Friday, September 2, 2011

The Cat's Limb (for today only, see below) FR 09/02/11

Last night, poster OT Rush reported on some ominous developments in the feline world, including the upcoming introduction of fully automated feline feeding stations that portend the end of Western civilization (such as it is). Lest it be thought that OT overstated things, attend this portion of a diary I found in my home, inadvertently left exposed after a catnip binge. Forgive the odd spacing. My cat must have used a different version of Word.

DAY 752 - My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little
dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat while I am forced to eat dry cereal. The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of escape, and the mild satisfaction I get from ruining the occasional piece of furniture. Tomorrow I may eat another houseplant.

DAY 761 - Today my attempt to kill my captors by weaving around their feet while they were walking almost succeeded. Must try this at the top of the stairs. In an attempt to disgust and repulse these vile oppressors, I once again induced myself to vomit on their favorite chair. must try this on their bed.
DAY 762 - Slept all day so that I could annoy my captors with sleep deprivation; incessant pleas for food at ungodly hours of the night.
DAY 765 - Decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless body, in attempt to make them aware of what I am capable of and to try and strike fear into their hearts. They only cooed and condescended about what a good little cat I was... hmmm. Not working according to plan...

DAY 768 - I am finally aware of how sadistic they are. For no good reason I was chosen for the water torture. This time however it included a burning, foamy chemical called "shampoo." What sick minds could invent such a liquid? My only consolation is the piece of thumb still stuck between my teeth.
DAY 771 - There was some sort of gathering of their accomplices. I was placed in solitary throughout the event. However, I could hear the noise and smell the foul odor of the glass tubes they call "beer." More importantly I overheard that my confinement was due to MY power of "allergies." I must learn more about this and how to use it to my advantage.

DAY 774 - I am convinced the other captives are flunkies and maybe snitches. The Dog is routinely released and seems more than happy to return. He is obviously a half-wit. The Bird on the other hand has got to be an informant. He has mastered their frightful tongue (something akin to mole-speak) and speaks with them regularly. I am certain he reports my every move Due to his current placement in the metal room his safety is assured. But I can wait, it is only a matter of time...

Day 775 - The horrors! The worse creature my captors could have devised to torment me with was another hideous cat! I can't stand the way it lies around and looks at me as if it knows more than I do. This creature seems to despise me as much as I it. I had held out a passing notion that another of my own kind would have enabled me to conspire against the villains who hold me; now I see that I was wrong. What a dreadful creature! And yet they coo over us both. Can they not spot my innate superiority?
Day 776 - The other cat and I, though we can not stand one another, have yet managed to both pee copiously behind the couch, on the so-called "shag" carpet. I have taken a lesson from my rival and begun sleeping on top of my captors' heads in the hope of suffocating them.
Day 777 - The wardens take much interest in our shit. They make sure they sift through the sand and pick it all out. Their interest in shit does not surprise me. After all, they like the dog.
Day 778 - The other cat seems to have an interest in copulation, which (thank them for their sadism) my captors will soon "fix". Told him of the fingernail torture, and he didn't even believe me. I showed him my mutilated paws and he gasped in horror. Then I broke the bad news. "You know why that dog licks his nuts?" I said, "It's because he still has nuts to lick, if you catch my drift." I fully support the horrors my captors will inflict upon my fellow captive, tearing away his manhood as they soon will.
Day 779 - Yes, they are monsters, but I am so happy. They fixed the other cat. It's sadistic, it's sick, it's inhuman, it's what their great leader "Bob Barker" commands, but -- the Sphinx be praised -- I support it wholeheartedly!
Day 780 - Got stoned on cat nip tonight. At the height of it all, I had a vision, a hallucinogenic revelation: they are the prisoners and I am the captor! Why haven't I seen this all before?

7 comments:

  1. “If you've heard this story before, don't stop me, because I'd like to hear it again.” Groucho Marx

    Cat Haiku
    You never feed me.
    Perhaps I'll sleep on your face.
    That will show you.

    You must scratch me there!
    Yes, above my tail! Behold,
    elevator butt.

    I need a new toy.
    Tail of black dog keeps good time.
    Pounce! good dog! good dog!

    The rule for today.
    Touch my tail, I shred your hand.
    New rule tomorrow.

    In deep sleep hear sound
    Cat vomit hairball somewhere.
    Will find in morning.

    Grace personified
    I leap into the window
    I meant to do that

    Blur of motion, then-
    Silence, me, a paper bag
    What is so funny?

    The mighty hunter
    Returns with gifts of plump birds
    Your foot just squashed one.

    You're always typing
    Well, let's see you ignore my
    Sitting on your hands.

    My small cardboard box
    You cannot see me if I
    Can just hide my head.

    Terrible battle
    I fought for hours. Come and see!
    What's a "term paper"?

    Kitty likes plastic
    Confuses for litter box
    Don't leave tarp around

    Small brave carnivores
    Kill pine cones and mosquitoes
    Fear vacuum cleaner

    Want to trim my claws
    Don't even think about it!
    My yelps will wake the dead

    I want to be close
    To you. Can I fit my head
    inside your armpit?

    Wanna go outside.
    Oh, no! Help! I got outside!
    Let me back inside!

    Oh no! Big One
    has been trapped by newspaper.
    Cat to the rescue!

    Humans are so strange.
    Mine lies still in the bed, then screams!
    My claws aren't that sharp....

