Friday, November 27, 2015

Bear "Celebrates" Momma's Birthday

Have you ever found yourself unwittingly in the middle of a cat party? Or do you just find the remnants and wonder WHAT the HECK the cat did? Shredded toilet paper and important documents . . . dry food and litter all over the house . . . a bunch of things floating in the cat's water bowl and the toilet . . . toys EVERYWHERE (including ON TOP of the 7 foot tall entertainment center, down the kitchen garbage disposal, in the toilet, in your bed, in the bathtub . . . ) . . . an ENTIRE closet of clothes off the hangers and on the floor . . . kitchen appliances missing . . . and all this in an hour or two that the cat was alone. As you're cleaning up the mess, you might find yourself wishing you were invited - because from that perspective, the party at least looked fun. So what's a cat's idea of the purr-fect party? The perfect gift? And does it change when the "party" is for the human servant? Or are any "celebrations" really toward the cat's ends and desires . . . and not about the recipient at all?

BC: Bear Cat
MK: Momma Kat

Part 1:
BC: So your birthday's coming up right?
MK: Yes. November 25th, why?
BC: This year I want to go all out! You know, in appreciation for you feeding me kibble (aka fake food), and you only cuddling with me for four hours each day (the snuggles when you sleep don't count because you aren't awake to admire me), and you only playing with me for an hour each day, and you "protecting" me by not letting me outside . . .
MK: I'm sorry . . . was there appreciation in there that I missed?
BC: Right. Whatever. Anyway. I want to give you something extra special.
MK: I don't know, Bear. The hairball you gave me last year was almost more "special" than I could take.
BC: HEY! That was Grade A - Extra Premium Fancy Bear Cat Fur I gave you!
MK: In regurgitated fish innards and fish gravy!
BC: Right. Whatever. Now I'm hungry. Can I have some treats?
MK: No.
BC: Fine! But show some appreciation for my present!
MK: You mean like your statement of "appreciation" earlier in this conversation that was full of veiled complaints?
BC: Right. Whatever. I want to get you something special.
MK: That's very sweet, Bear! Spending the day with you is all I need though.
BC: Well, OBVIOUSLY. You can't get any better gift than MOI, The Great Bear Cat!
MK: I agree.
BC: So can I have a couple hundred dollars?
MK: For my gift?
BC: Crap! Make that four hundred dollars.
MK: Oh no . . . 
BC: I know how you've been looking at all those whole chickens! I definitely think you should splurge and get yourself one . . . from me. And one for me too - since we'll probably get some kind of volume discount if we get more than one.
MK: How convenient . . . for you. But we both know that the only reason I've been looking at a lot of whole chickens is because you keep e-mailing me pictures of chickens from the internet . . . even though you're technically permanently grounded from the internet and the computer.
BC: Right. Whatever. For all I know, you send them to yourself . . . they're sent from the same account as the one you get them from.
{Pause}
BC: FINE. I'll compromise and we can get just one whole chicken . . . as long as it's mine. Because Bear doesn't share.
MK: Nice compromise.
BC: I thought so! 
{Pause}
BC: How do you wrap a chicken?
MK: Let's hope we never find out.
BC: Can you at least get the bows out for me to roll around in?
MK: And that would be my birthday party?
BC: Well, since you're in denial about wanting a whole chicken and a party pooper about the chickens, it only seems fair.
MK: So we know how you'll celebrate . . . What about me?
BC: You're selfish! "What about me?" Me! Me! Me! Everything's about you!
{Pause}
BC: If you dump out ALL the bows, we can BOTH roll in them . . . as long as my pile is bigger.
MK: And I'm the one that's selfish?
BC: Never mind. You're right. I want all the bows to myself because otherwise you'll be selfish and hog them. 
{Pause}
BC: You can clean out my litter box.
MK: You're SO kind and thoughtful!
BC: Can I get extra treats too?
MK: So who's birthday is it again?
BC: Who said anything about a birthday? I just want to roll in bows and eat extra treats. 
MK: Right. I'll get on that after I clean your litter box and clean up the giant hairball you left next to my desk chair.
BC:  Thank you. You're lucky . .  the hairball almost landed IN your chair!
MK: Thank you for aiming elsewhere.
BC: I didn't! The actual rate of projection didn't match the expected rate of projection. I made a mistake.
MK: Lovely.
BC: Don't say I never give you anything! Even if it was unintentional . . .

If you missed Bear's whole chicken campaign . . . you can find it {HERE}.
Pictures of Bear's bow party . . .


