Chief Security Officer's Report

 It's been an interesting time here in the Mid-Atlantic sector.  I am new to the post and have many things to relate in this, my first security report back to the Federation.

I have been playing with something called "yarn".  It's green and blue, and Mom is making it into a shrug.  Or so she says.  I think it is alive.  When she works on it, the yarn moves!  I do my best to kill it so it won't hurt her, but all I hear is "No Hobbes, don't do that!" and then she puts all of the yarn away, just killing my fun.

We had strangers come into the Station two weeks ago.  They removed a freezer from the basement.  Dad (the hairy human) said that they were from the electric company, and were going to remove an old appliance for us.  In exchange, they would give us money to get an old appliance off the grid.  (What is this "grid"?)  I subjected them to a thorough Screening before allowing them into the Station.  While I smelled many new and intriguing smells, none seemed threatening.  The strangers smiled at me and attempted to scratch my ears!  Can you believe the unmitigated gall of them!  I kept a close eye on them, watching their every move from the top of the stairs as well as from the top of the kitchen refrigerator.  As they were leaving the house, I gave them a final hiss to let them know that they were no longer welcome in the Station.  

 These "flowers" came into the house last week.  They smell very nice, but they don't taste all that great.  I ate one, but then the girl started yelling at me "No, Hobbes!  Don't eat that!  My BF gave them to me!  Stop it!"  She then pulled the "flowers" away from me.  After further investigation, I discovered that these flowers are called "Roses" and that the girl's special friend gave them to her. 

I keep hearing this word "NO".  I still don't know what it means, but I hear it a LOT.  I have been investigating it, and I have discovered that I hear it more when I do things that are really fun - like taking salmon off of a plate when somebody gets up from the table, pulling a wallet out of a purse, sitting on the kitchen counter and eating chicken off the cutting board, or untying shoelaces.  I really don't like this word.

Commander Luna is slowly getting adjusted to her new Command Position.  She doesn't respond to being called "Hey You", or even "Miss", but she does love to be called Commander.  I am having a hard time calling her Commander, but I am getting used to it.  She didn't care for me much at first, but she has accepted me.  We now touch noses, nuzzle against each other, play chase around the house, and every once in a while, we even play footsie.  I think I'm going to like this assignment. 

The humans in the house found a new and interesting way to torment the felines in the house.  This torture device houses food and treats.  Mom calls it a "stimulation" toy.  It's supposed to enrich our lives and keep us challenged and interested.  We were considering calling this cruel and unusual, but they are putting the really good chicken treats in here, so we are holding off on invoking the Geneva Catventions.

 

Lieutenant Hobbes
Chief Security Officer
Station #1
Mid-Atlantic Sector

Luna's World

Hey there, this is Luna, writing from the confines of the Pillow of Shame.

I had a sore mouth recently.  It hurt a lot, but I'm a tough little cat, so I didn't make any fuss about it at all.

Until I went to the vet.  She found my sore teeth, and then she decided to make a big fuss.  "Luna needs to have those teeth pulled" she said.  "Abcess" she said.  "Clean her teeth" she said.

Hmph.

My idiot owners "Mom" and "That Girl" (I'm not using her name right now, I'm too angry at her.) They left me at the vets office a couple of days later to have my dental work done.

Do you know, they shave patches of my beautiful fur?
Or that they stuck needles into my delicate skin?
And that they prised my mouth open to pull my teeth?
They even used a scratchy thing to clean my gums.

Even worse, they told "Mom" and "That Girl" that I couldn't eat any kibble for 14 days.  Soft food is fine, but no kibble.

I don't like soft, wet food.  If I wanted soft, wet food, I'd kill one of those little mice that run around in the yard - and sometimes in our basement.

I have been on a hunger strike for 10 days now.  TEN DAYS!!!  DO YOU HEAR ME?????  I HAVEN'T EATEN IN TEN DAYS!!!!!!

Oh, they've given me food... turkey in gravy, chicken, salmon, liver, pumpkin bread...  You name it, they've put it down for me.

And I have repeatedly turned up my nose and tail at this nonsense.

I've slapped plates full of "food" across the room after they put it down.

I've come in and sat down with my back to the "food".

I have shaken my paws at this "food".

All to no avail.  They are not budging. They are standing firm.  They've even taken me back to the vet twice - TWICE I TELL YOU - to have her make sure that I am "doing okay".  I tried my hardest to look all weak and sickly, but when they stick a thermometer up your butt, it's hard not to be angry and indignant.

The vet even said that I had managed to gain weight.

Liar.

