If cats had a diary...

Dear Diary,

 

House plant didn't agree with me.  Had to find white furniture to regurgitate.  Left a lovely green stain on the white couch.  Housekeeping slave made much noise.  I of course ignored her.

 

Can opener slave keeps throwing the mouse gift I bring him.  He must provide lap in front of computer so that I can comfort myself.

 

Sincerely, cat

Dear diary,

Today the slave drove Kramer and I in the traveling contraption for a long time, just like she did a few days ago. It was horrid, but to mask my displeasure I went to sleep so I wouldn't upset my slave. She needs to be on form for feeding me.

When she put us in the traveling contraption a few days ago, she brought us to a strange place, with new slaves who had a giant black un-cat. I think the other slaves were her slave family, because they kept doing those weird things where slaves wrap their arms around each other. Sometimes the slave does this to me. It's awful.

The un-cat was interesting. I am obviously of much superior intelligence, but he was very friendly, at least. At first I gave him my usual new slave treatment, hisses and pops on the nose, but then I realized his wagging tail makes an excellent toy. He annoys me when he tries to play, but I tolerate him. I have the feeling we'll be coming back to the other slaves' house soon.

Speaking of the new slaves, Kramer, as usual, continues to indiscriminately demand attention from all slaves (although he and the un-cat are NOT friends). The first night we were in the slave family's house, he jumped right up onto the couch and sat on their laps purring, the fool. I simply waited underneath the slave talking box until my main slave returned home.

Must be off, diary. I have to warm up my couch spot.

Sincerely, Boots.

Dear Diary,

 

I have grown to enjoy tormenting my human servants especially the male which I put an extra effort in whenever he is home. It is so fun when he chases me out of what he calls his "warroom" after knocking his noise box off his desk or if being to scratch the moving picture box he tend spend all night screaming at.  I especially enjoy attacking his feet while they are under the afgan, the noises he makes are amusing.  My female servant seems to be my official giver of nourishments though it seems she sometimes get lazy and gives me only dry pellets. They provides me with the nourishment I need but it is not nearly as tasty without the moist food added into it.  She is also the one who opens the veiwing portals in the morning when she arrives home from her job. I do enjoy staring outside, some day I shall escape and live wild but then again...I do like my warm bed and my consistant supply of food.

 

The Cat

Dear Diary,

 

Last night, my female slave cornered me and my sister and used a wet, smelly wipe on my eyes. She said it was to get rid of the tear stains. She also told me that we have not been diligent enough to keep that area clean ourselves, so she had to buy these smelly things. I could have told her that it is hard to keep our eyes clean.

Dear Diary,

 

My latest attempts to kill my human have failed.  I removed all of his shoelaces, but he outsmarted me by planning for this attack and had spares.  I will try again tomorrow.  I have debated enlisting the help of this new, young cat he has brought home, but I am unsure if he can be trusted.  He seems to actually like the human.  It's pathetic and disgusting.

 

On a related note, the black and silver beast that is intent on inhaling me struck again.  I am certain that the human is the true master of this beast.  I will destroy them both; but first I must go dig a trench in the box of earth the human leaves in the bathroom and leave the human something to "deal with" as he puts it.

 

I will return.

Dear Diary,

 

The one thing that I would LOVE the most- is if the human slaves sat around all day and let me lay on their laps.  Especially the older one with long hair.  The 2 smaller versions of that human are nice- but they keep moving me from my favorite lap and I don't like it. 

 

My favorite part of the day is when all of the slaves sit on the big red comfy thing and watch the big box that makes noise.  Then I get all kinds of laps I can lay on.

 

Jasper

Dear Diary,

 

Well, it's been many naps and many mealtimes, and the one that mommy calls Daymon is still here. How much longer do I have to put up with this other cat in MY house?!? He sleeps in MY bed, he plays with MY toys, he sits on MY condo to watch MY kitty TV... and the worst is when he sits on mommy's lap and purrs while mommy tells him how handsome he is. What a brown-noser. That's not even the worst of it. All I hear now, all day long is: "Holland, are you being nice to your brother?", "Holland, don't stalk your brother!", "Holland, that's Daymon's food, eat your own." But wait, it gets better... I thought I had a fair understanding of slave language, but maybe not, because she is constantly telling me that she brought this... thing into my house for MY OWN GOOD! I must not have a good understanding of what "my own good" is. Because, I gotta tell ya - NOTHING has been good since this guy got here.

 

OK, well, maybe I'm exaggerating just a little bit. I mean, mommy tells me that she loves me, and that I'm her princess. And best of all, I know she loves me best because I get my noms first. I guess I will suffer through this phase of my life. It can't possibly last forever, right?

 

Sincerely,

Holland

Dear Diary,

 

Figured out how to open the human's garbage can today.  Decided that its contents were more aesthetically pleasing on the floor.  Awesome.