Part 2:
BC: Momma? MooooooooommmmmmMMMa!
MK: Oh no.
BC: Can I at least make you a cake for your birthday?
MK: Let me guess . . . you'll mash a bunch of your fishy flavored wet food together - drench it in gravy - and throw a couple treats on top . . .
BC: You act like that'd be disgusting! That's quality baking right there! You could learn a thing . . . or twenty.
MK: More like quality smooshing and fish smells. 
BC: Don't be ridiculous. If I made a fishy cake, I'd have to eat it . . . for err . . . quality control purposes and to ensure you won't be poisoned.
MK: Quality control people only take a small sample . . . as do tasters . . . not the whole thing.
BC: So you're saying you want a fishy cake?
MK: No.
BC: Fine. Since you don't have any taste. Then I'm make you a boring regular cake.
MK: You just want me to get the stand mixer out . . . don't you?
BC: I don't know what you're talking about!
MK: You love to sit and watch the beaters . . . you're obsessed.
BC: I don't remember this.
MK: And when I stop them, you stick your paws in the bowl and play. Only you whip your paw out after touching the batter because it's wet . . . and you shake your paw . . . so batter goes flying all over the kitchen. Over and over until batter droplets coat everything in the room, except for you. How you manage that is beyond me.
BC: I think you're remembering the wrong cat.
MK: No. It was DEFINITELY you. Kitty was smart enough to stay off the counter . . . because she knew I'd give her a bite or two of whatever I had in appreciation if I didn't have to police the counters.
BC: You never give me a bite or two! I'VE BEEN SCREWED! YOU LOVE KITTY MORE THAN ME! I've been mistreated and unloved and treated as a petty criminal by my own Momma! 
MK: Back up a second. Why did I say I gave Kitty a bite or two?
BC: BECAUSE YOU LOVE HER MORE!
MK: Noooo . . . because I didn't have to protect the entire counter space from counter cruisers and kitty thieves!
BC: But you could have something REALLY tasty on the counter!
MK: And you could have a taste . . . if you stayed off the counter and didn't make me work twice as hard to make dinner because I have to fend you off.
BC: I'm abused! Always blame the victim! Forget it! No cake for you!
MK: Then no stand mixer.
BC: RATS!
MK: Not to mention how much you love dropping your micey in my mugs and bowls of food. I bet if I let you make me a cake, there'd be at least a few micey dropped in . . . which means either mangled micey - like when you dropped one down the garbage disposal . . . or baked-in toy micey.
BC: I try to share them with you!
MK: Oh, really.
BC: Well, no. I guess not. 
MK: You just hope I'm disgusted enough to hand over the bowl or mug to you . . . 
BC: At least a sniff would be nice!
{Pause}
BC: RATS! You always trick me into incriminating myself!
MK: Not really. I already know all the things you do . . . so you don't have to admit to them.
BC: I HATE YOU!
MK: Happy Birthday!
BC: It's MY birthday too?
{Pause while Bear looks around  - puzzling over this}
BC: You were mocking me!
MK: Yes.
BC: I'll stare at you until you feel bad for mocking me . . . 
{Pause}
BC: Do you feel bad yet?
MK: No.
{15 minutes pass}
BC: Do you feel bad yet?
MK: No.
BC: RATS! It's my nap time . . . I'll be back! Prepare to feel bad! Say in fifteen minutes? 
MK: Fifteen minutes? I thought you were taking a nap?
BC: I am. Right. Say 47 years and 33 seconds . . . after my nap I'll want a bite of FAKE food and to use my FOUL facilities . . . to take care of my big boy's business . . . because by then . . . 
MK: BEAR! You're a cat! Not an airplane! I don't need a flight plan!
BC: You're awfully grumpy for it being your birthday!
MK: Bear! I'm just trying to finish our Thanksgiving post . . . and you sitting a foot away and staring at me makes me uncomfortable!
BC: My plot worked! 
{Pause}
BC: Our Thanksgiving post? You mean the one where you go on and on about how thankful you are for me?
MK: I'm thinking of doing some MAJOR editing.
BC: {with narrowed eyes} I HATE YOU! 
{Pause}
BC: Oh. And by the time I come back, get rid of the camera . . . unless you think it floats . . .

Sunday, November 22, 2015

Why Can't We Just Get Along?!?

