It isn't often that I have your undivided attention, lately. I know Kukka is a high-maintenance feline and that it's difficult for you to guarantee me quality time. I understand this and, for the most part, it doesn't bother me too much. However, now that Kukka has taken to her bed with "exhaustion" and I do have your attention, I would like to voice some of my concerns.
You know that I've always been a nervous cat, right? I mean, most of the time you respect me and my "ticks." I appreciate that. Lately, though, it seems that you haven't been too considerate of my needs--especially around my Feline Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder and high levels of anxiety.
While I appreciate that you keep our food bowl topped off at all times and I rarely have to whine to you for food, I need to go over the Food Distribution Guidelines (as spelled out in "Caring for Brach: The Ultimate Guide to a Happy OCD Feline", the handbook I wrote and provided you upon receiving my OCD diagnosis).
"Kibble must be distributed in even numbers. It is not acceptable to fill a bowl, without ensuring there is an even-number of kibblets. An OCD feline would rather starve, than eat from a bowl filled with an odd-number of kibble kernals."
Now do you understand why I pace back and forth after you fill the bowl? Yes, I'm hungry, but unless I know you've counted the pieces, I can not eat! Lately, this has been especially frustrating for me, as you seem to fill the bowl and leave the kitchen immediately to massage Kukka's ego or soothe her in some way. It makes me feel very unimportant--and hungry.
Let's get to the issue of your guests. I know your friends aren't dirty and you know I have nothing against them personally. I just have a raging allergy to human dander! Is it too much to ask that you have your guests "scrub in" when they arrive? In my ideal world, when humans come into the house, they would shower (with anti-bacterial soap) and don scrubs, a hairnet, a face mask, gloves and little paper booties for their feet. I understand that is a lot to ask, so I'm willing to have them just wash their hands before petting me. Until that happens, you will need to accept that I will continue to run and hide when people come to visit you. I have to set boundaries!
I don't want to be a pest, Mom, but please be more understanding when I don't respond to you right away when you call me from another spot in the house. If you are in the kitchen, ready to distribute treats (which, by the way, should also be given in even numbers) and I am in the bedroom, don't get impatient when I don't come running right away. You know I have rituals that need to be done when I leave my bedroom.
When climbing down from my closet shelf bed, I first have to straighten the blankets. That sometimes takes awhile because I have to pat the bed seven times in each corner. Then, once I get to the ground, I have to go under the bed and touch each of the bed legs--starting in the south-east corner and working clockwise. Once I get to the door, I have to rub my face against the door frame seven times on each cheek--on each side of the door. As you can see, these rituals are pretty extensive--and that's just to leave the bedroom! I won't even get into what it takes to walk down the hallway! My point in explaining all of this is that yelling my name louder and more frequently will not get me to the kitchen any faster. Give me my time--I'll get there eventually!
Finally, it's clear to both you and me that Kukka has no immediate plans to stop bullying me. I can pretty much plan that once I get warm and comfortable in a sleeping spot, she will come and force me out of it. Everything I've tried to get her to stop this behavior has failed and all you seem to do is take pictures of us when it happens. Not cool, Mom...not cool.
So, I am proposing a different solution. If I can't get her to stop bullying me, I need to work on how I react to it. Mom, I would like to study martial arts. I feel that if I were to become more agile and aggressive, I just might stand a chance at defending myself against Kukka! Please, Mom! Wouldn't I look so precious wielding a Japanese katana or nunchucks?
In conclusion, dear mother, I know you love me and I hate to sound ungrateful, but I feel if the you part of "we" can work on these things, I will be a happier cat--which will, in turn, make you a happier cat mother.
Proud to be germ-free since 2001!