December 14th, 2007
|04:01 pm - A Series of Short Letters...|
Dear Little Black Cat,
Please stop trying to tear holes in the screen on the porch. I will only find them and fix them. You are small and cunning. I am larger, smarter, and have opposable thumbs. And power tools. And duct tape. Next time, I install an electrical charge.
Love, the Monkey that feeds you.
Dear Little Orange Cat,
When I have a midlife crisis and form a rock band called "No Molly," it'll be because of you. Please stop climbing the bedroom window blinds in the middle of the night. And knocking stuff off the highest points in the room. And trying to get into the part of the house forbidden to you. And whining at the garage door. And turning on the window-mounted A/C unit to wake us up.
And leaning on the toilet seat when I'm doing my business. Learn that No means No.
Love, the hairless ape that pets you.
Dear Little White Cat,
Please stop trying to slit my throat when I pet you. You're beautiful and strange, and surely, in all the years we've had you, I've never hurt you. The paranoia needs to go away. Really. Especially if you're going to leap on my head in the mornings and yell to be fed.
Love, the foolish human who kept you.
Dear Tuxedo Cat,
Yes, you're the alpha. Of the four-legged cats. Stop trying to tell me what to do. And stop walking on my face when I try to sleep. I remember you when you were a kitten. I have the blackmail photos.
Love, the -real- alpha of the house. (Except for my wife.)
Dear Maine Coon,
If you plan to sleep on my head, please clean your ass first. And give me -some- room for my head, so I can sleep. Also, no licking my forehead, it's not sexy at all. And despite you, I'm not gay. Really. And would it hurt you to use mouthwash? That's it, dentist time for you.
Love, the human who can (and has) get you the Lion Cut. I still have the pictures.
Dear Little Grey Cat,
I promise I love you. Don't have a heart attack if I don't greet you 50 times a day. No need to scream at me, follow me around, butt me with that sharp pointy head of yours. Also, the drooling? Not sexy either.
Love, the human who thought you were a male when we adopted you.
Dear Ginormous White Kitty of Doom,
Please stop freaking out when I pick you up. I promise you, losing contact with the ground will not render you powerless. And the attack-shedding needs to stop. I thought it was snowing the other way. It was just you. And if you must walk all over me in bed, retract the footlong talons. Please. I think you nicked an artery last time.
Love, your launching pad.
I know what you're thinking. Stop it. Please. You're scaring the neighbors.
Current Mood: devious
|Date:||December 14th, 2007 11:40 pm (UTC)|| |
Ship me the Maine Coon. Also the big white one.
I shall tutor them.