Sunday, May 31, 2015

On Relationships {Babble From the Psycho}

What could be more fun than discussing relationships with your cat? 
(OK, the {BIRDS/BEES TALK} was definitely more  . . .  something) 
What is a "healthy" relationship? And when should you move on? And does Bear know more about relationships than Momma?

BC: Bear Cat
MK: Momma Kat

BC: Why are you up so early?
MK: What - did I disturb an early morning through-the-window booty call?
BC: Don't be crass - we just stare intently into each others eyes. No booty is involved.
MK: We could call it a "wooty" or a "windooty" call.
BC: I'm not amused.
MK: Besides, you do more than just staring . . . you're also fairly loud with your caterwauling. Though only Meorge replies. And he does use his booty.
BC: Yes, well, he is a bit kinky. Throwing his rump against the window like that. You still haven't answered my question.
MK: I'm taking grandpa to the airport.
BC: He's not my real grandpa right?
MK: What do you mean?
BC: He doesn't bring me treats or presents and doesn't even really touch me unless he has to. Mitten's grandma brings him treats and presents and watches Judge Judy with him.
MK: You WANT to spend more time with grandpa? You usually disappear whenever he comes over or you at least ignore him.
BC: That's NOT the point!
MK: Then what is the point?
BC: I don't feel like he cares about me.
MK: On the rare occasions I'm out of town, he comes over every few days to take care of you.
BC: But he uses our treats!
MK: Bear, it's not like you and me, where we chose each other.
BC: Speak for yourself! I was a free-range cat! Sowing my wild oats! Until you came out of no where, threw me in a carrier, and kitty-napped me!
MK: Yet, in all the time since then, you've never left my front porch when you've had the chance to make a run for it.
BC: Well, I was kind of hungry and it did kind of suck to live outside in the cold and the rain . . .
MK: Unlike us, where we resolved to love each other, we can't choose our families. Instead we have to be grateful for and make the best out of what we do have. People have different needs, different ways they connect with those outside themselves, and different ways of loving other people. Some times in families, those don't match - but it doesn't mean the love isn't there.
BC: Excuses! Babble from the psycho!
MK: You mean psychobabble?
BC: NO. I mean BABBLE FROM THE PSYCHO. Next thing you're going to tell me is that he doesn't read our blog!
MK: Besides, you don't even watch Judge Judy.
BC: Only because YOU don't watch it anymore! I can't reach the remote - remember?
MK: That is true . . . you watched it even more intently than I did - which says a lot.
BC: Until the Big Dodo guilted you out of watching it! I suffered too, you know!
MK: I recognize not everyone has the discerning taste that we do.
BC: You watched all his stupid shows!
MK: Well, I was in love . . . and trying to makes things work . . .
BC: And how did that work out for you? It's like selling your soul to make someone else happy or at least lubricate the relationship - when the problem is the OTHER PERSON.
MK: This from the cat who's trying to mate me off with men for whatever money you can get!
BC: And I noticed how you avoided the subject of grandpa reading our blog.
MK: Just like you avoided the question of why you show disdain for falling in love and trying to have a relationship, yet you're eager to marry me off.
BC: No love involved! A financial arrangement, not a relationship.
MK: You might actually be making some sense.
BC: Thank you - it's rare that you admit to my superior intellect and emotional intelligence. Now why doesn't he read our blog?
MK: I don't know - you'd have to ask him.
BC: Don't you know anything? You always tell me to ask everyone else.
MK: Because I have no idea why other people do the things they do. Like I have no idea why YOU do most of the things you do.
BC: To annoy you.
MK: Let me rephrase that: I have no idea why you do what you do, other than to annoy me.
BC: Better.
MK: Thank you.
Momma! Not Judge Judy! I change it myself!

***Who is Mittens? After reading Texts From Mittens, and getting a response from his {E-MAIL TO MITTENS (Entry #2)}, Bear is obsessed with everything Mittens!*** 


Thursday, May 28, 2015

Having "The Talk" With Your Cat

Another "BONUS" conversation between Bear and Momma . . . a heartfelt talk about the birds and the bees . . . what could possibly go wrong? 
Besides an awkward and embarrassed Momma . . . a shocking revelation that changes Bear and Momma's lives FOREVER!

