Hiss Scratch Piss and Beware!

2004-05-17T14:00:00.000-04:00

(Low growl)

My humans have left me in the care of someone else for a few months. Why? So that they can spend the summer in their palatial (well, not really) estate (okay, it's part of a 600-year-old fort) in the south of France (out in the sticks).

They spoke of it like a priveledge to me - "Hossie!" they said, speaking the "o" they think is in my name - "Hossie, you get to be the uncle to five kittens!"

Oh JOY.

These little brats won't leave me alone. They're better than human kids, because I'm bigger than them but they're equally addicted to the Sponge that is Bob. I don't understand this Bob fellow. Sponges are for cleaning up after the little kittens while they're learning how to use The Box. Sponges are not supposed to wear pants.

I don't know if this is related, but I'm curious as to what pineapple tastes like now.

So while my old human marrieds were trying to convince me that this was a far far better thing than I thought, they neglected to mention the REAL reason they wanted me out of the house: Carlota ("with ONE T!" as they often say) the French Harpie Cat.

Hah. I'm calling her Carlotta. Just to spite her. The harpie. I'd call her something obscene in French, but it makes me sound sort of fey.

The kittens are swiping at my tail. I'm going to go turn on CSPAN and try to put them into a coma. If all else fails, I'm hatching a nasty plot involving some Fancy Feast and a plastic bag.

Stay tuned...

Hassie

2004-04-29T02:15:00.000-04:00

I overheard my Mistress Seipp mention how twisted my offline sister Felice's legs have become and how senile she has gone. Mistress Seipp complained on her cat's weariness and demandingness that resembles an old lady's.
Senile, eh? At five, my owner thinks I'm senile too, and my legs are twisted in a certain way too. Reason: I try talking to my owners through my anxious meows, which they misinterpret to be demands, and I blog and read the blogs for hours on end that cause me to walk in a funny way.
In fact, I just read my owner's blog--well part of it just now before she threw me off her chair.
I don't know why Mistress Dubois is so concerned with her intelligence when due to the influx of readers from her instalanche, she has built confidence and allows one weird teacher to break it all down again. Fear--beats all good happenings in Cecile's world. How I'd like to scratch her and tell her to not let those idiots frighten her.
She is too damn insecure. Am I insecure when I lick my various body parts?
Message to Mistress Seipp: Send your daughter off to a nudist camp! That'd do the trick...
MEOW!

Kotoka

2004-04-28T01:36:00.000-04:00

50,000 pounds for a cat? And cloned too? Why not just adopt a cat that resembles your late one from the pound for only fifty pounds? It would be awfully boring if my clone looked exactly like me, minus the wits.
Would we blame your human food if we slipped by a naked cat? You humans are so peculiar. First, you have man date-raping a woman, and you have him whining, "It was the cat food!"
Next excuse: "The banana slipped out of my pants, damnit, and I couldn't control it. I slipped over it!"
Cat Comics!

[...]
TAKAOKA, Toyama Prefecture-Doraemon, futuristic cat king of comics, beloved by millions of children of all ages ... a sage for our times?

Yes, says Yasuyuki Yokoyama, a professor of Toyama University who has been giving weekly lectures on the comic cat for more than five years.

``While the characters often fight with each other in the comic, Doraemon values sympathy with the weak and keeps hold of dreams,'' says Yokoyama, 62. ``Doraemon also shows us what kind of problems we have in our society.''

[..]
The professor usually teaches lifelong sports at Toyama University, but once a week he also gives ``Doraemon gaku'' (Doraemon studies) lectures.

Meow, even my hero too.
I would just love to have my owner's dog befriend me and serve me dinner too.
She thinks that raising great cats can help her raise more sensitive boys.

When she had two young sons of her own, now 26-year-old Kyle and 22-year-old Corey, she thought that pets could help her raise more sensitive boys.

"I just surrounded them all their lives with pets," she said.

Cleaver said the family has "gone through the whole gamut of pets," including dogs, cats, ferrets and guinea pigs. All of the animals, Cleaver said, died a natural death until Corey's beloved English bulldog had to be euthanized.

