My name is Suki, my human is a writer, and this is about my world. The world according to Suki The Cat. My humans smell funny, look weird, and I can't understand a thing they say, but they feed me, so hey, what are you gonna do?
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 FeedSpot.com’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: https://blog.feedspot.com/cat_blogs/
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.
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.)