BC: Bear Cat
MK: Momma Kat


MK: Bear, we need to talk.
BC: I didn't do it!
MK: Huh? Didn't do what?
BC: I don't know how your toothbrush got in the toilet.
MK: My toothbrush is in the toilet?
BC: Isn't that what you want to talk about?
MK: No.
BC: Hmmmm . . . Now I remember, it was someone else's toothbrush, in someone else's toilet . . . . so hard to keep these things straight.
MK: You've never seen anyone else's toilet!
BC: Must of been a dream then.
MK: We'll deal with that later. I want to talk to you about the birds and the bees.
BC: I don't like them.
MK: What?
BC: I don't like them - all the squawking and buzzing . . . all that cacophony hurts my head. 
MK: {trying a different approach} Forget euphemisms. I mean . . . 
BC: {Bear interrupts} I take offense! I don't know what a "phemism" is, but I don't like being called one! It sounds nasty.
MK: Oh my head!
BC: See! You hear the birds and the bees too, right? The noise is enough to make someone crazy!
MK: {thinking: I need to get control of this conversation before I lose my sanity - or what is left of it} NO! I want to talk about the pictures I found on my computer - like the one of a furless cat? Look familiar?










BC: Isn't she pretty?
MK: Bear, I'm afraid this might affect your respect for women . . . 
BC: {Bear interrupts, again} If that's what you're worried about, I already don't respect you.
MK: I know that. I mean looking at pictures like the one you found objectifies women and makes "real" women feel bad about themselves.
BC: Is this about your insecurity? Are you having a bad body image day?
MK: No! If you want friends, even a girl friend - "real" relationships - I can ask around and see if I can find you a playmate. 
BC: And you think I'd rely on YOUR judgment? Look at your taste in men! And besides, I don't want friends that are cats. As a cat myself, I know what they're capable of . . . and I don't trust them. They'd steal the fur from your back if you aren't careful.
MK: Oh for crying out loud! That picture could be of your mother or your sister - how would you feel about that?
BC: Yes! I HOPE it's my mother.
MK: Excuse me?
BC: After I realized I wouldn't get enough money selling you, I decided to look for my real mom. I think that's her!
MK: I'm confused - you didn't download the pictures to . . . ummmm . . . never mind. 
BC: I remember when I was a kitten, there was this furless, HUGE cat that took me under her wing. She gave me ENTIRE BOWLS of food that were immediately refilled! She never told me "no," and let me be myself. We snuggled all day long in a little nest! I bet that was my real mom!
MK: Bear . . . that was me.
BC: WHAT?!?!?!?!? How come you don't act like that anymore?
MK: Because you're no longer a four pound, scared kitten, in a new home.
BC: Are you sure?
MK: Last time at the vet you weighed 14  1/2 pounds . . . yeah, I'm pretty sure. Though you are still scared of everything (but me, of course) . . . 
BC: NO! Are you sure you're the mom I'm remembering?
MK: Did this "momma" also keep putting you into the litter box?
BC: Well, yeah . . . wait a minute! Damn. You shrank! I thought there was something familiar . . . and I didn't feel myself being picked up by the scruff of the neck so I just thought my mom had a soft touch. And now that I think about it, this mom didn't have a tail either!
MK: So that was what these pictures were about? You're looking for your "real" mom? 
BC: Not anymore! She must have abandoned me! I'm an orphan! Just unloved and unwanted . . . tossed aside like trash . . .
MK: Oh, Bear. I'm sure she didn't do it on purpose.
BC: MY MOM MISPLACED ME LIKE A RAT CARCASS - BUT BECAUSE YOU CLAIM IT WAS UNINTENTIONAL, I SHOULD FEEL BETTER?
MK: But we found each other, right? I chose you and want you and love you! You nosed your way in to my heart and now I can't imagine my life without you.
BC: Is that supposed to make me feel better?
MK: What would make you feel better?
BC: A WHOLE CAN of wet food and dedicated snuggling time, with two-handed loves!
MK: How about your normal-sized snack and the cuddling?
BC: YOU HATE ME! {Bear thinks a minute} . . . With two-handed rubs?
MK: Of course.
BC: But we do that every day!
MK: Doesn't that tell you something?
BC: NO! Maybe . . .  PURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR . . .
MK: I love you, Bear.
BC: I GUESS I'll survive . . . PURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR . . . such a hard life . . . PURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR . . .

Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Butts, Boxes, Porn, Taking Over the World . . . and Fish?!?!?

A "BONUS" conversation between Bear and Momma . . . randomness to the max (but also a lot of fun)!

