Thursday, September 3, 2009

Humans are wussies

Hey to you out there. Apparently, my human has some things to take care of in her life (yawn, yawn, and double yawn), so I will be taking a break from dictating my immortal words of wisdom for a little while. I hope you have enjoyed the pearls I have dispensed (you can take 'pearls' to mean whatever you will), and I will be back. Don't worry. There is much more I have to say.
Signing off for now.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Ariel's Top 5 TV Shows; An Exploration

Hey lady! I know that lately you have been a bit disappointed by how much tv I have been watching, but in my defense, I'M BORED. Also, there are some intriguing and frankly enlightening and educational programs out there. What's that? Name a few? With pleasure.

1. 10 Things I Hate About You- Do I have to limit it to just 10?
2. Prison Break- Inspirational!
3. Rescue Me- 'Nuf said.
4. Bones- I haven't actually seen any of the squirrel variety yet, but I expect to soon.
5. True Blood- True, false, whatever. Delicious!

And in case you were wondering, yes, I am trying to tell you something.

Monday, August 31, 2009

The Personal Ad Files: Single Tabby Looking for Love!

Hey lady! You may think of me as your "pet cat", but I'm a fabulous single tabby, and I'm looking for love. I'm also looking for a way out of this dump. Since you have opposable thumbs and I don’t, I’m going to need you to get your big butt off the couch and place this ad for me in the local paper.

The ad should read:

I am a beautiful, single tabby with green eyes and long furs, looking to escape the mundane and boring existence that is my life. I enjoy hunting, fishing, catnaps, wine tasting, backyard barbecues, hot tubbing, culinary delights, bird watching, arts and crafts, pillows, and wicker furniture, just to name a few.

Ethnicity: Norwegian Forest Cat mixed with Feline Goddess

Height: 12 inches

Weight: None of your business! Did my human tell you to ask me that question?

Smoking: I'd love to, but my human doesn't think it's "healthy". Pffftttt.

Has Kids: No, but I just LOOOVVVE kittens! Delicious! Er, I mean, adorable!

Age: Again, none of your beeswax. Speaking of which, beeswax is delicious!

Body Type: Pear. I'm large-boned- you wanna make something of it?

Eye Color: You'll never know. I prefer to wear Jackie-O sunglasses.

Alcohol: Hey, you'd drink too if you lived in this dump.

Occupation: Blogger

Income Level: I receive payment in the form of cans of Fancy Feast. Can you believe that?!?

Martial Status: If I were anything other than single, would I be placing this ad?

Living Situation: Intolerable

Languages: Why, English, of course!

Astrological sign: Leo

Political Views: I give up. I mean, Socks got into The White House, and what did he do with his newfound power? Squandered it sleeping the day away and placing special orders with the White House Chef! Not that I would have done any differently, mind you.

Sense of humor: Not available

Friday, August 28, 2009

Madame Zelda Speaks!

Hello, lady. I am Madame Zelda. I am a teller of fortunes, seer of the future, mistress of mysticism. What's that? I look like Great Grandma Formaldehyde, aka your cat, Ariel? Nonsense! Utter foolishness! I have been hired by a person or persons, to remain otherwise unidentified, to tell your future. Are you ready? Here goes:

I am looking into my crystal ball. No, that’s not just a very large marble- ridiculous! It's very cloudy....very…smelly....did you pass gas? Oh, never mind. Maybe that was me. Ah! Now I see you at a store. You are surrounded by cylinders of tin....I see the words "Fancy Feast"....You are buying every single one, in various delicious flavors! Now you are purchasing dozens of rotisserie chickens at the deli! -By the way, make sure you only buy barbecue flavor, unless you want your toes to be mysteriously gnawed off in the middle of the night. Now you are back at home. I see you opening all the cans and serving them on fine china. There are chicken legs flying everywhere! It’s an all-out buffet, just for your cats Ariel and Okie! You do have some intelligence and couth after all! Why, this is marvelous! Wait, wait…now I see Ariel, her adorable little belly all distended and bloated, sprawled out in the middle of a large fluffy bed…she has the ‘chicken burps’…I see you, curled up on the floor at the foot of the bed…Ah! I just love it when the future looks bright.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

The Mind of the Cat: A Quiz

The Mind of the Cat: A Quiz

In continuation of my last post, I certainly hope you learned something about the mind of the cat. There is, of course, much, much more to know, as the cat’s mind is a deep well of knowledge and awesomeness. Today we are going to have a brief quiz to test your teeny human brain and see how much you have retained.

