Apocolypse Meow

I just heard a horrible rumor that I'm getting a sister. For the sake of everyone involved, it better not be true. I keep hearing mom and J (aka the Kaiser) chatting about buying a house. This would mean I would be stuck in the same house with his fat diva tabby. THERE IS ONLY ONE DIVA IN THIS TOWN, AND THAT IS ME! So that tubby little tabby better watch it, because if she and I are in the same house, it's on. It's bad enough she's charmed my mom into thinking that cats are sweet, rather than demon-possessed little beasties. She is eroding all the human training I've been doing these last three years.

Fortunately for me, Auntie Johari pointed me to this great book, When Cats Assassinate

J thinks that he and mom can socialize us enough, but need I remind everyone of the kitty shelter, and my behavior therein. Uncle Glenn can tell you all about my inability to get along with inferior cats.

In the kitchen with Sasha Louise

Greetings inferior human bipeds,

This weekend was quite eventful. Mom has been off rehearsing for the big dance show, as well as hanging out with J, so I've been acting out. Mom used to cook more at home, and I always enjoyed jumping up on the stove and licking her pans, with or without food in them. I remember once she left an uncooked meatloaf unattended for merely a few seconds, and I had a great time licking it.

Well, now that she's hooked up with J and his cat, she cooks over there now. Apparently J's cat is too fat to jump up on the counters, so she can cook cathair-free. Once again though, I've outsmarted her. Yesterday she pulled out her big glass casserole dish, because she was going to make her fabulous Chicken Parmesean over at J's house. Well, I decided to use her casserole dish as a napping spot. I curled right up in it, and fit nicely. Mom wasn't happy with the CAT-serole. To make things even better, she reheated some turkey and gravy, and was eating on her coffee table. Because she was ignoring me, I sat in the middle of her plate. I ended up with gravy all over my butt, but it was worth seeing her jump up and start yelling.

In other news, I think she's worn out her welcome with Cat L., (J's cat). When she stays over, Cat leaves pooplettes right by the front door, rather than in the litter box. This is her way of sending a hint.

Pest Control = Human Control

Mom came home for lunch Wednesday because the Pest Control people were going to spray our apartment, and she was afraid they would let me out and/or hurt me. Well, she should have been more worried about them.

As she drove up and got out of her car, she saw the pest control guy sprinting down her stairs and out the door. She asked him what the hurry was, and he explained how her VICIOUS BEASTIE of a cat bit him on the ankle, after going into Crazed Halloween Kitty mode. He looked pretty scared as he was dashing out the door. With my taste for human blood satiated (am I spelling that right?), Mom found me curled up in a little ball on the couch, purring contentedly and licking the blood from my enormous fangs of death.

Moving along, last night Mom got out of the shower to find a pooplette on her bathmat again. I know she's probably too smart (snicker) to fall for that again, but I figured I'd try. This morning, she left the toilet lid up and caught me drinking out of the loo again. I don't know why toilet water tastes better than that from the sink, but it does.

Mom is still cheating on me with that fat lump of cat over at J's. I swear, she's such a sucker for cute guys and their sweet, fat little kitties. Bleah.