BC: Bear Cat
MK: Momma Kat

MK: Bear, can you explain something to me?
BC: Probably not.
MK: Why? Because you realize most of the stuff you do makes no sense?
BC: Nnnoooooo. Because cats are a higher life form and you don't have the cognitive ability to understand.
MK: You lick your own butt!
BC: Would YOU rather do it? REAL kitty mommas lick their babies'  butts FOR them. And besides, cats have manipulated you dopey humans so that we are fed, loved, and protected - all our needs are met - all we have to do is NOTHING. FREE! FOR LIFE! You idiots find our sleeping cute - so we can terrorize you during our waking hours and you STILL comply. Show me even ONE human who's accomplished that! 
MK: Did Kitty tell you that?
BC: NO. Maybe.
MK: Whatever. Back to my question. I don't get why you freak out when you're in your carrier or when you're closed in a room (intentionally or not) - and you won't go near an open box - but you have no problem hanging out in the pantry - even when I accidentally close you in there (what? the record is like 2 or 3 hours?) - or lounging behind an open door and the wall. 
BC: So what's the question?
MK: How do you explain the difference? It doesn't make sense! Especially because you have to sniff closed boxes to the point where I have to wait for you to finish before I can even attempt to open them - and then you disappear until the open box does.
BC: I'm checking the closed box for infidels, invaders, usurpers and illegal substances - I have to keep myself safe you know.
MK: Infidels like terrorists?
BC: No, mostly dogs, bunny rabbits, birds, squirrels, snakes, geckos . . . you get the idea.
MK: So any way, most cats LOVE open boxes - Kitty was satisfied for MONTHS with a new box.
BC: Simpleton.
MK: Dude! She handed you your ass on a platter several times. And she was 15 years older than you, didn't have front claws like you do, and had one less fang!
BC: Brain vs. brawn, my friend.
MK: I'm pretty sure she frequently outsmarted you too. How long did you sit in the corner waiting to turn into an all black cat - all because she told you to?
BC: That's not what we're talking about. You wanted to talk about boxes.
MK: How convenient that you now remember what we were talking about.
BC: Boxes are so PEDESTRIAN.
MK: Where did you learn that word? I've never used it! Have you been on the internet when I'm gone?
BC: {silence}
MK: THAT explains where the kitty porn came from! Is this yours?
BC: Hey! That's good stuff! And I read that dogs are pedestrian - and dog equals dumb and useless. Like boxes. You didn't delete the picture did you? It's my favorite!
MK: I guess . . . if you like . . . I don't even have the words.
BC: That's what I thought too! I'm speechless!
MK: I didn't mean in a good way.
BC: Hey, you aren't exactly all that hot when you're naked either . . . or when you're clothed for that matter.  Nightmares!
MK: So what else were you doing online?
BC: Hunting.
MK: For?
BC: Fish.
MK: Online?
BC: There's a website just for fish.
MK: Let me guess - {synonym of abundance}offish.com.
BC: How'd you know? Were you looking for fish to give me too?
MK: No. Wild guess. So you put your picture in the profile?
BC: Of course not - don't be stupid - I used a picture of the yummiest looking fish I could find, hoping to get a similar match. See?
BC: It's a "catfish." Did you know there's such a thing as a catfish? It sounds perfectly formulated for cats!
MK: You think that's why it's called a catfish?
BC: What else could it be?
MK: It has whiskers. Like a cat.
BC: A fish with whiskers? Next thing you'll tell me is that there's a type of squirrel that flies!
MK: Ummmmmm . . . 
MK: You wouldn't even know what to do with a whole fish! You'd just sit there licking it for hours.
BC: Licking it makes it last longer!
MK: So you expect your chosen fish to just come swimming up to our front door? 
BC: Ideally.
MK: What happens if a shark or another cat shows up at our front door?
BC: They couldn't. The site is only for fish!
MK: Like you? 
BC: You mean the other profiles could be fake too?
MK: You aren't the first living thing to come up with the idea of a fake profile {or at least a wildly modified one} to get a desirable mate.
BC: You mean not everything on the internet is real or true? There's not really an underground network of cat terrorists plotting to take over the world? 
MK: Probably not. Besides, why would you trust a website with atrocious spelling?
BC: I thought it was typed by humans! This possibility was my only reason for living!
MK: Like a network of cats would even get along long enough to accomplish something. Not to mention you all sleep like 18 hours a day: that cuts into your work time. How did you even find these "matching" websites anyway?
BC: I heard rumors that you could sell your dog on e-Bay.
MK: We don't have a dog!
BC: I know that. Just in case. I thought the matching websites were the e-Bay for people: so I searched for websites I could offer you on and figured if I could get a decent offer on you, I should go for it. Then I found the fishy site and got distracted. But no fear - I went back to my original plan.
MK: And how did that go?
BC: I calculated the amount of money I'd need for the rest of my life . . . but all I could get for you was the equivalent of one can of wet food . . . that's not enough for even one day!
MK: And where did you place this offer?
BC: Some "dating" site. What's "dating?" Never mind. Anyway, I had to fill out a whole profile for you - including strengths and weaknesses.
MK: And what did you put?
BC: Strengths: I love cats. I have an awesome cat. My cat is a lot of fun and very cute. Everyone loves my cat. Weaknesses: I'm not a cat. I'm not good enough for my cat. PLUS, I included ALL the best pictures of myself! Aren't I so smart? Who could resist?
MK: So you posted an entire profile of cat pictures and statements about cats?
BC: Obviously!
MK: {Momma trying really hard not to laugh} No wonder you didn't get any decent offers!
BC: Are you insulting me? I chose to highlight myself because I'm irresistible and I figured any guy would tolerate you if it also meant getting me! I'm cute!
MK:  Yes, but all that talk about cats freaks normal men out. Ever heard of a "cat lady?"
BC: I'm not picky! If he pays well, he doesn't have to be normal. And I thought "cat lady" was a compliment!
MK: Oh fantastic! Set me up with a "not normal" guy - like I can't find those kinds myself!
BC: Besides, what problem do men have with cats?
MK: I don't know, you'll have to ask one.
BC: Oh sure . . . because YOU'RE going to have another date before I die. It's hopeless! I'm stuck here with you FOREVER!
MK: I guess I should be thankful you didn't sell me into slavery . . .
BC: Would that pay more?
MK: I love you, Bear.
BC: A lot of good that does me!
{Momma starts to pet Bear}
BC: PURRRRRRRRRRRR . . . Damn it! PURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR {sigh}. PURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR heart emoticon

