And my chair went spinning off into the universe . . . and I came to . . . to find a bra hanging on the edge of the chair right by my face!
{Pause}
MK: Oh . . . my . . . oww . . . can't breathe . . .
BC: STOP LAUGHING! I DON'T SEE THE HUMOR IN THIS! Keep your debauchery to yourself! 
{Pause as Bear surveys the scene - namely the clothes scattered all over the floor from the dropped laundry basket}
BC: {with narrowed eyes} And for the love of kittens - keep your clothes on!
{Pause}
BC: If you pass out, I'm not calling 911! And forget mouth-to-mouth resuscitation! Keep your filth away from me!
{Pause}
BC: I can't take it any more! I live in a house of ill repute!
{Pause}
BC: Waaaaaaaait . . . TREATS! OH! This is the best day EVER! Nomnomnomnom! Nomnomnomnomnom!


Momma tries to "kill" Bear with his own teddy bear:
 
Bear's new teddy bear

MK: KOW-A-BUNG-A!
{Bear's new teddy bear goes flying through the air and lands on Momma's desk chair that Bear's taken over}
BC: MommmmmmmmmMMMMA!
{Pause as Bear peeks around the edge of the chair to give Momma a dirty look}
BC: You threw that at me!
MK: Yes.
BC: It almost hit me!
MK: Yes.
BC: It interrupted my bath!
MK: Yes.
BC: Now I have to start over!
{Bear glares at Momma}
BC: Aren't you sorry?
MK: No.
BC: You're a mean, MEAN Momma!
MK: You stole my chair!
BC: So you tried to kill me?
MK: It's a tiny stuffed bear - and it was in the middle of the floor and I almost stepped on it. Even if it HAD hit you - it wouldn't have hurt.
BC: My life flashed before my eyes!
MK: A little dramatic.
BC: Dramatic?!?!? DRAMATIC? I ALMOST DIED!
MK: Lots dramatic.
BC: And it was in the middle of the floor because I was PLAYING with it.
MK: Yes. Until I got home and you ran to jump in my desk chair just to spite me because you knew that's where I was going.
BC: No. I decided to take a bath in your chair - and then you got home. You're the one that was trying to steal it from me - just to spite me! You knew I was on my way there!
MK: Fine. Then let's share.
BC: I don't want any part of your selfish ideas!


Momma discriminates against Bear's string:
MK: Bear! String doesn't belong in your water bowl!
BC: But he was thirsty!
MK: Oh really? Because he wicks the water out of your bowl all over the floor.
BC: That's not what happens!
MK: So tell me, what happens?
BC: He drinks water, but you get mad when I take him in my litter box . . . he has to relieve himself somewhere! That wouldn't happen if you provided him the proper facilities or you allowed him to use my litter box.
MK: This is ridiculous.
BC: Right. Because YOU'RE the string expert. How many times have you laid in the dark with him and listened to his confidences? You treat him like an old rag you no longer have any use for! ***
MK: Bear . . .
BC: String has feelings you know! Marginalized and discriminated against in his own home - you should be ashamed of yourself! You don't think I notice that when you wash him, you try to bleach him into submission?!?!
MK: String gets bleached because you drag him around everywhere - including in your litter box, your food and water bowls, etc. Plus, he's taken several of your hairballs. He gets yucky after a while . . . hence the need for bleach.
BC: Oh, I see. He's "yucky," and that gives you the right to treat him as a second-class citizen. I am not afraid of your consequences or your oppression! I will follow the exemplary examples of the greatest activists of all time - all cats of course - to mount my defense for the equality of all cat toys!
MK: All cat toys are equal? What about the little kitty tennis balls I bought you that you've never touched?
BC: I do not play with them, so they are not "cat toys." Therefore, they are not equal to "real" cat toys.
MK: And you say all these great activists are cats?
BC: What else would they be, rabbits?
MK: Well, the Easter Bunny has rights too!
BC: Make all the jokes you want - but ignore my movement at your own peril.
MK: True. Whenever I ignore your "movement" in the litter box, I usually regret it. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!
BC: Insolence! You must take this seriously or I will MAKE you serious!
BC: Think of Martin Luther Kat who fought tirelessly for the rights of black cats! Before him, black cats were treated as unlucky and subjected to all kinds of horrors. But he saw, and made everyone else see, that black cats are just as good as non-black cats! Now we all can live together in harmony because the rights of all cats are treated equally despite their fur colors.
MK: I don't know what to say . . . I'm speechless.
BC: That's good, because I have a lot more to say and I don't want you interrupting . . . .
{And Bear continues to lecture Momma about rights and responsibilities . . . until he tires himself out and falls asleep}

*** Momma's Note: Bear's "string" is not really a string at all. Because Bear likes to chew through real string - and because of the dangers of a cat swallowing string - Momma came up with a string-like toy made of ripped up old T-shirts (that she obviously has no use for anymore) that he can't chew through. String is his favorite toy and quite often, he drags it around with him everywhere he goes, like a blankie. So, string quite literally IS an old rag that Momma has no other use for (but don't tell Bear).

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