From the Cat's Mouth

Human post pictures where they look younger, so here is one of me when I first adopted my people.

Hi, it's me again. My owner has been busy working on her other books (something about YA paranormal or something, it doesn't have a cat it it, though it does have a dog, so I am not interested). She has been totally immersed in her project, so she has been out of it more than usual.

I didn't actually know that she could get even more spacey, but, hey, even cats aren't perfect (don't you dare tell anyone I said that). I learn things new about humans every day.

The other day she actually put the little rat-dog thing in the back yard. That little nuisence was small enough to squeeze out of the fence and ran away.

So, I went and caught the dog and brought her home and yelled at the door until they let us back in the house.

"See?" I told her. "Now I had to save your dog. Do I have to do everything in this household."

She was gracious enough to concede that I had saved her little rat. She said, "Good job, Jade."

Obviously, she forgot I was not a dog.

A Public Service Announcement from the Cat

I am in the closet, typing on my owner's computer. I have been reading her blog, and I know what she has been saying about me.

Though there is some truth in her libelous words against me, I must clarify our situation.

I lived in a beautiful apartment when I was a kitten. It was complete with an older cat for me to chase, a baby for me to hide from, and an owner who doted on me. I spent my days hiding under the couch.

My owner made the serious faux pas (or, in my case faux paw) or mentioning to the landlords that my mother was a Bengal, that illustrious breed of only semi-domesticated cats that are so much more beautiful, intelligent, and lethal than all the other breeds. The landlords could not take the competition of beautiful me (they only WISH they could purr) and so I put an ad up for myself on Craigslist.

Three people came in response to the ad. Well, three and a half people, actually. The female human was grossly pregnant. I mean, even her feet were swollen. I have no tolerance for humans who let themselves slip like that.

I could see that the man and the two young children desperately needed my help. She wasn't good enough for them. She obviously was too busy popping out hairless kittens to do a proper job of caring for the kittens she had. (I should mention that I should have taken the warning signs and had her spayed right away. We cats need to make sure we spay our females early on!)

So, I adopted them.

I immediately set to raising my young humans. The older boy needed some serious grooming, so I set myself the task of licking him clean as he slept, as any good mother would. She didn't do it. Her idea of a bath was sticking them in a huge basin of water! I am not lying!

The younger of the two needed some serious discipline. Oh, who am I kidding, he looked delicious, so I practiced my hunting skills on him. It's not like they were useful to anyone else.

When I went into heat I bathed myself beautifully, and pranced in front of the handsome and obviously available male, the human man. (Don't judge me, you know what it is like to go into heat.) I could tell he liked me better than the odious female, but he wasn't willing to abandon her with kittens all by herself.

Then She did the unforgivable.

She had me spayed.

Seriously. I was cast into a crate, drugged, cut open, and lost all the dignity and hope for kittens I could have had. It was cruel revenge on her part. I know she saw me snuggling with her mate!

I decided to sit down and give her the real run down. She was only welcome in my house as a pet. She could pop out kittens for me to raise, but the man was mine. The kittens were mine. All subsequent dogs, cats, and chickens were mine.

So, you can take Her spin on it, but what I am doing here is an act of gracious service! I am raising these poor hairless kittens.

It is a thankless job.

I must return the computer before She finishes suckling our latest offspring.

Once he is weaned, he will be mine, just like all the rest.

Purrfully Yours,

Jade

When Dogs Look Like Rats to Cats

Korra

Harold

Harold: DIIIIIEEEE RAT!

Korra: I am not a rat, I am a dog.

Harold: Are you sure? You look exactly like a rat.

Korra: I am sure. See? I can growl.

Harold: So can I.

Korra: I am a dog. I swear. I can chase you if that will prove it.

Harold: That won't be necessary.

Korra: So? You believe me?

Harold: DIIIIIEEEE DOG!

Regarding the Cat...

Ah, the baleful gaze of my cat. No matter how many times I tell her that she is my cat, she insists that I am nothing more than a surrogate producing 'kittens' for her because she is spayed.

Jade loves my husband. She cuddles him and grooms him. If I touch him when she is near, she gives me the 'look'.

I offend her.

She loves her 'kittens', which are my sons, our other cat, and, most recently, our min-pin cross. She even grooms and makes nice with the big (huge) dogs.

She sleeps with my oldest son, and licks his hair. She snuggles him and purrs.

I am the one that found her, who adopted her, but she will never love me.

"Mine," she says. "MY husband, MY kittens, MY dogs."

She doesn't even care enough to hate me. I'm just there. Occasionally she will deign to let me stroke her, but she gets bored and runs off to let my two year old ride her like a pony.

When we had chickens, Jade and the silkies would conspire together. I suspect they were forming a fuzzy mafia.

Even Harold, our other cat will hesitate when I express affection for him. "I have to check with Jade," he tells me. "Get a referral and I will get back to you."

Sigh.

Please Adopt

I just filled out a foster adoption-- at my nearby shelter.

Most of the animals I have owned have been rescues. It's just what I have always done. My heart breaks when I think of all the animals that have lived only to die because their owners did not care enough to spay or neuter them.

If I could, I would adopt them all, and find new homes for them.

Right now we have four pets in our household. We have Red (Clifford the Big Red Dog) who was from the shelter. He's about a year old and a big red golden retriever. When we got him he was really skinny, so he's weird about food. He'll share, he has no aggression in him at all, but he... well, he's not skinny anymore.

Beauty, our other dog, is a lab something mix. We don't know what the something is, but she doesn't bark. She's also from the same shelter. She does howl on occassion, and her skin is really really loose. She's high energy, just having turned one, but we love her. She is SMART. She can open a sliding glass door, so we keep ours locked.

Then we have the cats.

Jade came from an apartment complex that was kicking her out because she was a bengal cross. She is a very high-energy cat and we had to relax our 'indoor only' rules for cats with her, because, well, if she doesn't get to go outside, she hunts my second son. Why him? We really don't know. Maybe because he's a fast enough runner to be a real challenge. She's three years old.

Harold, our other cat, is a big orange, shy guy. It took him a year to come out from under the bed after we brought him home from the shelter. Now he comes out to greet visitors with very little hesitation. His favorite person in the whole world is my two year old. They are best buds. My two year old could do anything, literally, to Harold, and the cat would love it. Once we caught the two year old attempting to cut off the cat's tail with (thankfully dull) scissors. Harold was all for it. We rescued him anyway and had a long talk to the pair about tails being a good thing.

I just have to help. I can't stop here. I need to do what I can to help the animals out there that are in need.

Hence the foster contract. This way I can help the sick or elderly ones that need the most help, despite my lack of finances.

Please, please, spay and neuter all your pets. Don't breed. Rescue! Foster, if you can't make a long term commitment.