Sunday, May 24, 2015

Life With a Cat {oh what FUN!?!?}

You Know You've Adjusted to Life With a Cat When . . .

* You step in his "creations" and don't even flinch - nor do you bother to look what it is before you bring the supplies to clean it up (and you are an expert at getting stains out of carpet . . . or furniture . . . or sheets and clothes).

* When you vacuum, you look like you're in a field of land mines - avoiding spots that no one else really notices - because you don't want to have to stop the vacuum AGAIN to extricate another strip of carpet exposed when your cat decided he was bored (or mad, or frustrated, of just for the heck of it).

* You acknowledge that the cat and the vacuum are mortal enemies. They cannot and will not peacefully coexist. EVER.

* You no longer yelp when you step on or lay on cat toys - they are everywhere and you know it's bound to happen sooner than later.

* Everything smells like fish (90% of the wet food you give the cat is fish - by demand). EVERYTHING. The cat's breath (and sneezes), the cat's creations, etc. are ALL fish. The thought of eating fish yourself causes you to want to make a "creation" of your own.

* Every time you go in and out the front door, you make sure to locate the cat before you lock the door (and you are constantly on guard for escapees).

* You give up trying to close the bathroom door or any door in your house because the closed door just provokes the cat to tear up the carpet on whichever side of the door that cat is on. Even if he doesn't actually want to be on the other side of the door. It's the principle. 

* Everything you eat must be seasoned with cat hair. As soon as the container is open - boom - magic! It's inevitable. Whenever out, you look at the food oddly, trying to figure out why it looks strange - and then actually comment to yourself that your meal is fur-free (and question whether the meal will be nutritionally adequate because of this).

* Everything you own has cat fur and/or fang marks on it (and you wash clothes right before wearing them to minimize fur deposits, instead of right after wearing them. Leaving clothes in the dryer until you need them becomes a "thing:" you are faced with determining the lesser of two evils - fur or wrinkles, wrinkles or fur?). 

* You walk around the house in a way an outsider would think was bizarre (a series of odd stops, sideways movements, skips, and leaps): 1) so as not to provoke your cat's hunting instinct, or 2) so as to avoid stepping on a cat lounging in the middle of the room or hallway (especially in the dark), or 3) for the times when your friend is following you everywhere to avoid tripping over (or stepping on) the cat (or his tail). Bonus points if you've had to go to the doctor because of these antics - and you told the truth of how you got hurt (ie exhibiting resignation).

* Your furniture looks like it went through a shredder. The only nice piece of furniture is the cat tree (and its pristine scratching posts).