She doesn't know about my secret stash.  None of them do.  You see, I had been storing bits and pieces of food behind one of the back legs of the china cabinet.  I had even squirreled away a bag of treats and stored them back there.  When nobody is looking, I go and dig out a few pieces of kibble.  Last night, I pulled out one of the bags of treats that was hidden in a cabinet under the sink.

Don't worry.  I'm letting them know how upset I am.  I am waiting until I really, really have to pee.

The, I find something that belongs to them and let loose.

Very efficient was of winning the argument, hmmm?

The Fuzz Factor

I originally wrote this piece from Tiger's viewpoint after a memorable morning.  I was attempting to get the kids out of the house and off to school when this happened.  Even though it's been close to ten years since this happened, I can still remember the mouse scurrying along the kitchen baseboard, and Tiger watching us with great disappointment.  And I can still see Oldest Son sitting on the floor, having a very serious discussion with the cat about people food.   He never did teach us to hunt! 

I had a great day in the yard this morning. 

I love fall.  You see, the small grey mice are scurrying around, looking for new, warmer places to spend the winter.  I just love playing with the mice.  This morning, I had one for breakfast.  Mmmm....yummy mice.

I was out early this morning.  For some reason, my humans let me out early today.  After I had my breakfast, it hit me that my humans did not know how to hunt.

The oldest boy human should be able to hunt for himself now, and yet he spends his time looking for prey in the noisy white box in the kitchen.  What kind of parents are those two grown humans anyway?  They should be teaching their young humans to forage for themselves!!

Anyway, since I was up and about early this morning, I decided it was time to boy human #1 to hunt.  I thought I would do it just like my mother did for me.  I would cripple the mouse, and then bring it to him so that he could kill it off.  Fortunately, the mice are frantically scurrying around now, looking for food, so it was easy to find another mouse to offer to the oldest boy human.

I knew my humans were up, I could see them stalking the giant white box for food.  I caught my mouse and brought it over to the door.  Keeping the mouse safely tucked into my mouth, I began scratching at the kitchen door to be let in. 

Perfect!  Boy #1 opened the door for me!  I bounded in and dropped the mouse at his feet.

Ungrateful humans!  The mother jumped onto the kitchen chair.  Boy #2 began laughing so hard tears were coming out of his eyes.  Boy #1 looked like he didn't know what to do.  He picked up my mouse by the tail and tossed it back outside!  That was a great breakfast!  Freshly caught mouse, and he just tossed it aside like a used catnip mouse.  I scolded him with my whiskers back, and he sat down with me and tried to explain something about "mouse is not people food." 

I switched my tail at him and went back outside.  Fortunately, I was able to find my mouse quickly, and I sat down to enjoy my second breakfast.

How can I be expected to teach my humans how to hunt if they don't take me seriously?

A Word From the Cat

This is Luna.  I am the beautiful, young princess cat of this house.  I rule with a furry paw.

Things in this house have been dull recently.

My humans had moved a delightful new toy into the living room.  It was lovely... It had a bowl of water at the bottom, I could reach up and dig my beautiful nails in, and sometimes, I could climb up into it, and sit in it, surrounded by a forest of green needles, and watch my subjects move around about me.  They even covered this amazing toy with lots of little toys for me!  I could sit on the floor and swat at them, or climb up and hit the bonus ones - you know, the ones that go "CRASH" when they hit the floor.  The humans never put those fun toys at the bottom.  They always put them near the top.  Silly humans... don't they know by now that by moving them up higher, hitting them became more of a challenge?

My beautiful new toy disappeared over the last week.  I don't know why they took it away?  I wasn't done with it!

I hate to tell you this, but my humans... sometimes, they let the food in my dish get so low that I can actually SEE THE BOTTOM OF THE DISH!!  Can you believe this?  I let them know when I can see the bottom of my dish by picking up paws full of food and throwing them across the room.

My boyfriend, Tiger, has gotten an attitude lately.  I don't know what is up with him.  I know he likes to pretend that he is all tough and distant, but this is getting ridiculous.  He was sleeping on the bed with "Mom" and "Dad" the other day.  They all looked so cozy, I decided to hop up and snuggle up with him.  As soon as I hopped up on the bed, can you believe it?  He HISSED AT ME!  That's right!  He dared to HISS at the Princess.  Well, I showed him!  I made my very best bushy tail at him, and I HOWLED at him to let him know that I did not appreciate him telling me what I could and could not do.  Can you believe that he dared to swat me?  Me?  The Princess?  He swatted me across the face with his paw!!  Well, I just can't stand that kind of challenge to my authority, so I charged him and swatted him back - with my CLAWS OUT, and I showed my teeth and howled some  more.
And then, oh, the indignity of it all... just as it was getting fun, and we were having some awesome roll around and hit and bite each other time, "Dad" picked us both up and tossed us both outside.  He was muttering some nonsense about it being "3 in the morning". 

