The Queen Of Mean Has Cold Feet

We have snow – a good 6 inches of the stuff.  And considering where Denmark is on the planet, you might be surprised to know that The Viking hates snow and cold with a passion.  The kind of passion that makes him shout and curse and grumble.  Except when he has a snowmobile under his ass and then he’s as close to giddy as he is capable of being.  And I am giddy when he has a snowmobile under his ass because it means he has journeyed to the mountains, leaving me at home in absolute bliss and solitude.

However, as much as The Viking hates snow, there are two other individuals living in the household who hate it more.  Teddy was rescued in the middle of winter when he was about 10 months old, cold and starving.  So, he isn’t a fan of an empty food bowl or snow and cold.  He manages to amuse himself though, running through the house and playing with a squeaky toy and napping and coming for a quick love every once in a while.  He takes short forays outside but it isn’t long before he’s back inside.

Izzie, on the other hand, is pissed-the-fuck-off!  If you’ve visited here more than just a few times you will know a lot about Izzie.  She’s a monster; a beautiful, biting, clawing, hissing, spitting monster.  She learned the basics of civilized cat behavior from Mim’s cats (my daughter) and then Teddy keeps her fairly calm but all bets are off if something isn’t right in her corner of the world.

And there’s snow and the cold in her corner of the world right now.  She has stuff going on and being cold blows her schedule all to hell.  Who’s supposed to mock and name-call the neighborhood cats?  The dogs across the alley will be unmanageable if she doesn’t bully them daily.  And Peter isn’t going to break into his own house and bellow at the door to be let out.  And what about Charlie?  Who’s going to chase him away if her feet fall off?  What about her ears?  Frostbite can make the tips fall off and then she’ll have square ears!  It’s pretty hard to be beautiful if your ears are square!

And then there is the weight issue!  Laying around the house all day slows the metabolism and pretty soon she’ll have a belly like Teddy’s!  And she’s already getting bored with chasing him around the house as the only form of exercise.

With the snow, her existence has gone all to hell.  Her feet got cold and three snowflakes dared to land on her back.  She bellowed at the door and demanded to know exactly what the fuck is going on?!  She stood in front of me scowling and indignant.  I told her that I had nothing to do with it but she’s refusing to believe me.

Her vocabulary is devolving into hair-raising insults and if her scowl deepens any further it will look like I hit her with an axe.  And that might actually end up happening because the forecast is calling for cold temperatures for the next several days.

It’s going to be a long, long, long winter.  Sigh.  When the Queen of Mean gets cold feet it’s only good sense to step lightly.

PS:  To add insult to injury, Daylight Savings Time screwed her over for an entire hour.  I gave up after 45 minutes and fed her and Teddy.  It was either that or say good-bye to what little self-esteem I have left.

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I’m Not Needy, I’m Demanding!

Teddy:  So.  You’re grounded, huh?

Izzie:  It won’t last long.  They can’t maintain their angst when I pour on the charm.

Teddy:  The Viking seems pretty determined.

Izzie:  Yes, but Mom runs out of patience after a while.

Teddy:  I guess, but why don’t you just come home at bed time like I do?

Izzie:  Because I like the night.  There’s less traffic and fewer people to yell at me to stop pooping in their flower beds.  And, it’s kind of peaceful.

Teddy:  Peaceful?  You are the least peaceful cat I’ve ever met and I lived on the street for nearly a year.

Izzie:  I’m peaceful when I want to be.

Teddy:  Nope.  The only time you are peaceful is when you are drugged.

Izzie:  Whatever.  I like myself unconditionally.  Dr. Phil says that’s what well-adjusted persons aspire too.

Teddy:  Pfft!  You don’t even watch Dr. Phil.  You’re too busy being cranky and needy.

Izzie:  I’m not needy!  I’m demanding!

Teddy:  Well, you’re that too, but still needy.  And what was up with you slapping Mom last night?

Izzie:  She had that coming!  She wouldn’t let me out!  And I didn’t use my claws this time, for your information.

Teddy:  And you thought slapping her would get her to open the door?

Izzie:  I thought that once she understood the true depth of my desire to get outside, she would let me out.

Teddy:  Yeah.  How did that work for you?

Izzie:  You didn’t have to take her side, Momma’s Boy!  You are a cat, and cats are supposed to support cats.

Teddy:  All I did was reiterate…….again……that I don’t want you slapping Mom.  Or The Viking, for that matter.  How many times do I have to tell you this?