* You accept that no home decorating project is complete without the "modifications" of your cat. Because "cat-safe" spots are at a premium (and don't receive sunlight) many pretty things must be left in their boxes, in the closets, and plants are not allowed (unless you enjoy waking up in the morning to a pot tipped over and a pile of dirt - with no trace of the plant or its roots). Also, the cat is a humbug when it comes to holiday decorations so you no longer even attempt to be festive (preventing the cat's need to be "festive" himself). You give up on holiday decorations even for "safe" real estate because the cat spends so much time staring at them and seemingly plotting ways to "redecorate" them, that you become paranoid and put them away anyway.

* You know you can't leave your food unattended: at the very least, the cat will "sample" the offering (lick it) - and at worst, it will disappear. Also, unattended drinks might find themselves knocked over or with a toy mouse floating in them (which you begin to believe constitutes a threat of some kind).

* All your cords (electrical, blinds, etc.) are taped to the wall because your cat thinks they look like string.

* You recognize that your toys are his toys - anything you want can usually be found in the trash can, in the toilet, or under the furniture. Except for the "x" key from your laptop which you've recognized is never coming back.

* You stop buying the cat fancy toys because he forever shuns them in favor of the packing, the milk ring, or any item you need to do whatever it is that you are doing at that moment.

* You've lost any sense of modesty so that having an audience to go to the bathroom or take a shower no longer fazes you. In fact, you only notice when you don't have an audience. Yet you still feel mildly guilty for walking into a room and catching your cat lick his butt.

* You no longer freak out when little furry things jump out at you and you are used to that dark ball that's almost constantly stalking you through the house.

* You treat bite and scratch marks as a part of life. The only times you think about it are when someone says something like, "Oh my gosh! What happened to you!?!?" and you momentarily panic until you realize they're just talking about your "souvenir" from the cat and not a gushing head wound.

* You habitually check the pantry before closing the door so as not to close your cat in there. Because even though he hates boxes, carriers and being closed in rooms - he has no problem walking into the pantry and hanging out there for hours. In fact, he's been closed in there more than once for a couple hours without a peep. And this is the cat that everyone within a 50 mile radius hears when he is not happy . . . much less upset.

* You get used to catching your cat staring at the wall or hanging out behind open doors - just for the heck of it. You no longer wonder if he's cognitively challenged and just accept that he has an entire inner world that has nothing to do with you.

* You openly admit that cats are a higher life form and therefore give up trying to make sense of what they do (or don't do).

* You have to keep a close eye on toasters, pens, chargers, stuffed animals, pants with a drawstring, bras, toothbrushes . . . and anything that might prove an annoyance to your cat. He has no problem whacking stuff for bothering him and also has no shame in lugging things that are 10 times his size across the house because he feels the need to "redecorate."

* You dread wrapping a large number of presents at one time, because inevitably, the practice becomes an epic battle to preserve your bows and keep them on the presents you've already finished wrapping. 

* Other dreaded epic battles (to the death of one of you): clipping claws and brushing Mr. Cat's teeth.

* You know that anything sitting on the counter or table that wasn't there before (glasses of liquid and utensils especially) will shortly hit the floor as your cat "cleans" up for you because that is not where they belong. And while technically, the cat doesn't belong on the counter either, you've given up hope of trying to stop it.

* You know better than to leave any important papers sitting out (tax documents, car title, social security card . . . ), because your cat thinks he can do a better job than your shredder (even when those documents were not headed for the shredder - he feels the need to practice).

* You get weirded out when you can work for a couple hours straight, uninterrupted.  You get up to make sure the cat is still alive and wonder if he is mad at you (and you feel guilty despite your productiveness).

* You accept that any trip to the vet is going to be traumatic for both of you. It's hard to say who dreads it more.

* You accept that your cat likes to dig his claws into everything and is not satisfied by merely batting things around: furniture, you, toys . . . 

* You accept that the cat will have his nose in everything: anything new that comes in the door, food, whatever you're doing (especially if it's on the floor or involves work that you have to do).

* If you rent your home, you lose any hope of getting the refundable deposit back. EVER.

* Your gut reaction to a leash is a shaking of the head and a chuckle (or nightmares). 

* Ditto for baths.

* You accept weird mood changes from the people around you without batting an eye because that's just life when you have a cat (who goes from "pet me" to "NO!" and back in about 5 seconds).

* You notice that you see more of your cat's butt than his face - and it no longer bothers you (much).

