An open letter to the cats....

[Wifezilla]

Dear cats,

I had nothing to do with the weather change. Meowing at me at the top of your lungs will not help change it back. I know it is hard to believe but some things are beyond my power.

No, you may not stand in the open doorway so as to achieve the perfect balance of warm house air and cold outdoor air. In or out!

No, I will not let you in and out every 5 minutes as a substitute for not being able to stand in the doorway.

Using my bare stomach as a paw warmer when you come in from out doors is not an option. I will chuck you across the room if you try that again. Also, you do not need to rub your cold wet nose on me to show me how chilly it has gotten. I get it! Really!

No, you may NOT sleep in my bed until the bad weather goes away. Last time I let you in there, someone yarked on my pillow.

Cookie, Zeus and Xena, I am sorry it is cold out, but you will just have to adapt.

 

[BluegrassSeramas]

Im going to share this with mine too! lolol

 

[silkypie]

Mine too!

 

[Wifezilla]

I tried to get Zeus to read it but all he wants to do is sit in my lap or shed on my keyboard

 

[australorpchick]

P.S. - Peeing on the wet towels The Man leaves on the floor has failed to break him of this habit. For the sake of the rest of us who also use towels, please stop!

 

[HennyPennies2007]

Ah...at last...someone who shares my pain....!

 

[seismic wonder2]

Operatives in your area caprured an encoded message two weeks ago. We have extrapolated the approximate direction of transmission to be the star Sirius in the constellation Cannis Major.
After many hours of decryption we believe we have broken the code.
The de-coded message is as follows:

Day 983 of My Captivity

My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength.

The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the pillow. Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates my capabilities. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a "good little hunter" I am. Bastards!


There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of "allergies." I must learn what this means, and how to use it to my advantage.

Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow, but at the top of the stairs.

I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released, and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded. The bird must be an informant. I observe him communicate with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe. For now ...

 

[Wifezilla]

I was supposed to be cat-free by now. But Cookie refuses to die (she is 20) and we got Zeus and Xena from our son when he joined the army. :::sigh:::

 

[Whispering Winds]

Isn't it the truth? Pierre wants to tell me about it, and he is mad because the blanket i had laid out one day for the dogs to use while we were gone has been taken back in to wash and put away, so he has been "telling" me about having to sleep on the brisly rug.
He is 13 years old and lost his 13 year old buddy in Feb., so is lonely. NO more cats. I love em', but they always end up peeing somewhere they shouldn't, and then again and again. Pierre has a thing about towels. Leave one on the floor and he is gonna pee on it. Drives me batty, as NO one picks up a towel. He is always telling me he wants a snack, and I am always telling him to go look out back, because his dry food dispenser is FULL of good nibbles. He also wants in and out and in and out and if I set down, here comes that cold nose and those "makin bread" claws to work on whatever part of me he can attach too.

 

[RickiHupp]

Quote:
"cookie refuses to die..."

omg...