The Feral Life

Salem and I are looking out our window when we see this little bitty calico kick this labrador’s ass!! Our mouths drop open and we just stare in disbelief. I mean, she is some kind of fierce. I don’t know what he did to piss her off, but she’s giving him the business.

When he finally slinks away, she turns toward us and hisses. I peed a little, and Salem hid behind the curtain. I’m not 100% certain, but I’m pretty sure we’re not ready for the streets.

Salem later recalls to me how he told her, “you better not pull that crap on me.” I blink, “You said that to her?”

He points a paw toward his face, “With my eyes. I said it with my eyes.”

I stare at him and ask, “Can you tell what I’m saying with my eyes right now?”

A Contest I Can Win

My little brother Salem and I are sitting at our dinner plates overflowing with Kibble, when he moans, “Today sucks. Shorthair hasn’t returned my calls in days.”

“Big deal,” I reply, “I haven’t had a girl call me back all year.”

He stops eating and cuts his eyes at me, “Yeah, well, our last date sucked too. When I got home, I realized I had a piece of tuna stuck in between my teeth.”

“Please,” I roll my eyes, “the last time I had a date, it was with a Chihuahua.” I pause for effect, “and she gave me fleas.”

“Well, Shorthair told everyone I had bad breath. Felines all down the block were snickering at me for weeks.”

“So what? The Chihuahua said she only went out with me because of my pic on CATch.com.”

So.”

So, she thought I was a gerbil.”

Salem takes his paw and pushes his plate towards me, “You win.”

I scarf down the Kibble and think, “Damn right, I win. Nobody sucks more than I do,” oddly feeling better that I won at something.

Being a Big Brother at 5 a.m.

I hear my human’s alarm clock go off so I patiently sit by my food dish. A minute later my food dish is shockingly still empty. I trot over to her room to see what disaster has screwed up my mealtime.

I nod at Salem, “Is she awake yet?”

He shakes his head, “No, she hasn’t moved a muscle.”

I raise an eyebrow, “Hmm.” I glance over at the bed, “I bet she’s just pretending to be asleep.”

Salem stares at me, “Would a human really do that?”

He’s so naive. I flick out my claws and with one good tap of her foot, she bolts upright.

“HEY!”

I glance back at Salem with all the smugness I can muster, “See.”

Two seconds later breakfast is served. He has so much to learn.

Who Did it Better? Birthdays of the Past Edition

I walk into the room, and I see my little brother Salem dropping a dead mouse onto our human’s bed.

“What are you doing with that?” I ask him.

“I caught it for our human. You know it’s her birthday today, right?”

Yesss,” I reply. (Damn it!)

Not to be outdone by my little brother, I return with the remote I hid a week ago.

Ah, Saturday With My Brother

It’s a typical Saturday morning, and I find myself pinned to the floor with my little brother Salem sitting on top of me.

“Say it. Say I’m the king.” He looks me square in the eyes and smiles.

“No! You’re not the king. You’re a fat-faced doo-doo head who couldn’t catch a mouse if he had opposable thumbs,” I sputter in defiance. I find it is important not to lose my dignity in these kinds of situations.

In a bold and classic sibling move, he grabs my tail and holds it, flicking and twitching, to my face. “Why are you hitting yourself? Why are you hitting yourself?” he mocks.

“AAhhhh! Stop that!” He finally releases his grip, and I wiggle out from under him. With one swipe of my paw, I slap his stupid face and flee to my human’s room where I know I will have protection.

Later that day, Salem mysteriously finds his favorite stick toy floating in the toilet. I sit and watch from my human’s bed in delight as he fishes it out. Well played, Suki. Well played, I tell myself.

It is only later, as I start to take a nap, I pause and wonder if it is wise to close my eyes right now?

I’m On The Move

My humans are in the middle of moving to another state this week so I am currently staying at a hotel.

Hotels suck.

Apparently, there are two classes of hotels. There are regular hotels with their clean crisp sheets and fancy doors that lock, and then there are hotels that allow pets.