  1. Who is the most important person in your house?
    1. You
    2. Your cat
    3. Cats aren’t people

Correct answer: B. If you answered A or C, may your dreams be haunted by cats with Irritable Bowel Syndrome.

  1. Cats prefer to eat
    1. Seizure-inducing dry food
    2. All the time
    3. High-quality organic tuna
    4. A menagerie of assorted wildlife

Correct answer: If you picked A, slap yourself upside the head. Again! Now, serve your cat a nice big bowl of deep-fried squirrel abdomens.

  1. Why do cats tinkle in inappropriate spots?
    1. I have not provided enough soft/tantalizing/fun places for my cat to tinkle
    2. No spot is inappropriate
    3. Would YOU pee in a 2 x 3 plastic box? ‘Nuff said.
    4. Because they can

Correct answer: All of the above (Duh)

  1. Cats are superior to humans because:
    1. That is the design of the universe
    2. They are cuter, faster, and much more wily
    3. They are not superior

Correct answer: I don’t think this one really needs any clarification, now does it?

Ok, time to score yourself. Four correct answers: Give yourself a cookie. You are somewhat on your way to understanding the awesome being that is a cat. Three correct answers: Did you even read my last post? Two correct answers: Call me later. I’ve got a special present I made just for you. One correct answer: Pathetic! May your cat use your leg as a scratching post.

Monday, August 24, 2009

Mr. Webster Takes A Dirt Nap

After having lived with a human for even the brief period of time that I have, it has become painfully obvious to me that none of you understand the mind of the cat at all. Therefore, I have put together this handy-dandy reference guide of definitions, which should help you immensely. Read it and weep.

Ariel's Quick Reference Guide to Understanding Your Cat

Human = Servant; he/she who opens cans, cleans poo, and moves their big butt over so I can have the choice spot on the bed.

Food = Anything that moves, breathes, or tastes delicious.

Litterbox = Not a specific location…more of a destination; anything that looks and/or feels comfortable; anything that should be destroyed for its own good (i.e. Grandma Smith’s handmade pea green blanket from 1979).

Cat Fancy = Required reading for all humans who are allowed to live with a cat. Attention Humans: take good notes. There will be a quiz later.

Cat beds = Huge waste of money. Your bed is so much more comfortable.

Dry cat food = Proof that humans do not understand cats in the faintest.

Your heart continuing to beat = You’re welcome.

Newspapers, magazines, important mail = Great for shredding and keeping our teeth sharp

Wildlife = Backyard smorgasbord = Delicious!

Saturday, August 22, 2009

Okie is a liar!

I just saw the post from yesterday that Okie, that traitor, put up on MY site. I am shocked, really. The very idea that I could be any sort of addict is preposterous. And beating up neighborhood kittens! Why, the very idea is absurd. I mean, I may have confiscated a lunch bag here and there (hey, so would you for a Chipmunk Pudding Pop), but that's it, I swear. I am nothing if not utterly in control of myself. I am not easily swayed or tempted. I believe that self-control is the epitome of life, and....(sniff sniff)...Why, whatever is that delicious smell? It's smells like...could it be? Could my prayers have been answered so soon? Hold on, I'll be right back......gotta check something out...

