Monday, August 31, 2015

Stringed, Surprised, Scared and Out-Smarted

Bear is frequently multiple polar opposites all at once . . . rational and irrational, tough and not tough, loving and not-so-loving . . . which means Momma is constantly on her toes trying to figure out which Bear she is dealing with. And of course, there are always the nuggets Bear tosses in out of no where that knock Momma on her behind as she's trying to figure out where THAT came from.

BC: Bear Cat
MK: Momma Kat


Part I:
BC: MoooooommmmmmMMMa! Where's my string? I looked all over the house and I can't find it anywhere!

MK: I just moved it from the washer to the dryer . . . it should be done in about 45 minutes.
BC: NOOOOOOOO! I need my string RIGHT NOW! If I don't have my string, I can't eat or sleep or use the litter box!
MK: That's why I needed to wash it.

BC: I WANT MY STRING!!!!!!!!!!
MK: Bear, it was in the washer for over an hour and you didn't notice then, so I think you can survive for another 45 minutes without it.

BC: You string swindler! I know you have it hidden somewhere . . . Just so you know, I'm WATCHING you. If you try to eat or sleep or use your litter box with MY string, I WILL MAKE YOU PAY!
MK: Oh, Bear.

BC: Don't "Oh, Bear" me! I don't want your filthy cheese or candy bar remnants on my string!
MK: This from the master cat burglar.
BC: I can't steal what's already mine. Everything in this house is mine - thus I'm not stealing it at all. In fact, by using my belongings, YOU are PILFERING MY STUFF!
BC: RATS!
MK: You just tired yourself out with your dramatic tirades, didn't you? I always admire the show . . .
BC: I'll SHOW you!!!!! After I take my nap. Good day, Ms. Hoodlum Grubby-Fingers.
{Bear prances off}



Part II {Later the same day}:

BC: WAIT! MommmmMMMA!
MK: What's wrong, Bear?
BC: You brought me my string.
MK: Yes, remember, you wanted it as soon as it was dry?

BC: But when I bring you my string, it means I want to play . . . Doesn't this mean YOU want to play?
MK: I have to put the rest of the clothes from the dryer away.
BC: False advertising! I've been hoodwinked! Bamboozled! Defrauded! I'VE BEEN SCREWED!!!
MK: Oh, for crying out loud!
BC: That's what I'm doing! I need to re-fur and re-scent my string NOW! This smells . . . . CLEAN!
MK: You say that like it's a bad thing.
BC: What else would it be?
MK: I clearly am clueless.
BC: DUH! When my string needs water, I drag it to my water bowl. You act like I'm not capable of taking care of my string. I give it baths you know! And you always get mad when you find my string in my water bowl! I can't do anything right!
MK: I get frustrated because the part of the string in your water bowl wicks most of the water out of your water bowl . . . and onto the carpet and your mat which just makes a big mess.
BC: While we're on the topic of big messes . . .
MK: I already took care of it, thanks.
BC: You ruined the surprise!
MK: No, I was surprised alright. Right as I stepped in it.
BC: But I missed it! Now I have to plot another mess! My job never ends!
MK: If it makes you feel better, I was impressed and disgusted at the same time.
BC: Why don't you tell me when you're about to find a surprise I left you?
MK: Because if it was a surprise, I wouldn't know it was there to be found . . . oh, never mind. 
MK: {mumbling to herself} What additional effort would it require to act surprised when I "find" a mess for the second time, only this time with him watching? I already act surprised when he jumps out at me from some place that he was completely obvious to begin with . . . I spend my life acting surprised . . .
BC: Are you talking to yourself?
MK: Yes.
BC: Well, don't let me interrupt your important consultation with yourself with the fact that MY STRING NO LONGER SMELLS LIKE ME!!! And YOU DON'T CARE!
MK: Fine, let's play.
BC: Too late. I'm exhausted. I'll wake you up . . . err . . . let you know when I'm ready to play again.



Part III {the next day}:

BC: Where's my string?
MK: In my bed.
BC: What's it doing there?
MK: You brought it there in the middle of the night, while I was sleeping, because you were finally "ready" to play. So you woke me up, and then left it.
BC: Nonsense! You tried to steal my string! I know, you want to sleep with it too! But it's MINE!

MK: If I was trying to steal it from you, why would I tell you where it is?
BC: You're human. Human = dumb and/or inferior. Therefore, my superior mind cannot comprehend your irrational reasons.
MK: Irrational as in your contention that I'm trying to steal your string when I have plenty of my own toys?
BC: My toys. Everything is my toy.
MK: Because THAT'S not irrational.
BC: I believe our definitions of irrational are different. Cats = smart/rational. Humans = not smart/irrational. Therefore, it is impossible for a cat to be irrational because he or she can never be human. Not that I expect you to understand something rational. Because by definition, as a human, you are irrational, therefore, you have no idea what I'm talking about because I am strictly rational.
MK: I'm going to go stick my head in the oven.
BC: SEE! You ARE irrational!
MK: What are you talking about? You try to get your head in there all the time!
BC: Because there is food in the oven. There is no food in the oven at the current moment, which means, there is no rational reason for you to stick your head in the oven.
MK: When you start making sense, I know I'm in trouble.
BC: It is impossible for me to make sense for you . . . 
MK: FINALLY! Something we agree on!
BC:  . . . because you are irrational and cannot understand the wisdom of The Great Bear Cat.
MK: Oh, for crying out loud!
BC: Where's my string?
MK: I don't know.
BC: How can you NOT know?
MK: When I did know, you didn't like it. So I'm going to try not knowing and see if I get a better result.
BC: So you're claiming you do know and you don't know at the same time?
MK: Yes.
BC: I-r-r-a-t-i-o-n-a-l.
MK: Never mind. I'll get your string and bring it to you.
BC: Finally! We could have saved ourselves this whole discourse, had you just done that in the beginning!
MK: What? That makes no sense!
BC: Exactly!



