Eulogy for "Snack"

Oh Snack! How many days I watched you swim, the light glinting yummily off your silver scales.

Oh Snack! I traced the outline of your path with my paw, pressed my nose against the glass, and begged for Mom to let me eat you.

Oh Snack! I even came to visit you one day, then Mom & Dad bought you a stronger lid. I developed a fear of water, so you were safe.

Oh Snack! What an unceremonious way to go. In my belly would be much better than the toilet.

As I watched you circle around faster and faster, sucked down in the whirlpool I cried "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

I waited 9 freakin' years and I don't even get to eat the damn thing??!!

~Guennie

Peas and Mushy Chips....

~Sibyl

I like it when Momth's sick.....she lets me geth away with murder! In the last week I have taken the art of table begging to a new level. The Don would be proud of my coerthion skills.

I've discovered that the little green things called "peas" are terrific. A little hard to pick up when you have no teeth.....carpets are best 'cause they hold 'em still. Glass dishes, not so much- they roll everywhere! They seem solid, but when chomped- they explode, and require little subsequenth chewing. I think I like those...we should have them with every meal!

My number one fettith is chips. The rustle of cellophane coated foil bags will wake me out of a dead sleep two floors above. But wait- there's something even better! Last night Momth had something called "fries"...another word for mushy chips!! These are fantastic and much less crunchy. Plus they come in stick form.......all food should come in such fun shapeths!

What's for dinner tonight Momth?

Triumph!!

AHA!! I have triumphed over the "feedbag" at last! My caterwauling at the sunroom door showed Mom who's boss......she never knew what hit her.

And it was heaven! Of course, she unceremoniously hauled me back in after about an hour, stating that her feet were getting cold with the door open. What do I care? Put on some slippers! But for the brief time I spent in my chair, soaking in the sunbeam, smelling the crisp air sneaking in through the cracks around the patio door, then foraging for bug carcasses under the plant table, it was a little piece of heaven.

Now, who do I have to scratch to get spring to come so I can be out there all the time?

Jeesh Mom!!!

You'd think she'd get it by now......opposable thumbs!!! Without them, we do have need of a secretary to add to our blog.....hence it's inactivity over the past year. YEAR??? Jeesh mom.....yer slacking!

Where'd he go?

It's been 3 days without my Dad........I hope he's coming back soon.

The food's ok, my box is clean, but......

Mom just doesn't get it. The rubs are not the same. She doesn't do it like he does, and she doesn't have a built in cat scratcher on her chin. She really should grow one, come to think of it.

And the bed's not warm. How am I supposed to snuggle in without my warm crevice beside Dad? There's just this empty expanse of neatly folded blankets. Doesn't she realize that a messy bed is a comfy bed?

And I miss my UFC and Sports. All this foofy tv is making me soft. Maybe she thinks it will make me loving and sweet......yeah right!!!

Oh yeah.....the sunroom door's still closed too.

Dad......you can come home anytime. Pleeeeeeaaaasse............

"Glucosamamamine......whaths that?"

My paws are making wierd sounds. I was dancing on Momth as usual, and my widdle wrists started to crack with every step.......but I don't complain, and I love my Momth, so I keep dancing. They did the same thing when I danced on Dadth......I wonder why?

I had trouble licking my back leg today......and getting my leg up to scratch my ear. I think Momth noticed. She scratched it for me, which was a bonus! (and I got a cuddle!)

Momth brought me home a bottle of icky smelling pills....
glucoth.....glucoth.....glucothamamamine. She sayths that they will make me better. She sayths that Don Benecuzio has approved them to be used.....so they can't be all that bad. She sayths he takes them for his bummed paw (a result of a foiled hit) and that they will help to make my paws quiet. That's good. It's hard to concentrate on dancing with all that snapping going on.

I get to try them tonight.....I wonder whath they'll taste like? I hope it's toona. I like toona.

Even a cat can get motion sickness....jeez Mom!

Mom just doesn't get it. Ok, some things she gets- (pee on floor=trip to the V.E.T.), but other stuff (screaming cat=doesn't like car rides) goes right over her head. Someone needs to send mom a memo.

The good news is that it only took 2 weeks of peeing on the floor to convince Mom that I needed to go to see the V.E.T. I think the capper was that I tried the bathroom floor instead of the laundry room and Dad freaked. Now I know how to get attention faster for next time. Now, I really don't mind "the cage". Not that it's my favorite place to be, but it's relatively comfortable, and as long as Mom has washed it out, it doesn't reek to bad of Sibyl pee. I don't even mind the car......until it moves. Cats just weren't meant to move at that kind of speed. (Ok, maybe cheetahs- but I am hardly a cheetah.) And it doesn't matter how loud I yell, the car doesn't stop.

Then I get manhandled at the V.E.T., and Mom hands me over to get stabbed! Stabbed I tell you! Twice! The only bonus is that the firey pain in my tummy has been replaced by a nice fuzzy feeling. Mmmm....fuzzy. The car ride home wasn't so bad. But I still yelled for effect. Got to keep up appearances, you know.

I've been sleeping all day in my newest hiding place (Mom hasn't figured this one out yet).....'cause screaming really takes a lot out of you. Tomorrow Mom says we start the "pills". HA! I know what they are: nasty, chalky little things that they try to ram down my throat. They don't call me Houdini for nothing.......I have my ways. Little soggy pills seem to just appear out of nowhere on the floor about a half hour after they think I've swallowed them. I know nothing. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

But for now I'm going to go revel in my fuzzy feeling...I've got a couple hours before dinner to kill.


~Callie