No matter how loving and sweet-natured the cat, he some times, as a matter of pride, needs to assert his independence and show his human he's not only cute, but tough. And what cat doesn't like secrets and "secret missions?" What happens when, in the course of a secret mission, Bear realizes his mousie isn't a "real" mouse? And he's confronted on his fear of living things? What happens when Bear decides to revolt? Why and how is he revolting? Unfortunately, Bear frustrates his own plots and leaves Momma feeling exasperated as well. With abounding misunderstandings, Bear's "Mr. Tough Pants" attitude, and Momma's frustration . . . enjoy the twists and turns as the fur flies! One might wonder, "WHY CAN'T WE JUST GET ALONG?!?!" Anyone with a cat knows the answer (even though we love our felines dearly and can't imagine life without them) . . .

BC: Bear Cat
MK: Momma Kat

Part 1 - "Real" vs. "fake" micey:
BC: If someone happens to ask for me . . . I'm not here.
MK: Oooooookay.
BC: Don't you want to know why?
MK: Not really. I'll leave you to your own devices.
BC: Oh! So now you don't care! Is that what you're saying?
MK: More like, I don't WANT to know. Which consequently is better for you . . . just in case I'm tortured.
BC: What do I care if you're tortured?
MK: Nice, Bear. I mean that if whomever is looking for you tortures me for information, I won't know anything to tell him, so you'll be safe.
BC: Oh. Do you hide often? You're SMART!
MK: Thanks.
BC: Wait a minute! You don't hide from me, do you?
MK: Don't you have somewhere to be or hide or something?
BC: Oh, right. You always distract me with your nonsense! My mousie should be by any minute. As a reminder . . . I'm not here.
MK: Ummm . . . Bear, your mousie isn't really alive and therefore can't exactly chase you . . . 
BC: WHAT?
MK: Why would you think your micey are "real mice?"
BC: HOW WOULD I KNOW? You call my mousie, mouse, and I've never met another kind of mouse, so how would I know the difference? You mean I'm not a "real" mouser? My whole life is a lie! All along, I thought I was schooling REAL mice . . . but they're just dummies!
MK: You never wondered why they don't eat or poop or reproduce?
BC: Reproduce? What does that mean?
MK: Oh, Bear . . . 
BC: Don't "Oh, Bear" me! I want a real mouse! It's the LEAST you can do . . . to remedy this damage to my self-esteem!
MK: No. You're scared of anything that moves by itself . . . including that little motorized Hexbug I got you . . . if I got you a real mouse, you'd end up under the bed and then what would I do with it?
BC: I HATE YOU!
MK: But I'm right.
BC: I REALLY, REALLY HATE YOU! I'd totally show that mouse what's up!
MK: After I kill it! Just like the ants, you'd probably roll all over the mouse carcass, after I killed the dang mouse myself!
BC: How do you know those ants were dead? Are you an expert on mouse respiration? I was trying to help you by killing them and instead you mock me!
MK: Okay. You want to be ridiculous? Let's suppose the ants were really "alive" . . . how do I know you weren't trying to revive them with CPR by rolling all over them?
BC: Don't be silly. You can't give ants CPR.
MK: You can't kill ants that are already dead!
BC: Poor ants. You have anger issues!
MK: Noooo. I have CAT issues.
BC: No! NO! Don't get near me! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Momma's trying to smash me like a little bug! Bear abuse! She killed the ants when she had "ant issues" and now she's trying to kill the cat because she has "cat issues!"
MK: Bear, I haven't moved from my chair.
BC: I see the murderous look in your eyes!
MK: Probably a reflection of you.
BC: That's right! And don't forget it! No one messes with Bear Cat and gets away with it!
MK: Unless you're a Hexbug, a bird, a squirrel, your own shadow . . . 
BC: I was not afraid of the Hexbug!
MK: Bear, it accidentally trapped you in the corner by the front door and you freaked out and were too scared to even jump over it.
BC: It wasn't "accidentally!" That Hexbug had it out for me!
MK: Bear, it's not alive! It just has sensors at each end so when it senses a wall it goes in the opposite direction. It didn't even know you were there! It was going between the front door and the coat closet door . . . which just happened to cut you off from the rest of the room since you went in the corner to hide.
BC: Oooooooooh! I . . . oughta . . . ummm . . . I . . . I HATE YOU!

Notes:  What's a Hexbug? A little mechanical toy with sensors at each end . . . the Bug goes in one direction, until it senses a wall or obstacle, and then goes in the opposite direction, until the other end senses another obstacle . . . back and forth and so on. Here's a picture to show the relative size of the "beast." Of course, during the photo shoot, Bear had to photobomb because everything's about him . . . as you can see, he's not scared of the Hexbug when it's off . . . 

