Kidnapped By Freaks

Yesterday...

2006-07-21T05:54:00.000-07:00

...all my troubles seemed so in my face.

It was a tough, cranky day. There is a situation with birds coming to the balcony. If I go into too much detail, I'll just get agitated and I really need to calm down right now. On top of that problem, which has been going on all week, I had visitors yesterday. It's not a secret that I have no particular affection for small children. I'm honest about my feelings, and I suppose Molly was just being honest when she called me "evil" repeatedly last evening while she was a guest in my home. Kari and Brandon were over, too, but Kari is tolerable and Brandon is mildly interesting. Finally, Molly left and it was getting dark. I thought there would be peace at last in my furry life. I settled into the chair by the TV, took a bath, and fell asleep.

Then Bethany showed up. The girl refuses to get a clue. She thinks she can go to college and save the world, but she can't understand why she and I don't click. Well, sweetheart, you come on too strong. Ha, the truth is that she could come on at any strength and I would still hate her. She just keeps getting her heart broken. It's the beauty of my allure.

Then Crazy Nana showed up. I'm thinking, It's after midnight, people! I thought they might take Katie with them when they left, but no such luck...

Today better be a quiet day or I will have a furry nervous breakdown.

Three's a crowd

2006-07-17T06:17:00.000-07:00

She's back in the bed and it's crowded. I don't know why he let her come back. We were doing great with her sleeping in the living room. I could spend the day out there with her and the night in the bedroom, sleeping with a man, like God intended. I know I spent a couple nights sleeping in the dirty clothes, but I'm fickle. Andy knows that. He should've known I'd be back. It wasn't necessary to bring the woman back. This morning, she was irked at me because allegedly I took up all her leg room. It somehow got by her that it was she in fact who was taking up MY space in MY bed. Why did Scott leave me with such simple people?

"Attachment" Parenting

2006-07-03T17:40:00.000-07:00

Katie saw this practice called "attachment parenting" on "The L Word," and now she thinks that the way she behaves is legitimate. The constant holding is apparently about keeping the baby in contact with a body at all times, and the idea that I have no bed of my own is part of this concept. I fail to understand the point, though. In all the excitement, Katie, with her two college degrees, overlooked the fact that Bette and Tina have a child and she has a cat. Children belong to parents, but cats belong to themselves. No amount of "attachment" exercises will make Katie my parent. If anything, she belongs to me. Who makes the rules? Who dictates where we sleep, when we eat, and how much touching happens? Me, me, me.

Banana Popsicles

2006-03-30T10:43:00.000-08:00

Last night, I discovered yet another layer to my ever-evolving soul—which is there, by the way. Apparently, I like banana popsicles. Katie was eating (or, rather, licking—my specialty) on one, and I thought it smelled interesting. When she turned her back, I went in for a taste. It was cold, but it was gooood. She laughed and I gave her my look. She said, "Apparently, you like banana popsicles." And I said, "Apparently." Then she said, "Apparently" again, this time like Susan from "Coupling." She's been doing that lately. They both have.

Per usual, woe is me.

2006-03-24T18:39:00.000-08:00

Here is my latest list of grievances. It's cold every single time I go outside so I suppose Katie is controlling the weather now, too. Katie's mouth is better so she can sing again. Basketball is on all the time and sometimes it's loud and hard to sleep through. I got stepped on a couple mornings ago and, of course, no one cares. Bethany came over last weekend and totally objectified me. I have a giant clump in my curly belly fur and Katie is after it like it's the last Coney dog left on Earth.

On the bright side, tonight was the season finale of "Living With Fran" so I guess I won't have to watch that anymore for awhile, and they still haven't found where I hid the comb and the scissors.

Through it all, I remain irresistably adorable. It is my curse.

Cat on the Run

2006-03-07T14:36:00.000-08:00

I have clumps, and I am on the run from the crazy woman with the scissors and the conditioner—both of which are "for my own good," of course. This may be my last blog for awhile.

Birthday Smirthday

2006-02-21T20:50:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was Andy's birthday and tonight I found myself attacking the gift bag I had used for his present. Of course, I don't have a birthday and so I don't really know how these things work. Katie had to help with the whole gift thing. I was also hindered by my lack of funds, my lack of transportation, and the fact that I just don't care at all about anything but sauce and clean litter and nap time. So I decided to give him a photo of myself for his birthday. He liked it, I think. Of course, he "forgot" to take it with him today when he went to the Sentinel. It was supposed to be for his desk. Oh well. Like I said, I don't understand birthdays. So I attacked the bag.