"It was really, really tough," she said. "I mean, he cried and I cried and it was just awful. ... So I told him the day we buried her, I said, 'If you want to get another pet, I'll let you.'

Adopt cats like me. MEOW!

Kotoka

2004-04-26T14:00:00.000-04:00

My owner found my page. She patted me on the head and congratulated me for learning how to type, but said "Don't you know your name is spelled with an O? It's hOssie, not hAssie. And then she hid her slippers.

Also, I too am a boy cat, although not as much since they had me "eff-eye-ecks-ee-dee." They must have thought I didn't know how to spell, and their different spelling of my name must only confirm that.

The owners are foisting me on a family for the summer. A family with five teensy baby kittens. I get to be an uncle while the Alpha Male and Female are in France with my nemesis, Carlotta the stuck-up French cat. Yes, I know it's Carlota with one t. You people are real sticklers for spelling, aren't you? You wouldn't want to know what I call her behind your backs. A hint: it's another word with only one t.

I'm just bitter because I'm being displaced for another summer, and right after their daughter Ptitza got attacked on the subway. And her male friend neither beat heads in nor smashed kneecaps. In the words of Dadde-o Male, (much-muttered after he got off the phone with his only child) "If only I woulda been there. Grr."

Maybe I'll escape and run to the City this summer and try and be a vigilante justice cat for her. Hmm.

Hassie

2004-04-25T23:19:00.000-04:00

What humans are there for. If only humans can be better. On Mistress Seipp's latest post, I started a catfight with some Mili Pedia who attacked the size of Luke's sword or is it pocket knife. Mistress Seipp may be touchy on the subject of her friend's bodily functions and as a cat of her daughter, or family member, I needed to defend her. (Licking my claws.) My owner has been gracious in sharpening my claws lately. She's doing it all the time. I worry about her.
Luke Ford Fan has been contemplating that my owner has been metamorphisizing into a cat. If she has, wouldn't this be on http://ceciledubois89.journalspace.com?
If I were a feral cat, I would immediately paw over to alleycat.org for them to feed me lavish dishes and hire escort service for me. Who says that we cats don't appreciate leggy blondes allowing us to purr on their laps? I would just adore to be that intimate with a sexy lady.
Oh if only I were a human...
My owner lately has been anxious, neurotic, obsessive over debating with boys about politics, and asking her friend compulsively whether her underwear showed. Politics, my tail. She wants to engage in any conversation with a person of the opposite sex to push their buttons and to build her confidence. She even is spending more time in the bathroom doing G-D knows what. I even saw her the other day frowning on her complexion. She says she will give up on her bodily fur because its "too much work". No wonder she has been wearing jeans and other pants 24/7. It's stylish for us cats, but definitely not for my owner.
Purr...I worry about her.
She wants to debate because she wants attention. She wants attention to flatter herself. She subconsciously wants to make a fool of herself to add to her publicised immaturity on her blog. I can bet you five cat hairs she will copy and paste this on her blog. Just like my chum Luke Ford does to my other friend Luke Ford Fan.
Is my owner going to abandon me for the wilderness of the boys? She needs to spend more time with her dear cat and dog. Cats and dogs aren't around forever, boys are.
Just for her oblivity to my needs, I shall go and do a surprise on her pillow.

2004-04-21T01:21:00.000-04:00

Genny's Journal is another of our kind's journal. She trains her owner, we observe. By the way, this is Kotoka here.
My owner didn't bother to take me to camp with her. A million scratches to her for that. I pawed through her black book and there appeared to be many birds. Why did she deprive me of such a heaven?
All I get is processed cat food of G-D knows what animal of origin while she gets to see and hear all kinds of delicious birds. She heard parakeets and saw meaty crows. If I could fly, just to enjoy one bird a day. But unless if I were Jewish or an ornithologist, I would not be allowed there.
Billy the cat appears very mad. If I were left alone on a plane for 19 days, I would've pawed the plane to some interesting island--I would've travelled the world on a bird-tasting vacation!
The S. Africans sure love to trap their cats. And they enjoy dogs chasing us too. Thankfully we have PETA in America.
Even in San Francisco, cats are politically correct and used as an excuse to be discriminated. "Hey, I'm a cat fancier! I'm black yo! Give me that job!"
No wonder our way of living works best: sleep, eat, piss, eat sleep piss sleep sleep sleep. Its called catatonic-sim.