Friday, August 21, 2009

Confessions of a 'Nipaholic

(whispering) Hi everybody! It's me, Okie. I'm Ariel's "guest blogger" today, even though she doesn't know it. I'm trying to gain support for staging an intervention- I think Ariel is addicted to catnip! It's awful, really. Sometimes she stays up all day long, inhaling what she can pilfer from mommy's cupboard, or even (gasp!) licking the floor for leftovers. It's downright filthy, I tell you! When she can't score any at home, she has resorted to beating up neighborhood kittens to steal it from their lunch bags on their way to school! Last month, she decided to try to grow her own in between the weeds along the side of the house. A bluejay saw it though, and in retaliation for a recent baby-bluejay-as-craft-project incident, ratted her out to Mr. Whiskers, the local busybody. Mr. Whiskers ate the bluejay and then promptly came over and tinkled all over the window screen, and Ariel got blamed for it. Then Mr. Whiskers confiscated all the 'nip. He said he was taking it home to be destroyed, but I think he was really planning on rolling himself in it. Shameful! Anyways, I guess it's better than Ariel getting it. The 'nip makes her really munchy, and trust me, she eats enough already! Last week she was so high on the stuff, she started chewing on mommy's wooden duck carving, not realizing it was fake! Only after she got a few splinters in her cheek did she realize her mistake. I pulled out her splinters with my eyeteeth and pushed the duck under the sofa so mommy wouldn't see it, but I'm tired of covering for her! I think I will have to sign her up for 'Nipaholics Anonymous.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Pillow Talk

Today, I would like to reflect on pillows. Pillows are one of God's gifts to the earth, and to cats in particular. Would you like a little more insight? Read on.

Pillow, pillows, everywhere
Mark some with pee, mark some with hair
Sleep on them, sit on them, barf on them too
Yes, pillows are quite perfect in place of the loo

Any questions? Didn't think so.

Sunday, August 16, 2009

A Wedding Tail

Hey lady! This is Ariel. I’m so incredibly happy you had a wonderful time at that wedding yesterday. Really. I was thrilled to be left here in 2000 degree+ heat with only three meager bowls of food and water to sustain me. How could you possibly think that could tide me over for an evening? Do you not know me at all?

Anyhoo. Contemplating the fantastic time you must have been having in cool air-conditioned comfort, made me fondly reminisce about my cousin Boomer, perhaps the only member of my family to successfully infiltrate a wedding. I decided to ring him up to see if he could give the rest of us any pointers on his secrets of success.

Ariel: Hello Boomer! Can you hear me?

Boomer: (static crackling in the background) Hello Ariel. I’ll have to make this brief. I’ve been put under house arrest in the basement and I’m not supposed to use the phone. It’s wedding season, after all, and my humans are afraid of a repeat of last year.

Ariel: Tell us, what happened?

Boomer: Well, it all started when my humans decided to get married. Mr. asked me if I wanted to be a “cuddly-wuddly-little-furry-groomsman just like daddy”. How was I to know he was kidding?

Ariel: What did you do?

Boomer: Well, I found a top hat and bowtie, of course. Then I hitchhiked to the reception underneath one of the bridemaids’ dresses. As soon as I got there, I immediately began to make myself useful by helping with the music. Some of the records were really bad, so I just put two large scratches in the shape of an “X” across them. I mean, who wants to do the “Chicken Dance”? Chickens are good for one thing, and it's not dancing.

Ariel: Amen to that. Then what?

Boomer: Well, when the guy came back who apparently owned those horrendous records, he started spitting and sputtering and got all red in the face, and looked like he might explode, so I decided that would be an ideal time for me to go take a refreshing dip in the chocolate fountain. My mistake; there is nothing refreshing about having your whiskers singed off by molten hot chocolate. But that’s ok, I immediately felt better after rinsing off in the adjacent champagne fountain.

Ariel: Wow! That sounds delicious.

Boomer: Well, it was alright. The rest of the food left a little to be desired. I went into the kitchen to do some taste testing, and apparently, all Chicken Kiev is stuffed with parsley? I mean, I did not know that! And believe me, I tried every single one of them, and they were all the same!

Ariel: Parsley? I did not know that either…I think I just threw up a little in my mouth…blech!

Boomer: Anyways, some guy in a big white hat came after me with a broomstick, so I hightailed it out of there! All that indulging had left me with a sudden urge to relieve myself, so I began searching out an appropriate spot to do my business. There was a small table over in the corner that had some boxes on it with colored paper wrapped around them, and bows (which I love to eat, but I was a little full at that moment), and there was this one white box with a small slit in the top that was empty. I don’t know who could have aimed through that little slit, so I took the top off and went to town. I am a very polite and well-mannered cat, of course, so I put the lid back on when I was done. Then I got distracted by some ribbon on the floor. And wouldn’t you know, some ladies came over and put a flat white envelope through the slit in the box. I was a little concerned I had committed a faux pas, so I felt better when they said they were leaving their present in the box. Why, that’s what I had just done! So, you see, it all worked out great!