* You grudgingly admit that your cat has at least two hiding spots that you will never find; whenever the cat is in those spots, he's lost to you and not coming out until he feels like it. Therefore, if you MUST take him somewhere (ie vet) you have to make sure he doesn't get far enough away from you to slide into one of those spots before you get there (or see).

* Ditto for lost toys. The cat has a variety of spots where he loses toys and they will never be seen again unless he finds a way to get them out by himself.

* You are no longer phased by the cat jumping on the table and staring at you while you eat (or more precisely, staring at the food, then you, then the food again, on and on into infinity). You know giving the cat a sample will not change a thing - he will continue to stare at you. And you also know that putting him on the floor is pointless because he will hop right back up.

* You understand that the cat is the supervisor of everything you do. Not only will he watch you constantly (and give you disapproving looks) - he knows every single thing you are not supposed to be doing and doesn't shrink from challenging you on it.

* Forty pounds of cat litter and twenty pounds of cat food don't seem like a lot. Even when your cat weighs fifteen pounds. Your arm muscles are well toned from lugging all this around (and you know the fifteen pound squirming, squealing cat feels much heavier than the other two combined).

* While you might not become the most patient person in the world, your capacity for patience is expanded exponentially due to the fact that every feline decision has untold life and death consequences - up, down, in, out, cuddle, no cuddle - and you are left waiting and holding the door (literally and figuratively).

* Ditto for flexibility - you've learned that no matter how much you want or need to do something - if the cat doesn't approve at that specific time - it's not happening. Sleep and work are NOT adequate excuses for not giving the cat attention when he so desires - if you are in the middle of one of these activities when the cat desires attention, you must stop immediately and give the cat attention. Trying to ignore him in such circumstances is futile as his determination will always outlast yours.

* You accept that there are places your cat hangs out that you are not to disturb him or so much as look at him when he is in those spots (litter box, cat tree, while sleeping, or while he is stalking or hunting you).

* Furthermore, you become an expert at pretending the cat is invisible: 1) when he's actively stalking or hunting you (even if he's hiding behind a toy mouse 1/1000th of his size) and 2) when he's hidden in a spot where only an ear, tail or nose is visible or such that you see a lump that is remarkably similar to the shape of a cat (under sheets/blankets/curtains).

* You are no longer bothered that the cat must stay in "cat" persona at all times. He might come when you call, or play fetch or meet you at the door - but with each of these reactions, comes an (at least) equal and opposite reaction (respectively: stopping two feet short of where you are and pretending that he just found himself two feet away from you and isn't sure how he got there and could care less that you are two feet away - fetching one time and then letting you get the rest - and biting you when you reach down to pet him at the door, even though he's purring and rubbing up against you).

* If you're cooking and your cat is neither on the counter, nor under your feet, you feel "weird" and check to make sure he is alive.

* You know turning on the printer or shaking the bag of cat snacks are the easiest ways to make your cat come running (and you also know that it does not work if the carrier is out of the closet or people are visiting).

* You recognize the cat gets first dibs on everything: food, furniture, floor space . . . even if you are already settled in (and asleep). The cat knows advanced geometry and will figure out how to spread himself out so that he takes up the entire space or at least makes it so that you have to contort yourself in a way that will cause you pain for days. Cat does not equal share - or equal for that matter.

* You understand perfectly what the phrase "the cat has the crazies" means - and "crazies" becomes a verb and a noun, as well as an adjective.

* You never have to ask what "caterwauling" means.

* You accept that losing feeling in parts of your body is the cost of snuggling: either because the cat demands you snuggle in a particular way that causes you pain or because you treasure the cuddling so much that you don't want to move and risk ending the best part of your day.

* You accept that bed time is marked by the cat sitting in a particular spot, in a particular way, and with a particular look - all of which mean, "I'm ready for bed, are you coming or not? . . . I'm not going to wait forever (forever to a cat = 5 minutes or less)!"

* You no longer look at a clock because your cat makes it clear when it is time for a meal (especially his), bed, or any other item of your routine (the cat knows your routine - good bye to sleeping in on weekends or anything else that equals a change from the norm).

* You dread any time spent at home without your cat - it feels lonely and you constantly panic without thinking because you don't see or hear all the noises that tell you that you are home (purring, pitter pat of little feet, licking, etc.). You have no idea what to do with yourself. And even though he's not there, you continue to talk out loud as if he is.

* The sound of purring is more relaxing than any sound machine or relaxation soundtrack.

* When you walk up to your front door, you check for the cat in the window.

* You can't fall asleep if your cat is not snuggled next to you.