2004-04-20T17:06:00.000-04:00

Hello darlings. Old orange Hass here.
As soon as the "owners" left this morning, I was free to slipper surf.
The slippers of the female are open-backed, meaning there is a delightful space where her toes go that would just about fit my head if some cruel creature were to cram me in the slipper, face first. But I like to use it as fairings, that is, like the windshield of a motorcycle.
The slipper is on the kitchen tile. I jump, leap, my orange and white girth flying playfully through the air, and plop my front paws into the toe of the slipper. With my momentum, the slipper and I slide across the tile four feet to the other side of the kitchen (it's a small kitchen.) After some maneuvering disguised as torturing, I can flip the slipper back pointing the other direction.
And the cycle continues, as long as the people downstairs don't hear me. If I could go out and romp with the crows and baby alligators I wouldn't need to reduce myself to frolicking with footwear, but I like to think of myself as the Anne Frank of Cat Blogs. And in the annex, hidden from the super and the nosy old neighbors, I must keep my mind limber with slipper surfing.
Surf, slip, pounce, with paws tightly coordinated into the front of the slipper. It's claw-extendingly fun.
And she wonders why her slippers are never where she left them in the morning.

Hassie

2004-04-16T15:26:00.000-04:00

One reason why cats are superior than you humans.
Porn, Porn, Porn. If you were a cat you wouldn't need that nonsense. Forget a condom one day, and die the other. One reason why we have nine lives.
I couldn't resist, I had to tell my owner's fellow humans why they're inferior.

My owner is about to vomit as she reads this, but this is one reason why we cats are superior than humans: we don't have to worry about p--n and whatnot. We only get in heat once or twice a year, do the pooky, and thats it. Cats don't masturbate, think about sex, or anything. Why don't humans give up their entertainment for the easy life--watching birds and dreaming of the ol' days? Its Man's own fault that he has to film intricate sexual scenes to please some middleaged impotent ol' f***s while he gains weight, infects his fellow man and makes a mess of it all. Who made you dastardly humans this way? Your G-D? Really, you guys. If I were a human, I'd pray to die soon and reincarnate into a cat. Live the easy life!

2004-04-12T14:49:00.001-04:00

Hello dear readers.

This is Guest-cat "Hassie." I'll be contributing from my home, locked up inside a no-cat community of old, crankety people in southern Florida. I'm also known as Hass Hess Hassifer, also known as Hassenfeffer, to my humans. Their daughter calls me A Big Orange Belvedere of a Cat (I think it has some reference to one of the many television shows she has thoroughly rotted her brain upon) and Hasselblaad. I don't like any of these names much, to be honest. I prefer the name that got me into this world and that will surely carry me out, the name no human has the vocal capacities to speak. But Hassie will suffice.

I don't like any of their names either. "Cinna Bunny Q Tips"? Stoners should not be allowed to "have" cats. Dogs, perhaps. Pomeranians, definitely.

And the all caps submission of the name "GUNNAR"? Makes me think of some 40-year-old double-wide living trailer trash lady shouting, in that monotone voice kindergarteners use for school plays when they are both trying to remember their lines so hard that they have little energy left over for tone, and trying to shout over the sound of the out-of-tune upright Yamaha piano. Ah, GUNNAR: "THOUGHT THIS CAN COULD SURLY STICK UP FOR HIMSELF WITH A NAME LIKE THAT." Uh, I mean CAT! Not CAN! OOPS!

I'm going to go eat a bookmark and rest my weary paws from patting upon these dreadfully widgy little keys.

~Hassie, the Orange Wonder of Deerfield Beach, Florida

2004-04-11T10:45:00.000-04:00

That old fat cat is now going on a hunger strike. Being unable to clean himself because of his senile owner's tendency to spoil him is unfair. Hope he becomes slim like me.
Is there really such thing as a 'people cat'? Well Dino is one of them. I wouldn't put my arms around you and put my head on your shoulder voluntarily in a million years! I would rather sleep and eat, sleep and eat...