Part 2 - Revolting:
BC: I'm revolting!
MK: No you're not! You're adorable!
BC: You won't find my revolution adorable when it's in full swing! I just gave you a courtesy warning. You can't tell me I'm not revolting! You aren't the boss of me!
MK: OH! You meant revolting as in rebellion, not revolting as in disgusting!
BC: No. My revolution WILL disgust you!
MK: Okay. I'm just sharing the multiple meanings of revolting.
BC: Believe me, there will be no mistake on the meaning of my revolt!
MK: No, I mean the word has multiple meanings and I confused them!
BC: There will be no confusion about my revolution either - YOU WILL KNOW. You will FEEL the pain!
MK: I'm sure you're right!
BC: NO!
MK: No what?
BC: If we agree, my revolt cannot proceed! You RUIN everything! When's Bear's fun time? 
MK: No, I don't agree on whatever the point of your revolution is . . . I just agree that I'll feel the pain. Oh never mind.
BC: Do we agree or disagree? I'm confused.
MK: We agree. If agreeing means avoiding a revolt.
BC: So you agree that I should have a whole chicken? ROCK ON!
MK: NO! I only said we agree to thwart your revolution . . . if I say I agree, you won't revolt . . . we only really agree that I'll feel the pain of your revolution.
BC: Lies! My revolt will not be suppressed! I will not be tricked out of my fight for a whole chicken! YOU WILL PAY!
MK: Sounds serious! What's your plan?
BC: That is classified information . . . I will use surprise as my weapon!
MK: You don't know what you're going to do, do you? You just wanted to tell me you're revolting and make a bunch of threats.
BC: Did it work? Do I get a whole chicken?
MK: No.
BC: RATS! You tricked me into admitting I don't have a plan!
{Pause}
BC: But I was lying! Of course I have a plan! And you WILL pay! Prepare to pay!
MK: Oh, brother . . .
BC: That's right! You'll be calling in all your evil human reinforcements - including your brother - when you feel my pain!
{Pause}
BC: Can I have some ear rubs while I plot? You can't peek!
MK: Sure.
BC: I love you, Momma.
MK: I love you too, Bear.
BC: But I'm still revolting!
MK: Of course you are.
BC: Am I scary?
MK: Absolutely! I live in fear of The Great Bear Cat!
BC: But I'm cute sometimes too, right?
MK: Yes. Often at the same time as when I "fear" you.
BC: That's what I thought.

The picture that ties it all together . . . when Bear used his "fake" micey to remind Momma he wants a whole chicken . . . his desire for a whole chicken being the whole idea behind his "revolution" (from THIS POST):

Sunday, November 15, 2015

"Conversations" With Bear Cat: Part 13

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, in extended "conversations" deserving of their own blog posts, we discussed: Halloween, mixed movie references, and chaos {HERE} and "The Case of the Annoyingly Loving Momma" {HERE}.  


The other blog post in this cycle, if you missed it, enumerated all the times when loving Bear leaves Momma Kat feeling woefully inadequate {HERE}.

See the previous collections of shorter "conversations," like the ones posted below, {HERE}{HERE}{HERE}{HERE}{HERE}{HERE}{HERE}{HERE}{HERE}{HERE}{HERE}, and {HERE}.

Here's the collection of shorter dialogues from the past few weeks (previously posted to Momma Kat's Facebook page):

BC: Bear Cat
MK: Momma Kat


On sadness remedies:
BC: Momma? What's wrong?
MK: I'm just kind of sad.
BC: Why?
MK: I'm not sure . . . sometimes it just happens.
BC: I get sad sometimes too . . . like when my friends leave or when all my fishy is gone. Maybe you could shred some furniture or carpet? Or roll in something kind of stinky? Both of those make me feel better.
MK: I don't think so.
BC: Would you like to snuggle with string? That ALWAYS makes me feel better.
MK: Do snuggles with string come with snuggles with you? Because I think I need snuggles with my favorite kitty.
BC: Okay. I like snuggles with my Momma. I might break a lot of stuff, but I fix everything.
MK: Yes, you do. I love you, Bear.
BC: I love you, Momma. Snuggling with you is better than rolling in stinky stuff . . .
MK: Thank you . . . I think.
BC: . . . usually.
MK: Lovely.