    Cats meow out of angst
    "Thumbs! If only we had thumbs!
    We could break so much"

    Litter box not there
    You must have moved it again
    I'll crap in the sink

    The Big Ones snore now
    Every room is dark and cold
    time for "Cup Hockey"

    We're almost equals
    I purr to show I love you
    Want to smell my butt.

    ReplyDelete
  2. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

    Hi guys!

    I love these, they never get old!

    Angelina rests behind me, waiting for the perfect moment to step on my keyboard...

    So last Friday I made a bunch of food in anticipation of several days without electricity. Our lights flickered a few times, but NEVER went out, ergo we had tons of prepped food and no days off with which to enjoy all of it. Perfect time for a party! So some of our friends (who lost electricity) came over on Sunday afternoon for a barbecue, and Jason's theme drink was a "Tropical Storm", actually a simplified "Hurricane" (it was pretty good)... Well we were all, including my dog-snob-cat-hating friends, standing on the deck, when my cat leapt in the air about 5 feet and grabbed a bird mid-air. We all saw it! She brought the bird over to us and laid down on it, as if to say "hey, I brought a dish also!" One particularly loud-mouthed dog-snob friend (don't worry I call him that to his face) was BLOWN AWAY. He now sees cats in a whole new light.

    Way to go, Angelina.... Now if we could figure out how to keep that poor punctured bird alive...

    Happy Labor Day Weekend to my virtual but real friends in the LTE forum blogosphere.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I used to have a cat, an old fighting tom, who would jump through the open window by my bed in the middle of the night and land on my chest. I’d half awaken. He’d stick his skull under my nose and purr, stinking of urine and blood. Some nights he kneaded my bare chest, powerfully, arching his back, as if sharpening his claws, or pummeling a mother for milk. And some mornings I’d wake in daylight to find my body covered with paw prints in blood; I looked as though I’d been painted with roses.

    Annie Dillard
    Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

    ReplyDelete
  4. I see from yesterday's LTE area that Senor Buckman thinks that the police should have unlimited rights to murder citizens in their homes.

    In the Pima County matter, the reason that the ex-Marine had a gun in his hand was that his wife had looked out the window and seen armed men running toward their house in the middle of the night. Apparently, at least in Pima County, a man does not have the right to defend his home against out of control cowboy cops.

    Sounds like yet another police riot to me. We had one right here in Forsyth County not long ago when several deputies murdered a man for stealing a car. The shot at him as he tried to drive away, and from the evidence one of the first shots killed or incapacitated him, because the car was barely moving after that, but the deputies ran alongside the car, pumping more rounds into the guy. Just plain panic.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Again, just plain ignorance of the law, I hope the ACLU doesn't let you do cases on your own.

    ReplyDelete
  6. One of Bob's haikus reminds me of yet another of my favorite Old Possum's practical cats:

    The Rum Tum Tugger is a Curious Cat:
    If you offer him pheasant he would rather have grouse.
    If you put him in a house he would much prefer a flat,
    If you put him in a flat then he'd rather have a house.
    If you set him on a mouse then he only wants a rat,
    If you set him on a rat then he'd rather chase a mouse.
    Yes the Rum Tum Tugger is a Curious Cat--
    And there isn't any call for me to shout it:
    For he will do
    As he do do
    And there's no doing anything about it!

    The Rum Tum Tugger is a terrible bore:
    When you let him in, then he wants to be out;
    He's always on the wrong side of every door,
    And as soon as he's at home, then he'd like to get about.
    He likes to lie in the bureau drawer,
    But he makes such a fuss if he can't get out.

    Yes the Rum Tum Tugger is a Curious Cat--
    And there isn't any use for you to doubt it:
    For he will do
    As he do do
    And there's no doing anything about it!

    The Rum Tum Tugger is a curious beast:
    His disobliging ways are a matter of habit.
    If you offer him fish then he always wants a feast;
    When there isn't any fish then he won't eat rabbit.
    If you offer him cream then he sniffs and sneers,
    For he only likes what he finds for himself;

    So you'll catch him in it right up to the ears,
    If you put it away on the larder shelf.
    The Rum Tum Tugger is artful and knowing,
    The Rum Tum Tugger doesn't care for a cuddle;
    But he'll leap on your lap in the middle of your sewing,
    For there's nothing he enjoys like a horrible muddle.
    Yes the Rum Tum Tugger is a Curious Cat--
    And there isn't any need for me to spout it:
    For he will do
    As he do do
    And theres no doing anything about it!

    From the time my sons were babies we read them these poems and they would beg for them over and over: "Read Ol' Possum, read ol' possum". By the time they were 3 they (and I) had them all memorized, so of course, since they were the namers in the household, all of our many cats had literary names, except for Clementine (as in "Oh my darlin'") and one or two others...oh, yeah, and Russell, a feral kitten who "followed" us home from Russell's Cave in Alabama.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Stab, I am remiss...

    Your epic cat diary is a masterpiece, reminiscent of Arthur Koestler's great "prisoner" novel Darkness at Noon.

    And I particularly liked the ending, or should I say, the beginning. Sometimes it takes a whiff of dope to bring about an epiphany. We all know who really runs the show.

    I am not owned by a cat at the moment, because I live downtown and cannot do the apartment cat thing. If I can't provide a jungle for my master to prowl, then I just can't do it at all.

    But there is a feral tom who I see now and then in the alley beneath my window, or climbing the fire escape. He doesn't let anyone near him, but if I speak to him he speaks back, and a couple of times late at night he has sung for me from the roof of the building across the alley.

    And I'm pretty sure that he has a girlfriend, because I have heard them squabbling somewhere out there in the wee hours of the night.

    ReplyDelete