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.

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.”


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’s top 200 cat blogs list. I’m number 138!! Hey, I’m estatic just to make the list!! Check it out: Their list of top cat blogs:

My Crappy Day

My little brother, Salem, and I end up at the Vet’s office today for our annual checkup. I’m healthy as can be, but whatever.

We are both sitting in our carrier and the prettiest tabby you ever laid eyes on walks up to us. Her hair is spun of gold I tell you, pure gold.

I can’t think of anything to say to her. Finally, I get so nervous my body starts to vibrate and before I can stop myself, “Purrrrrrrrrr.”

Oh my God! Did I just flipping purr out loud? Tabby’s eyes wrinkle up and she turns toward Salem, “Do you come here often?”

He just smiles and winks at her and they start chatting it up. Asshole.

They spend the next thirty minutes chatting while I hide in the back of the carrier.

This place blows.

My Little Brother Brags Too Much, So……

Lately, my little brother Salem has been bragging like a dog about his two dates with Shorthair. It fluffs my tail if you know what I mean.

So, needless to say, I was not in the most gracious mood today.

Salem saunters over to take a sip of water out of our new water dish.

I hold up my paw, “Halt! You can’t drink out of that.”

Salem’s mouth drops open and he stares at me, “Why not?”

“That dish is sacred. Do you see that chip on the edge? It is said that it came from the human who is a cousin to the human who once pet Grumpy Cat’s real live mother.” My paw flourishes over the dish to show the magnitude of the situation.

He steps back in awe, “Ahh, I had no idea.”

I puff up my chest with pride and lower my voice in respect of “the dish”. I point a paw toward our human’s bathroom toilet, “You may drink from there.”

Salem trots off and I snicker as I drink the sweet water of revenge.

Nightly Games

Salem and I are playing our nightly game of Truth or Dare. I look at him and say, “I dare you to go from the living room to the kitchen without touching the floor.”

“Easy peasy,” he waves a paw at me. He turns and bounds from the top of the sofa to the back of the chair in one glorious leap that rivals that of any leopard. Then he soars from the back of the chair to the breakfast bar. As he slides across it, he knocks off two cups before careening to a stop.


He smiles and looks at me, “My turn. Truth or Dare?”

My physical prowess tends to rival that of the fat cat Garfield than anyone else, so why embarrass myself? “Truth.”

Salem narrows his eyes at me, “Did you tell Shorthair that I have fleas?”

“Ummm…” (What I said was that I saw a flea on you. Really, I don’t know how these things get so exaggerated.)


Questionable Choices

The life of a cat is really only as exciting as you make it. And Salem and I like to make it exciting. At least fun. Today we decided to go check out “teenager’s” room.

We walk in and it’s a virtual pig sty. In cat world, it’s a treasure trove of things to smell, scratch, and places to hide.

Salem and I immediately start sniffing around. Right off I spot a plate with a small brown lump-like object on it. I point a paw, “I dare you to eat that.”

Salem’s eyebrows raise and a grin spreads across his face. “Challenge accepted.”

He bends down and sniffs it. His face contorts as though he ate a lemon. I can tell it must be something foul, but I know my brother. He has his pride.

He leans over and forces it down in one gulp. My paw flies to my mouth as my breakfast tuna almost makes a reappearance. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

He burps with satisfaction and smiles at me.

Later that day, I stumble across the gruesome trail Salem leaves behind on his way to the litter box.

Maybe we should stick to hide and seek.

Suki: M.D. To The Overdramatic

Salem, my little brother, staggers into the living room, swaying to and fro.

“Are you on the “nip” again?”

“Oh,” he swoons and places his paw to his forehead dramatically, “I’m wounded. You have to help me,” and he lays out on the floor in front of me moaning softly.

I look him over seeing no obvious signs of injury. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s my paw. It hurts real bad.” He raises a feeble paw up for me to inspect.

I look it over. “Ah, I see.” Stuck in the pad of his front right paw is a tiny Lego. I shake my head solemnly, “Well, we might be able to save the leg.”

Salem lets out another moan and looks as though he might faint. He closes his eyes. I smile.

“Any last words? You know, just in case?”

He comes to for a second and moans louder. I peel off the Lego and toss it aside.

“Okay. It was touch and go for a moment but I’ve done it. I’ve saved your leg,” I lower my voice, “and your life.”

Salem opens his eyes and smiles at me. “Oh man, you’re the best brother in the world. I’ll never mess with you again.” And he trots off happy to be alive.

Yeah, I did that. I gave him the gift of a near death experience because he’s my brother and I love him.

I later bill him five tuna treats for my services.

What Brothers Are Really For

I look at our food dishes and see somthing new and peculiar in them. This may be exciting for other felines, but around here, we know better. The things called “leftovers” are to be avoided at all cost. We’ve discovered that they are usually covered in a thick layer of black or can chip your teeth. Neither of which is appealing.

I take my paw and slowly lift the mysterious food item up and inspect it from every angle. I turn it over, gently handling it with the care of explosives about to go off. You never know.

Then I sniff it from all sides. Huh. It seems okay. I think it is something called “takeout”. But still, I do the responsible thing.


Salem bounds in, “What?”

I point to his dish, “Look, new food.”

He Hoovers it up in two bites. Licking his lips, he smiles and trots off. I wait ten seconds to see if he falls over dead.

Nope. Now, that’s what brothers are for.


I’ve been preening all day and working up the nerve to talk to the cute new black and white shorthair that’s been hanging around our yard lately.

I smooth out my fur, fluff up my tail and walk over to the window. She’s sitting right in front. Yowsa!

I strut right up to her and just as I’m about to make my move, my brother Salem walks up to me, points a paw at his teeth and says, “You got a little something right here.”

You suck. You suck. You suck. As I slink away I notice her making googly eyes at him.

#HeEatsOutOfTheTrashYouKnowButWhatever #BrothersAreTheWorst


I’m bored, so I look around to see what Salem is up to. I spot him in front of the doorway window making googley eyes at the neighborhood alley cat, Cupcake.

Since I’m pretty sure he would be happy to have his girlfriend witness his pudgy, orange-haired older brother come by and lick him on the head right now, I decide to dart right over as fast as I can.

Life is good.


I can hear our human yelling. Salem is hiding in his box.

“What happened? Is our human mad?”

“Oh yeah. She keeps yelling at me and I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

“Did you check her food first to see if it’s too hot?”


“Did you fluff her sweater like I showed you?”

“Yep, first thing this morning.”

“Well, she did buy a new pair of shoes yesterday. Maybe they smell like dog or something. I think you should go mark them for her. That should make her happy.”

“Really? Gee, thanks.”

“What are big brothers for?” #That’sRight.ISawYouEatMyTreatsLastNight #MessWithSukiYouGetTheClaws


I walk into the living room and I see Salem scratching up our human’s sofa. Now, I don’t know why, but this usually makes her very, very mad. Sometimes, she even sprays us with water when we do it, which is annoying as shit. So, I do the only thing a big brother can do in a situation like this:

I point my paw and grin, “You missed a spot.” #She’sGoingToDouseYourAssInWater #Payback’sABitchAin’tItNapBoy?


I am having trouble falling asleep for my nap today and naps are my life.

I am having trouble partly because I can’t get comfortable (I can tell Salem has been sleeping in my spot) and partly because he said he was going to come over and smear drool on my face while I slept because I didn’t give him some of my tuna treats earlier. Okay, it’s mostly because of that. #ICan’tWaitUntilOurHumanGetsADogOneDayAndHeKicksYourAss