Monday, November 28, 2005

Dear Santa

I heard my mom mention to someone the other day that Santa arrived at the local mall just after Halloween this year (duh, mom...what else does this guy have going on?).

I know what Santa's arrival means! It's only a matter of days until she suggests we write our annual letter to Santa, so I think I had better get a jump on it.


My Letter to Santa (with subliminal undertones)

Dear Santa (big, fat loser),

I have been a very good Empress this year (barring the countless bar fights and two unjust arrests for indecent exposure. First off, cats do not, as a rule, wear clothes and secondly, I'm starting to get my life back on track after my stint in rehab. Alcohol=BAD for me), as I am sure you have keenly observed. While there have been many things for which I have received blame (mostly false accusations made by my brother, Brach), I am confident you understand that I am innocent and will reward me justly.

Let's cut the crap and get to the meat of this letter:

My Christmas List


Of course, if you have trouble finding any of the items on the list (which you would only have trouble if you are too stupid to click the links--I made it easy for you this year, pops), please let me know. I am more than happy to help you (fulfill my materialistic desires).

Season's Greetings,
The Empress

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Happy Thanksgiving!

My mom and I made hand turkeys today to prepare for Thanksgiving. Take a look!

This is mom's. She lazily downloaded hers from Google. (Lame...)





I created mine myself! It's far more realistic!

Monday, November 21, 2005

Anonymous Emailer

I received a troubling email this weekend from someone calling himself "Anonymous." Take a look at the email--the enclosed photo reminded me of NO ONE I KNOW THAT LIVES WITH ME (saute that last bit with buttery garlic and sarcasm). Typically, I ignore criticism from anonymous sources, but since this lil' guy was thoughtful enough to include a photo (albeit disguised), I feel I should respond.

Any ideas?



Dear Kukka-Maria,

I have some grievances to air:

  • You snore!
  • You are mean and bossy! Be nice to others.
  • Bury your waste better in the litter box. Your brother shouldn't have to surf over your turds when he does his business.
  • Wait for your turn at the food bowl--patience is a virtue.
Please deal with these issues so the rest of the house does not have to.

On a positive note, though, you are a good treat-getter. Keep it up, sister STRANGER!

Signed,
Anonymous

Friday, November 18, 2005

Interspecies Love

Dear Mojo the Dog,

I have been fighting my feelings for some time now, but I feel today is the day I must tell you I love you.

I remember the first time we met. You bounded into my home, completely unaware that I was standing on the other side of the doorway with my back arched and hissing. The look on your face was adorable as you recognized the threat and scrambled to get as far away from me as you could.

Later that same night, I'll never forget how sexy you looked from behind as I chased you through the living room. When the chase ended with you running into a wall, I said to myself, "I will never forget how cute he looks at this very moment." You looked at me, eyes rolling to the back of your head, and I was smitten!

I know that a relationship like ours will have challenges--both internal and external.

I have several concerns. For one, I will never understand why you find it socially acceptable to potty in public. I've offered you my covered litterbox, but you refuse to use it for anything but a dinner plate. That brings me to my next point: What is it that causes you to crave the taste of my feces? You are one kinky bastard, Mojo...one kinky bastard!

Darling, while I think you to be noble, I have to admit that the fact you are not of royal descent is of concern to me. While I do not consider myself a snob, I do think I'm better than most creatures and do not like to associate with commoners (it's bad enough I live with a human woman and an adopted feline brother who has no idea who his birth parents are). And before you bring up the fact that I'm an EXILED Empress, check yourself. I still have the breeding and, if I can find my way back to my empire, I'll regain my title. You know something? I'm not sure I like your defensive attitude around this. This is definitely a "red flag" for me and could possibly blow up into a larger issue down the road. For now, though, I am going to ignore the entire breeding issue because you're too damn cute!

As for the external challenges? I know we will never be free to walk the streets, hand in hand, in peace. First, I don't know that we have the hind-leg strength to walk long distances on back twos and I also don't think we could really grasp one another's front paws due to our opposable thumb deficit. Secondly, I don't know that I can handle the critical stares from outsiders who judge our love.

I can almost hear them now:
"A cat and dog? There is something un-GOD-ly about that! Cover the children's eyes!"

Mojo, I watch TV and read the papers. I know how this country feels about same-sex marriage...I can only imagine the challenges we would have as an inter-species couple. I don't know if I'm strong enough to deal with that.

And what of our offspring? I don't want our litter of kit-pups dealing with the incessant teasing from their peers at the park or on the dog walk. I know we will do an amazing job of instilling solid self-worth and confidence into our litter(s), but that will only take them so far. Even the strongest get beat down at times.

I'm afraid our love could never be, Mojo. I don't know that it is strong enough to carry us through.

Know, my darling, that when you come to my house and you see me across the room with my back arched, I am trying to burn my love into you with my intense stare. I will be wishing that the world will someday change and we will be free to love.

Until that day, you have my heart.

Lustfully,
The Empress

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

Open Letter to my Agent, Vol 1

Dear Selfish,

There are a couple of things I need to share with you. I keep giving you glaringly obvious clues, but you seem to be a bit dim, so...