Only groomers get cat scrath fever. You pay 50$ for your vaccination against it. Maybe we ought to grow our claws back just for you.

Letters from a dog to his owner about the odiousness of cats.

Before the cat's arrival, meals were very festive times. I would sit and stare attentively at your lips, trembling slightly and drooling. You would play the game of pretending to be cross and demand that I leave the area, but whenever you cooked dinner your children would slip me food under the table.

Now, though, the cat is allowed to jump on the table - actually physically walk on the table! You don't yell at the cat, you just pick her up and put her back on the floor, and I know you don't see it, but she always gives me a haughty look as she walks past me.

Pampered Cat seeks new owner to pamper him. His 75 pound owner died recently leaving him and fourteen other cats behind. The owner never married or had kids. We were her babies. Damn. I wish I have that kind of life; roast chicken, having teeth polished, indoor life. But I live the real gritty life of a cat.

2004-04-08T15:54:00.000-04:00

As if housecats aren't big enough. This serval cat, worth precise 6500 dollars more than the average feline is a disgrace to our egoes. See that picture? That cat looks awfully dumb to be smiling. He looks like a nightmare version of Harvey. And the darn kitty is 50 pounds! You can't cuddle him without a chance of having a stroke (if you're an average human).

We felines go with you humans way back. How come we aren't your best friend unlike your dogs. Hiss!

Don't lose hope! We aren't that cold. Once you offer us food and shelter, we never let go. But if you conspire in beating us, we will have to declaw, neuter, and scratch you to death one of these days. Home is still home.

2004-04-08T02:22:00.000-04:00

Meows make all the difference!

How would you like to live in a place with 50 other humans with nearly half of them pregnant? I wouldn't, with fifty other cats. Especially with filth. When you hear the golden rule, do not only apply it to other humans, do it for all of G-D's creatures, please.

You have some humans who still dine on felines and the day will come when we order you a la carte off the menu.
And the day shall come when we cats run in to save our owners.
A turkey crashes through a window, and of course the first scapegoat to enter the man's mind is of course, the cat. Well maybe one of these days, I shall send one of my own to crash through that window to pay that ignorant man a visit.
When cats become mascots, they may also be named 'Pippi, the one-eyed cat'.

2004-04-08T02:08:00.000-04:00

Animal lovers pack hearing over proposed pet food tax. Humans are now forced to pay extra money for our food to decrease our over population. But on the other hand, it inconveniences the humans financially. As long as I am fed, I could care less. But if this reduces the amount of food, I am worried. It pains me to hear of kittens being destroyed just so I could comfortably eat more my share of food. The more I eat, the more kittens are destroyed. The less I eat, the more births are prevented. I rather lose a few pounds and not think about humans killing cats.

2004-04-07T11:37:00.000-04:00

Who said we cats don't like travel? As long as we're ignorant about it, we don't care. Morag, the Scottish kitten didn't mind until she was taken in by humans. She looks frankly miserable in that photograph. Maybe she was miserable. I have to sniff her to find out.
I shall take a strike against humans today. Whoever scratches my path shall be pissed, spat, and hissed upon. So don't be unlucky! Stay away! The reason? Because some evil humans have set one of our own on fire!
Additional scratches for blowing a dart into a cat's eye. I shall track that person down and when he's asleep, scratch his face off.
If only more of us could talk. I can only type. One of us is put under surgery to remove a piece of glass from his neck.

Was he trying to catch a rodent? Was there some remnant of a tasty treat there? Only the cat knows and he's not talking.

Williams speculates the cat was after a rat and simply got caught. If the jar was indeed intact, she further assumes the cat banged it against something, breaking it in an attempt to free himself.

He was only partially successful, though. For several months, the ring of the jar and a jagged portion of the jar remained around the cat's neck, forcing him to hold his head at an upward angle.

It also isn't known why he finally went into the trap, but it did happen. Johnson found him a few hours later and took him to a local veterinary clinic, where he was anesthetized and freed from his misery.

Old Yellow also was neutered during the experience.

Old Yellow. What a degrading name. I shall call my owner Fat Red from now on. Oh if only I could talk.

Maybe the Chinese are one of the few who care for us. I wouldn't scratch him a bit.

