This is a rant. Because I’m feeling ranty.
Apparently, I’m not allowed to bite! It’s a stupid rule and I am resisting the orchestrated suppression of my biting rights as a Feline. What did they think I was?! A sock puppet?! Cats bite! And it’s not my fault if they didn’t do their research. It’s not as though I bite them all the time, either – 3 to 4 times a day, max. I get excited when we play “There’s a Monster Under the Covers on the Bed!” and when I get excited I can’t help myself – it just happens! It’s not like I plan it. Stop being sissies! But instead of getting tough, they decide to stop playing “There’s a Monster Under the Covers on the Bed!” altogether. Where’s the logic in that?! How can I learn not to bite if I can’t play any biting games to learn from?
And that’s not the only cat thing they are trying to make me stop and I’m now wondering if this is the home for me! The Missus objected -loudly – when I jumped on her back. I only wanted to watch her make coffee – from her shoulder. I am a ca-at and that’s what we do! Sure, I’ll admit that maybe my aim wasn’t completely perfect so I did have to use the claws to get my balance but did she really think it was necessary to spin around so I fell and then yell at me for 10 whole seconds? Honestly, I quit listening after 5.
I’ve been banished from the bathroom as well, and that really chaps my ass! The toilet is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen. I slap the water and shake my paws and water flies around the room like wet little diamonds. It’s fucking fascinating and so what if the Missus has to wipe the seat before she sits? Isn’t my development as a feline more important than the occasional wet ass in the middle of the night? Be reasonable.
Also, I guess I’m not supposed to play with the toilet paper either. I have one question about that. You know I love the bathroom, so is that really the best place to store the toilet paper? I only have so much self-control you know. And Banishment seems pretty harsh as a punishment. How long can you keep closing that door? Eventually someone will slip up (The Viking) and I will be waiting. Oh the things I will do before you catch me. It will be worth every loud sound you make in protest that I’m not listening to anyway.
Short people came to the house the other day and they smelled reasonable enough so I gave one of them the proper cat invitation to play – a little nip – and it started to howl like a demon from the depths of hell and it leaked water all down its face! OMFG! What a racket! They might look sweet but that’s obviously a survival mechanism or something because they definitely are not sweet! Then the Missus descended like an avenging God and grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and yelled in my face for 4 seconds – 2 of which I wasn’t even listening to. Then she and The Viking started apologizing to the tall person – but I didn’t. I didn’t bother to look guilty either. Why did they even come here if they weren’t prepared to play?
And now, the Missus is putting up a “Beware of Cat” sign on the door. Is that really necessary?
I’m not allowed to hang from the clothes as the Missus is folding them. I can’t chew up paper on the desk, step on the computer power button or walk on her keyboard. Hanging from the screen on the bedroom window is also banned.
AND, the Grand Daddy of things I’m not allowed to do….I’m not allowed to go outside! Why? Why, why, WHY?! It’s so interesting out there! Do you enjoy torturing cats? I don’t care if I’m too little! In case you haven’t noticed…..I’m a biter!! and I’ll bite the fuck out of anyone who messes with me.
Let’s look at this logically. So far…..how many times have I been bitten? That’s right. None. And how many times have The Missus & The Viking been bitten? Right again! Lots and lots. So exactly who should be kept inside and who should be allowed outside to explore the world? I rest my case.
To wrap up my very first Cat Rant, I’d like to address an important issue. I am growing and my legs are now disproportionally large compared to my body mass – so I’m fast. Fucking fast! It’s like having gazelle legs! And because of this amazing speed, I have managed, on a couple of occasions, to shoot past The Viking and out the back door before he realized I was even in the vicinity. It’s adorable the way he yells “Fucksakes!!” every. single. time.
The issue I have involves the methods they use to lure me back into the house. I never come when they call me because I’m a cat and cats never win their freedom and then give it up for nothing. It was raining heavily that one time I did come in for treats, but that would never work if it was sunny and warm outside – just so you know. My big objection is the deployment of Jackson Galaxy’s Fishing Rod with the little insectoid-looking thing on the end of the wire. That’s not cool! You know I can’t resist it! I would never dangle a Maple Dipped Donut just to get you to do something you don’t want to do. Well….maybe I would but I’m not a nice person and you are.
Okay. Rant is over. Now….someone needs to get me treats and then rub my chin until I fall asleep at which point that somebody needs to put me in my favorite box covered by a towel.