I am just overwhelmed with love for my little pets tonight, and their little habits that make them cats, and mine. I just watched this special on big African cats, and it made me wonder if some big cats saw little Milly and River in the wild if they would know they were the same species and leave them unharmed or if they would just eat them and ask questions later.
It seems like Milly has to remind me every time I come home that it's HER - she does this little hop as she greets me through the door every single day, like "hey, it's me!" As if I would forget the creature tearing my Cosabella thong to shreds with its tiny razor claws as I was wearing it the first night I brought the creature home as a teeny tiny kitten.
Nope. No way I'm confusing YOU for someone else, you little sh*t. But I appreciate the effort, and I completely adore you.
Showing posts with label crazy cat lady. Show all posts
Showing posts with label crazy cat lady. Show all posts
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
And if you think this entry is borderline crazy, you should also know that I pretend that Milly talks with a German accent
Ok, so what I really want to do is continue my series of Discount Department Store blogs with entries about Nordstrom Rack and Century 21, but I can't because my cats are the only thing on my mind. So we'll just call this a crazy cat lady blog from now on and not a fashion and style blog, yesno?
My cats are top of mind right now (top of cabinet, top of HOT OVEN; please stop) and my anxiety is verreh high because of the nature of Milly's (my cat) reception of River (R's cat). Poor. It was extremely poor. With hissing and growling and spitting and hiding and removal of pieces of poo from the litter box (my displeasure; let me show you it!) and other forms of mutiny.
We've tried bribery and trickery and distraction and entertainment (R has done his best Jagger like every day for these creatures) and I cared very much about their individual and collective happiness until 11:40 p.m. on Monday night at which time I began to care very little about their leeeetle kitty feeeeeelings because shut the hell up you are not going to be able to open that closed door no matter how long (3 hours) you meow and rattle it with your paws, like OMG.
They can't have it both ways. They can't have their kitty cake and eat it too. I will prevail. I will sleep again.
I'm Ron Burgandy?
My cats are top of mind right now (top of cabinet, top of HOT OVEN; please stop) and my anxiety is verreh high because of the nature of Milly's (my cat) reception of River (R's cat). Poor. It was extremely poor. With hissing and growling and spitting and hiding and removal of pieces of poo from the litter box (my displeasure; let me show you it!) and other forms of mutiny.
We've tried bribery and trickery and distraction and entertainment (R has done his best Jagger like every day for these creatures) and I cared very much about their individual and collective happiness until 11:40 p.m. on Monday night at which time I began to care very little about their leeeetle kitty feeeeeelings because shut the hell up you are not going to be able to open that closed door no matter how long (3 hours) you meow and rattle it with your paws, like OMG.
They can't have it both ways. They can't have their kitty cake and eat it too. I will prevail. I will sleep again.
I'm Ron Burgandy?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
