I was enjoying my day’s first siesta on a warm sofa spot with my two-legger. She was employed in some unimportant task and nestled by my side, when the doorbell rang. I stirred in protest as my two-legger rose to attend to the intrusion. I thought I had trained her well enough to know that strangers are not welcome – rather they are FORBIDDEN – during nap time. But instead of my two-legger turning the hopeful at the door away in hushed tones as she should have, she issued an enormous whoop and welcome for the uninvited visitor (as if the doorbell hadn’t disturbed me enough).

Not Amused (Photo by Clint Gardner)

Before I had a moment to process that my very own two-legger had betrayed me by allowing a stranger into my sleepy boudoir, I was unceremoniously jerked into an unknown lap. All this without so much as a “by-your-leave”. But that was not the end of it – soon after I was betrayed and woken, I proceeded to suffer the indignities of rough and inexperienced petting, the details of which I cannot bear to describe. The miscreant guest smelled like canine and mauled like the worst possible two-legger a cat might cross paths with at the best of times – and this, as you may have gathered, was not the best of times.

I did what any such assaulted feline would do: I inserted the claws as far as possible into the offender’s lap, allowing myself to escape during his yelping. As I seethed in my secret hiding place (upstairs) I thought about all the things I should have, could have said to him in the heat of the moment to properly repay him for his behaviour. As I’m sure you have experienced, I found myself full of appropriately livid responses after the opportunity had passed.

I write this in warning to that canine-smelling creature that dared disturb my slumber, and others like him, if such exist. I expect villains like him travel in packs and dwell in some shadowy hideout, far away from the long arm of the law. If ever he or his kind dare(s) to casually “drop by” as happened today, I will be ready to deliver justice, on behalf of all rudely-awakened felines. I assure you that next time, I will be prepared to punish the fellow mercilessly, as is his due. Until then, I wait and prowl.

~FFR

A Withering Look From a Feline is a Force to be Reckoned With - Photo by Eva

I will not stand the denial my rightful shower of love by that unimpressive pseudo-deity they call “the clock”. At its unspoken command, my two-legger appears to be engaging in a face-off with the blogger machine. As her sole proprietor and role model, I believe the task to detach her inferior claws from the clickety-clack at the blogger falls upon my sleek and lustrous shoulders. She must be reminded, yet again, of her duties to me, and that there are now sunny spots aplenty to cuddle me in.

I will make this two-legger led astray an offer she cannot refuse. I will station myself in all my feline glory in front of her blogger screen and pontificate at length about the evils of not preening oneself many times a day. My divine apparition will demonstrate all she is missing by ignoring me. I would not invest in the education of most two-leggers. Between daily preens and sleeps there are only so many hours in a day for such philanthropy; I must admit, however, a minor chink in my goddessy armour: I do have a soft spot for this one.

This week’s word:  Mom

Mom: This is not a word that we felines use, except with the feline that conceived us, washed us and fed us, in those first few days of life.  My two-legger refers to herself as my Mom, which leads me to believe that Moms are the creatures that feed us and respond to our every whim.  I refer to my two-legger as my servant, so maybe Moms are that, only I get a feeling that there is something more. Really hate to admit it, for fear that it will get my two-legger to big for her bridges, but I do believe that something more is Love.

‘My two-legger is somewhat of an exceptional Mom, as she acts as a wonderful heating blanket every night (only someone should really tell her that to be a blanket, she shouldn’t move), she cuts me up the succulent green little tree-like things, and she’s always there for a hug when I need one.’

My 'Mom' in all of cuddliness. Someone just needs to tell the silly two-legger next to her to move on. Those are my hugs.

~FFR

Suppose I should have posted this on a Sunday or on the Sabbath, but in reality this is the kind of religion I celebrate daily (mainly by mauling Fuzzywiggle Furrypants with hugs and kisses).

Too cute!  Hopefully it’ll inspire her to get back to her writing.

Cross-posted from hummingbird604

This week’s word:  Blogathon

Blogathon: A day that confirms the fact that two-leggers are far below the feline on the evolutionary ladder and really not all that bright.For some reason, these two-leggers spend an entire sunny summer Saturday blogging. One new post every half hour.

‘My two-legger often makes me meow in aspiration, but at least she was not as silly as Raul to join a blogathon and spend a sunny writing a new post every half hour. There is hope for her yet. Now a sleepathon with a cat nap in a new sunny spot every half hour I can totally understand. Also totally get a birdathon, where every half hour we swat a new bird out of the air, especially the little ones that humm incessantly.’

Enjoying myself today on a sleepathon, whilst the insane two-leggers run frazzled on their blogathon.

~FFR

So this week’s word:  Dalliance

Dalliance: The silly, totally frivolous and often trifling activities that two-leggers get up to in the Spring and Summer, most of the time with amorous intentions in mind.

‘My two-legger is usually quite an intelligent creature (well as far as two-leggers go), but when this involves dalliance I have to close my eyes and ears to avoid witnessing the disaster that ensues. Does she not understand as a female (the superior sex, of course) that she should lay back and let the male two-legger perform the dalliance? They do after all seem to enjoy the chase. And then she’d end up with less egg on her face when its all said and done.’

One alley cat that is often doing acts of dalliance to catch my eye.

FFR

So this week’s word:  Hankering

Hankering: A yearning or longing, like the kind that happens in the pants of a two-legged male during the Spring.

‘Two-Legger, Lord Likely’s pants often display the signs of a hankering and not only in the Spring.  Based on the strut that Lord Likely has around my two-legger. I’d say he has a hankering for her, but then again he struts like that around all female two-leggers.’

Right now I have a hankering to give my two-legger a cuddle, especially since she's upset over her Mom. Hate seeing her upset. Photo by Lola May.

Cacophony: A mix of sounds so horrendous that they cause us felines to yowl and hide.

‘Some two-leggers think that the feline mating ritual causes a cacophony.  Admittedly, I do know a few Tom Cats that are quite boisterous in their singing, but if the two-leggers were smart enough to understand feline, then they’d realize that really this is beautiful love duet that is being sung.’

Baby two-leggers have a tendency to create a cacophony. Picture by Adrian Donatien

FFR