Dogster

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From the Litterbox

Well, well... another triumph for the retriever. If not for him, my campaign to be noticed by catster.com would not have happened... my wit in previous posts requesting "cat of the week" status had gone unnoticed until I wrote about this redheaded canine that stalks my perch above the kitchen cabinets. I'll accept "cat diary of the day," although the mention won't be the highlight of my life's resume. No, that will come when the dogs are rid of my house. I was in the litterbox yesterday and through the cat flap came a big, wet, black nose attached to one big, wet, stinky Golden. I wonder if his privacy would be compromised similarly if I just stood in front of him along the fence out back while he unloads another helping of digested Iams. He'd probably chase me, trailing his remains behind him, and all indication of his intelligence would lead me to no other hypothesis. Five ran out the back door for an overnight in the neighborhood, worrying his owner, but she's not aware of the secret mission of this young cat to gather other neighborhood creatures to attack and scratch Charlie until he begs for a shelter. The mission continues...

Another dog... the plot thickens...

I haven't posted in quite a while as I was content that my owner, Brian, was intent on not acquiring a dog. Years of serum injected to wave away any "pro-dog" adoptions have stopped working... and, therefore, Charley, a golden retriever has arrived. I have taken it upon myself in recent days to make "friends" with the filthy beast, in an effort to confuse to animal in to believing I am submissive, when all the while I am thinking of ways to poison his water. The other cats—Saki and Five—have settled on the beagle, Diamond, deeming her harmless and naive in her own right. The retriever is untested. The Cats will be meeting again after midnight to discuss the predicament, and next steps to re-establishing a humble home for us felines. I must stop typing now as my paw is sore from the deposit of one forefinger claw in the retriever's nose... I'm afraid, however, he will never learn...

Cat of the Week crusade and baths

It's been a while since I was last able to use the computer, so I'm adding another entry. Usually the humans are at the machine and I can't write until the wee hours of the night, and at that point I'm either digging leftovers out of the trash or sleeping.

I'm not very happy with my cat-of-the-week situation. I still believe I am the most handsome and charming of all the Caster cats, but, alas, I haven't been picked. I see some scrawny, screaming kitten was chosen before me a few weeks ago, but not me. I need to rectify the situation, so I am going to add a gorgeous picture of me eating catnip.

(It's hard to say "picture" without spontaneously purring at the end.)

In darker news, I got a bath the other day. I was very sad. I thought I was being a good cat and everything, but apparently I haven't been loving my owner enough or else he wouldn't have doused me with shampoo. (He said something about seeing a flea on me, but I don't believe him as I am quite the groomer.) I decided afterward to sit on him lap to dry off, and everything he whispered something in my ear I tried to shiver just a little harder than before to let him know how much suffering I was experiencing. Granted, I don't itch now and I smell great and I'm really soft, but I can clean myself, thank you very much. I've spent much more time with him and haven't had a bath since, so perhaps (there's another word... purrrrhaps) I won't be spending any more time in the tub.