We're alright

So Mini-Kitten isn't so mini anymore, she's growing fast, but she's still mini compared to me.

I'm pretty much convinced my little sister is what only can be called "bat-shit crazy". And I mean that in the nicest of ways.

Curiosa and the Dude just sit there and look at her as she pounces on something that isn't there, runs across the room and does a quadruple backflip, using the edge of the couch as a balance beam. Then it's her superman routine, where the Dude exclaims, "Holy cow! It's a bird, it's a plane, it's a flying mini-kitten!!" as she crosses the room in leaps and bounds. Her grand finale is a triple salchow, topped off with a few seconds of adorable tail chasing, after which she collapses in exhaustion, with her head on her paws.

She takes a quick cat nap, and then two minutes later repeats the routine, with some variation in her pouncing and tail chasing.

I can see why Curiosa and the Dude are a bit baffled by this behaviour, because I'm a cat and I don't entirely understand the actions of the adorable spaz that is my little sister. I mean, pouncing on air is one thing, I get that, but the triple salchow is a bit over the top.

On another note, the Dude and I have reached an understanding. He has agreed that I am the Man of the House, and the only reason he is allowed to be there is because I say so. He gives me plenty of chin scratches, takes lots of anti-histimines, and washes his hands after aforementioned chin scratches. In exchange, I have agreed not to poop in his shoes. Sounds like a pretty fair deal to me.

The Dude is out of town for a week, so we've been allowed back in the bedroom. That's right, I knew Curiosa would come to her senses and would come crawling back. I promptly re-asserted my reign over the bedroom, by sitting on the pillow that the Dude has claimed for himself. Curiosa warned me that this is only temporary, that in a week, after some serious laundering, the bedroom will once again be a cat-free zone, but we'll see about that.

Not so bad after all

Maybe the Dude does have a few redeeming qualities, like opposable thumbs. (Though I'm not ready to admit that to him). It seems he can contribute to the overall number of chin scratches in our apartment. THAT can never be a bad thing.

I think I need a hug

Dear Mortal Enemy,

I am writing to inform you that I have secured the world's supply of Benedryl, which you can no longer stockpile behind your litter box, and have invested in a state-of-the-art gas mask which can sustain human life for up to 123 days in the event of successive cat bombings (or even a single, cat-astrophic detonation). Furthermore, I have shielded myself by wearing ROD-proof underwear, so I'm safe from your evil gaze should you continue to send me Ray of Death stares from across the room.

I am immune to any further attempts to banish me from the Enclave in the Kingdom of Sweden Ruled by His Most Esteemed and Benevolent Highness the Dictator Currently Known as Sir Ullrick the Wondercat the III 1/2.

Sincerely,
The Dude

Alpha Male

Since the Dude** has been the source of the introduction of a feline-free zone in the bedroom (sneeze, smeeze!!), it is necessary to take counter measures. I propose the immediate establishment of a Dude-free zone in the entire apartment.

**Curiosa is, of course, an accomplice in this matter, but I will deal with her with some amount of leniency. I refuse to believe that she is intentionally participating in any actions that are harmfulinconvenient to the well-beingspoiled existence of His Most Esteemed and Benevolent Highness the Dictator Currently Known as Sir Ullrick the Wondercat the III 1/2 and His sidekick the Mini-Kitten. She must surely be under the undue influence of the Dude. I will accept a plea of temporary insanity.

Mini and Maxi Kitten

Forewarned is forearmed

The establishment of Cat-Free Zones in the Household Environment is a direct violation of Statute 101.346 of the Treaty Establishing Peace in the Enclave in the Kingdom of Sweden Ruled by His Most Esteemed and Benevolent Highness the Dictator Currently Known as Sir Ullrick the Wondercat the III 1/2. Any attempt to create Cat-Free Zones will be considered as no less than an Act of War. Any enemy forces hostile to HMEBHDCKSUR3.5 will be met with swift and violent force, including but not limited to, total confiscation and anhilation of the world's supply of Benedryl, the strategic placement and detonation of cat bombs, and the release of cat allergens into the drinking supply.

Poopster

I gotta give my little 'sis props. What she lacks in size, she makes up for in fragrance!