Yes, mine is the one with sketchy alley cats hanging out in the parking lot peddling catnip and questionable Frooskie’s treats out of the back of their carriers. I attempted to hide under the bed when strange noises began emanating from the other side of the wall but a mean butterfly had already claimed that spot.

My little brother Salem acted all tough at first, like he was some kind of badass feral and in his element, but the first time a cat with matted fur and missing teeth approached him asking for some tuna, he ran and hid in the bathroom. A bathroom, by the way, I could swear had the chalk outline of a terrier on its floor.

It’s scary as crap. Rumors are flying around that the only food available on the streets is dry and off-brand. Consequently, I’m doing everything I can not to get shut out of the room accidentally.

If you don’t hear from me again, there’s a good chance I’ve met my demise and some rabid little Shih Tzu is picking bits of me out of his teeth.

Flirting Advice From Salem

I’m staring out the window, admiring this cute feline from down the road when my little brother Salem comes over.

“You gotta make your move, man. She’s never going to notice you if you don’t.”

“I don’t have a move,” I answer, bowing my head. I’m just not as smooth with the ladies.

He waves a paw, “Catch a spider in front of her. That drives the girls wild.”

I shake my head, “I can’t do a spider. They creep me out.”

Salem laughs at me, “Then catch something else, Duffus.” He turns and taps the glass causing her to look my way.

Ack! I’m not prepared. I quickly glance around and begin flailing about at a fly. Then I arch my back, puff up my tail, bend down and eat it.

Salem’s mouth drops open, he raises an eyebrow and looks to the floor, “What was that?”

I keep my head low and mumble, “A raisin. A dusty old raisin.” I slink away with the fly following me.

Ode to a Grasshopper

Sasha, Salem, and I are sitting in the living room window admiring the various wildlife outside when we all spy a small cricket at the same time. Ah, nature. It’s a beautiful thing.

Salem points a paw at it and says, “Oh, I could have that eaten in one second.”

I roll my eyes, “Sure you could, it’s tiny.”

Irked, he gestures to a larger grasshopper sitting on the deck, “I could eat that, too,” then he grins, “all in one bite!”

We all look at the grasshopper in wonder, sitting in the golden sunlight, its green legs tapping the deck. Out of nowhere, a large hairy brown spider, the size of a human’s skull, rips the grasshopper’s head off and devours it whole.

My eyes pop out. Sasha faints.

Salem gulps, “I think I need to go clean my stick toy now.”

If we ever get the urge to view animals in the wild again, we will turn on the T.V. and watch Pets of The Real Housewives.

Hmpf!

My little brother Salem has been seeing a feline named Shorthair recently. I don’t know what she sees in him and not me. He drools and snores for Pete’s sake. What has he got that I haven’t? I look over at him, sleeping on the floor, with that stupid smug look on his face. I just want to smack it.

He just thinks he’s better than me now doesn’t he? I’ll bet they just sit around laughing at me. He probably tells her that I’m just his little servant. A loser kitty with fleas who can’t get a date. He probably jokes that dogs won’t even date me.

I cut my eyes at him sleeping over there like some kind of king. Who does he think he is anyway?

I start to walk away and as I pass by him he opens his eyes and asks, “Is dinner ready?”

I bitch slap him. “Dating has changed you.”

The Only Party Trick I Know

I’m trying to nap when Salem walks up to me smiling.

“Hey, watch this.” He proceeds to run in cirlces while balancing a stack of Friskies treats on his head.

“And what are you doing?” I ask as I stare at him.

“It’s a party trick. All the cool cats do them.”

I just blink.

“Okay, smartass. What can you do?”

He didn’t think it was too funny when I ate the treats and ran.

Driving Lessons

The front door slams shut with a loud bang. Salem and I watch as our human stomps in with Teenager following.

“Are you insane?! You could have killed us!”

“For the last time, I thought that was the brakes! You don’t even like the neighbors anyway. Get over it!”

Salem takes a step back, “What is happening to our human?”

“Oh,” I wave my paw, “she’s just teaching Teenager how to drive.”

“Geez, do you think she learned?”

“I doubt it. They never got out of the driveway.”