Part IV {later the next day}:

BC: AHHH-OOOOOOOF! Take that!
MK: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! You surprised me!
BC: I bet you were scared!
MK: I was! I had no idea you were hiding behind your mousie! I probably won't be able to sleep tonight thinking about you jumping out at me out of no where!
BC: I'm formidable, inimitable, and intimidating! Ignore my wishes at your own peril! Ha-Ha!
MK: I love you, Bear.
BC: Love has no place in my world of indestructibility!
BC: Wait . . . does the love bit come with back scratches and ear rubs? Because I could use some of those . . .
MK: Absolutely.
BC: But don't get any ideas . . . I'm just allowing you the pleasure of petting me to console you for being so inept at dealing with my cutthroat nature.

BC: Purrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr . . . even my purr sounds savage . . . PURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.
MK: I love you, Bear.
BC: I know. That's just common sense. PURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR. 
BC: {sigh} I love you, Momma.
MK: Now, THAT'S fierce!




Thursday, August 27, 2015

Fire, Fishy Famine, and Frustration

Another wonderful day in the Momma Kat household! As usual, Bear is feeling neglected and unappreciated - and must show Momma who's the boss. Unfortunately, Bear is foiled once again by not being quite as tough as he pretends to be . . . and Momma keeps reminding herself that Bear IS cute, while barely hanging on to her sanity.

BC: Bear Cat
MK: Momma Kat


Part I:
{Momma's sleeping in the bed; Bear jumps up and situates himself right in Momma's face}
BC: MEEEEEEOWWWWWW.
MK: Wha?
{Momma opens her eyes to Bear's face in her face}
MK: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
BC: I'm glad you're awake! It's an emergency!
MK: Is the house on fire?
BC: No. I want my treat.
MK: I already gave it to you today.
BC: Did not! Once you put out my plate, you leave it down until the next day. There is no plate on my mat. YOU DIDN'T FEED ME!
MK: That's because you licked the plate clean within 5 minutes and I was running the dishwasher, so I put it in.
BC: LIAR! LIAR! Pants on fire!
MK: Bear, I remember, because after you finished eating, you wanted me to pet you and you had fishy all over your chin.
BC: Irrelevant! I'm STARVING! MomMMMMMMMMaaaa!
MK: You're not getting another treat. If you're hungry, you have a full bowl of kibble.
BC: I hate you!
MK: You've only told me that ten times already today: when I brushed your teeth, when I made you come back inside, when I picked you up off the counter, when I clipped your claws, when I caught you trying to knock stuff in the toilet, when I turned my chair around just as you were about to sink your claws into the back of it . . .
BC: And just so you know: if your liar pants set the house on fire I wouldn't wake you up! Burn, baby, burn.
MK: Bear, your cat tree would be part of that. And your food. And your string. And all your micey. 
BC: No. You'd eventually wake up and I know you'd save them all before you saved yourself. Obviously!
MK: Bear, your cat tree weighs 65 pounds and is wedged between two couches - there's no . . . oh, never mind. I keep forgetting logic isn't part of your vocabulary.
BC: You'd let my cat tree burn?!?!?!?
MK: You'd let my house burn?
BC: That's not the same! I hate you!
MK: Eleven.
BC: Eleven what? Is that some evil "person" code?
MK: Yes.
BC: NO! Are we going to be infiltrated by locusts? The plague? GASP! No, a FISHY plague?!?!? What happens if there are no fishy?!?!? I'd starve!
MK: Bear, your kibble is made of turkey.
BC: Like I said, I'd starve! What would I eat with no fishy?
MK: Oh, Bear. Relax. Number eleven isn't the "code" for fishy famine. There's only one infiltrator in our midst.
BC: GASP! WHERE? Is it . . . . watching me?
BC: {whispering} Point in the direction of the infiltrator.
{Momma points at Bear}
BC: {whispering} It's . . . BEHIND me?
BC: {not whispering} AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
{Bear runs under the bed}
MK: Life is never dull in the Momma Kat household.




Part II (the next day):
BC: PSSSSSSSTT!
MK: Where are you?
BC: That's classified information! How do I know you won't tell our little infiltrator where I'm lying in wait for him to show his evil face?
{Momma looks around}
MK: Hmmmm . . . you sure have an awesome hiding spot - I can't find you ANYwhere.
BC: My tail is hanging out the back of the bag again, isn't it?
MK: Ummm . . . actually, this time, it's your entire back half.
BC: Rats! I was hoping to swipe the infidel as he sashayed past my flap.

BC: If I come out, will you promise not to make any, "let the cat out of the bag," jokes?
MK: Okay.
BC: Is it safe for me to emerge?
MK: The only creature you have to fear is yourself.
BC: Why do you always talk in riddles? Is the infiltrator gone?
MK: No. Because I was referring to you as the infiltrator.
BC: Me? Now you tell me?!?!?! Madam, I am no infiltrator. It is YOU who encroaches on my property.
MK: I pay the bills.
BC: With MY money!
MK: Okay, fine. There's no point to arguing with you.
BC: Bear doesn't argue. He only speaks the truth.
MK: I know.
BC: You must be masochistic . . . always getting yourself into these situations you lose miserably.
MK: Who got his hind leg stuck in a jar of peanut butter? And who got his paw stuck in the toaster? Or should I mention the plastic bag handle that got caught on your body?
BC: I have no idea WHAT you're talking about.
MK: This?






