They Have Finally Lost It August 24, 2011Posted by Stupor Kitty in Big Lug, random stuff.
Tags: we have lost our minds
What, I ask you, is a kitty to do about this?
I mean REALLY.
My people finally got rid of the Boy and it was great.
All kitty, all the time.
Then they went and brought in Old Mr. Barky Face there – the slobber-monster.
But you know, after a couple of years, the Big Lug kind of starts to grow on one, doesn’t he? I mean, sure, he’s not at all kitty-ish, but still. He does have a certain, shall we say, charm.
He respects Treat Time, allowing me a few skimpy minutes of Mother’s attention, and he doesn’t bother my Greenies or interrupt our Tender Moments. And like I always say – don’t start nothin’ won’t be nothin’.
I guess it could be worse.
And then it happened.
I can’t even think about it without shuddering.
They brought another one home. An even bigger one. One who . . . frolics. And squeaks. And (ugh) slobbers even more than the first one.
What, do they like that stuff or something?
Oh sure, they tried to dress it up and say “oh, look, kitty, a new sister for you” but I know better. That giant, 115-pound beast is no sister of mine. Do I look like I’d fall for that?
And the stomping and the running and the squeaking and the slobbering and oh! the noise!
How, I ask you, is a kitty supposed to get any beauty rest?
Plus, now there are TWO big black snouts sticking themselves through my kitty door at random times.
And did I mention the slobbering? The kitchen floor is like a swamp! Eeew.
I mean, seriously, there are (ack) dogs! everywhere!
Not to mention the stair landing. I’d gotten used to HIM hogging it for the better part of the day. I had my workarounds – I’ve learned how to get upstairs unmolested pretty much whenever the mood strikes, and that big old goofy head is none the wiser.
He thinks he’s such a great guard dog. Feh.
But now – NOW they’re taking it in shifts!
When he’s not blocking my access to the upper regions of the house, THE NEW BEAST IS!
What did I ever do to deserve such abuse? Do I bring strange kitties home to mess up their home?
Do I leave my kitty toys around for everyone to trip on? (Well, not much, anyway.)
And oh, good heavens, do they make a major production out of every meal – snorking and snuffling and woofing and slobbering and, oh, it’s just disgusting!
And great, it’s in stereo now.
And please, just spare yourself from thinking about the after-breakfast drink of water. It’s truly horrifying. And wet. Really wet. Slurpy.
But what might possibly be worst of all? She sits by the window, watching for my father.
You can just stop that right now, missy. He’s MY papa. And I will swat you in the snout if you mess with me. Just ask your partner how he liked that.