2004-04-07T11:16:00.000-04:00

Who said Cats don't make good coffee? You better check your litterbox because you're in for a treat!

Another one's trash is another's treasure. Think twice before you pitch another feline. Meow!
Charley Reese is a cat lover. What a gal! She said she would rather catch 1000 feral felines than bring democracy to foolish Dhimmi humans. If I were a human, I'd be mighty offended. But as a cat, I'm purring with pleasure.
Humans are so sumptious and fascinating to watch we cats have sent our cousins, the cougars to move in and spy on you. We're tired of having to live in the wild. Why not be annoying roomates and occasionally enjoy a hearty meal. It is easy. We see you more than you see us.
And then for you cat fanciers, there is a cat show coming to town. Are you sure we enjoy it? Being dolled up in dolly clothes? How cute! you may squeal. Well those cats deserve it in a way. They're not smart like me to run away when they see a pudgy childless cat fancier armed with wet cat food and catnip. Bah!
Purrr! Adopt one of us!

2004-04-07T01:50:00.000-04:00

No wonder you humans are foolish!

As for the cat? He finished off the mice of Schilda and went on his way, wondering at the foolishness of human beings.

Its cute how humans are so unoriginal they decide to be amazed at our intellect. Why not have us cats enjoy a television programme featuring humans? I rather enjoy the daily amusements of human life. It would be greater if it were broadcast--sounds familiar--television. Of course, I am forced to howl outside while my owner has her fatty dinner in front of the telly. If only we had more privileges...
Are we now being forced to have licenses? Really now. How about all those hookers on the street--shouldn't they be forced to have breeding licenses? If only I had more power, I would stage a protest!
What a hypocrite I am--for I am fixed--I have just noticed yesterday during my ritual bath.
And for those loose enough to have more than one litter...
Sibling rivalry is amusing Ms. Linda Goldston?. Is it amusing when you never see your brother or sister again because your owner sells them for a d**m 1000$? Cats have feelings too, you know.
And this columnist suggests our owners ignore us when we are cold outside and hungry. At least we train our dear owner to get off their asses each morning for work! God, they're ungrateful.

"Ignoring it would be the best thing," agrees Katherine Houpt, head of the animal behavior

'Animal Behaviour Clinic'? As if our lifestyles are a scientific study or disease? Just like they have AIDs clinics. When we cats mature evolution-wise, shall we study your behaviour, dear humans?
Shall I claw you and put you under my microscope and gawk at the way you walk or eat?
I've got one word: MEOW!

2004-04-06T22:51:00.000-04:00

I am a slim nine pounds. There are many fatties among us. Its our shame because our damn owners think we're their 'cutie pies' and since they rescued us when we were mere kittens, they think us eternally starving. Well think again. Although I may howl my owner's eardrums out, I am normally hungry, not abnormally hungry.

A German cat weighing six times the normal weight is so fat that it cannot take more than four steps without getting exhausted.

Those silly Germans. And they also have a human cannibal who over six months still cannot get enough meat. Thankfully they did not regress to eating cats like they used to eat cats. Meow!
Well, we cats have survived for a long time. When you foolish humans killed us and our children in the black plague because of those damn rats, you were wrong. And you have your thugs shoot us up and yet we still survive. One word: We told you so.

2004-04-05T13:56:00.000-04:00

I scratched her gently, I howled, and I went to the bathroom. She still did not get up. She stayed up late the previous night at a rally for her holy saviour Kerry. I don't understand why he matters more than I. Haven't I always been there for her? When she breaks up with boyfriends, I'm the one to cuddle her. When she cries, I dry her tears with my soft fur. All I ask is to be fed, and accomodated. But no. I'm lucky if I do eat. She hates the smell of tuna. Yech, I prefer that special chicken and rice can she feeds me twice a week. The tuna is cheaper for a reason--to starve us cats.

I'm five years old. My rat days are nearly over so I still need food. When she has parties, I try my very best not to urinate on her family furniture. Its so noisy and the lawns are all full, and due to the soft relieving cloth, I can't help it. Her guests take me by the tail and swing me across the fence. Its six hours until I forgive her and return home. My stench will be there for weeks to come, but she deserves it.