thinking

I've been thinking lately about last year. Last year at this time, I was living in the cat room at the animal shelter with my 2 brothers. I didn't know WHAT to think. I was born in a big city, but then someone came and took me and my brothers away with kitty mama to a big, big shelter. Mama gave us milk. Mama got fixed, and then they said she was "released" because she was "feral," but the three of us were going to get "socialized." So then we went to aNOTHER shelter, one with not many animals. And we played with each other and slept a lot. I missed kitty mama, but I know that kitty mama didn't want to be inside, so it's okay.

Human mama came and got me on August 12. One brother found his human mama on August 11, and another on August 13. I was in the middle.

I'm glad human mama came.

But I wish my brothers had email.

Ask the Big Boy Kitties and Big Girl Kitties

Dear Big Boys and Big Girls,
As you know, I'm new at being a Big Boy. I only became one in June, and I haven't even lived at Mama's house (on the street with cars and squirrels). And on the revgals page, new pastors can ask for help with how to be pastors, and so I thought that maybe if I put up my questions about how to be a big boy, some of the big boys out there can tell me how to do it right.

Here's the first question:
When I sharpen my claws on the big wicker basket where the dirty clothes are kept, my mama yells at me. How can I get her to stop this bad habit? I have been trying to ignore her, and I've tried sassing her, but she just keeps doing it. What should I do?

Here's the second question:
Every night I work really, really hard at decorating the apartment. There are lots of things to take out of the trash and move to prettier places. There are razors to knock down from the bathtub, eyeglasses and remote controls to remove from tables, and of course, it's important to take just a few socks out of the hamper and put them in the living room. Every night I do this all by myself. My sister never helps. How can I get her to help? And can I possibly get mama to just leave it all alone for once so I can get some sleep?

Here's the third question:
My mama keeps putting tape on the scratching post that she calls a sofa. It takes me weeks to get it off again. How can I stop her from doing this?

Here's the fourth question:
How can I make my sister like me better? I try jumping on her head. I try licking her ears. I try to play with her, but she doesn't seem to like me yet. What else can I do?

I'm worried

about my cousin Fish.

I want his paw to feel better.

I asked the Big Cat for healing for him.

I hope Big Cat heard me.

Get Better, Fish!

This! Is! Bad!

There are loud! noises outside my apartment!
Really! loud!
bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang!
I! don't! like! it!
Not even a little.
Tell them to stop.

If you need me, I'll be under the bed.

Kitties of the world! Unite!

Okay.
My mama will not let me get a gun, use my claws, or take self defense classes.
I'm not allowed to cuss or even call people icky poo-poo heads (sorry, Mama, it was an illustration.)
Which means that when I get MAD, I have one thing left to me: the power of the box. Or more likely, the power of not using the box.

I haven't had to use this before. But I am not afraid to. It's not the Texas towncar of justice. It's more like the kitty caravan of justice.

Someone has been VERY mean to my mama's blog friend, WS.

I don't like it.

So, I am willing to use my (ahem) aromatic liquids to get my point across.

The very best is upholstry or carpet. Someplace so it gets into the padding, and sticks around for a while.
But clothing will do.

So, who is with me?? Who is going to join me in lifting their tales in outrage? We. Can. Do. It!!!!!!!


Well, perhaps a snack and a nap first, but THEN, watch me go. I'll just snack and nap while the rest of you sign up.

YOU IN????