Ariel: That sounds like a great present. That’s what I always give on birthdays and at Christmas. So then what?

Boomer: Well, here’s where it gets fuzzy. I remember being grabbed by the scruff of my neck- that hurts, you know!- and I woke up here in the basement. It took a LOT of ankle rubs and good aims in the litterbox before anyone spoke to me again. I still don’t understand what the problem was…I thought I was pretty helpful. Oops! Sorry Ariel, gotta go, I hear footsteps…Call me if you want to go to a wedding sometime....Meeoowwrrrr! (dial tone)

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

On the catwalk

Hey lady! I understand that perhaps some people out there think all I like to do is eat and kill things. Well, that's just not true. I have many hobbies and interests besides making flowcharts pairing baby birds with fine white wines. Like what? Well, for one, I like to sleep. I also enjoy a good tussle with a chunk of clumping cat litter. And did I mention that I like to sleep? That way I only have to potentially interact with you a maximum of 4 hours a day. I also enjoy a bit of high fashion. As you can see from the example above, I maintain quite an extensive collection of wigs. Why, just last week I wore this wig for a leisurely stroll about the neighborhood, and no less than three tomcats, a German Shepherd, and one very saucy kitten whistled at me. I think I have a quite promising career ahead of me as a top model. Paris, Milan, Fashion Week, signing autographs all night, my name in lights....I can see it all now! What's that? Models don't eat, and they definitely do not eat chipmunk stew in bordelaise sauce? Hmmm. Modeling is stupid.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Mrs. Fizzy's 7-layer bug dip

Mrs. Fizzy's 7-layer bug dip

If you're always looking for a good recipe like I am, try this delicious 7-layer bug dip. You can make it with ingredients you already have hanging around the house!

1 can seafood pate

35 fireflies, dewinged and lightly breaded

14 large black ants (the plump, juicy kind)

2 dozen horseflies, well mashed

45 earwig heads, toasted

8 fleas

23 black beatles, gently sautéed in a pound of butter

A pawful of ladybugs (for color)

2 tomatoes

Catnip, to taste

Open can of seafood pate (ok, ok, grudgingly ask pesky human to open can of seafood pate); spread generously in large baking dish. Lick at will. Layer fireflies, ants, horseflies, and earwig heads in a circular motion until the pate is covered. Eat the fleas. Toss black beatles into the baking dish evenly. Dot the top with ladybugs, making a smiley face pattern with their corpses. Throw tomatoes in trash can. Cover dish with heaping spoonfuls of catnip, then bake for 1 minute at 350 degrees. Unlock jaw; enjoy.

Saturday, August 8, 2009

Sorry, Jenny

Hey lady! I saw that diet 'food' -and I use that term loosely- you are trying to pawn off on me. I'm not overweight! I just have big fur. Ok, well maybe I have indulged just a tad too much as of late. But nature offers so many tasty delicacies, how can I resist? I tried to cut back, really I did.

I know that I have a penchant for lunch
Morning, noon, and night, I do like to munch
But it seems my collar, it fits no more
I can barely squeeze through the litterbox door

This is a problem I must try to fix
A little less bacon, some more Meow Mix
But it's not as easy as it should be
I have a weakness for pigeon with a nice cup of tea

I did some Pilates, tried to kickbox
Then took a break for some bagels and lox
Next I decided to try Jenny Craig
But they kicked me out when I gnawed on her leg

(Hey, it looked like a giant drumstick. So sue me.)

Thursday, August 6, 2009

Escape from Al-cat-traz

Hey lady! I realize you are a little disillusioned right now. The fact that you caught me scaling down the bathroom window ledge in the middle of the night has probably left you asking yourself a few questions. Such as, "What have I done wrong? Why isn't Ariel happy here? Did I not steal her enough fish from the neighbor's koi pond? Did I not bring her enough sacrificial kittens to sustain her? Is perhaps seventeen hours of internet access a day simply not enough to mitigate the utter boredom she surely must endure in this tin can we call home? Did my destruction of her bug collection in the corner with the vacuum cleaner send her over the edge?" Ah, well, you have a lot of thinking and deep self-examination to do in answer to those questions. I can't really give you any insight, except to say, I think you know what you've done. The question is, what are you going to do about it? My own tv, a new high-tech litterbox, a couple of chipmunk heads on a stick, and an end-of-season pigeon roast would go a long way towards my forgiveness of you.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

You're [invited for] dinner!