* Despite the bluster, indignant attitude and wild idiosyncrasies of your feline (and how easy it is to laugh at them), you find that he has a heart that equals, if not exceeds, the size of even the most loving of people and dogs.

{Here one's I know most people experience (as I did with Kitty) - but with Bear I do not (as he is scared of open boxes): You know any box the cat claims is the equivalent of his teddy bear. If you throw away, move, or otherwise tamper with the box, you are in deep doo-doo and guilty of the equivalent of murder.}

*** Did I miss any? Please leave your ideas, suggestions and additions in the comments! ***


This accounting stuff is so boring . . . I take nap.
Aww . . . THIS is why I do it.

Saturday, May 23, 2015

New Pages!

Momma Kat is expanding! I've added three new pages to the blog in the past few days . . . 


CAST OF CHARACTERS


BEAR'S PAGE


BEAR'S WISH LIST


Bear and I hope you enjoy the additions - and Bear is especially excited about having his own page {which I might regret at some point}.

Wednesday, May 20, 2015

"Conversations" With Bear Cat: Part 4

Ever wonder about what conversations occur in the Momma Kat household? See the previous collections {HERE}{HERE}, and {HERE}.
Here's a sample from the past week (some already posted to Momma Kat's Facebook page):

BC: Bear Cat
MK: Momma Kat


On being lovely:
{Bear walks around the bathroom sink meowing - loudly of course}
MK: Are you OK?
{Bear stands up on his hind legs and reaches up to where the hand towel usually hangs}
BC: Where's the hand towel?
MK: In the wash.
BC: But I wanted to knock it in the toilet now!
MK: I guess you'll have to wait . . . or maybe just not do it at all.
BC: No, no, it'd definitely bother you more if I did it right after you washed it . . . this could work . . .
MK: Lovely.
BC: {Looking at himself in the mirror} I know I am!


On Bear’s “wish list:”
BC: Momma?
MK: No.
BC: Momma?
MK: NO!
BC: Why do you keep saying no? You don't even know what I want!
MK: Considering your latest requests, I think "no" is a safe bet.
BC: But MMMMMOOOOOMM!
MK: No chickens. No more treats. No cattle prod. I don't have the power to modify the weather or give you opposable thumbs. And sometimes I actually do need to sleep. Did I miss anything?
BC: You think you're sooooo smart! How do you know what I want the cattle prod for?
MK: I have a good imagination.
BC: You're mean.
MK: So you keep telling me.
BC: I want my "real" mom!
MK: You mean the one that abandoned you and failed to teach you the necessities of being a cat?
BC: I'll show YOU the necessities of being a cat.
MK: Usually cats don't run from their prey.
BC: Usually humans have a life apart from their cats!
MK: This from the cat that licked off half his fur the last time he was left alone for a few days!
BC: Ooooooooooooh. I feel the need to destroy something!
MK: Go for it. Most of the stuff I own is already destroyed in one way or another so a few more whacks at them won't make much of a difference. If you stopped destroying things, I'd be convinced something is really wrong with you.
BC: You don't know everything!
MK: Yes, well, you are at least mildly skilled at the element of surprise.
BC: Thank you.
MK: You're welcome.
BC: Can we cuddle now?
MK: I love you Bear.


On Momma sleeping:
BC: Momma? MomMA! MOMMA!?!
{Bear sticks his wet nose in and around Momma's ear for what feels like 10 minutes}
MK: Mmmmmm . . . ehmmmmm . . . wha?
BC: You can pet me now.
MK: Ehmmmmm . . . sleeeep . . . me . . .
{Bear nuzzles Momma's ear with his wet nose for what feels like 15 minutes}
BC: YOU CAN PET ME NOW!
MK: Bear, I just fell asleep and I haven't been sleeping well - I really need this. Give me a break. I'll pet you when I wake up.
BC: Now. NOW. NNNNNOOOOOOW! I might not want to be petted when you wake up.
MK: Well, I don't want to pet you while sleep is deigning to visit me. You can live for a few hours without attention. Here's an idea: snuggle up with me and take a nap.
BC: But I've already slept for 10 hours today! And just because YOU have to live days without attention doesn't mean that I should have to go without. I'm cute. I'm adorable. I'm Bear! You are mean and selfish! Wait! Wait!?!?! Why are you moving? This is not conducive to petting!
MK: I'm just rolling over so I can pet you since I'm clearly not sleeping.
BC: PURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR . . .
{Bear bites Momma after 15 seconds of petting}
MK: Owww! What's that for? You got what you wanted!
BC: I don't want to be petted anymore. Leave me alone. I need a nap.
MK: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
{Needless to say, Momma can't go back to sleep . . . Welcome to her life.}