Izzie:  You’re still a loser for siding with Mom.  I won’t be leaving you my leftovers anymore.

Teddy:  You haven’t left me food for months.

Izzie:  By the way, why did you show Charlie how to get down from the garage roof?  I was enjoying his pitiful whining.

Teddy:  What is it with you?  You’re always slapping people and hissing at other cats and knocking hats off the customers.  Would it kill you to be nice?

Izzie:  As a matter of fact, yes.  It might kill me.  Germs spread with contact.  And, I like everyone as long as they don’t touch me, don’t talk to me, don’t look at me and don’t bring other cats around.

Teddy:  Charlie isn’t that bad.  He is a bit overly friendly but I think it’s because he’s trying really hard to fit in.

Izzie:  Charlie is an idiot.

Teddy:  Wouldn’t it be nice to have a friend?

Izzie:  I have a friend.

Teddy:  And who would that be?

Izzie:  You, Stupid!

Teddy:  Really?  You’re my friend?  That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me!

Izzie:  And then you had to ruin it!  And no, I’m not your friend.  You are my friend.  I’m not a friend kind of cat – too many responsibilities.

Teddy:  I don’t even know what you’re talking about now.

Izzie:  When you’re a friend, you have to be supportive and kind and give them things and when they do something nice for you, you have to do something nice for them.  And I don’t do nice things for anyone, therefore, I’m not your friend.  You, though, are my friend and it’s your responsibility to be supportive of my causes and be kind to me and do nice things for me.  Like getting someone to open the damned door!

Teddy:  I should have seen that coming but for some reason I just didn’t.  I’m going to play with my squeaky mouse.

 

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Pains In My Ass

Izzie woke me up this morning – she started the exercise by dancing a German Polka on my stomach and ended with a sharp, single claw stab through the soft tissue in my armpit.  “OW!!  FUCK!”  In between those two events were whispered threats of the dire consequences should I not get out of bed and a fairly lengthy litany of curses.

I muttered a few curses of my own as I stumbled to the bathroom for my morning pee.  Izzie took a position on top of the vanity where she began poking my left cheek with increasing insistence while Teddy swarmed around my panties, purring and feathering my inner thighs with his tail.

“Teddy, I have paperwork to do – get out of my panties.  Gawd!  Quit poking me Izzie!  Geezus!  Teddy!  You’re not helping!  For fucksakes!  STOP POKING ME!!”

They want out, of course.  I slept in a bit and she’s late for her Queendom Inspection where she’ll be handing out Stink Eyes and slaps to anyone or thing that happens to get in her way.  She’ll belittle the two Labradors on the other side of the alley, the orange cat down the block will be mocked and she’ll stop to extensively cuss out Charlie next door just to set a precedent since he’s new to the neighbourhood.  And Teddy, bless his kind-of-dumb but sweet soul, will most likely follow behind at a safe distance apologizing.

When she returns from her reconnaissance she bellows for admittance into the house and then demands prolonged loves.  It was at that point this morning that I started to wonder why the fuck I even have pets?  Honestly, they annoy the hell out of me.

Over the years I’ve had quite a few pets and they have all been a nuisance in one way or another.  Dogs are needy and smelly and dirty and you have to pick up all the poo that is never in one convenient location but spread around the yard like Turdstools.

Birds…..well who really wants squawking, shitting, molting pets that fly around the house if they happen to get out of their cage.  I have enough problems without trying to catch a damned bird with a fish net.

Fish.  I had one of those Siamese fighting fish once which actually was fine.  I would say “Good morning” and wiggle my head back and forth and Norman would swim over and wiggle his head back and forth.  I really liked him; he lived in a small and pretty tank that was easy to clean and the fish food was cheap.  Unfortunately, Norman only lived for about a year and Norman 2.0 only made it 6 months.  I asked for a young fish next time but Norman 3.0 only lived for a couple of months so I gave it all up.  Fuck fish!

Hamsters.  Well I didn’t mind the one hamster I had.  Tubbs was a goofy and chubby little thing and was only awake during the night.  I accidentally killed him because I wanted to find a little house for him and when I couldn’t find what I wanted in the pet stores I decided to make one with a relish jar, fake jewels and spray paint.  RIP Tubbs (I think either the fumes killed him or he chipped the paint off the jar).  Tubbs 2.0 wasn’t nearly as sweet as Tubbs 1.0 and he bit me, the little fuck.  I gave him away to a friend – good riddance.