Welcome to my humble abode! Come in, come in. Please, make yourself comfortable and have a seat right over here in this large 50 quart, hot tub. Yes, it's a hot tub! I thought perhaps a little R & R before dinner. You can stew over your day at work whilst I prepare the woodchuck au gratin. Please, have a drink. What's that? It tastes funny? It's just a little lemon juice and olive oil marina...uh, margarita. Ole'? While you're in there, could you just tuck these potatoes and carrots around you? Perfect, thanks. Let me know if they start getting mealy, would you? Now, if you could just pop this thermometer in your mouth...What? Oh, I'm just concerned about your health. You look a little peaked. Just wanted to make sure you're not running...a fever. Wonderful! Everything is cooking right along, and dinner will be served shortly. So glad you could make it.

Monday, August 3, 2009

Top 10 Reasons It’s Great To Be Me

Top 10 Reasons It’s Great To Be Me

10. I poop, you pick it up

9. That needlework pillow Aunt Melba gave you as a wedding gift? Toast. And believe me, I’m doing you a favor.

8. It’s called sleeping. 18 hours a day.

7. I never have to eat my vegetables. They might kill me.

6. I don’t have to be nice, because I’m cute.

5. I poop, you pick it up.

4. By the good fortune of my own superior intelligence and craftiness, I have an endless supply of supplemental food sources, including, but not limited to, birds’ nests, woodchuck dens, squirrels’ lairs, and beehives. As if that dog food you call dinner could sustain me (sniff)

3. I will live to be 80 years old (in cat years- is there really any other kind?) and still look like I’m two. What’s your excuse?

2. I can stand on your face while you’re sleeping, and you’re none the wiser.

1. The power that comes with the knowledge that I am the only thing standing between you and death. It’s lucky for you I can’t open cans.

Saturday, August 1, 2009

Jumpin' Jehosacat!

I have decided to be generous, and allow Okie to have this post all to herself. Here is a video made back in the day, when she was still wily and nimble (I have since laid claim to those traits- and don't you forget it). Let's all give her a round of a-paws!

Check me out again today on the LOLSpot!

Can't touch this

Hey lady! I noticed you trying to pet me this morning. Did you notice I bathed immediately afterward? There’s a reason for that. I don’t like to be petted! I am very fluffy and beautiful, and I know that makes me irresistible to humans such as yourself, who have nothing but decidedly unfluffy and boring skin to cover you. But hey, that’s not my fault. Just to give you a little better idea of why I don’t want you touching me, I wrote this little rhythmical literary piece:

Don't touch me
Because I said so
The last person who did
he bled so
At least he isn't dead, though
So that's something.

Don't touch me
Because I said so
I told you that from the get-go
After all this time
you should know
I don't like you.

So don't touch me
How can I be more plain
Pay attention
Or there will be pain
Mmm, your arm is delicious!

Thursday, July 30, 2009

Let's Play 'Word of the Day'

American Heritage Dictionary Definition

i-ro-ny  [ahy-ruh-nee, ahy-er-]

–noun, plural -nies.

1. “Incongruity between what might be expected and what actually occurs.”

The Dictionary of Ariel Definition

1. “Yes, I allowed you to put this ridiculous prop on my head and take a picture. Ironically, however, that doesn't mean I won't scratch your face off in the middle of the night.”

Check me out on the LOLSpot!

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

The Ballad of the Sandwich

All this talk about beaches and picnics has given way to some deep reflective introspection. Specifically, what kind of sandwiches are my favorite? I have spent a whole 5 minutes contemplating the answer to this complex question, and as often is the case, am bestowing on you, the public, a glance into the mind of a fascinating individual (that's me) through the medium of poetry. Enjoy.


My favorite sandwich is Jam & Baby Lamb
I also am quite partial to Blue Jay & Spam
But who can forget Chipmunk & Ham
Do I have to pick just one?

