A Cat's Life

After weeks of prowling the kitchen and dining area (and missing out on cuddling...erm, protecting my people...I finally caught the damn mouse!!

*I* knew the sneaky, conniving, food stealing future meal was down there, and my people *thought* there must be something given my stalking about; and finally tonight.......

I REIGN VICTORIOUS ONCE AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

After a final pounce and capture in the kitchen, I proceeded out to the living room to be praised for my prowess; but my mom followed me from the other side of the kitchen and came up behind me.

Mom: "OH MY GOD! Hobbes has a mouse! Do something!"

Dad: "What am *I* supposed to do?" (Dad's never been around cats and their small prey. He thought Mom wanted him to just pick it up by the tail!) But he did successfully prevent me from dropping the mouse too soon or dashing up the stairs where I surely would have played with my prisoner a bit more.

Mom ran screeching back to the kitchen and came back with a plastic shopping bag already on her hand. In one swift motion, after I had reliquished the mouse to his inevitable final capture, Mom swooped down and closed her hand around it. In one motion she brought the bag up around her hand and the mouse, and vwaaalaaaaa! one tired mouse in a bag!!

*I should totally market this concept...cats everywhere will eat it up! Haha, eat it up...get it??*

Anyway, Dad took over from there. He took the mouse out for a smoke...well, the mouse didn't smoke, Dad did! Mom didn't want to know what happened after the mouse left her sight...and all I cared about was that I received some yummy treats...erm, my reward for being the best mouser in the world!

Fine...the female person I live with *insists* on referring to herself as mommy or something along those lines. Whatever. I'll humor her, I suppose.

So, *mom* put up this fake Christmas tree the day after Thanksgiving...she did an okay job on it, but I wasn't all that happy with it. I gave it a while to see if it would grow on me but something wasn't quite right about it. I finally had to take matters into my own paws and knocked it over last night just before she was off to her first training for her new part-time job. I waited until she went into the kitchen then somehow managed to knocked the TV tray over which spilled the tree all over the floor.

*meows and looks pleased with himself*

She yelled at first, so I hightailed it upstairs; but then I heard her say it was just an accident and it would be okay. Accident, my paw...I wanted a different look to the tree. Besides she *loves* to decorate Christmas trees, and I don't think she minded all *that* much. She finished it this evening and it looks much better now. I'm not sure she had to threaten to make me into fuzzy slippers though if I touched the tree again! That was a bit harsh in my opinion. I *like* the tree now, so I have no reason to knock it over again.

Unless I decide I want it to look different again.


In other news...it snowed here. At least that's what mom called it when she nearly shoved my head through the blinds yesterday morning so I could look at all this white stuff on the ground. I'll grudgingly admit it was somewhat pretty and white, but after a few minutes it got old. Oh, and this was *after* she came tearing up the stairs shrieking about snow...at 5:15 in the morning!!!

5:15!

Dad (the male person has the same issues with names as the female one does) and I were sound asleep on the bed and did *not* appreciate being woken up with such caterwalling. If I hadn't jumped up with lightening reflexes, she'd have landed on me when she leaped on the bed. I won't say whether or not I watched the snow all day after the people left....

That's it for now. Nap time! And mom is anxious to use the computer. I think she's addicted or something. *rolls eyes* At least *I* know how to pace myself online!

Right. So this one human that lives with me...the female one...comes home today all excited because she bought some weather stripping for the doors downstairs. I say it's about time those cracks are sealed up since it gets cold here during the day. While I'm quite accomodating and easy going for the most part, I prefer to stay comfortably warm in my home.

She does a rather excellent job of taking care of me, I must say. I've had her since I was about 8 weeks old (and I'm 6 years old now) ...I allowed her to give me her own, everyday name for me. I've never told her of my special name that only I have, nor will I *ever* reveal my true cat name. For all intents and purposes, I am Hobbes...among various, rather embarassing nicknames that she insists on calling me. However, I put up with my female person's oddities because I've discovered that it makes her happy...and if *she's* happy then I usually get what I want out of life. You can't beat that sweet deal!

I've also recently taken in another human...a male person this time. My female wanted a mate, so there's that whole "make her happy make my life that much better" thing going on. It did take me awhile to get used to the male human, but now he's mine, too. I mean he plays with me, gives me a great deal of attention (that's double the petting now.....purr!!), and feeds me bits of cooked animal flesh from his plate at dinner. The female tells him after I've had a few morsels that my arteries are going to harden or something...but whatever, I've got eight more lives after this. That's a heck of a lot of bits of animal flesh to sample! I tried to get a jump start on the dinner snacks this evening by jumping up on the male's TV tray in the living room--they've taken to eating in front of the TV now on the couch, which is fine by me. I can get up closer to the food now!)--but all he did was try to take a bite out of me after he called the female in to see how cute I was or something. Whatever. I just wanted to be first in line for dinner snacks.

My people have names, too...at least I think they do. The female usually calls herself "Mommy", but if you ask me, that's a mighty strange name for a human. And when she talks about the male person, she says "Daddy". Again...strange!! Pretty much I don't call them anything...I just meow or look cute or sad or hungry, and they do things for me. It's a sweet deal. I should probably name them myself since they can't seem to come up with very original names for themselves. They should totally be more like cats...we're awesome at naming ourselves. The Jellicle cats can tell you all about it if you ever come upon one.

Anyway, time for a nap or at least a rest.

*sets up carpeted tower, snuggly fake lambs wool bed, dishes and food, plenty of fresh water, and spreads toys all over the floor*

Much better...I *am* a cat after all!