Cats!  I’ve had a few over the years and the only one I ever liked was the one I got strictly for the kids.  Guess who she ended up loving the most though?  Maggie was a great cat; she was sweet and clean and we didn’t bother each other except for the odd conversation.  She developed Kidney Disease though and I had to put her down.

Three years later I kind of wanted another cat.  Idiot.  Izzie was adorable but her personality turned out to be somewhere between Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Freddy Krueger.  It was a blood bath for nearly a year.  I have scars.  The Viking has scars.  Seriously.  Scars.

We finally convinced her to stop trying to kill us but she’s still loud and belligerent and she shouts curses at us and stares at us like we’ve tragically disappointed her..  Thank Gawd for Teddy who, despite his sweetness, manages to put up with her shit and curtails the worst of her homicidal tendencies.

And she’s a sneaky little shit, too!  She looks all sweet and love-y and approaches like she would welcome a chin scratch and just when you fall for it and put your hand out……SA-LAP!!……and she walks away laughing while you are cradling your severed hand to your chest.

All of this brings me back to my initial question of ‘Why the fuck I even have pets?’  I suppose it’s a moot point because there is no going back; we can’t get rid of them now.  Despite all the apologies we have to make we love Izzie.  And Teddy…..well, who wouldn’t like Teddy?  We’ve had to frisk people to be certain they don’t take him home with them.  It’s a package deal, people!  You take Teddy, you have to take Izzie too!

So, my giant pains in the ass won’t be going anywhere anytime soon.  Sigh.

Izzie – It’s Mine Now!

The Viking is always getting visitors.  They drop shit off and pick shit up and they all make me happy when they leave.  I don’t like people invading my yard any more than I like other cats invading my yard but if they really feel the need to stop by the least they can do is leave their truck door open, or a window at a bare minimum.  I’m short, you know, and getting into your vehicle isn’t always easy.

I bring this up now because I found the perfect Izzie-mobile.  Lucky for me, the guy I am stealing it from spent a good amount of time talking with The Viking so I could do a long and thorough inspection.  That’s the most important thing about getting a new vehicle – check it over carefully.

I like the color.  It’s not pink but it’s attractive nonetheless.

That seat belt is a little high.

It has a rack to carry my litter box and cat tree – unlike that monstrosity The Viking drives.

Lots of leg room for my people.

Plenty of cargo space for my toys and food.

The side mirrors are in good order – I just need to reset them for my height.

Methinks I’m going to need a Booster Seat.

Hey!  You!  Hand over the keys so I can take it out for a test drive.

And then, in what I can only call a complete breakdown in communication, the guy takes the truck away!!  What the hell were you thinking, Viking?!  I wanted it and you just let him drive it away?

I was just getting over your betrayal with the neighbor’s cat and then you pull this shit?!  How hard could it be to just put the guy on a bus?

What?!  I’m not allowed to have a truck now?  Is that what you’re saying to me?

Where’s Mom?!  She’ll let me have a truck.  Just you wait and see!

I put up with a lot of crap around here.  Mim brings her damn cats here all the time and you won’t leave the water running so I can drink when I want and Teddy eats my food.  You even tried to make me wear a sweater!  I don’t do sweaters!

Look at me when I’m giving you the Stink Eye!  If I had poo right now I would fling it at you.

Someone had better get that Treat Jug out.

I don’t know why I even put up with you.  There seems to be no end to the atrocities.  I’m calling PETA!  Black Lives Matter, you know!

You think I’m going to ‘sit pretty’ anymore?  I don’t bloody think so!  I’m going for a nap and there had better be zero noise!  You hear me?  ZERO!

 

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Izzie – Hell In A Hand Basket

Well, shit just went right off the rails and I’m not happy about it!  A cat’s house is supposed to be her castle.  Everyone knows you don’t just let any Tom, Dick or Harry into the castle.  Just ask Rapunzel.  That’s a universal law, isn’t it?  As a matter of fact, I think the 10 Commandments covered this situation – ‘Thou shalt Not Covet Thy Neighbor’s Cat’.

And what did I find when I came home after my morning tour of the Neighborhood?  A cat!  Even worse – The Viking petting the cat!!  Not cool, man!

And then Teddy showed up and he was like “Hey!  A cat!  What does his ass smell like?”

Am I in Bizzaro World?  Has everyone lost their damned minds?  We don’t need anymore cats!  I am more than enough for any one household.  Don’t I give you enough loves?  Don’t I sleep in bed with you?  Don’t I eat enough?