How about a nice Raccoon on Wheat
Top it with a side of crunchy bird's feet
Wash down with a martini, I like mine neat
I'm feeling bloated already

I'd like to try Kitten on Rye
Or a little Mouse Salad; I think it's a tie
It's too bad they all have to die
But I need to feed my face

The End

Monday, July 27, 2009

Life's a Beach

Hey lady. Hope you had a nice time at the beach. Did you encounter any "surprises" along the way? Like maybe something white on your shoulder? What's that? No, I would never dream of hiring a seagull to send a message. How could you think I would do something like that? Shocking! No, I just wanted to let you know that next time, you'd better take me along if you know what's good for you (read: if you don't like Tootsie Rolls in your shoes). I went on Ebay and ordered these stylish yet functional sunglasses. I must insist you find me some catnip-flavored suntan oil and a 500-threadcount beach towel- preferably in the blue color family. Reds make me look washed out. I also will require a large picnic basket filled with a delicate assortment of baby mice ears, smoked Gouda, lamb tails, and a nice chilled Piesporter. Oh, and a PUH- that's Personal Umbrella Holder to you peons. I suppose that can be you, if you insist. Now that we understand each other, get busy! You've got lots of work to do.

Saturday, July 25, 2009

A little kitty ditty

Ok, lady. I can see you're getting ready for a nice little day at the beach for yourself- don't worry about me one bit. I'll be fine here in this stuffy little hovel you call home. Just do me a favor before you abandon ship, and post this little ditty I came up with during one of my naps. And if you know what's good for you, you'll bring me back one of those Drumstick thingys.

There was a young man named Jim
It seems he had three chins
But all's for the better
Get the rye and smoked cheddar
I'll make a sandwich out of his limbs

Friday, July 24, 2009

Fleabag: The Life and Times of a Punk

Today, I would like to introduce to you all my brother, Fleabag. Here we are in a childhood photo. Fleabag was definitely a punk back in the day. Well, here, I’m going to let him tell you all about himself. Don’t go thinking, “Oh he’s so interesting”, now. Remember, this is MY blog, and I’m the star of the show.

Ok, Fleabag, take it away.

Fleabag: I’ve had a rough life. Ariel is only my half sister, you know. We had different fathers. Which makes it kind of tough. One week, you’re living in relative comfort, with food scraps from the table and a nice comfy pillow to sleep on; then every other weekend and holidays, you’re out in the country eating out of garbage cans. Oh, they try to make it up to you by buying you the latest issue of Cat Fancy or a remote control mouse, but it’s just not the same. Anyways, I used to get my kicks by acting out. I was known as the toughest cat in a three block radius! I would have neighborhood kittens crying in their milk. I always kept a couple of the little nippers around to do my bidding; steal catnip from Mrs. Meyers’ garden, de-bone chipmunks, you know, that kind of thing. One time, I even sponsored a neighborhood “Easter egg” hunt. All the kittens had to do was visit all available birds’ nests, retrieve the eggs, and then get out of my face. Simple! I also was the first cat in the ‘hood to get a set of wheels. Ok, so it was a broken roller skate I pilfered from the Johnson’s trash can, but it was still wheels. I accessorized it with a sprinkling of squirrel molars and glitter. Perfect for terrorizing kittens and small rodents! Ah, those were the days. But alas, those days are behind me. Now, I lead a peaceful but staid life as an overweight Domestic Shorthair in western PA. I am a model citizen, only peeing on the odd pillow here and there, or putting a quick (yet pleasurable) end to the life of the occasional trespassing mouse.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Great-Grandma Formaldehyde’s Words of Wisdom for Young Whippersnappers

I’ve been on this earth for a long time, and if there's one thing I know, it's that today’s youth doesn’t know anything about survival in the world of humans. Why, back in my day, those pesky bipeds wouldn’t come near my claws, much less think about removing them, if they knew what was good for them. I scratched off many a face in my day. And neutering! Modern mumbo jumbo superstitious nonsense. Back in my day, we got to keep the body parts we were born with. Oh, we may have given birth 45 times, but it built character! What are today’s youth doing with their “freedom from reproduction”? Squandering it, that’s what! Yes, they have all sorts of time on their paws for eating and sleeping and destroying curtains and making craft projects! It’s blasphemous, I say! In my infinite wisdom, I decided to put together some words of advice for the next feline generation. Listen up, whippersnappers!