Brothers

As my brother Salem is sitting on top of me, pinning me down, a large drop of spittle is forming in the corner of his mouth. As brothers often do, he threatens to let it drop on my face if I don’t submit to his will.

“Say it. Say you won’t touch my things ever again.”

I can’t help but stare at the drool forming into a large droplet dangling precariously from his lips. It could drop at any moment and yet I surprisingly hold firm. “NO.”

He grins and shakes his head causing the droplet to start to separate from his mouth. “Swear you won’t take anything of mine again!” He leans closer so that his face is within one inch of mine and says it one more time with gusto, “Sweaaaaar it!”

“Aaaaah, I swear. I swear,” I utter as his claws dig into my chest.

He lifts his body off of mine and struts away in triumph. Sitting up, I shake his loose hairs off of me. I glance over and see that his food dish still has several Friskies treats in it. Hmm, I scratch my head. I wonder what flavor those are?

If only there were some way to find out.

Oh, What Fresh Hell Is This?

It’s been a rough day. The little humans are always home now. I never get a moment of peace or privacy anymore. And I have places that need to be licked. Feeling the mounting stress, I find a warm stream of light to relax in.

I reach for a nice Friskies tuna flavored cat treat and realize the pouch is empty. You always think it’s going to happen to someone else.

I hold firm and don’t cry. Okay, I cry. I cry a lot. Then I eat an entire pouch of the lesser-known Frooskies cat treats my human bought me once thinking I wouldn’t notice. Asshole.

Life is hard sometimes.

Flirting 101

I finally relent and allow my big brother Salem teach me how to flirt. He seems to have a lot more success with the females than I do, so I figure, why not?

He stands in front of me and says, “Ok, show me what you got.”

I proceed to wink. Half my face seizes up on one side and both my eyes close instead of one. He stares at me blankly.

“What. Was. That?”

“A wink?”

“Stop that.”

“No good?”

“I almost called 911 for you.”

I throw my paws up in the air and walk away, “I give up.” I hear Chihuahuas aren’t very picky.

I’m Bored

Out of the corner of my eye I see my little brother Salem walking by. I immediately sit up and begin biting the air.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“I’m pretending to eat your birthday cake,” I pause for dramatic effect, “and it’s goooood.”

His eyes bulge, “STOP THAT RIGHT NOW!”

I smile, “No,” and continue to eat the fake cake.

“That’s mine!! Cut it out!”

“Oh, wait,” I pause and smile, “I haven’t blown out the candles yet.”

“You’re going to die!” He races toward me.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” I haul ass into the next room and spend the better part of the night hiding under the bed. Times are good.

Ah, Siblings…

My little brother Salem has been sleeping on the floor for the last hour when he wakes up and glances around confused, “Where’d my sunbeam go?”

I smile, “Oh, I turned it off. Sorry.”

He cuts his eyes at me, “Well turn it back on.”

“No.”

He stands up and says a bit louder, “I said, ‘turn it back on’.”

I said, ‘No’.”

Salem crouches down, preparing to lunge, “Turn. It. On!”

I race away screaming, “Noooooooooooooo!”

P.S. I just wanted to share that I made FeedSpot.com’s top 200 cat blogs list. I’m number 123!! Hey, I’m estatic just to make the list!! Check it out: Their list of top cat blogs: https://blog.feedspot.com/cat_blogs/

Nightime Conversations With Suki


I’m relaxing at night while the little humans are asleep and my little brother Salem comes running up to me.

“My food dish is empty. What am I supposed to do again?”

“Well, it’s 2am. Have you ran across our human’s bed yet?”

“Check.”

“Have you sat on her head yet?”

“Check.”

“Have you knocked off all the shit on her nightstand yet?”

“I’ll be right back.”

Argh!!!

I walk into the bedroom and my little brother Salem is napping away. I clear my throat and remind him, “Our human is going to be mad if you don’t go and pick up your toys.”

He opens one eye halfway and responds, “I need a nap.”

“No you don’t, you just had one.”

“But I haven’t taken my meds yet, I’m exhausted,” he stretches his paws forward and closes his eyes again.

I scream in frustration, “They’re Tartar Control Friskies Bites! Stop calling them ‘your meds’!!”