Of course I’m enough for you.  I accepted Teddy – reluctantly, yes – but I draw the line at any more cats.  This is my claw-mark in the sand!

If you prick us, do we not bleed?  If you tickle us, do we not laugh?  If you poison us, do we not die?  And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?

I cursed Teddy for the Traitor he is.  Instead of standing in solidarity with me, he watched the One Cat Show.  It was pathetic, really.  It rolled around and around on the cement like a man-hussy!  No one needs to see such a ridiculous display to get more attention.  I levelled a couple of insults in his direction but he’s as receptive as Teddy to sarcasm, which is to say I’m wasting my talents on them.

It turns out that this interloper is called Charlie; The Viking checked the tag on his collar.

At one point he even tried to walk into the damned house!  Luckily Mom blocked the way.  The Viking is dead to me now, but at least Mom kept her integrity.  She didn’t fall for this disgusting display of blatant slut-iness.

Apparently his owners moved into the house next door despite my wishes to the contrary.  So he’ll be hanging around like a bad smell.  And I suppose Teddy will befriend it because that’s what Teddy does.  He’ll fall for anything if there’s a chin scratch involved.

Later, The Viking came in the house and tried to give me loves.  “Not today, Traitor!”  You’re unclean now.  This whole place has gone to hell in a hand basket!

What’s next?  Sleepovers?  Birthday parties?  Split holidays – one year at the neighbour’s one year with us?  Sweet Geezus!! What if they dress us up in matching costumes and parade us around the block?  Hallowe’en is coming, after all.  Gawd!

Well, there’s one cat here that won’t be taking part in any of that tomcatfoolery!  I have dignity.  I’m a lady!  

And why am I the one who has to monitor these things?  Isn’t there like a Feline Occupancy Law regarding how many cats are allowed in any one neighborhood?  The next time I see a By-Law Enforcement Officer, I’m going to lodge a firm and articulate complaint.

In the meantime, I will be watching The Viking very carefully to make sure he doesn’t get too attached to Charlie.

 

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Izzie – Grow Some Balls, Already!

I have a new collar.  Finally.  Mom took her sweet time replacing my Pearls.  Okay, maybe I’m being too harsh with Mom; maybe the fault belongs more with the 2 dogs across the alley.  Specifically, with the Owner of those dogs because he’s the genius that built a fence with the chain link that broke my Pearls.

And don’t think I had the choice not to bully the dogs.  Of course I had to bully them.  They are dogs!  Yappy dogs!  The kind of dogs that spend the entire day barking and barking, like they need constant assurance from humans.  That gets on my nerves!  I want to take a walk down the alley and Sweet Geezus!!  All hell breaks loose!

“OH MY GAWD!  Bark, bark, bark!  THERE’S A CAT!  A CAT!!!  HELP!  Bark, bark, bark.  SOMEONE SAVE ME!  OH GEEZ!!  IT LOOKED AT ME!  Bark, bark, bark!  HOLY SHIT IT’S COMING CLOSER!!”

Every damned time I walk in the alley!

And it’s not like they are little dogs either.  These are great big Labradors and I only weigh like 8 pounds.  It’s not like I could actually kill them.  Teddy and I sat in the middle of the alley last week, watching them run around their yard in a total panic, barking frantically.  Honestly, we were literally just sitting there, chatting between ourselves.

So I went in their yard to try and have a civilized conversation and come to a reasonable understanding about the barking.  It didn’t go well because the brown one started pissing everywhere!  I started to get a little verbally abusive and the barking escalated and I called the blonde one a “useless waste of fur” and then the Owner came out and I had to make a quick getaway.  Unfortunately, my beautiful pearls caught on the chain link and I was naked, streaking across the alley and back home.  I shouted a few expletives over my shoulder as I went, though.

So, how can I not bully them?  If they were barking death threats at me I would have at least a little respect for them, but the frenzy of fear is just pathetic.  Grow some balls, already!

But now, happily, I have a new collar.  Pink and clear beads.  It’s not Pearls but I suppose Mom did the best she could.  Maybe next time she’ll find Pearls – they are my favorite after all.

Mom tried to get a picture of me with my new bling but that didn’t work out for her very well.  She finally stripped them off me and took a picture of them.  What can I say?  I don’t like getting my picture taken.

If you care, please share.  To Facebook, Instagram, wherever.  I might get my Pearls faster.