  • Modern dental cleanings are for soft (read: wussy) cats. Real cats clean their teeth on a set of squirrel bones and rocks.
  • Hang on to your claws at all costs. Press-on claws or the "Freddy Krueger Halloween Glove Set” don’t cut it. No matter what your “human” tells you.
  • Fake mice and trips to the groomer are for sissies! Back in my day, we would clean ourselves by rolling in a thicket of thorns and sharpen our claws on prehistoric rocks.

Well kids, that’s all I have time for today. Stay tuned, and if I’m feeling nice, I might bestow some more of my immortal wisdom on you.

Monday, July 20, 2009

Interview with a cat

Okie: Hey Ariel, everybody’s talking about the unemployment rate here in Michigan. I thought maybe we should practice our interviewing skills in case we have to look for work.

Ariel: Work? I already have enough work bathing, napping, and putting up with these numbskulls we live with.

O: Ok, ok, I know it’s a long shot. But I thought maybe we should practice answering some questions anyways, just in case.

A: (sigh) Well, I suppose I don’t have anything else to do right now, at least until someone gets here and turns on Soapnet.

O: Ok, first question. What are your strengths?

A: A keen wit, wily intelligence, and ravishing beauty.

O: Uh…yeah. What are your weaknesses?

A: Definitely chipmunk tails, oysters on the half shell, and the Wine of the Month club on QVC.

O: Define cooperation.

A: That’s when you stand on my shoulders and we take down a family of cardinals with no weapons but our own cunning.

O: What problems do you have getting along with others?

A: None, as long as they do my will.

O: Are you willing to take calculated risks when necessary?

A: Absolutely. One time I calculated that a mother bunny stayed away from its nest for 92 minutes every morning starting at 7:32 a.m. If I could consume one baby bunny per 14 minutes, and there were 7 bunnies in the nest, why, I could almost finish the whole nest by the time she got back. And the risk was very minimal!

O: I don't think this is going very well...

Saturday, July 18, 2009

Catnip OD

Hey lady! Yeah, you. While you were out, I found a little something to amuse myself. Normally, I prefer to play a rousing game of Monopoly, but I decided to live it up a little. I certainly hope you don't mind that I decimated your extra large bulk supply of catnip in one sitting. What could go wrong? One can never have enough...feeling sleepy, feeling very sleep....zzzzzzzzzz.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Chipmunk Kabobs; A Reflection

Roses are red, violets are blue
I’m ready for a barbecue, how about you?
Summer’s almost over, so what do you say
I’ve got some baby bluejays I’ve been waiting to slay

I’ll roast them up nice on the charcoal grill
With a splash of lemon and a pinch of dill
Oh, baby birds are my favorite snack
Just sneak up behind one and give it a whack

No barbecue is complete without a side of cardinal stew
Better watch out, or it might include you
Squirrel and bacon and corn on the cob
If I see a chipmunk, I’ll make a kabob

I think some bird’s nest soup would make a fine start
I’ll knock one from that tree with a well-aimed dart
This nest is full of eggs! glad I didn’t use bow and arrows
Goodbye, baby birds; hello, huevos rancheros!

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

"Cats Control Humans"...Duh

As I was doing my daily perusal of the world wide web over the shoulder of this human I allow to live with me, I came across this slightly interesting, highly obvious statement: "A study finds that cats employ a special trick that gets their owners to do their bidding." It's called Pretending That We Like You Until You Open The Can Of Food. Is this really news? Yawn.

Monday, July 13, 2009

Great-Grandma Formaldehyde

Okie: Ariel, I was rooting through that box in the corner looking for something to cough up a furball on, when I came across this picture. Who is it?

Ariel: Allow me to introduce my great grandmother, Formaldehyde.

O: Formaldehyde? What’s a Formaldehyde?

A: Formaldehyde was the only child of Otis and Winky Fluffenheiser of Akron, OH. She ran away at age 2 to perform in a traveling circus. She was a famous cabaret dancer, with admirers from all across the world.

O: Why does this other picture show her sitting on a bale of hay and eating flies?

A: Ok, ok, perhaps I exaggerated a bit. She used to put this handkerchief on her head and tell fortunes. She even predicted my birth and what a gift I would be to the human race.

