Yawn, Quit Calling Me Lazy

I have rediscovered pha. Perhaps the change in weather has something to do with it. Whatever he is under I want in. Going below the quilt is awesome. I have just about developed a three-step regimen. I sleep on pha. I sleep besides pha. I sleep near pha. After all that it's time for a tongue-bath and I am off. There are other sleep appointments for me to keep upstairs.


P.S. Quit whining that I don't come when crunchy treats are distributed. I am making you exercise, human.

Happy Days

I don't have any gripes this time. The past week has been excellent. I was getting tired of my hairbrush. It wasn't soothing my delicate skin enough. Pha has replaced it with his own. The change is nice. I can fault him for scrimping but I am in a good mood and also the beneficiary. He did buy new scented litter. It is one of life's greatest joys to inaugurate the new batch. The package also included a catnip pillow. Its big size matches my great personality. I am a little curious about this increase in attention. I am not going anywhere, human. Oh well, the high is fading. Pillow of delight here I come...

Mere Punching Bags

Don't bug me blog, I am grouchy. Nathan is not responding to my fight invitations. I have slapped him around quite a bit in the last little while but it's just not the same. The problem is not really a new one. Bro and I do spar but not enough and totally at his initiation. Lions, tigers, leopards, cheetahs and my other relatives all are well-versed in attacking and defending. I feel rusty and out of practice. While we guard the human litter-box with pha inside I have slashed Nathan without a response. Punches thrown as we wait for pha to serve our meals are going unanswered. Even quality swats from heights when bro passes by are ignored. Golden opportunities are lost especially when nobody is around to witness my wild side or attest against my meek reputation. Pha is also angering me(more). Just the other day I nailed him good and he just walked away. There were no screams, no signs of irritation, just the deafening quiet. What's a warm-blooded cat to do?

Darn Squatter

My naps are divided among four spots. I rotate them according to traffic and time of the day. The sectional couch is one of my favourites. There is a specific location on it that provides the best view and optimal rest. When pha comes upstairs, more often than not he would sit on that couch. No prizes for guessing the exact place where the yahoo would dump his sorry self. Sis, if present, joins him to get serviced. My sharp stares have had little impact on the silly human. I have climbed the coffee-table next to the couch to ogle the brute into submission. It has not worked thus far. I like the sectional and want it vacant. It is ugly but comfortable, kinda like Florence. Thankfully, pha only stays for a short while.

Under Cover

I was getting bored and craving crunchy treats. I decided to pay downstairs a quick visit. While tackling the wooden steps I realized it was pretty cold. It's unusual for heat levels to dip that low during late mornings. I have given up on understanding the heating methods of humans. Anyway, I found pha, lying on his side, under the quilt. He looked asleep so I climbed the bed and meowed. He mimicked it. Confused, I repeated. He meowed again! Sour at his prank, I decided to have a serious face-to-face with the silly man. As I slid under the quilt, I was greeted with a pleasant warmth. Pha was awake and eager to please. I got a caress-massage mix, which was just what the doctor ordered. Relaxed, I opted for a quick payback and sprawled on my side. I can copy stuff too. The goofball had dozed off. Stretching, I raced upstairs to my bed. Naps are contagious.

Scaredy Cat

A week ago, pha witnessed a small dog being crippled by a car. Since then he is very protective and overly affectionate. Constant hugs and on-demand grooming have been unleashed. The latter mediates for the former. Minor flaws in technique have become magnified due to mere repetition. I like to play with the comb during the session. A few little bites and a couple of quick swats are common. Sometimes pha gets in the way. He would either continue grooming or altogether quit, depending on the severity of the strike. It is nearly impossible to get him started again once he has quit. He needs to suck it up. So what if I pierce a bit of skin or the scratches sting for a while? Wear them as badges of honour, pal. The length of the session is solely my decision. The collateral damage is just a minor nuisance, you wuss of a human. Pleasure me!

Yuck!

Pha is going through one of his meddling phases. Every so often he would get an idea about bettering his service. The move from water-bowl to water-fountain and from big-company-junkfood to small-firm-healthfood are highlights of his previous fits. Presently he is experimenting with our wet food. Salmon and turkey have been added to tuna in our menu. I can't stand either of them. It reminds me of dark ages when pha would feed us cat food(!). Our delicate palates have gotten used to human-grade food. The crunchy salmon and dry turkey, albeit the correct class, are just unacceptable. I hope leaving most of my meals untouched is enough of a sign for pha. Don't make me resort to spewing hair-balls!

Reserved Parking

It's hard to be jealous of a machine but a certain folding contraption is getting on my nerves. On select occasions I approach pha and expect his torso to be available. He needs to be awake and attentive to grasp the importance of such privilege. It is my right to treat him as a self-heating bed. Often I find him busy meddling with the white gadget. Not only is the device blocking my territory but is also impeding his awareness. An exquisite creature like myself warrants complete focus and highest respect. Pha better correct this mistake as I don't share humans.

Life 101

I don't want to clog this space with a series of rebuttals. Nathan's strut and pha's pout, however, need to be addressed. My absence downstairs has given the wrong impression. Like any shrewd adult I believe in a diverse portfolio. Upstairs offers a vastly superior range of resources and amusements. Water, dry food and wet food verses the litter-box is not even a contest. I can keep an eye on both the driveway and the backyard. Yummy squirrels, rival cats and petite birds aren't visible from downstairs. Most importantly, nothing can beat the human circus constantly around me. A shuffling human beanbag in underwear is a sight to behold. The beeline sleepy cooker makes to the teapot many times a day cracks me up. Just the other day I enjoyed watching her all dolled up (or like a plump peahen as pha put it). I also get to meet and greet my other primary provider and the father figure of the pride. Bro can be an enigma. I prefer being open. As far as pha is concerned, he is a lifer. He will be happy whenever I choose to honour him with my presence. I wonder if he'll feel the same way about the aftereffects of my imminent use of the litter-box.

O Human, Where Wert Thou?

Florence has lost her edge. Cats take pride in their curiosity and vigilance. Some recent events provided us with a chance to investigate and I was the only feline at the scene. For couple of days pha would don rarely used gear and leave the house before dawn. He would return at or after dusk smelling like dirt, sweat and strange places. He got the requisite scolding for leaving us, the precious creatures, unattended. The silly human seemed sheepish and, oddly enough, grateful at my inquiries. Ever since then, I have been getting thorough combings and loads of crunchy treats at demand. It goes without saying that I deserve a lot more. I just think that had sis joined me confronting pha, she would also have benefited. Humans are so easy to manipulate. Utter a small purr or give them little company and they start cooing and strutting like idiots. I suppose Florence chose rest over amusement.