Wednesday, March 01, 2006

Open Letter to my Agent, Vol 2

Dear Hired-Help,

Despite everything you told me last night, I still believe it is appropriate for me to make a deposit in the litterbox whilst you are still scooping prior offenses. It's not my fault if you are a slow scooper! By now, you should know that whenever you do anything that has to do with something that belongs to me, I will be there--making sure you don't ruin my things. As soon as you lifted the top of the litterbox, I knew you needed some supervision, and, in the spirit of efficiency, I felt making a donation while you were scooping seemed sensible.

Let's talk about treats for a minute, shall we? When you run out of treats, please refrain from serving the "back-up-sucky-flavored-treats." I know you have a stash of treats I do not like in the fridge that you reserve for the times when the good treat jar is empty. I hate that! You know that I look forward to the times when, after I plead and beg for what seems like hours, you head to the fridge to get the snacks. You must understand what a complete buzz-kill it is to think I'm getting savory snacks, only to find that you've littered the carpet with what can best be described as nuggets of pure crap. And don't be fooled by Brach. Just because he gobbles them down like nobody's business doesn't mean they are fit for cats. Brach will eat anything (let's not forget the string incident, his affinity for scotch tape, and that he licks asses--both his and mine). My advice? Get a surplus of the treats you know we like and throw the jar of junk away for good! We'll all be better for it.

While I have your attention, I feel I need to mention that it's probably better for both of us if you keep room on your lap for me in the evenings. Most of the time, you seem to welcome accommodate me, but I think we can both do without the scripted drama that proceeds me lying on your lap.
  1. I stand at your feet and look up at you, offering a tiny whine from the back of my throat.
  2. You say, "What, Kukka?" as if you don't know what I want from you.
  3. I jump onto the arm of the chair and stare at you until you make eye contact with me.
  4. Again, feigning ignorance, you say, "What do you want, honey?"
  5. I gingerly approach your lap and decide to lie down on top of the ____________ (insert remote control, knitting, book, plate of food, or other miscellaneous item here) that you have refused to move for me.
I'm 6½ years old, lady. Let's not pretend anymore. You know the drill by now--don't you think it's time to surrender from the start instead of engaging in a battle you know you will lose?

I guess that's it for now. I'll wait until next time to address my need for you to pet me incessantly from 6:00am until you drag your lazy butt from bed at 7:30, and my desire to have my own bedroom--with a queen-sized bed (read: you can start sleeping on the couch at any time).

Cordially yours,
The Empress


George, Tipper, Max & Misty said...

You need an "Empress" sized bed, don't you. Why settle for anything too small?

Patches & Mittens said...

Oh, Kukka, I am sorry, metal monster is a car! That is what all the poodins call it.

I don't understand the problem with treats either. And you know, THEY understand us, why do they ask such dumb questions....

Mom is wondering how you put the line through some typing like you did the word welcome. She is mystified by that!!

Les Trois Chats said...

I am crying from laughing. I'm sorry, your highness - I know you mean these things very seriously.
~ tammara

Sister, I'm with you on the sucky-flavored treats. What gives? Can't she just throw that crap out already??
~ turtle

I go through the same lap thing with Mom nearly every night. - the whole "pretending she doesn't know what I want" act. They never learn.
~ nala

Kukka, I love you even more. You are so forceful and strong. Sigh.
~ moose

one of us said...

We tried the swap the queen size bed for the couch thing with Mom and she said 'try it again and your all out on your fuzzy ears'. Now we know she didn't mean it, but really ~Merlin, SHadow, Ko Ko

meemsnyc said...

Oh, Sebastian loves that take a poop in the litter while we are cleaning it trick. Especially when there is no litter in there at all.

Johnny Wadd said...

Oh gawd, this is one of the best blog i've come across in months.

William said...

And they say old dogs are hard to teach!

Beau said...

You expressed things very well for all of us. Thanks for speaking so eloquently on all our behalf! I made mom read it. Oh, and I do that poop thing too, only I wait until she's completely done and washing herself. heehee!

Bonnie Underfoot said...

I do the litter thing. I also re-bury what she's unearthing. It's rude to leave them exposed.

I agree with you about the treats, Kukka, but I just don't get it about laps. I'm almost 9 and it's frustrating to realize the people STILL don't get it.

sassyassy said...

I believe The Empress has been sharing complaints via smoke signals with my beloved SassyKat.

What a creative blog!

Dawn said...

I get the meows of the damned when I can't locate the "good" treats. Apparently the highfalutin' felines in my household fail to grasp the human concept of mediocre sex/pizza as filling the void (hah!) well enough. A treat is a treat is a treat, damn it. And if it tastes like ass, well, I should think it's an improvement over grooming hour. But WTF do I know?