BC: I thought I destroyed those photos!?!?!?
MK: Not before I scanned them into my computer.
BC: RATS! You tricked me. I hate you!
MK: And we are back to where we started.
BC: We are not. You are in the dog house. And you know how much I hate dogs . . . 
MK: Then who will feed you?
BC: You're allowed to come out to feed me . . . and to pet me . . . and to play with me . . . and to clean my litter box . . . RATS! You spend all of your time doing those things!
MK: I'm so glad you've noticed.
BC: I still hate you!


Note: Momma {and Bear} believe whole-heartedly in fire prevention and fire planning. In reality, fires are not a joke, as they kill many people and animals yearly. That is why Momma regularly tests her smoke detector and ensures her dryer vents are not blocked (one of the main causes of house fires). Also, Momma uses stickers on all her windows indicating that Bear is inside - to make sure emergency personnel are aware that a pet is present and must be rescued. And for those of you who read Momma Kat regularly, you probably recognize when Bear is being "Mr. Tough Pants," and sounding far more diabolical, confident, and mean than he really is; in reality, he's just trying to irritate Momma or get the best of her - to prove his superiority :)



Sunday, August 23, 2015

"Conversations" With Bear Cat: Part 9

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, the main post was about p
lots, plumage and preening. If you missed this extended "conversation," deserving of its own blog post, you can find it: {HERE}

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

p.s. - If you missed Momma's other posts since the last collection of conversations, you can find the post in memory of Kitty {HERE}, a discussion of the myth of the cat lady {HERE}, and a post all about Bear {HERE}.

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

BC: Bear Cat
MK: Momma Kat

On "whatever:"

Just another day in the Momma Kat household . . .
MK: YIKES! @#$%! &*!@ the %@#&!
BC: Whatever.
MK: You took a chunk out of my thigh! That REALLY hurt! Look! It's already bruising!
BC: Whatever.
MK: What did I do? I was just laying here, in MY bed, and all of a sudden you attacked me!
BC: Whatever.
MK: This has to make sense somehow! WHY? WHAT DID I DO TO YOU?!?!
BC: Whatever.
MK: %&*@ the &^@$!
BC: And you wonder where I learned all the @#$%! curse words.
MK: You're grounded!
BC: Whatever.
MK: ARRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!
BC: If you can't be quiet, please leave. I'm trying to sleep.
MK: And so was I! Besides, it's MY bed!
BC: Whatever. A little self-control would do you wonders!
MK: But you're the one that bit me - completely unprovoked!
BC: Wa-wa-wa. Bear requires plenty of beauty rest. Good night.


On Bear's thoughtfulness:
MK: BEAR!
BC: I didn't do it!
MK: It's regurgitated cat food, you most certainly did!
BC: If you fed me what you ate, you wouldn't be able to tell the difference.
MK: That's not the problem, and you know it.
BC: Whatever.
MK: The least you could do is tell me when you do it so I can clean it up.
BC: I thought that's why I did it right where you walk. It's all in your face and, "I'M RIGHT HERE!"
MK: How thoughtful. Though you have a point.
BC: Duh. Like it's my fault you don't watch where you're going.
MK: Couldn't you just stand by it and meow until I clean it up?
BC: Not my problem. I know where it is, so there's no danger that I'll step in it. That would be your problem.


On Momma's relationship with Bear's butt: 
MK: Hi, Bear's butt! Bear's right, you are kind of cute. And I should know since I spend a lot of time talking to you. What? I treasure our time together too! Oh, sure! You're welcome for all the yummy food I feed the rest of Bear and for playing with the rest of Bear and for keeping your litter box tidy. Yes, you're right, the rest of Bear is a little snotty some times, but I love him anyway. Oh sure! Let's cuddle! I'd love that!
BC: Are you done yet? I get it. My butt is always in your face. You don't like that. Therefore, I always put my butt in your face. You think you're so funny.
MK: What else am I supposed to do - but make the best of a "stinky" situation? He-he-he.
BC: Stinky? STINKY?!?!? My butt is NOT stinky! I'm insulted!
MK: Now you know how I feel when you put your butt in my face constantly. By the way, have you SMELLED your butt recently?
BC: Well, but, but, but, oooooooooh . . . I hate you! I'm off to blow smoke out of my butt in my cat condo.
MK: Don't hurt yourself.
BC: I HATE YOU!
{ps - Bear's butt is not really stinky, Momma just appreciates the opportunity to win an argument every so often. And Bear doesn't REALLY hate Momma, at least I hope not; he just doesn't like to be bested by those he considers woefully inferior to himself.}


On filth and cleaning zen: 
MK: Do you think you could take that slurping, bed-shaking, loud bath somewhere else? I'm trying to sleep!
BC: Dear Monsieur: I do not critique your shower habits, you should be ashamed of yourself.
MK: Mademoiselle.
BC: Huh! You insult me! I am all male.
MK: No, I didn't mean YOU were a mademoiselle . . . oh, never mind. This never ends well for me.
BC: As it shouldn't! Now if you'd just be quiet, I can go back to bathing myself properly.
MK: @#$%&.
BC: Please! Your filth has no place in my cleaning zen. I suggest you leave if you can't manage yourself.
MK: This is my bed!
BC: I'm not going to dignify that with a response, you know better.
MK: You have GOT to be kidding me.
BC: I assure you, I am not. And I will put my fangs where my mouth is!


