Mewterial Girl

Meowllo!

Contrary to what mew might think, I am not a mewterial girl. I don't ask for much. However, I am not a complete traitor to catdom, in that I am very picky about the few things that I do ask for, such as food (no peas, please, as I have documented before) and where I don't appreciate being touched (don't fiddle with my paws!), and how long I will allow mew to hold me when mew're standing (no more than 24 seconds). Also, I have the glower and glare down pat, and I excel at being not only aloof but actually turning my back toward mew to demonstrate that I am actively ignoring mew.

But when I saw the item pictured here, while doing some research on the internet this morning, I almost got as excited as a dog does when mew just look his way. Here is the description from Target's website:

Inspired by an old-fashioned gumball machine, the Kitty Kitchen Food and Treat Dispenser invites your cat to help herself to a tasty reward. Made with a turn-wheel that can be easily spun with the touch of a paw, the sturdy design is simple for most cats to learn to use. (A diploma is included for when your cat masters this trick.) Place on a countertop for a whimsical addition to your kitchen or pantry. Dispenser is red, black and gray, with colorful fabric accents on the turn-wheel.

Although I am deeply in love with this thing, I do not appreciate that Target thinks there are some of us who wouldn't be able to learn to use it. We are cats, after all. I will be happy to receive my diploma, though.

What I can't figure out, though, is how to get my mom to get this for me (she's going to Target on Saturday!) without actually asking for it. Any advice???

Redemption!

Meowllo!

The good mews is that we don't think my mom has swine flu. We know that swine flu, like all other diseases, is nothing to laugh about, but given that my mom has, over the years, thought she was stricken with everything from polio to prostate cancer, we have to laugh when she finds herself thinking she may have whatever the latest disease is making headlines.

Oddly enough, she never thought she had SARS. Go figure.

So, anyway, she just got back from the store with a new box of litter for me, and she redeemed 45 Paw Points over at the Fresh Step website. So far, she's accrued 590 points, which is almost enough to get me a bed that I would never use. She says she's not going to redeem them until she has enough to buy me my own brownstone here on the Upper West Side.

I just hope she doesn't contract taxoplasmosis before that.

Nothing much :-(

Meowllo!

Nothing much going on around here, I'm afraid(y cat). My mom's been sick since Mewsday morning and hasn't left the house at all -- not even to go to the gym, which for her is a big deal. She says she feels like something out of my litter box, and I'm trying not to be offended.

We've been taking lots of naps, but I've gotta say it's a LOT cuter when I do it. I mean, mew don't see ME drooling on the pillowcases, do mew? Absolutely not. Disgusting.

Slouching is Sexy

Meowllo!

If mewr mom is anything like mine, she's probably telling mew at least half a dozen times a day to sit up straight and to wipe that scowl off mewr face. She's probably also guzzling Diet Coke or coffee like there's no tomorrow and crying over TV commercials that feature dogs (the nerve!) or laughing like an absolute idiot for no reason. If mew are anything like me -- and I KNOW mew are! -- mew want to tell her to leave mew alone and let mew do what mew do best, which is slouch and glower.

As mew can see, I have mastered the art form.

What's it all about, Meowfie?

Meowllo!

I'm meowing quite a bit these days, but I have no idea why. My roommate gives me plenty of attention, as does this man-person-thing who visits and stays overnight and whose various bags I pay great tribute to by honoring them with maniacal pawing almost immediately upon his entry. I like the food she gives me. She keeps my litter box clean. She encourages me to acquaint myself with cockroaches and lets me see for myself that it's raining on the patio by opening the door. And not only does she leave the bathroom door open a little so I can lounge by the tub, but she calls that room my "den". So, what's my problem? Why am I such an ingrate?

Or am I trying to tell her something else when I look up at her and meow out of the blue?

What do you mew think? Should I just shut up? Or should I see a purr-apist?

Nine Years!

Meowllo!

This person I live with just looked down at me and started jabbering some mumbo-jumbo in a singsong voice that makes her sound like one of those "cat mommies" she swore she would never become. I was busy pivoting on my shapely bottom, delicately licking the sleek black fur of my right paw (the one I write with, but, oddly enough, not the one I shuffle cards or brush my teeth with), minding my own business, daydreaming about this weekend, when she'll be away for a few days and I'll have the whole palace (no, that's not a typo -- I mean palace, not just "place") to myself, and she started reaching down as if to rub my stomach a/k/a cause me to lose my balance and topple over like a Weeble that has finally fallen down. It took me a few seconds to decipher her prattle.

It was this: HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, SHANA! HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!

Nine whole years? One for each of the lives I'm supposed to have? Wow!

And then I realized, well, this is all very well and good, but ... where's my cake? Where's the brouhaha and hullaballoo? Where's the mahi-mahi?

It's an anniversary, sure, but I'm not too happy!

MEOWMEOW!!!