On feeding Bear:
Dear Cat,
While I certainly appreciate that you want your treat as soon as possible - and therefore you must not only be on the counter while Momma is dishing it up, but you must also have your nose all up in my business - it actually takes Momma longer to dish up your food when she's having to work around you and there is always the chance that you will move your head at the last moment and end up with wet cat food on your head (like happened today). And while I have to admit it is mildly funny, I'm guessing you'd prefer it on your plate instead of on your head. Just food for thought (pun intended).
 heart emoticonMomma Momma


On whole chickens:
BC: Momma? No one's sent me a whole chicken yet! 
{Referring to "
From the claws of Bear Cat" conversation thread HERE}
MK: I'll count my blessings. I love you Bear, but I'm not cleaning a whole chicken for you. And what if it was still alive? You never specified and I know YOU aren't going to kill it. You'd just hide under the bed until Momma took care of it.
BC: But you try to kill me all the time.
MK: If I tried to "kill" the chicken like I try to "kill" you, you'd have to share your stuff with a live chicken.
BC: Bear doesn't share. Oooooh a fly! Momma! Kill it! It's going to attack me! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! My life is flashing before my eyes! {Bear runs under the bed}.
MK: Welcome to my life. Never a dull moment - chicken or no chicken.


On being patient and flexible:
BC: MEOW!
MK: Can I help you?
BC: I want my food right MEOW!
MK: I'm in the middle of something . . . just wait a minute.
{Bear Cat starts ripping up the back of the chair Momma Kat is sitting in}
MK: For crying out loud! You aren't starving.
BC: It's not my fault you have poor time management skills!
MK: You won't die if I feed you your treat one minute past the usual time. Be flexible!
BC: One minute?!?! After you're done it will take you 30 seconds to get my food ready, another 30 seconds to brush my teeth, and a few minutes for you to brush my luscious plumage. That's like 6 HOURS late! And flexible? If you mean that literally, I don't see you licking your butt. And if you mean that figuratively, claiming to be "flexible" is only for weak-minded, weak-willed humans who don't have the wherewithal to get what they want.
MK: Are you done?
BC: No, I'm waiting for you. I want my food meow.
MK: Patience is a virtue.
BC: Of weak-minded, weak-willed humans who don't have the wherewithal to take what they want when they want it. Can I have my food meow?
MK: You can be such a pain in my butt.
BC: And your giving in PROVES that you are "patient" and "flexible."
MK: No, it just proves I pick my battles. Some times it's just not worth it to try to negotiate.
BC: I don't negotiate.
MK: No kidding!


On loving Bear:
Every night before I go to sleep, with Bear cuddled up next to me and everything right in my world, I tell Bear I love him. Does he understand or even care? Maybe . . . but I'd hope he knows how I feel by the way I treat him and give him as much of my time as I can every day - all day . . . that should tell him how I feel more than words ever could. Even so, my nightly declaration isn't a habit or something I do without thinking - something to just check off a list before I go to sleep. I say it every night because in the moments between when I turn off the light and when I fall asleep, I think about how blessed I am to have such a wonderful little guy to share my life with. I say it because I'm overwhelmed with love and appreciation and recognizing just how lucky I am. And that awareness - which happens every night, all over again - is a gift in itself.


On entertaining Bear:
MK: So you've been sitting there for 15 minutes just looking at me . . . what do you want?
{silence + staring}
MK: You have food, your litter box is clean, you don't want me to touch you and you ignored my efforts to play - WHAT COULD YOU POSSIBLY WANT?!?!?!
{further silence + further staring}
MK: I feel like I'm missing something here. Am I really that bad of a Momma that I can't figure out what the hell you want?
{more further silence + more further staring}
MK: Do you just want my attention?
{even more further silence + even more further staring}
{Momma turns around and ignores BC}
{10 minutes later, Momma turns back around to face BC - who is still sitting there staring at Momma}
MK: ARRRGGGGGGGAHHHHHHHHH! I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!
{yet even more further silence + yet even more further staring}
MK: Are you trying to drive me crazy?!?!? Because you're doing a fantastic job!
BC: {Thinking: It's so easy. If it were any easier it wouldn't be fun. Yay to making your own entertainment! And thank you Momma for being you!}
{Bear walks over and jumps on couch and falls asleep.}