Tuesday 27 January 2015

I didn't just sit here because the colour of the walls does a nice job of bringing out the gorgeous green of my eyes.  Rather, I was trying to send a message to my humans, who seem to be constantly passing right by the cat restaurant without so much as serving a single meal.  Alright, I suppose the bowl of kibble counts as a single meal, but one doesn't even need opposable thumbs for that.  (I have managed to chew a rather nice sized hole in the kibble bag, large enough for my whole upper body, which negates the need for opposable thumbs in the endeavor of attaining kibble).  Cans are a different story.

Right now I am sitting on and amid thirty-two choice meals, and there isn't a single human getting the hint.  I don't worry, fret, or even get frustrated...I get even.  I will sit here prettily and bide my time until one of the humans comes in.  Hopefully at this point, they'll get the hint and open a can.  If they at least pet me, (and who wouldn't, I mean look how cute and appealing I am), then I will let them off the proverbial hook.  However, if they seem to be breezing in and out of the room as they are wot to do, I will nonchalantly kick over a can.

I have found that the practice of dispersing my cans will generally have one of two effects.  The first, is that one of the mini humans might be the next to enter, and the little things might trip on the can left deliberately in the middle of the doorway.  This is the worst case scenario, because then the large human will come running, and won't be focusing on feeding me at all.  Also, the little humans let out this annoying screechy sound and leak at the eyes.  I hate wet, I hate that sound, and there's no food involved for my troubles.  Enough said.

The other possible outcome is that I can aim the falling of the can so that it hits precisely on the tipping point of the edge of the bowl.  If done correctly, (and I have honed this skill), the bowl of kibble will tip with the weight of the can, spilling the dry food across the floor.  The humans will rush in for one reason or another, and will come across the shall we say, art.  Humans, I have learned, detest having things stick to the bottoms of their feet.  I believe this is likely linked to the disability of having no hair growing between their toes.  We cats are used to having things stick to our fur, and so unless it's wet, we don't mind.  (In fact, most of us have learned how to grind kitty litter in there well enough to be able to track it around the house)!  But I digress.  Upon seeing the "art", (or walking across it on their rushed way to the porcelain bowl), there will be new vocabulary I only hear during rare and loud occasions, which will be paired with restoring the bowl of kibble.  Lastly, they must pick up the can of food to place it back on the box and bam, often this means suppertime!

So now I set my trap and wait.  Hopefully a human will come in soon and pet me at the least.  Until then, I will call to them. Here, human, human...feed me!

Sunday 18 January 2015

I have been working on one of my large humans, and I find that it is willing to cave in and give me what I want if I am especially annoying.  This is cat reverse psychology, and it works amazing well on the mini humans and weak minded alike.  At its core, the fundamentals of cat reverse psychology are: 1. Humans have things that they love and cherish, and that they don not want broken, 2. The cat is valued even more than these things, 3. Humans are perfectly capable of having both, as long as they do what we want.

One of my humans draws, paints, and uses the laptop quite often, and this she calls WORK. I believe it means Worrying Over Responsibilities (that are) King-sized, as the human often gets stressed when doing it, and there always seems to be a lot of it.  I have come to know my humans' moods and habits pretty well, which helps make cat reverse psychology all the more useful and effective. If I want to go outside, which I always want to do if I'm not napping, and the human will not open the door despite my half hour of yelling at her to do so beside the door, (Really, I don't know what they think their opposable thumbs are for,) then I will turn to cat psychology.

I used to nap on the laptop almost constantly, until something called the "L button" was damaged with my doing so, and my older human had a mild break down.  I would have enjoyed this whole process as very entertaining, except it put an end to my favourite napping place.  Now, if I even look at the laptop, I am reprimanded before even jumping on it with a "No, Bonsie!", and this, I can assure you, is not fun.  So now, I lay on a the game system that is hardly ever used.  The down side is that it's not warm and cozy like the laptop, however the upside is that there is a buffet of cables that I have recently taken to nibbling, but I know that I must be discrete about this lest I lose my new napping spot too.  So, the laptop is out of my cat reverse psychology repetoire...but the sketch book isn't.