On cat logic (food bowl variation):
BC: Where's my food bowl?
MK: In the dishwasher.
BC: But I'm hungry!
MK: I dumped out the food on your mat.
BC: But I don't like it that way!
MK: When you have a bowl you just stick your paw in there and bat the kibble out onto the mat anyway . . . what's the difference?
BC: This is an outrage!
MK: Bat the kibble around on your mat. Then eat it. Close enough.
BC: BUT IT'S NOT THE SAME!


On being petted: 
BC: Don't pet me. I'm mad at you.
MK: Ooooooookkkkkay.
BC: I licked your face for 300 seconds and you didn't pet me.
MK: I was sleeping! And that's only five minutes - you know it takes a while for me to wake up.
BC: NO! It was 300 seconds - that is MUCH longer than five minutes.
MK: I'm sorry, Bear. Can I pet you?
BC: No.
MK: Please? I feel really badly for making you wait 300 seconds and it would make me feel better to pet you. Can you do me a favor?
BC: Do I look like a genie? Oh fine. I guess I can endure your selfishness and intrusion. Don't ever say I don't give you anything. I guess you're going to expect me to purr too. Oh the sacrifices we cats make for our humans!
MK: I love you, Bear.
BC: Under protest . . . purrrrrrrrrrrrr . . . just so you know, I'm only purring because you expect me to . . . purrrrrrrrrrr . . . sigh. One of these days I'm going to teach myself to control my purr . . . it's so unfair . . . purrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr . . . I don't enjoy this! PURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.


On Momma's napping spot:
MK: Bbbbbbeearrrr! That's my napping spot! I just got up to switch the laundry over.
BC: It doesn't have your name on it.
MK: How would you feel if you went to nap on your cat tree and I was curled up on one of the perches?
BC: I'd like to see you try to fit more than your butt or a limb on there. Besides, you're over the weight limit.
MK: I was speaking hypothetically.
BC: And I'm speaking theoretically.
MK: Move!
BC: Hypothetically, theoretically, or actually?
MK: Whichever one gets the job done.
BC: No. Now leave me alone. I'm exhausted.
MK: Oh, fine. I'll just go nap on the cold, hard, floor.
BC: Be careful about that spot in the hallway where I left you a present.
MK: BEAR!
BC: Yeah. You're gonna need a nap after cleaning THAT up.


On preauthorized petting time: 
BC: You're laying the wrong way on the bed.
MK: I know. But you're at the bottom of the bed and I'm petting you.
BC: There's a reason I chose to lay at the bottom of the bed.
MK: But before that you were nudging me and licking my face and trying to wake me up for attention!
BC: Your loss. You only had a fixed number of minutes of preauthorized petting time - you snooze, you lose. Think about THAT next time you ignore me.
MK: I was sleeping!
BC: And so was I . . . when you assaulted me with your attentions.
MK: I'm not going to win.
BC: I don't get your inclination to state the obvious. As if!


On cleaning and costumes: 
Note: Bear issued an SOS due to Momma's marathon cleaning session (to which this conversation pertains); you can read it on Bear's Page (Entry #7) {HERE}:
BC: Are you done cleaning?
MK: Why, do you want to help?
BC: Do I look like a maid?
MK: That could easily be arranged.
BC: What?
MK: I could buy you a little french maid costume.
BC: Not if you want to live to see your next cleaning marathon.
MK: But you'd be cute!
BC: Yes, well, all four of my fangs embedded in your flesh is also "cute." But I doubt you'd appreciate that.
MK: You do that all the time anyway! We should try new things . . . like a bear costume for the Bear!
BC: The only thing less likely than me cleaning is me wearing any type of clothes. THE END.


On cleaning and cat treat coupons: 
Note: Bear issued an SOS due to Momma's marathon cleaning session (to which this conversation pertains); you can read it on Bear's Page (Entry #7) {HERE}:
After a day off, the cleaning continues . . .
BC: Momma! You can't throw those away!
MK: The coupons are expired.
BC: But . . . but. . . they're for cat treats!
MK: I won't be able to use them.
BC: I knew you weren't buying me enough treats - to have that many coupons left over? You didn't even buy me our full allotment of cat treats! I'VE BEEN SCREWED!
MK: Bear, it doesn't work that way. You're thinking of rationing.
BC: But . . . I need cat treats!
MK: I can still buy you cat treats - you don't need coupons to buy a product, they're just to save money.
BC: So you can still buy me cat treats if you throw them away?
MK: Yes.
BC: Are you sure?
MK: Absolutely. Would you like to shred the paper?
BC: Blasphemy! I would be struck dead by the kitty gods if I shredded cat treat coupons!
MK: But they're expired.
BC: It's the principle of the thing.


On being the new kid:
Following Momma's blog post in memory of Kitty {HERE} . . . a Kitty-era conversation between Momma and Bear:
{Momma walks in the front door, and looks around}
MK: Ummm . . . Bear, are you OK?
BC: Yeah. Why?
MK: Because you were sitting just like that in the litter box when I left two hours ago.
BC: You remember I followed Kitty in here, right?
MK: Right. After following her everywhere all morning and watching her sleep, eat and use the litter box.
BC: After I came in, she told me I could go first - which was really nice. She told me that while I went she was going to grab a bite of food. She promised to come back and get me so we could take a nap together - but I had to promise her I'd keep the litter box warm in the mean time.
MK: Bear, you can see her food bowl from here.
BC: I KNOW! That's what's so troubling! Something must have happened to her - maybe she got lost or something ate her. We should go find her! I mean, she wouldn't just LEAVE me here, would she? She couldn't FORGET me, right?
MK: {Momma finds Kitty sleeping soundly in one of her favorite hiding spots in another room.} I think we'll just leave her alone. How about we play string?
BC: And flashlight?
MK: Sure.
BC: But what if Kitty gets mad at me for not staying in the litter box until she gets back?
MK: How about some treats?
BC: Oh, oh, treats!
MK: You have to come out of the litter box first.
BC: Oh, right.
BC: TREATS! TREATS! JUST FOR ME! NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM NOMS!
BC: Can we play now? Oh string! I love you string! STRING!


