Pizza! Score!

I am one lucky cat! Mommy made pizza last night - pepperoni AND sausage and cheese. She refused to share with us and the part she didn't eat, she covered with this mesh thingy so I couldn't just to the kitchen and help myself. But then . . .

She went to bed and the pizza was still there! She claims she forgot, but I don't know . . . So all I had to do last night was hop on the counter, push the mesh thingy away from the cookie sheet and knock that pizza to the floor and . . . Wow! I especially ate the crust. It was so good, but too much too eat so I left the rest on the kitchen floor for mommy in case she wanted to finish it.

And what did she do when she came in this morning? Yelled at us and threw the pizza away! I just will never understand her! Why am I a bad cat?

Ciao-miao!

~Rufus

Finally! Mutzi gets hers!

Finally! Mutzi gets in trouble! She's so perfect, never getting in trouble, never jumping on the counters, or pulling down the trash can (even if she does get into the trash after I do the hard work of pulling it down).



Mommy had to wash Mutzi's feet, because she got, what mommy called, "litter feet." So mommy held my sister's back feet under the kitchen faucet and washed them. Of course Mutzi had to make a lot of noise. And, well, at first I thought mommy was hurting her so I had to add my own loud voice. But when she listened to us and put her down . . . Mutzi's feet and tail were soaking wet! How funny! She didn't think it was funny, but I did. After all when she gets "gravy nose," mommy usually uses a special wet wipe on Mutzi.



But when I get "poo tail," mommy washes me, so it's finally time Mutzi gets in trouble! It's a good day! Now to see what's on the counter while mommy's at work . . .



Ciao-maio!



~Rufus

A Cat is Entitled to Cake, Pizza, French Fries...

I just don't get it. Life's unfair when you're a cat. For instance, mommy was eating pizza. So I jumped on on her lap and grabbed a piece for myself. All she did was yell at me and push me down. Then there's the time she had cake. She left the box on the counter. Which I don't know why since I'm not allowed on the counter so I couldn't help myself to any cake. So I very quickly jumped up, knoced the box to the kitchen floor and had some cake. What happens? She comes running in, yelling and taking the cake away! Or the time she was eating chicken. I politely waited until she ate most of the meat off the piece and so very kindly thought she's done, why couldn't I have that piece? What happens? I jump up, take a firm grip of the chicken so it won't fall and she shakes me by my scruff and yells at me. Again! I really couldn't understand this! Or the time she was eating ice cream. I asked over and over again, even meowing quite loudly so she knew it was me that I wanted some ice cream too. Denied. So I jumped up, put my paw in the bowl and scooped up a very tiny amount of ice cream and had a taste. What could be wrong with that? Apparently everything! I don't mind the food my sister and I get in the mornings and evenings, but seriously, I have to share! Even when I eat mine first and move on to eat my sister's food, mommy pulls me away and then stands over us. If Mutzi can't eat her food fast enough, why can't I eat it? I'm a growing kitty -- I have needs. And rights. Mutzi always sits there quietly waiting for mommy to give her treats -- she's such a kiss up. I cuddle with mommy, I purr for her and rub my head on her chin. So why won't she allow me my right to everything she eats? Sometimes she'll give me some of her food which is why I have to take what I want. But now mommy says I have impulse control issues. So when I do get treats, I have to sit on the ground and wait while mommy counts to ten before I'm allowed. What made her think of that inhumane torture? I have to WAIT before I get a treat? While Mutzi's allowed on the chair because she has three legs and can't sit up as well? Three legs don't stop her from attacking me -- I can tell you that! But that's another story. Have to see what's in the trash before mommy gets home . . . Why does she get mad when I knock it down? She's the one who bought the big trash bin that makes it hard for me to reach inside for what I want.

Ciao-miao!

~Rufus