On "new" toys:
BC: MooooooooommmmmMMA! We can't stop plaaaaaaaaaying!
MK: Bear, we've been at it for over a half hour . . . I need a break and you look like you're about to keel over!
BC: It wasn't an ENTIRE half hour! You stopped for an HOUR to fix the toy when it broke after 5 minutes!
MK: Well, it would have taken less than an "hour" to fix had you not stolen the pieces as I was trying to put it back together.
BC: But I was exciiiiiiiiiiiiited! New toys! New toys! New toys! And we haven't played for daaaaaaaaayssss! And I was all alone during the day yesterday!
MK: And the bonanza of "new" toys tonight didn't make you feel any better about that?
BC: Maybe if we keep playing?
MK: Bear, Momma's exhausted. The only reason you got the "new" toys is because I've spent the last few days helping Grandpa clean out his basement and I found a bunch of Kitty's old toys. I need some time to relax.
BC: OH! So the toys are just leftovers from Kitty! You didn't even really get them for me! I deserve new toys just for me!
MK: You couldn't seem to tell . . . in fact, I don't think I've ever seen you play that hard, for that long, with ANYTHING.
BC: Well, that's before I knew it was a leftover!
MK: So you don't want to play anymore? Thank goodness!
BC: I DIDN'T SAY THAT!
MK: If we keep playing, you have to let me take pictures of you playing.
BC: One picture and you'll never find your camera again!
MK: Too bad.
BC: Bear doesn't negotiate! Especially with non-furry terrorists!
{Pause}
BC: Can we play?
MK: No.
BC: How about I let you take a picture?
MK: I thought you didn't negotiate?
BC: I don't. RATS!
{15 minutes pass}
BC: Momma! I just had an awesome idea! How about we play? And while we do, can you take a picture of me to document my cuteness!
MK: Beeeeeaaaaaarrrr!
BC: It's not my fault you're lazy!


On Momma Kat getting old:
BC: Food, FOOD, FOOD! Bear's food time! Oh, yummy in my Bear tummy! Hurry up! No! Don't stop!
MK: Give me a second to stretch my legs . . . I'm all stiff after sitting at the computer for a few hours.
BC: This wouldn't have happened if you'd played with me as I asked, instead of working! I TOLD YOU! But NOOOOOOOO, you never listen to me!
MK: I think I'm getting old. Is Momma getting old?
BC: Is that a trick question?
MK: Well, no, not really . . .
BC: Yes.
MK: Yes, what?
BC: YOU'RE GETTING OLD!
MK: Thanks, Bear. My asking was a rhetorical question.
BC: Glad to help.
{Pause}
BC: Oh. You were being sarcastic. I knew that!


On punctuation:
The punctuation wars . . . because what cat doesn't love an argument?!?! Argument being relative of course . . . because the cat always wins . . . and not due to his argumentative capability . . .
{Momma stares at Bear lounging on the couch}
MK: Is there room for me here?
BC: No.
{Pause}
BC: Wait! What?!?!?! I said, "NO!" NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!!!
BC: You're a mean Momma! I hate you! Bear does not share!!!
BC: Why did you even ask if you were just going to be selfish and plop down anyway?
MK: It was a warning of my plopping, not a question.
BC: Then why the question mark?
MK: I don't know?
BC: There's an English teacher around here who failed you miserably! Look at the crap I have to put up with!
MK: You poor, POOR kitty!
BC: I used an exclamation point - NOT a question mark.
MK: You can share.
BC: My ability to share should have been a question mark!
MK: Excuse ME?
BC: ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRG! Exclamation point! You're excused.
{Pause}
BC: And do you REALLY have to take pictures too?!?! I like people to admire me, but I feel like I live with a flock of paparazzi. Ten pictures of me in the same position is enough! Especially since I'm ALWAYS this cute.



On butt-licking:
MK: REALLY!?!?! I get up to go to the bathroom and come back to find you in my chair licking your butt?
BC: Like your butt never needs cleaning!
MK: {a defeated sigh} That isn't the problem and you know it. Never mind. Just pretend I didn't say anything.
BC: Don't I always?
MK: {another defeated sigh}


On boxes (part 1):
MK: Bear, why don't you at least TRY the box I set out?
BC: No.
MK: I made it extra cozy with blankets . . .
BC: No. You can't lure me into your contraption of evil.
MK: It's a box! With blankets! I keep thinking you're losing some essential experience of a happy cathood by not enjoying boxes!
BC: You're the expert on a happy cathood?
MK: But, CATS LOVE BOXES! I don't get it!
BC: You're the expert on cats now too?
MK: Well, no. But at least TRY the box. Here . . . I'll just leave it out for a week or so . . . and maybe you'll try it and like it.
BC: I doubt it. It's right next to your desk chair and you know how I like laying on your chair.
MK: I KNOW! Another reason to try the box!
BC: Another reason why I won't touch the box!
{Picture from Day Four - which is actually an improvement because for the first three days, Bear wouldn't go near the box}