On Bear's tail (Bear/Kitty conversation):
Following Momma's blog post in memory of Kitty {HERE}, a "bonus" conversation between Kitty and Bear (you can find the rest {HERE}):
{Kitty is sleeping in her favorite spot while Bear watches}
BC: Do you think my tail is sexy?
Kitty: {Opening one eye} You do realize I'm sleeping, right?
BC: Do you think my tail is sexy?
Kitty: What?
BC: Isn't my tail sexy?
Kitty: Sure, kid.
BC: So you DO think my tail is sexy.
Kitty: Whatever you say.
BC: My tail is sexy!
Kitty: Did you get whacked upside the head one too many times by your real mom? Maybe your litter mates?
BC: S - E - X - Y!
Kitty: How the heck can Mom go from no-nonsense cat to this vapid moron?
BC: But I'm sexy.
Kitty: If you don't stop sticking your tail in my face, you'll be sorry.
BC: Don't you wish your tail was this sexy?
Kitty: GO AWAY!
Kitty: {mumbling to herself} The quality of our environment has steadily decreased . . . first the Big Dodo and now THIS! I have to question Mom's ability to judge one's character.
BC: My tail IS SSSS-E-XXXXXX-Y!
Kitty: MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMM! The moron is sticking his tail in my face again!
BC: You can't handle my SSSS-E-XXXXXX-Y!
Kitty: Imma about to if Mom doesn't show up soon!
BC: SSSS-E-XXXXXX-Y. {Bear does his little "sexy" prance} I'm too sexy for my tail, too sexy for my tail. Listen to the other cats WAAILLL!
Kitty: MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMM!


On "meantience:"
{Bear walks into the bathroom, looks at Momma in the shower, and gives Momma a dirty look}
BC: What are you doing?
MK: Taking a shower.
BC: With water?
MK: How else?
BC: You could lick yourself.
MK: I have too much surface area and I'm not very flexible.
BC: But you can't pet me in there.
MK: I'll be out in a few minutes.
BC: It will be too late.
MK: Or you can be patient.
BC: If you really loved me, you'd get out and pet me now.
MK: What? So I can pet you for 5 seconds before you attack me?
BC: You think you're so smart and know everything I'm going to do. You don't know what I'm going to do.
MK: Two seconds?
BC: That's more like it. Are you done yet?
MK: Patience.
BC: Meantience.


On Bear's loneliness:
BC: Meow, meow, meow, meow, meow. Meeeeoooow.
MK: Are you singing, talking to yourself or ???
BC: I'd like attention, please. I'm lonely.
MK: {picking up Bear to set him in her lap} Poor, poor Bear.
BC: Are you making fun of me?
MK: No. {petting him} I love you, Bear.
BC: CHOMP. I'm done.
MK: Really? Your fangs embedded in my arm kind of gave that away. You can let go now. Bear? Bear?!?! Bear!
BC: Oh, right. We should do this again soon. {Bear jumps down}
MK: It couldn't POSSIBLY be as fun for you as it is for me.
BC: Duh.


On censorship: 
MK: Bear! Inside!
BC: {as he runs past the door to the side yard} But I haven't had any of the grass in the side yard yet!
MK: It tastes the same as the grass in the front.
BC: How do you know? Have you sampled the grass around our front porch?
MK: IT'S THE SAME GRASS!
BC: It is not. The bouquet, complexity, and aftertaste are completely different.
MK: My cat - the grass connoisseur.
BC: We could make money off this sh . . .
MK: Bear! You know I'm trying not to use questionable language on our blog.
BC: Well, (BLEEP) the (BLEEP) and then (BLEEP) (BLEEP) with the (BLEEP) (BLEEP)!
MK: Did you just string all the curse words you've heard together? Because that made no sense.
BC: Censorship! I am this century's "To Eat a Mockingbird," "The Cat Fur in the Rye," "The Great Catsby," "Cat-22."
MK: {trying not to laugh} Exactly! Your command of questionable language is truly the equivalent of all those "books." But you still have to go inside.
BC: I'm going to put your meanness in my book!
MK: I can't wait. "The Adventures of Huckleberry Cat."
BC: Wrong century.
MK: Inside.


On Momma's new desk chair:
BC: Momma? Where are you? You aren't sitting in your chair!
MK: I'll be there in a minute and then you can jump on my lap for our morning snuggle.
BC: Snuggle? What are you talking about? I need you to weigh down the chair so my claws sink into the fabric better! Since you got this new chair that tilts forward and backward, it moves if you're not in it! Not so good for attaching my claws.
MK: My mistake.
BC: Obviously.


Thursday, August 20, 2015

All About Bear (and Pictures!)

