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Perfect Spot for a Nap
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Notice: The Catnip Times does not condone friendship with dogs. Any and all contact with the slobbery beasts should be carried out with extreme distain and caution. Drool may come into contact with perfectly groomed fur. Proceed at your own risk.
Filed under Funny
Reduced to Scavenging
Today hasn’t been a good day. The human had the nerve to ignore my demand for treats. This is unacceptable.
First she pulled her foot back under the covers when I attempted to politely wake her with a gentle grooming. Then she rudely told me I had tuna breath, and pushed me (me!) off the bed when I went to make sure she was still breathing. It’s not my fault if my whiskers brushed her face.
I had no choice but to wait until she decided to get up. However I did make sure to remind her a few times, just in case she forgot that it was treat time. She finally got up. I felt the comment about me being a noisy brat was uncalled for.
Instead of getting me treats immediately, she took a shower. I didn’t mind that too much, since I needed my shower too. She took too long, but I graciously waited my turn on my private waiting rug. I’m glad I removed it from the toilet and placed it closer to the shower door, I can keep my place in line and still have my fuzzy round rug.
I’m not sure what the human did while I showered, but I was certain I had given her plenty of time to locate and dispense the treats. Sadly she seems to be entirely too lazy today, and there were no treats to be found.
I tried explaining to her that it wasn’t too much to ask that treats be delivered on request. But she appeared distracted by the colorful yarn I brought downstairs with me. Still winding yarn, she asked if I was hungry, to which I replied yes of course. She checked my special food area, but said I had food and water and I was just being a silly cat. It must have been the yarn distracting her again, because I’m sure I clearly said I needed treats, not food.
I lost track of what the human did next, as I had a rather itchy spot that demanded my full attention. When I went to look for her a while later she was posting yarn pictures to her blog. Now, one can never have enough yarn pictures, but I felt that she might need a bit of editorial advice. I assisted for a few minutes until I felt she had made improvements on the post, and then I reminded her that treats were still on the to do list, and that I couldn’t nap until they were served. She scratched me behind the ears and put me on the floor. It seemed she was about to comply, finally.
Then there was a knock at the door. The human’s mother came in for a visit, and I noted that she had clearly already distributed treats once that morning. Since my human was distracted by her kittens, I turned to her mother with my problem. Sadly she turned me down, reminding me that she doesn’t have the authority to distribute treats at my house. My assurance that it would be ok just this once simply made her smile and pat me on the head.
By this time I was understandably annoyed. I placed myself in a patch of sun in the middle of the room, and placed my head on my paws. I added in a bit of tail lashing, and several large sighs, just to get my point across. Even the sound of the can opener didn’t tempt me from my pose. It was just the human feeding tuna to her young after all.
Hold on a moment, tuna? Well, not exactly a treat…but I couldn’t turn down tuna. Perhaps a little tuna would be ok until the treats were delivered. Arriving in the kitchen a few minutes later (I didn’t want to appear too eager) I found that there was plenty of tuna within easy reach, thanks to the messy kittens.
I was desperate, you understand. So, after making sure to announce that I’d been forced to it, I settled in to clean up the tuna from the floor. Yes, the floor. I know that the floor is usually left to the dog, but you understand these were desperate circumstances. I was clearly suffering from treat withdrawal.
So, here I sit. The human went off to put her young down for naps, and I am still treat less. All traces of tuna have been removed from the kitchen, with the help of my young assistant Peaches, and there is no telling when the treats will be served, if at all. I desperately need a nap, but if I give in, the human will have won. I can’t allow that to happen. She might start to get ideas.
Wait, is that the sound of a treat bag? I better go find out.
- Monty
Filed under Atop the Scratching Post