On boxes (part 2):

MK: SERIOUSLY?!?!
BC: La la la de da . . . de da. La la la de da.
MK: I got up for a drink. You're in my chair.
BC: La la la de da . . . de da. OH! So I am. Fancy that. La la la de da.
MK: The box I set up for you is a foot away . . . per chance, would you like to try it?
BC: Per chance . . . NO! It's been there for two weeks and NO!
MK: How about this box? It's slightly bigger, yet the sides are low enough so you don't feel confined. New blankets!
BC: No.
MK: {Momma deflates} Oh.
BC: No.
MK: Fine. You'll have to share.
BC: NOOOOOOOOOOO! Bear does not share! I was here first! This is against the Geneva Cat Convention! Every law of feline courtesy! I've been screwed! I'm insulted! Offended! I'll . . . oh, fine. Steal the chair from your sweet, cute, little kitty cat. There's a cold, hard floor somewhere that wants me . . .
MK: Or your cozy cat tree . . . or any of the couches and beds . . . or your new box . . . or we can share the chair . . . .
BC: {Nesting on the top perch of the cozy cat tree} I HATE YOU!
MK: Right. Tell me again in five minutes.
{Five minutes pass}
BC: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ. {SNORE} ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ. {SNORE} ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.


On boxes (part 3):
BC: Momma? MommmmMA!?!?
MK: What's wrong, Bear?
BC: Why are you staring at that box?
MK: I brought it home from the store today, and I'm trying to figure out how to keep you out of it.
BC: But I don't like bo . . . WAAAAAAIT! You're doing some reverse psychology thing, aren't you?!?! You think if you tell me that you don't want me in the box, that I'll try it! Haha. I'm not THAT stupid!
{Pause}
BC: I'll at least wait until you're asleep . . . so you won't know for sure whether I've used it or not . . . {mumbling to himself} . . . good thing she uses an alarm . . .
Notes: At first, Bear didn't seem any more interested in the third box . . .
A week later, he at least TRIED the box . . . long enough to clean himself anyway . . . and Momma was bubbling over with excitement!


On moving Bear's stuff:
BC: MommmmmmmMA! Why did you moooooooooove my food bowl?!?!
MK: Because my brother is coming to stay with us for a few days and your food area would be closed off to you if he wanted privacy and closed the door. I figured you have a few days to get used to it.
BC: AS IF! Like I could not know where my food bowl is! You're the one who's almost run over me twice while I've been nomming! I was just minding my own business and filling my tummy and you almost stepped on me! TWICE! In a row!
MK: Well, yes, I have to get used to the new spot too. I never realized how out in the open it was before.
BC: Oh, so my stuff gets moved around to wherever it's not in your way? Great, I feel so loved. MARGINALIZED in my own home! Next thing you know, my cat tree, litter box and food bowl will be in the closet so they're "out of the way" and I don't "disturb" you!
MK: Would you have preferred to not have access to your food?
BC: But whhhhhhhhyyyyyy? You're always moving my stuff around!
MK: I'm NOT! If you'll remember, I only moved it 6 months ago to the now "old" spot because somehow ants found their way in to your bowl. As soon as I moved your bowl down the hall, they went away. And you didn't exactly help with them either.
BC: What do you mean!?!?! I rolled over like 100 of them, squashing them!
MK: Bear, I'd already squashed them . . . they were dead. And no, I was not amused that I came back with the vacuum to find you rolling around in my dead ant pile.
BC: I was celebrating my victory!
MK: Over DEAD ANTS! They were ALREADY DEAD!
BC: Oh, for someone like you, how could you ever understand triumph!
MK: You are so superior! You're right! How could I ever understand being the awesomeness that is you!
BC: Obviously. Wait!?!? Why are you smiling?!?!? My superiority is not humorous! I should see FEAR in your face!
{Pause}
BC: Wait a minute . . . YOU'RE MOCKING ME!
{Pause}
BC: I HATE YOU!!!
You can find the original ant-related post {HERE}.