Feeling Delightfully Evil Today

2006-02-07T14:50:00.000-08:00

Katie and I have been cohabitating for a year and a half now, and 9:30 this morning was the first time I ever wanted to sit on her lap. Of course, she was getting ready to leave for work and the only reason she sat down on the couch was to put on her shoes. I jumped up next to her and rubbed my head against her leg. She patted me on the head, but I wanted more. I climbed on to her lap and then the whining began. "Why now, Sachen?" she moaned. "You don't love me. You never want to sit on my lap. Ever. Why now?" She was right. I don't love her. I just wanted to ensure that she has a rotten day since I have to be all alone in this stupid apartment all day. I gave her the guilt eyes as she left, just to seal the deal.

Yay Steelers

2006-02-06T00:42:00.000-08:00

Maybe Scott will read this and know that I haven't forgotten where and whom I come from. They let me watch the end of the Superbowl so they're not entirely evil, I suppose.

I found myself in Alan Shore

2006-01-29T01:30:00.000-08:00

Sachen moment from "Boston Legal"...
Denise: I thought you liked being alone.
Alan: I love being alone. I just prefer to be alone when there are other people around.

Big News

2006-01-26T22:00:00.000-08:00

I have decided to make both the chairs in the living room my own so that there is a greater chance that they will go out into the world with cat fur on their butts.

Happy 2006, I guess

2006-01-01T18:09:00.000-08:00

It was one year ago today that my old dad—my real dad, Scott—married my arch-nemisis. I began 2005 asleep in bed with Katie and began 2006 the same way. No hangover this time, though; Katie was good this year. If I were the reflecting type, I might talk about what kind of a year I've had—about my new food bowl, about how I discovered that the toilet provides a constantly replenishing supply of cold water, about watching "Star Trek" with Andy, about how the sauce came into my life in 2005, about how I got my butt fur shaved off at the vet, among other things. It was quite a year, you know. But I am a live-in-the-moment kind of guy. The truth is that the passage of time means very little to me since my life is marked by alternating periods of eating, sleeping, and pooping, and my age moves more rapidly that the human calendar year anyway. So, just as with everything else, I do not care at all that it is 2006 now.

Pretty Kitty

2005-12-26T19:45:00.000-08:00

The chair is mine, the mess is not.

My Story (Part I)

2005-12-26T16:30:00.000-08:00

First, I lived alone, on the streets. Then, I lived with this guy who was cool but gave me this silly German name, Sachen. It means "things." I tried to protest but he pretended like he couldn't understand me. So you can see that I began domestic life on the wrong paw, so to speak. Well, this character—I'll call him Scott to protect his identity—and I spent some good years together. He hooked me up with some fancy litter and some top-of-the-line eats, too. Then there was HER. I'll call her Sarah because that's her name. We don't get along, probably because I'm prettier than she is. There was only room for one of us in Scott's life so he found me somewhere else to live. Let me tell you about these people. There were four of them: one perfectly normal guy and three ridiculous women who all seemed to have at least three pairs of lips. I'm just one guy! They were all over me like I was gin at an AA meeting. And it wasn't just my fur they were after. Everything about my daily habits fascinated them. Even the most private moments (if you catch my drift) were subject to their scrutiny. The first time I stretched myself out on the carpet to take a bath, there was suddenly a circle around me, looking down with big eyes and shrieks of "Curly belly fur!!!!" Custer has nothing on me; at least he got to die. I had to exist in that environment for almost an entire year. My only reprieve was when they went shopping, which seemed to be their second-favorite pasttime. During these times, I would sit on the couch with the one they called Dad and we would watch "West Wing" and Clint Eastwood movies. No fervent petting, just an occasional head-stratch when I needed one.

I'm not ungrateful. The place Scott found for me was good. They had (drum roll, please) four beds! That's four more than I had at Scott's place. And there was a big dining room table in front of a window so I could stretch out and look outside. They gave me food whenever I even thought about being hungry and they changed my litter very diligently. Of course, I would never tell them that I was satisfied with their performance.

I guess I was supposed to belong to just one of them—Katie, who lived upstairs, far away from my food bowl. When it became clear that Scott was not coming back for me, she took me and moved in with some boy.

Finally

2005-12-26T16:00:00.000-08:00

Finally, I have some time with the laptop. You know, the desktop models are just awkward.

Finally, I have my own space, even if it's just intangible, Internet space. It can be more crowded than this 948 square foot apartment we're supposed to "share" like a family. Or that postage stamp sized bed they expect me to let them sleep in. Just to prove that I am a fair-minded individual, I will reveal that I have my own chair. I will post a photo of it when I get one in which my eyes are not glowing yellow.

Finally, I can tell the world about my plight. I don't have to suffer in silence any longer. But, first, how cute am I with my Christmas catnip?