After finding the following list of questions on Facebook, Bear answered these questions about Momma Kat in a previous post {HERE}. Momma finds herself at a loss trying to share what Bear is really like to our readers - all the little particularities that make Bear, Bear - and I never shared a general post about Bear's likes, etc. - so I thought I'd use this format to share some of the basics about my favorite kitty. Plus, I can jam a bunch of random items in this post that may not fit neatly or cohesively in a post about one topic - please excuse that I've seemingly written a book to answer each question. And yes, Momma's well aware that Bear thinks it's all about Bear, all the time. And he isn't wrong; when you share your life with a feline as unique and wonderful as Bear, I dare you not to love him to pieces (even in those moments when he frustrates you to pieces at the same time). 


Me and my Bear: ***LOVE***
 

1. What does Bear always say to Momma? 

"I love you, Momma." 

"Feed the Bear! It's Bear's food time!"



"I'z ferocious tiger! MROW!" 




"Momma! Pet me! Pet me now!" (includes when Momma is sleeping, in the shower or otherwise indisposed - especially when he's just "testing" Momma to make sure she'll drop everything to pet him - and then bites her after 2 seconds) 

"I hate you!" (usually when Bear's claws are being clipped, his teeth are being brushed or Momma is trying to corral Bear back inside . . . basically any time Bear is forced to do something he doesn't like) 

"Don't pet me!" (when we're playing and Bear is just. too. cute. so Momma needs to pet him, when he's in his cat tree, or when he's laid in the same bed or furniture as Momma but positioned himself so that we're not touching)

"I'm glad you're home!"

"You are the best back scratcher/ear-rubber/belly rubber EVER." 


 


2. What makes Bear happy? 

Going outside.

Snuggling with Momma.

Loves. Bear is funny in that you can pet him just about anywhere except his butt and his paws. And he usually prefers that you not be gentle either (except for his belly - he likes gentle there). His lower back, just above his tail, is his favorite spot to get rough scratches. 

Eating.

Playing with Momma. Or anything that belongs to Momma, especially if she's trying to use it at the same time.

Napping in the sun.

Showing Momma who's boss (with fangs, claws and/or misbehaving).


3. What makes Bear sad?

When Momma's not around. 

When his kitty friends don't come visit. 

When Momma is sleeping.

When Momma doesn't let him go outside and eat grass.

When Momma doesn't give him all the treats he can eat. He also doesn't like cheese.

That not all kitties have Mommas that love them, full bellies and homes.


4. How does Bear make you laugh? 

By being his bear-hearted and bear-spirited self. This includes his ploys for attention (licking my face or sticking his wet nose in my ear when I'm sleeping, the plots he comes up with to misbehave, him demanding attention when Momma is working), how he hides behind his toy mice and thinks Momma can't see him, how he stalks Momma around the house and thinks he's so slick hiding in doorways or behind things that are completely obvious that there's a 15 lb cat hiding behind them, and when he's enthusiastic (about play, or food, or love). Descriptions of his most infamous shenanigans can be found {HERE}

It's also pretty funny to watch him try to stop purring . . . you know, when Momma finds that purrfect spot and Bear doesn't want to give in - because he's mad - and he purrs despite himself. 

I also enjoy his penchant for playing in his water bowl - either by dropping his string or one of his micey into his water bowl and then batting them out or just for the heck of it. He's also been known to dip his paw in Momma's drinks, bowls of batter, and the toilet (and then act offended that his paw comes out wet).



One of my favorite Bear stories: because of his inclination to chew power cords, and because my bedroom is the only place in the house with any exposed cords, I used to close him out of my bedroom whenever I went out of town. After a handful of incidents where I came home to find heavily shredded carpet just outside the bedroom door, I decided to place a large, very heavy, water bowl in the place where he tended to shred the carpet. I was gone for a weekend and came back to find the water bowl completely empty, dry as a bone, and moved out of the way. I have to give him credit - the carpet wasn't wet and there was no indication he'd consumed it all, so there's a pretty baffling mystery as to what happened to the large quantity of water in the bowl. Not to mention the bowl being heavy enough by itself, that he normally can't move it. That's determination.

The one thing that always makes me laugh is when Bear hisses. He NEVER hisses - except when I'm trying to get him back inside. I can count the other times he's hissed on one hand - but he hisses EVERY TIME I try to corral him back inside after his grass-eating session. That he hisses just because he's displeased - and not scared or feeling threatening always seems funny to me. Plus that it's ONLY when I make him go back inside. Full disclosure on letting him outside: my yard is fairly contained and set apart from the road - the only times he's tried to run away are the times I've chased him. So instead of never letting him outside - and chasing him in circles every time he snuck out - I decided to let him out for a minute under supervision. And he gets freaked out easily - by other cats, people or dogs up to a couple hundred feet away, birds, squirrels or buzzing insects - so he quite often decides to go in on his own. You can read more about these escapades {HERE}.

He has a strange thing about the bathroom mirror - he likes to prance around the bathroom sink (and watch himself in the mirror) and meow at himself (usually he wants me to be there too - to admire him - but I've caught him there at other times too). 

He also has a strange thing with open doors; ever since I adopted him, he likes to sit behind open doors (between the door and the wall) for no reason. At first, I'd stick things under the door and we'd play, but he really seems completely satisfied to sit back there anyway. 

For a cat that is terrified of boxes and any enclosed space (Momma can't close him into or out of a room - he carries on for literally hours and tears up carpet) - he likes to sit in the pantry. When I open the door, he just walks in, plops down and sits there. And a few times, I've closed the door without realizing he's in there - and gone for a few hours before he meowed to be let out. It's just strange. Of course, he also knows the pantry is where I keep his toys that he's not allowed to play with without supervision - but when that is what he wants, he usually makes a big commotion and then carries the toys away.