The Dude walked Curiosa home tonight, and right as he was leaving, just to seal the deal to make sure he got outta there in due course, the Mini Kitten (I'm the Maxi Kitten) dropped a BIG 'ol stink bomb in the litter box.

As the Dude said, "How can that that smell come from that tiny kitten? That has to violate several laws of physics."

Mind you, this was all part of the plan. Only trouble was, Curiosa wanted to get the heck outta there as well.

And after all, we do need to keep her around for the sake of her opposable thumbs.

A Memorandum by the Dictator Currently Known as Ullrick

To Whom It May Concern:

Before you go to the trouble of attempting to pass new legislation regarding the Running of Household, I am writing to inform you that I will VETO immediately and without further debate any policies that attempt to implement any of the following measures: 1) weekly bathing (my goal is to INCREASE, not REDUCE the total level of cat dander in the home environment); 2) an increase in the frequency of vacuuming (i.e. the dust sucker), which causes me indescribable pain due to its noise levels; and 3) the installation of a lock on the bedroom door intended to prevent small paws from reaching under and letting owner of aforementioned small paws into the bedroom.

Do NOT attempt to implement any of the above mentioned measures for there shall be dire consequences for all parties directly or indirectly involved in such matters.

Sincerely,
the Dictator Currently Known as Sir Ullrick the Wondercat

You will sneeze when I tell you to sneeze!

Things are getting really fishy around here, and not in a good way.

I have discovered I possess a new superpower: To Make the Dude Sneeze.

So see, here's what I do. There is a temporary ceasefire, and I pretend to be waving the white flag (in the form of my tail...it's orange, but whatever). I carefully approach the Dude, who says, "Get away from me, you walking allergen."

He's sitting on one side of MY couch, I jump up on the other. We stare each other down. He looks away first. I win.

Then I continue the truce farce and carefully scootch over towards him, closer and closer. If I can just reach his nose, I can stick my paw up it. That oughta do it. Take that, DUDE!

I heard him tell Curiosa that once the sneezing starts, it won't stop. Maybe he'll go away if I make him sneeze uncontrollably.

In the meantime, I'm just going to hide all the Benedryl behind my litterbox.

True love

True love, man, is a pack of bendryl and a can of tuna.

Word.

It's been a very, VERY long week

A Little Help from John Locke

"Property, whose original is from the right a man cat has to use any of the inferior creatures [i.e. the humans], for the subsistence and comfort of his life, is for the benefit and sole advantage of the proprietor". (First Treatise, Chapter 9).

We need to get some things straightened out around here. It's MY couch, MY litterbox, MY lap that Belongs to Me, MY kitten food, MY bed, MY apartment, and it's even MY red bowling bag purse thing. As John Locke so wisely put it, all of this stuff is for MY "subsistence and comfort." I LET Curiosa use MY stuff because she feeds me and takes care of the litter critters I leave behind. But now, there's this Dude who can't seem to get the concept of private property through his thick skull. And to top it all off, there is a New Kitten who is visiting us. And she has the nerve to sleep in MY kitty basket. Never mind the fact that I have never once slept in that basket myself since Curiosa made it for me, but it's MINE nonetheless.

This kitten is not nearly as bad as the Dude, but I'm just reminding everyone right now, that she is now MY kitten.

THIS is how you bathe a little kitty!

You made a woman meow? (From When Harry Met Sally)

Dude, I'm not so sure I can take much more of this.

First there is all the BS with the bowling bag and the Wet Cat Incident. Just when I think things are getting back to normal, this guy shows up. And he doesn't go away.

Listen buddy, I don't know who you are, and what you think you're doing, but let's just get one thing straight, pucko. I'M the man of THIS house, and you better get used to it. Like yesterday, already.

He comes in the door, and I think, "Okay, maybe he's the pizza delivery guy." Those pizza delivery guys, they're pretty harmless, and if I'm lucky, Curiosa will drop some cheese. I love le fromage, man.

So it's a pretty simple formula, as far as I'm concerned. Get the pie, pay the dude, and send him on his merry way. BUT HE DOESN'T LEAVE!

He comes in, and he sits on MY couch. Not only does he sit on MY couch, he stretches out on it like he belongs there or something. Watch it, buddy! You don't know who you're dealin' with!! I could totally pounce you!

