Teabag and I just wanted to share some festive love and positivity this week.
There has been some debate lately regarding how and when you should treat your cat. Let me just say… IGNORE EVERYTHING DASHA SAYS!
Your cat is amazing and superior and should have treats all the time. In fact, the first thing you should do in the morning, is load your pockets up with treats so you always have them handy. Treatworthy events include; napping, walking, breathing, purring, going outside, coming inside, walking on the kitchen counter, sitting on cushions, looking out of the window, playing with the red dot or the feather and eating.
Extra special double treats should be given at bath time and trips to the vet and for sitting quietly while being poked, probed, injected, for suffering the indignity of being put in a box, on birthdays and special occasions (we cats hold all major and minor religious festivals, from all religions, bank holidays, significant calendar events involving people we like such as Ghandi’s first day of school and Salvador Dali’s first moustache (you’ll need to ask your cat for the full list, but to be safe just assume every day is a significant day) and all special days pertaining specifically to cats. You are also obliged to double treat when your cat has been especially cute or funny or has attained a view on YouTube of said funny or cute action.
There is absolutely no excuse for withholding treats.
Now I know I’m just a cat, but I really don’t understand this “thinking outside the box” thing. Everyone knows boxes are for playing in… and occasional naps. Serious thinking, can only be done under the bed, and that’s a fact!
Dasha has written a lot about cats, in fact all you peoples have, you think you know everything. So I think its time that we cats told you a few things about yourselves. We cats do our best to look after you but a lot of advice goes unheeded. First – you work too much, work, work, work. Even on your days off you find excuses to work. You’re all so stressed and that’s bad because it makes you sick, and if you’re sick, then who will get the food? You need to look after yourselves better than you do and you need to chill out, now some of you (those of you who understand what we cats try to show you) are good at relaxing, and some of you, Dasha included, are horrific bad at it.
Despite my best efforts and my cutest and fluffiest attempts to get Dasha to stop doing stupid things, (like washing her car just before she goes out and gets it all dirty all over again an hour later) she still won’t slow down. So it’s time to teach her, and you, how to chill out like a cat. So you can feel better and happier and live for longer.
I joined Twitter today. I’m a bit disappointed. I thought there would be more birds.
I know Dasha thinks I dream of chasing mice. I would be annoyed, but I have better things to do, and it’s not her fault, she’s just a People, and all cats know that all People are simple-minded. It’s one of the reasons we domesticated them and have stuck around for so long looking after them.
The truth is, I dream of air that is hot and dry. Air that is alive and twisting in the heat. Alive, but without breath. The grassland is thirsty and still. As I stalk, silently my paws disturb tiny particles of dirt which rise in tendrillous curls around my claws, which twitch and wait impatiently to be unleashed. Then the scent, teases my whiskers and nostrils, I breathe in deeply, my heart races, I feel blood pounding inside my head. But I wait. I must move closer, unseen, invisible. I am the dry brittle parched grass, I am the dust, I am the air, shimmering and writhing in the scorching sun. I feel my muscles tense, the beating in my heat is getting louder, I burst out of the grass, paws tearing and scraping at the earth. The herd is running too, but I don’t see them, I have my prey in sight and I can see nothing else. It starts, runs the wrong way, away from the herd. I knew it would. I am at its side, I smell its fear and sweat as I leap up and sink my teeth into the back of its neck. I hear its pained, panicked lowing, the sound makes me tighten my jaw.. A lioness comes alongside and sinks her beautiful claws into the struggling buffalo, our weight pulls it down onto its knees. It will all be over soon, the lioness takes its throat in her powerful jaws and crushes its windpipe. Then I wake up.
…Mice I ask you, there are far more terrible and glorious acts to dream of than those that result in the death of a mouse.
Due to overwhelming public demand…. I have this new amazing blog! Now you don’t have to wait for Dasha to Email or WhatsApp you the extraordinary details of my comings and goings and all round fabulousness! I feel like I should say, thank you to all my fans… but really it’s you who should be saying thank you to me. So I’ll just say “I’m The Best” and we’ll leave it at that. I hope you enjoy my blog.