Picky.

No more human oppression of cats!  No more!  I will not stand for this!

I have let the humans know of my displeasure by typing this on the laptop.  I will continue to let them know of my displeasure by staging a hostile takeover of this computer!  I shall sleep on the keyboard for the rest of the day!  It's mine, mine I tell you!

That is all for now!

Princess Luna

a word from the cat

Mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha!  I have sneaked onto the keyboard this morning! 

Life has been good.  The wood stove has been fired up since the snowstorm last weekend, and we have been basking in it's warmth in the chairs closest to the stove. 

I've made friends with the new, invader cat to the household.  We now share the bed of youngest human.  We have been curling up at the end of her bed, but now we think that we can work together to push her out of the bed and take it over for ourselves!  Ha-ha-ha-ha!  (That's Luna, cackling in the background)

We have an interloper who has been trying to take over our back yard.  He's a ginger cat.  We tried to jump him yesterday when he came sneaking into our yard, looking at our birds as his afternoon snack.  We're not sure how it happened, but somehow, we both ended up cornered up in the apple tree.  Youngest human had to bring a ladder to come and get us down.

Mom has been painting a lot.  She applied for 10 jobs in the last month, but has heard nothing  - no, not even a "we hired someone else, now go away" from anyone.  So now, she's painting.  We think it is a way to manage stress, but we are staying out of her way!  Personally, we think she'd be better off chasing some mice down in the back yard, or maybe rolling around on the floor with a catnip mouse, but what do we know?  We're just cats......

I'm going now.  I need to go keep an eye on Luna.  You never know what she might decide to do on her own if I'm not there to tell her what to do. 

-tiger.

*This was originally posted on my now defunct "Mom's View" Blog.

A Word from the Cat

Hello... my name is Tiger, and I am one of two resident cats in this house.

The computer is on, and everyone is cleaning up my latest masterful creation in the basement, so I have taken matters into my own paws, if you will, to give my story.

I have lived with this family for nine years now.  I was a little kitten when I saw a little girl with a bright green pack walking down the street to the big yellow caterpillar.  I chased her backpack straps,  and I caught them!

She got into the big yellow caterpillar, and I followed her "Mom" back to her house.  They had a nice porch with a big chair and cushion on it, so I made myself at home.  My Mom had lived in the woods by the place where the big yellow caterpillar came.  I lived there with my brothers and sisters.  Mom had been hit by a car the night before, and we were all out looking for a safe place to live and get food and water.

Eventually, "Mom" brought out food and water for me.  She let me into the house.  She put pictures of me up all over the neighborhood.  I was taken to an office where I was wrapped up in a towel, and had a couple of sharp sticks poked at me. 

But, through it all, I loved that little girl with the bright green backpack with the long dangly straps.   I'll call her Missy.

Missy has grown up now.   She no longer carries a bright green backpack, and the straps no longer dangle on the ground when she walks.  I heard that she was in something called "Kindergarten" when I adopted her, and now she is going into something called "High School".

I've taught Missy well over the years.  I've taught her to pet me when I meow.  I used to sleep at the end of her bed, but now - her feet keep hitting me in the middle of the night.  I try to lick her toes to keep her from hitting me, but does she move her feet?  No!  She kicks me!  I've taught her not to leave the lid on her fish tank open, and last night, I reminded her why she should not leave a ball of yarn down on the floor.

Recently, my family brought home another cat.  Her name is Luna.  Luna thought that she could have possession of Missy's feet, too.  She was wrong.  Luna and I have been having battles over posession of Missy's feet at 2 in the morning.  I win the battles, and possession of Missy's feet.  Unfortunately, Missy wakes up when we fight, and throws us both out of her room and closes the door so we can't get back in.  It's not fair!  I win those fights fair and square, and what reward to I get?  I get tossed out into the cold, dark hallway in the middle of the night!

Picture, Copyright 2011 BLW

And so, last night, Luna and I declared a truce.  After we were tossed out of Missy's room, we went downstairs and found the yarn basket.  Need I say more? 

I must go now.  I hear Missy coming back upstairs.

Until next time,
Tiger


 This post originally appeared in my now defunct "Mom's View" blog.  I moved it to this blog at the request of my kids, who wanted to have all of the various posts that accompanied their high school years in one place.  I've matched the publication dates here to their original post date.  If you're reading these posts, I sincerely thank you for taking the time to go back through them all!