This week's post is from a gueast blogger, my cat. His name is Whiskers. He wants to get some things off of his chest today, so here it is...
Hello. I have taken the time to learn English (and reading and writing and typing) to bring to your attention some concerns that I have about being a pet.
One: Food. Why do you think that we are happy eating little brown chunks of dried food? Because we eat a lot of it? What if you had to eat beef jerkey wrapped in uncooked oatmeal all day? Would that not get boring after a while? That also explains why I like the occasional tuna now and then. It's unseasoned and not terribly good, but so much better than the crap that you normally feed me...Then I have to sit there and watch the people I live with eating wonderfully smelling food, not offering me any. I personally have to settle for sneaking on the stove and licking the grease-filled pan. NOT COOL!
Two: Litterbox. Ok, so I'm lucky in that I enjoy the feeling of sand in my paws when I do my business. Yet, I'd like you to clean the damn thing more often. How would you like to use your toilet and not be able to flush until a larger person came at their leisure to clean it?
Three: Toys. The little rubber ball and laser pointer are awesome! Hey! there's the light, I got it! No, now it's on my paw...what gives? there is goes.......and whoo hoo! We're running so fast! It's like hunting in the wild! I feel so free and ---OUCH!!---- stupid TV in my way, that hurt!
Young Children: I will only take so much hair pulling, tail pulling. tossing, spinning, being sat on, tail stepping, chasing...well, I like the chasing. It's really quite entertaining trying to get your boy stuck under the couch again...
Stupid Spray Bottle: Ok, you really think that is going to deter me from getting in the trash, climbing the curtains without front claws, jumping on desks, counters, tables, and whatever else I feel like? You're wrong. Although sticking me under the running faucet was effective. It was rather humiliating to dip me in the bath with your boy...hearing him laugh at me...do you really think that telling him not to do that himself is going to help?
Vet: At first I was scared, but thought, I'll give him a chance. Bad mistake. First visit, my sister and I get poked with needles. Second visit, we get poked with needles and washed. Third visit: we get poked with needles, and have drops of medicine shoved down our throats for two weeks after. Same with the fourth visit. Meanwhile, my sister keeps thinking that I did something wrong...Then we go for a fifth visit, and I get poked with a needle, and I fall asleep, and I wake up shaved and trying to figure out what is missing...My sister, Fluffy, kept hissing at me all night. I don't feel like fighting her over it, though.On my last vet visit, we get poked with needles, and wake up with our front claws ripped out. Fluffy still taunts me about that...Here Whiskers, try to climb the curtains...ha ha ha! Now, I don't know why our vet has this thing with poking us with needles, but it is getting annoying...
Well, that's about all I have to say. I don't receommend that you continue leaving your toothbrush on the counter, nor do I think it wise to look behind the TV. Other than that, I shall be done with this typing...
Come on (c’mon), come on (c’mon), come on (c’mon), come on (c’mon)…
Please feed me, whoa yeah, I want you to.
I don’t want to sound complaining but you know there’s always rain in my stomach…
I do all the pleasing…..
etc, etc…..sung to the Beatles tune Please Please Me……my cat’s favorite song.
Posted by: Tom Sheepandgoats | July 26, 2008 at 12:48 PM