I have worked at it and worked at each of the coils that bind it together, lovingly with my teeth.  Not only is this an enjoyable activity, but I am really quite proud of the fact that I have removed the cover and several WORK pages not once, not twice, but...Oh look, the door is opened!  Worked like a charm.

I have worked this way on my human so effectively, that now the door opens freely, often at only the fifth meow, and today I was able to go outside with the mini humans and large humans alike. They have something called a SLED: Sliding Lumber that Ends-up Downhill. I tried it, it didn't move.  I did notice that they had to WORK to get it up the hill, so perhaps it's for the best.  Instead, I just enjoyed being in the great outdoors in close proximity to my human clan.  This is one of my favourite things, so I will hope that they stay outside for a good long while, and when they all come in...feed me.

* If you have enjoyed my blog, please check out my other work at reillybooks.com or reillybooks.weebly.com

Tuesday 6 January 2015

When humans come to visit, they sometimes bring their own felines and canines too. I suppose they think that because they enjoy each other's company, that we should also be subjected to the company of others as well.  Cats just simply don't think this way.  We are very territorial, and know to respect the hierarchy of a family.  The food chain goes as follows: Cat on top, then the humans that feed me, then the humans that don't feed me.  The dog doesn't really factor into things, unless it tries to eat my food, and thus displays a death wish.  

Now, when another cat is brought to visit, it by all rights should also be on the highest rung of the food chain.  We establish a pecking order, I eat first (of course), then Tribble, then the guest.  So the new feline understands this, I begin by venturing into the room where it's carrier is.  This is the only piece of furniture in the house that I haven't either slept on or used as a means to get to another piece of furniture.  Therefore, it is the only thing in the house that doesn't already smell like me.  My first job is to claim it.  There, now everything smells like me.  For good measure, to show the new cat who's boss, I will sit by the supper can long after I am finished eating, until I am ready for my nap. This way, the cat will understand it's place in my home, and respect my authority like any good guest should.

Now, the dog is a different matter.  You can't reason with a dog the way you can with a cat or even a human.  The dog only really has two thought processes: "Oh good, my favourite!" and the far less exuberant "Oops, I just peed on the floor."  Now, the latter has it's obvious down side.  No one wants wet paws that smell like the filtering of last night's kibble.  On the other hand, you have to be careful that you or your favourite places to sleep don't fall into the dog's first frame of mind.  When a canine enters the home, it is full of unnecessary excitement.  "Oh good, more humans, my favourite!", "Oh good, mini-humans' toys to chew on, my favourite!", "Oh good, a chair to sit on, my-" Now wait right there, buddy, this one is MINE."  

A cat exudes it's authority by placing itself in a spot that prevents another animal from being there.  Many cats have made the mistake of fuffing at a canine, and all that does is excites them to the point of insanity.  "Oh good, a furry chew toy that wants to play AND makes noise, my favourite, favourite, favourite!" chomp. This fatal mistake never ends well for anyone.  Instead, one must take an almost nonchalant approach with the dog.  They expect a good chase.  I say, don't give them one.  In fact, if you want to really show them who's in charge, I say lie down and take a nap.  Your humans love you enough to keep you safe, so why not let them do the work.  This will drive the dog up the wall, especially if you sit in what it thinks should be it's favourite chair.  So for now, I'll take a very unexcited stance on our guests, and remain at the top of your food chain.  Speaking of food...feed me.

Saturday 3 January 2015

The humans often wonder how we felines can very comfortably fall asleep in the strangest of positions.  The answer is complete and utter flexibility.  To my humans, who always seem to fall asleep in the same position, (a trait that blatantly shows their lack of imagination), this might look horribly uncomfortable.  However, I can assure you, dear reader, that there is method to this seeming madness.

I often sprawl on my back for several reasons.  For one, the humans think it is a sign of trust. It makes them feel like they're doing a good job of taking care of me.  I like to make them think that they are doing well.  I suppose that it gives them a warm fuzzy feeling, which makes them forgive me more quickly when I toy with their emotions and use cat psychology on them.  (It also helps me get away with activities that I hold so dear, like "helping").  Whenever a cat is sleeping, which let's be honest, is most of the time in a perfect world, we are inevitably woken by a mini human's prodding or poking.  By presenting my fuzzy little tummy, I am inviting the attention there.  If I am to be woken early, I am at least going to get a good belly rub out of it.  