He's also been known to get in tug-of-war battles with Momma over his toys. Bear does not like to lose and the toys are his!







Another of the things that I love about Bear, is that he likes "talking." He talks when he wants food, to play, or just for attention. More than once, he's meowed loudly once Momma got in bed - just to make her get up and check on him. He is a loud kitty - whether he's talking, purring, or even sleeping (he has a tendency to snore and meow in his sleep; though he no longer sleeps with his tongue halfway sticking out - now THAT was cute).




5. What was Bear like as a kitten?

Since I wasn't around when he was born - I only know about after the 8 month (or so) mark. Of course, I adopted him because he was more interested in love than food, thereby endearing himself to Momma (to read more about this, see {HERE}). Once inside, he was mostly one big furball of love; he always wanted loving and to be near his newly adopted person. The post on how he got his name is found {HERE}He also loved playing flashlight, with string (and things that look like string like power cords and cables), and batting things around (toy mice, Momma's pens and other belongings). To read about his kittenhood pen fetish where he made off with a significant number of Momma's pens, see {HERE}.



He seemed relatively fearless: he followed Kitty around everywhere and insinuated himself into her life, he opened his mouth to catch the water from the squirts we tried to discipline him with, jumped on top of the cabinets in the kitchen on a regular basis, tore up carpet when he was closed into or out of a room, etc.



He watched the television when it was on and also wanted to be in the same room with Momma when she took a shower.



He had one mouse he loved that I named Mr. Moto. Bear would literally play with him for hours - batting him around until he got stuck somewhere Bear couldn't reach. Then Bear'd wake me up or beg or otherwise ensure Mr. Moto was "rescued," only to get him stuck again in 30 seconds (Momma's life was essentially digging out Mr. Moto and whatever she could fit in between incidents - Bear is quite persistent and NEEDED Mr. Moto). Unfortunately, Bear played with Mr. Moto quite literally until he fell to pieces and there was nothing left. 

Bear followed and watched Kitty EVERYWHERE - in the litter box, to her food bowl, when she slept . . . EVERYWHERE. He was completely captivated by her and really wanted to be her friend. To get an idea of what their interactions were like, a collection of their conversations can be found {HERE}. Many surprises occurred with Bear's arrival in our family - read about those {HERE}. Of course, he also ate her food and drank from her water bowl because it was just so much cooler than his own (not really, he had premium kitten food and her food was diet).


Bear watches Kitty sleep . . . under the bed
Drop of water on Bear's chin, from Kitty's water bowl




6. How old is Bear?

Nine and a half (approximately - I don't know his exact birth date).


7. How tall is Bear? 

He is a long kitty - almost freakishly long. When he stands on his hind legs, he can reach door knobs (which he bangs at to open the door), the top on the kitchen counter, the top of chairs and couches. His length allows him to weigh 15 pounds without the doctor saying he needs to lose weight.




8. What are Bear's favorite things to do? 

Cuddling with Momma. Getting love from Momma.

Sleeping.




Playing (string, flashlight, micey). He also likes bows (he's been known to rip them off presents and walk away with them) and Momma's things that he's not supposed to play with (pens, bras {the straps are like string}, pants with a drawstring, the strap on Momma's camera. etc.). Watching him play with his micey is pretty incredible - he doesn't just bat them around - he picks one up in his mouth and flips his head so the mousie goes flying. The good part of this is that he can entertain himself for a while tossing his mousie around - the bad news is that he flips it so well, I've found micey on top of our 7 foot tall entertainment center - and other high up places you'd never suspect a mousie to be hiding. We used to play fetch with the micey, but over time, he's lost interest. If Momma's lucky, he'll bring the mousie back once and then watch me throw and fetch the mousie.


Momma's camera strap




Though it often changes (at one point he was OBSESSED with pens), he always goes back to his "string." He carries it everywhere (in his mouth), the rest dragging behind him, like a blankie - and it's the only toy he's always in the mood to play with. When he brings his string to me, I usually struggle to figure out whether he's offering to snuggle (with me and the string) or because he wants to play - or both. Full disclosure: Bear isn't allowed to play with "real" string without supervision. The "string" shown in the picture isn't actually string, but shreds of an old t-shirt that I curled up and tied together. Bear likes to chew through "real" string - and knowing the danger that ingested string can create for cats, I made him something he can't chew through, but looks close enough to string that he's happy. When I adopted him, I gave him a catnip piggy on a string - and he kept chewing through it, no many how many times I tied it back together . . . and so now, he's not allowed toys with "real" string either (at least not without Momma supervising).




He also loves the printer - whenever Momma turns it on, he's right there watching for the little, quick-typing elves inside the printer (since he has nine lives, he's convinced he gets nine life missions, and this is the second; his first is catching the little red dot and he refuses to tell Momma the other seven). He also loves the light from the scanner.


"Scan me, Momma!'


9. What does Bear do when you're not around? 

I'm not sure I want to know. Especially after the mystery of the empty water bowl I mentioned in #4. Other than that, I LOVE (sarcasm) coming home to the obvious remains of some kind of "cat party." Some shredded paper, toys (his and mine) and kibble scattered all over the house, a half-empty water bowl, a missing toothbrush, towels pulled off their bars, a mousie floating in the toilet, paw prints all over the kitchen . . . Though I have to admit, I wish I'd been invited because it must have been fun. Oh, and this all happened when Bear was only alone for a few hours. 


10. If Bear becomes famous, what might it be for? 

The blog. I hope he does! He certainly deserves it with the gusto with which he lives his life.

His paper bag bandit skills.