On "appreciation nuggets:"
MK: Bear, I appreciate you not trying to escape while I carried in the groceries. Do you want some appreciation nuggets?
BC: Some wha . . . . TREATS! You got the treat bag out! Treats! Treats! TREATS! Ooooh! Bear gets TREATS! Oh, HAPPY DAY! Nommy in my tummy! Tummy nommy! Yum. Yum. YUM! Keep dumping! Keep dumping! Oh, YUM!!
MK: I appreciate you, Bear!
BC: Nomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnom.
{Pause}
BC: Wait! If they're "appreciation nuggets," does that mean that when you don't give them to me, you don't appreciate me?
MK: No. I appreciate you all the time.
BC: Then why don't you give me the "appreciation nuggets" all the time?
MK: I don't . . . umm . . . I was just being weird - I didn't really mean it literally.
BC: So you weren't being rational?
MK: Ummm . . . I guess not. I was just errr . . . WHY CAN'T YOU JUST ENJOY THE TREATS?!?!?
BC: I did. I just didn't understand your "appreciation nugget" comment . . . but you being weird and not making sense . . . THAT I understand.
MK: Great.
BC: Can I have more "appreciation nuggets?"
MK: No.
BC: Oh! So now you don't appreciate me? 
BC: I HATE YOU!
MK: Lucky me.


On Viagra:
BC: Momma?
MK: Yes, Love Bug?
BC: What's Viagra?
MK: Been in my spam mailbox again? You know you're grounded from the internet!
BC: No. I saw it . . . errrr . . . in your medicine cabinet.
MK: Oh, really.
BC: Yep! Sitting right there on the shelf!
MK: It's to help males have kittens.
BC: But you're not male . . . Oh, crap!
{Pause}
BC: SO THEN WHY WAS IT IN YOUR MEDICINE CABINET?!?!
MK: Uh-huh. Why don't you show me where.
BC: I bet you've concealed all the evidence!
MK: Right. Because I knew ahead of time you were going to ask.
BC: OBVIOUSLY! I bet you did one of your evil human tricks to hijack my thoughts! You like to make me look stupid!
MK: You do that all on your own.
BC: I hate you!
{Pause}
BC: Do I need Viagra?
MK: Oh for the love of . . . . NO. NO. And NO!
BC: But I want to be able to go around and say I'm the daddy!
MK: Just like when you wanted to be a cat rapper?
BC: I didn't think the whole thing through . . . before I announced myself as a "crapper" that "dropped more than beats!"
MK: Humans learn lessons from their past mistakes.
BC: Cats get it right the first time . . . usually. Cats don't make mistakes. Ummmm . . . usually.
MK: Not in this house.
BC: I REALLY, REALLY HATE YOU!
Why did Bear lose his internet privileges? Find out {HERE}.


On nicknames and chickens:
BC: Momma?
MK: What's up, Fuzzlebutt?
BC: Do you really have to keep making up nicknames for me?
MK: It's a way of showing my affection . . .
BC: . . .that's embarrassing!
MK: No Fuzzlebutt?
BC: And no Fuzzbutt, Chirpy Cat, Big Boy, Snugglebutt, Snugglepuss, Snugglebug, SnugButt, SnugBug . . .
MK: What did you want to tell me, Bear?
BC: Did you know the chicken is the closest living relative to the Tyrannosaurus Rex?
MK: Yes.
BC: Is that why you won't let me have a whole chicken? You're scared?
MK: No. I can't see any alternative that would work for you.
1) If the chicken isn't alive and IS in one piece . . . you'll expect me to deal with it because you have no clue.
2) If the chicken isn't alive and IS "cleaned" . . . you'll just lick the meat instead of actually EATING it.
3) If the chicken IS alive . . . you'll hide under the bed until I take care of it. And you won't share your stuff with a chicken - and you'll get mad at ME from UNDER THE BED if it messes with any of your stuff - because you'll be too scared to deal with it yourself.
BC: I HATE YOU!!!
MK: So I take it we agree.
BC: I REALLY, REALLY HATE YOU!
MK: Yes, well, thank reality.
BC: No. Just you.
MK: Just because you don't like something doesn't mean it's MY FAULT!
BC: EVERYTHING I don't like is your fault.
MK: I see.
For more on the whole chicken campaign, see {HERE}.