So I sit there on the other couch glaring at him, hoping he'll GET THE MESSAGE and get his ass off MY couch. But this guy is thick. Dumb as a rock. Not a flippin' clue.

So then Curiosa comes in, and I think, "Thank God! She'll let him know who's who around here."

But then, not only does she NOT let him know who's who, she sits down besides him. She seems to encourage him to keep sitting on the couch.

And just when I think that things couldn't possibly get any worse, the Dude has the audacity to put his head in MY lap. (I don't mean my lap, per se. I'm a cat; I don't have a lap.) I mean the Lap that Belongs to Me. The Lap that I sit in, when I please and where I please. On MY couch, if you failed to remember that part.

I continue to sit and stare, until finally I lick myself and pretend not to care anymore.

Then it's bed time. As in "good night, sleep tight, sucker." Now, I think, he's get the hell out of here and I can have Curiosa to myself again.

Wrong again! This had to be the worst part...I think this might even be worse than being zipped into that damn red bowling bag and carried around like some kind of purse or something. They lock me out of MY bedroom, and prevent me from sleeping on MY bed, next to MY Curiosa.

Curiosa mumbled some kind of half-hearted explanation about something called "allergies" and said I'd probably have to get used to sleeping on the couch.

Then she tacked up a sign on the bedroom door in scrawled handwriting that read, "No Pussies Allowed."

Finally the Dude and I agreed on something. The Dude said maybe Curiosa should specify that she meant the four-footed kind of pussy, and then she said that if he didn't watch it, he could very well end up sleeping on the couch with me. Believe me, that was an option that NEITHER of us wanted.

But I'm not so sure that Curiosa stuck to her guns on that one. I may only be a little kitty, but I know the sound of mewing when I hear it. And if I'm not mistaken, I heard a distinct meowing sound coming from the bedroom. And I'm pretty sure it was coming from Curiosa.

I digress. My point was, THEY MADE ME SLEEP ON THE FRIGGIN' COUCH. I sat there all night and glared at the door, waiting to pounce whoever came out first. Of course, when the Dude finally came out, I pretended to be asleep, and when he came back through, I was licking myself again.

When the Dude finally left once and for all, Curiosa was still sleepy. She let me in, and I went right up to the pillows and made sure those pillows knew who they belonged to.

As for the Dude, I hope he checked his boots before he left, otherwise he was in for a squishy surprise.

One word, Dude, one word: POOPALICIOUS.

Dedicated to Kukka-Maria

I've said it before, and I'll say it again:

A clean litterbox is just a poop waiting to happen.

Love me, love my cat

Everyone's talkin' about how wonderful it is to have a kitty. Check out
why every day i'm one day closer to becoming the crazy cat lady by This Fish. (I know, I was excited too, but it's not that kind of fish.) She answers the question (correctly!! I might add), "What if you have to choose between true love and your cat?"

The Right Answer, Ladies and Toms: "It's not true love."

Because she asked me to, and I need some cash for cat nip

I'm only doing this because she said I'd get a cut of the profit for my Own Personal Use (Zoom Groom and kitty crack here I come), as well as assured me that a large part of the rest of it would be spent on something called rent. She said the alternative would be living under a bridge with me sleeping in that terrible sack.

So apparently there are other fashion accessories of use to people besides Mad Cat Hats (and PURSES arghhhhhh). I personally don't understand it as long strings of beads seem much more fun to use as playthings for kitties, but to each his own. Curiosa said she would make me a diamond studded collar, but thought I'd appreciate wearing that about as much as I like going for rides in bowling bags. (Sometimes she makes me wear a pink, PINK I SAID, harness around my itty bitty body, but THAT'S a post for another time).

Anyway, you might check out this link if you want to see some of the other things Curiosa does besides blogging (and bathing me). If you like anything in particular, you can go through the website, or you could even send me an email at fcuriosa@gmail.com. If you want some Kitty Couture Collars, don't be afraid to ask.

P.S. I'm fairly well recovered from the Wet Cat Incident, but I have to admit I'm milking it for all it's worth. Curiosa has been especially eager to serve my every need these past few days, and I'm going to make sure it stays that way.