 



11. What is Bear really good at? 

Getting Momma to react. If he feels neglected, he knocks stuff in the toilet, steals Momma's pens, shreds the paper Momma is working on, sticks his paw in the toaster . . . he's also very creative so the rotation constantly changes. To wake me up when he wants attention, he bangs his paw against the wall and between the furniture and the wall, licks Momma's face, and sticks his wet nose in Momma's ear (which progresses to licking and biting Momma's ear if she doesn't react).

Destroying things. Mr. Bear has quite the portfolio of artistic expression: shredded carpet, destroyed blinds (he refuses to go around, so he chews through/off enough slats so that he has an easy access hole), furniture (except for his cat tree and scratching posts, which are pristine), plants (which Momma can't have because of his desire to eat the entire plant and just leave Momma the pot and dirt) . . . Plus, he's very rough on his toys. He really likes to get in there with his claws and fangs and tear them up - at least that part of his destructive tendencies is cute.

"Claiming" Momma's things. Good luck getting him to move without losing an appendage. As he often says, "Bear doesn't share." And Momma is left trying to fit on the couch or bed the best she can. Also, just about every single thing Momma owns is marked with a fang mark - I'm guessing that means they really belong to Bear.


 


Showing Momma she's loved.




12. What is Bear not very good at? 

Being patient.

Dealing with not getting what he wants.

Negotiation. Bear's often told Momma, "Bear doesn't negotiate {or compromise}."

Following directions.

Staying focused when we play - he'll stop himself mid-pounce to clean himself.

Keeping himself from purring when he doesn't want to.

Being alone.

Tolerating Momma's singing or dancing.


13. What does Bear do for a job? 

Be cute. Being the awesomeness that is Bear is an exhausting, backbreaking job. 

Keeps Momma from doing things she's not supposed to do. 

Rids Momma's bed of blanket monsters (he loves "helping" Momma make the bed which means there are fang marks all over Momma's sheets and blankets).





14.What are Bear's favorite foods? 

Everything. Fish (especially sardines), poultry . . . beef a little. Whatever he can nab/steal from Momma. He's gotten Bodacious Onion Dip (with horseradish that Momma couldn't stand), Oreos, and just about everything else on Momma's plate. He likes to drop his micey in Momma's drinks. And if he can't figure out how to eat it, he'll lick the heck out of it. But no cheese! Bear will not eat cheese. 


15.What makes you proud of Bear? 

The way he lives his life and does everything with such enthusiasm and determination. And the best part is that his heart is just as bear-sized as his spirit.

That he seems so secure around me - he seems to feel safe and like he can be himself - in all his wild and wacky ways - and knows that I still love and appreciate him (and maybe love him even more for his spunky personality though I don't always appreciate it in the moment).


16. If Bear were a character, who would he be? 

Bucky Katt from "Get Fuzzy." Momma hasn't read many of the recent strips, but the old ones are pretty funny.


17. What do you and Bear do together? 

Cuddle. He's pretty incredible in what he allows. Most cats don't like to feel "enclosed" by their humans, but he has no problem being wedged between Momma and the couch, or wrapped up in Momma's arms. Momma can give him full body hugs and he's happy.

Play with micey or string. Occasionally, we chase each other back and forth in the house. 

Life seems like a constant power struggle or battle of wits . . . with Momma sorely lacking. But I wouldn't have it any other way.


18. How are you and Bear the same? 

We both act tough (especially around people we trust) but are just huge softies at heart. Our fierceness is only rivaled by our extraordinary capacity for love.


19. How are you and Bear different? 

He's scared of birds, squirrels, bugs that buzz, and just about everything else (his shadow, any toy that makes noise, etc.). Momma isn't scared of much.


20. How do you know Bear loves you? 

Cuddles, cuddles, and more cuddles. He likes being by his Momma. And just like when he was a homeless kitten, he still takes love over food just about every time.

He brings me his favorite toys to snuggle with. He views his toys (the string and his micey) like teddy bears - so when he "gifts" them to me, it's a big deal. Though he carries them around when he needs comfort too. 

He likes to regularly come to me for a few pets (to be reassured) and then goes off to do his own thing.

After he had his tumor removed, he was especially clingy and needed me to stay by his side. That I could provide him so much comfort, just by being there - and that I knew just what to do - made my life.

When he's really scared (storms, weird noises, etc.), he's THISCLOSE to Momma at all times.


21. What does Bear like most about his dad? 

Nothing. He's a big dodo. He hasn't seen Bear in YEARS - and he's just fine with that - which shows you he has a few screws loose because Bear is awesome.


22. Where is Bear's favorite place to go?

His cat tree. Whenever Momma's not available, he spends most of his time on his cat tree sleeping. He also really likes the corner created by his cat tree - between two couches. Momma originally put the cat tree there so it wouldn't be in the way, but since then, Bear's taken over the entire corner and gets very upset if I go back there for any reason (including when his toys are stuck back there). He's been known to dive bomb Momma from the perches as she's contorting to reach back there. It's safe to say that corner has seceded from Momma's house and now enjoys autonomous government by Bear as the king of the castle.




He also has a hiding spot that Momma is completely clueless about - which is where he spends his time when other people are visiting Momma.


23. What nicknames has Bear given you?

Momma, MomMA, MooooommmMMMMA! Or any variation on Momma. Kitty's personality made me think she'd call me "mom," but Bear's personality is more whiney and fits "Momma" perfectly.


Do you have any questions you want to ask me about Bear? As you can tell, I LOVE to talk about him - so comment below or contact us via the contact form or by e-mail!