On Momma being sick and tired:
BC: Don't even think about it. The chair is mine and I'm preparing for a nap. Don't be selfish and expect to share.
MK: OK. I'm not.
BC: What?!?!
MK: I don't want the chair. I think I'm sick: I'm going to lay on the couch and hopefully get a nap.
BC: I hate you!
MK: But . . . you get the chair?!?! Isn't that what you want?
BC: Not if you don't! And I've already done my pre-nap preparations!
MK: You still have a few minutes to ensconce yourself on the couch before I get there.
BC: Obviously.
{Five minutes pass}
BC: I'm waiting for you! Where ARE you?!?! Momma? MoooommmMMMA! Wait . . . What?!?!? You're in my bed?!?!? YOU TRICKED ME! YOU'RE SELFISH! I HATE YOU! And you didn't even wait for me! Wake up! WAKE UP!!! YOU HAVE TO PET ME!
MK: Wha? Sniff, sniff. Eh . . . {Momma snores lightly}.
BC: This is wrong! I require loves! RIGHT NOW! I'VE BEEN SCREWED! Mistreated! I won't stand for this! MommmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmMMMA! You're not waking up even though I'm jumping on you repeatedly! Hey! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Holy crap. Now THAT'S tired! Maybe in fifteen minutes . . . RATS! BEAR DOESN'T WAIT!


On Momma being sick (part 1):
MK: Ohhhhhh . . . uhhhhhhh . . . owwwww . . .
BC: What's wrong with you?
MK: I'm sick!
BC: WHAT?!?!? You never tell me anything!
MK: Bear, why do you think I've spent the last three days in bed . . . not even eating or getting the mail . . . or showering?
BC: I thought you missed me so much after being gone for a few days that you declared uninterrupted Bear snuggle time! Hmph. Apparently, I'm not important enough to miss.
MK: Of course I missed you!
BC: But you've feed me my wet food treat the past few days . . .
MK: Because I didn't want to be a kitty trampoline while I tried to sleep!
BC: So that's why you dished it out while sitting on the floor? I thought you were saving me the trouble of jumping on the counter!
MK: Not everything is about you.
BC: Whatever. By the way, my litter box is looking and smelling kind of gnarly.
MK: Right. I'll get on that somewhere between hacking up a lung and dying.
BC: Just so you know . . . YOU'RE SELFISH!
{Pause}
BC: Wait! Did you say "dying?" Have you changed your will to properly reflect the ownership of my assets?
MK: No chicken farm.
BC: I HATE YOU!


On Momma being sick (part 2):
BC: The feedback for this play session is "VERY DISSATISFIED!"
MK: We weren't playing!
BC: But, I WANT TO PLAY!!!
MK: Bear, I'm so sick I can't even get a shower . . . I can't play with you - as much as I want to!
BC: No wonder my prey only had two speeds: zero and "arthritic turtle."
MK: Yet it didn't stop you from mauling the backs of my legs . . . before you lost interest.
BC: So you're saying you fear my ruthless and vicious nature? Because "arthritic turtle" doesn't exactly translate to "I fear you!"
MK: Sure. And it kind of does when Momma can't move faster than that without falling over.
BC: I thought so! Can we play now?


On Bear's hairball advice:
MK: HACK, HACK, COUGH . . . COUGH, COUGH . . .
BC: Momma, are you okay?
MK: Yeah, yeah. Fantastic.
BC: Do you have a hairball?
MK: Well, no . . . not exactly . . .
BC: . . . Because whenever I have a stubborn hairball, I find one of your favorite things and the sucker comes unstuck.
MK: Wait . . . WHAT!?!?!?
BC: You thought those were accidents?
MK: Bear!
BC: He-he-ha-ha-ha. You'll never know!
MK: BEAR! Get back here!
BC: Giggle, giggle, giggle, SNORT, giggle. You stopped coughing! AND you can't ground me, because I'm ALREADY grounded! Te-he-he!


On Bear's yearly wellness visit to the vet:
BC: I'm offended.
{Silence}
BC: MoooommmmMA! Did you hear me? I'M OFFENDED!
MK: And this is new?
BC: Aren't you going to ask me why?
MK: No.
BC: On the back of this postcard we got from the vet, it says, "Your cat, Bear." "Your" implying ownership of Bear. You don't own me!
MK: Bear, it's a standard postcard with just your name typed in.
BC: So you mean all cats who own their people get this?
MK: From our vet - yes.
BC: I demand we switch vets!
MK: No.
BC: I don't feel safe going to a vet that doesn't recognize my superiority and power. And ownership! I OWN YOU!
MK: Even if I decided to find you a new vet - you'd still have to go.
BC: But with your meticulousness and difficulty making decisions, surely it would take a few months for you to find and decide on a new vet . . . Right?
MK: You still have to go.
BC: Rats! I'm the only cat whose Momma gets sick, yet makes the cat go to the vet.
MK: It's your yearly check-up . . . thus the postcard.
BC: I HATE YOU!