This bit of cat psychology is priceless, and goes along with other wonderful tricks such as rubbing fur against black pants to receive petting, and perching on a lap in order to get closer to your ice cream.  The honor and privilege the humans feel at our attention almost always wins in our favour, and the positive outcome for us is often two-fold. I mean, why just steal licks at a human's ice cream or breakfast cereal milk when one can often obtain petting at the same time?

Bending in half and twisting ourselves like a pretzel is not just done for comfort, and to make the humans feel uneasy at our uncanny dead-like appearance, but it also affords a means to an end.  By folding myself thusly, I am actually able to use the cover of blanket to shield the light from my eyes.  This is particularly useful when humans are up and around and feel the need to use a fake light source given there generally less than ideal eyes.  It is also a wonderful technique if we cats happen to come across a perfect square of sunlight that we just must bask in on the floor or furniture.

I would suggest that humans give this posture a try, they might be surprised at how comfortable it really is.  The only reason I haven't, is because the big humans are rickety enough as it is, sometimes barely able to walk after sitting for what they consider to be a long time in one position.  We cats endeavour to sleep for much longer periods of time, and I'm afraid that upon waking, they will have lost the ability to shuffle to our bowl and feed us.  Alas, humans will just have to continue their dull sleeping exercises in the way that they always have, and leave the really talented stuff to us.  I try not to expect too much from my human counter parts, and this seems to make life easier for all of us.  I leave the humans now to ponder at the greatnss of my sleeping posture, and possibly have the mini humans, who are much more flexible than the older ones, copy me.  Who knows, they may even succeed, but until then...feed me.

Thursday 1 January 2015


Well, I suppose I'm happy to announce that after the new year festivities, all of my humans are still around.  This gave me an opportunity to torture them.  I have always been a fan of cold, fresh water.  With my upbringing in the midst of the finer things in life, I have developed a certain set of standards, which I choose to live by.  Always having water newly poured from the tap is a must.  Unfortunately, the humans don't seem to be on board with this policy.  They enter the bathroom countless times a day with the mini human, and yet only take the time to pick up my bowl and change over the water once or twice a day.  I mean really! I expect fresh water every time my perfect little tongue is parched.

I therefore devised a plan to find my own fresh water.  I noticed that every time they sat upon their porcelain bowl, they would create new, fresh, cool, clean water when they were through.  Problem solved!  All I have to do is take my nap on the nearest bed, and I can have perfect water almost any time of day.  The bonus to this plan is that the humans for some reason objected.  (Not enough to pour me new fresh water in my bowl whenever I want it though). So, happily, I continued.

This leads me to my Hanukkah present.  My family got me a fancy new continuously pouring drinking fountain. It looks pretty swanky, and probably cost them a fortune.  On the whole, I like it.  Even more impressive is the fact that it came in a wonderful new box, which I fit into perfectly!  The new play ground is wonderful.  I can play there with my other feline counterpart, Tribble.  I claimed it right away, of course, and much fun has been had as a result.

The best part about the whole holiday for me, is the fact that after about three days I went back to using the porcelain bowl for drinking out of.  Don't get me wrong, I do like the new fountain, and I do still use it when the humans aren't looking, but drinking out of the porcelain bowl seems to drive them insane, which to me, is hilarious.  I have also found that it drives them right up the wall if I sit and wait on the back shelf of the bowl when I hear them approaching, then as soon as the new water fills the bowl, I can jump in and get the coolest draft possible.  I get the best reactions that way, the set up really is purrfect. 

Perhaps I'll find a new way of getting them to buy an automatic can opener which will open cans continually for me.  Now that would be a wonderful and truly appreciated gift.  And I bet it would come with a another box.  I feel that this is good fodder for my upcoming nap.  I shall have the sweet dreams of the humans inventing one for me if they don't yet exist.  But until then...feed me.