Let me spell things out for you:

  • When I am sound asleep between your ankles as I allow you to sleep in my bed at night, I would appreciate it if you would kindly remain in one position. The tossing and turning shit really needs to stop. There is no excuse for you to be so restless--sleeping in one position for 6-8 hours is not that hard. Learn.
  • Do not make me ask for treats more than once. You act like you don't know what I want, but when I quickly stride to the big, cold box, look at you with longing eyes and squeak; I'm not just making small talk. Oh, and by the way, thanks for putting the treats in the fridge now, so when I work my way into the old treat cupboard, there is no longer a tangible reward.
  • Could you please keep an eye on my brother, the string addict? Either he doesn't remember how swallowing string caused him to have major surgery to patch 18 holes in his intestines, or he is suicidal (he does look a little depressed lately). Either way, he requires some one on one supervision (which might just get you off of my case for a bit, thankyouverymuch).
  • Thanks for putting the bird feeder just outside of the window so we can do some bird-watching each day. It is not at all a tease and we are not at all frustrated (was the sarcasm lost in print? If you could only hear the tone of my meow on this one...).
  • When there is a spider or random bug crawling on the wall or carpet, puh-leeeeease allow us to hunt it. I know it's not "fashionable" to have insects crawling in the home, but as indoor cats, we don't get much of a chance to hunt. When you swoop in with a shriek and a paper towel, it is sort of a buzz-kill.
  • Do not give me dirty looks or the "Behave!" lecture when I crawl into the chair with my sleeping brother and sit on his head until he leaves. Brach and I have an understanding and we do not appreciate your interference in the matter.
  • Do not complain when you find me lying in a basket of clean laundry. I've seen where the clean laundry is supposed to be stored and it certainly is not in a laundry basket. I can not be tried and convicted of using your laundry as cushy for my tushy if you are simply too lazy to put it in the dresser or closet.

If you have any questions about what I've stated here, I invite you to discuss it with me. I am more than happy to help you become the mother I need you to be (read: You get three strikes, bitch!).

Cordially,
Her Royal Highness

Monday, November 14, 2005

To-Do List Addendum

OK, MOM! I GET IT!!

My mother (donned in rubber gloves and gripping a litter sifter) has asked that I update my "T0-Do List" as mentioned in the previous post.

"POOP" should be added...like three times.

Friday, November 11, 2005

"Dear Kukka...", Volume IV

I've clawed the mailbag open...let's see what we've got!

Q: Kukka, do you have a "to-do" list? If so, what's on it?
A: Yes, I have an agenda. Here are some snippets for your reading pleasure:

  • Disrupt my mom's sleep by walking back and forth on her body, whining, throwing random items off of her dresser and nightstand, and plucking at the carpet.
  • Pluck at the carpet when I'm standing within 1-2 feet of the scratching post.
  • Sleep.
  • Whine for treats. Be persistent...the squeaky wheel gets the grease.
  • Join my sleeping brother, Brach, in the living room chair. Pretend I want to lie there with him, but then poke and prod him until he decides it's best that he vacate the chair (read: MY CHAIR) and allow me to get my beauty rest.
  • Walk back and forth against my mom's legs. It makes her feel good and believe that she is somehow in charge of me.
  • Sleep.
  • Attempt to open the lower cupboard doors in the kitchen. Even though I do not have opposable thumbs, I find that if I try and try (while allowing the cupboard to continuously slam against the base), eventually I will succeed in opening it and can sit in the dark with the bag of potatoes in peace.
  • Whine for treats.
  • Climb on top of the kitchen cupboards and chew on the fake plants that align the ceiling. When my mom looks at me sternly, pretend they have nutritional value and that I am completely justified in grazing.
  • Pace back and forth in front of the entertainment center. Create a workable strategy on how to climb to the top--purely for sport.
  • Press against the laundry closet doors until my mom yells to me to stop. Continue until she gets the spray bottle out. Try one more time after that.
  • Sleep in the basket under the piano bench.
  • Chase fake mice toys around the house until they end up under the couch (there have to be about 10 of them under there at any given moment).
  • Pace back and forth in front of my mom on the couch until she catches my drift and invites me on her lap.
  • Whine for treats as if I haven't had anything to eat in days. Even though she will clearly say "No," she will give in.
  • Watch my brother romp on the freshly cleaned bed sheets while my mom is trying to make the bed--have some respect, Brach!
  • Sleep.

Q: Kukka, what do you want to be when you grow up?
A:
I'm already an Empress...what more do you want from me!?

Q: Jennifer Aniston or Angelina Jolie?
A
: What the...how's that? Brad has never been the same since I broke his heart. Quit asking me such dumb questions!

Q: Kukka, how do you avoid shedding hair all over the house?
A
: I concentrate on rubbing against select items, like my mother's clothes when she lays them out for the day. This way she will take most of it right out the door when she leaves for work in the morning.

Thanks for the letters...keep them coming!

Friday, November 04, 2005

Friday Cat Blogging

Brach window surfing

Kukka plays (or lays by) piano

Sneaky...

Somehow, the food I sneak tastes better
than the very same food that is put in my bowl.
Must be the thrill of the hunt!