O: That seems a little far-fetched to me.

A: Well, maybe I’m stretching just a wee bit.

O: You know, she looks a lot like you.

A: Me? That’s utterly and completely ridiculous! Absurd!

O: That is you! Oh my. My oh my. How could you let someone put you in that silly outfit and then take your picture? Ha ha ha ha ha!

A: How humiliating...

Sunday, July 12, 2009

Garçon! I'd like to place my order

Hey you! It’s lunch time. I want a BLT on wheat, minus the L, the T, and the wheat. And bring me a side of bacon while you’re at it.

Saturday, July 11, 2009

An Ode to...Me, Of Course

An Ode to Me

Roses are red, violets are blue
My favorite thing is avoiding you
You might think that I’m cuddly and sweet
But baby bird filets are my favorite treat

I like chipmunks and squirrels and woodchucks and mice
But my best recipes are not very nice
Cream sauce and pesto, marinara too
If you fall asleep, I might try them on you

I think people like you are a necessary vice
Someone’s got to clean up those leftover mice
I cannot help it, I’m just being me
Now bring me some bacon and a nice cup of tea

I’d love to stay and chat for a while
But I’ve got some business to do on your new tile

Friday, July 10, 2009

When good cats go bad

Okie: Should we take him out?
Ariel: Possibly. He has not consented to any of my demands. If you stay where you are and hold him down, I can hit his jugular and over.
O: But who's gonna open cans for us?
A: Hmmm. Good point. I guess this killjoy is good for something. (Menacing whisper) But just remember, Chuckles, your days are numbered.

Thursday, July 9, 2009

Do you know where your slipper is?

Hey you! Yes, you. Now that I have your attention, I am pleased to inform you that I have taken your left fuzzy pink slipper hostage. It will be returned to you in itty bitty shards by way of my litterbox unless you submit to my list of demands:

-Daily happy hour served promptly at 4 o’clock; prefer an aged port and tenderized woodchuck medallions in a light cream sauce. To be served in the drawing room on family heirloom china.

-Breakfast served promptly at 6:10 a.m. No exceptions for holidays, weekends, or the Chinese New Year. They don’t have a Year of the Cat, I tinkle on their holiday.

-Internet access from 10 a.m. until 4 p.m. daily, with full access to Drs. Foster and Smith and Twitter, which had better be some sort of secret ‘in’ to the world of birds…or else.

-Okie would like her own Visa card.

-A playdate with the baby bluejays in the nest outside the bedroom window. Don’t worry, we won’t let them out of our bite- Er, sight.

-A subscription to Cat Fancy magazine. For you. I already know what I fancy.

-The bed. You can have the floor. And that’s being generous.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Kentucky Fried Kittens

Today I am having a picnic lunch. I just happened upon this delicious looking lunch box (pictured above); it has white meat and dark meat, my favorite! I'll just add a side order of chipmunk tails, a red and white checkered cloth, and a nice dry Chablis, and I'll be on my way. What's that? Those are rescue kittens and are not for eating? I'm shocked you would think I would do something like that! That's absolutely (burp) ridiculous!

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Crafty Summer Crafts

If you’re looking for a fun project this summer like I am, try making this mobile. It will provide you with hours of fun!

You will need:
10 baby birds, preferably dead; assorted colors
Clear fishing line
Two flat pieces of wood
10 small bells

Take two pieces of wood and nail them together in a cross-like fashion. If you do not have opposable thumbs, fool unsuspecting human into wielding hammer – tell them you are making a project for Sunday school. Take baby birds and roll them in shellac. Sprinkle liberally with glitter. Cut 2 foot lengths of fishing line, string with bell, and tie firmly around each bird’s neck. Fasten other end to the pieces of wood. Find select spot to hang mobile, roll onto back, and enjoy.

Saturday, July 4, 2009

Bluejays, barbecues, and caterpillar stuffing

Meow! Happy 4th of July everyone! My name is Okie, and I am Ariel’s big sister. Today I will be interviewing Ariel and asking some of those questions we all want answered. Ok, probably nobody actually cares about the answers, but I don’t have anything else to do at the moment, so here goes.

Okie: Tell me about your earliest kittenhood memory.
Ariel: I remember my father, who had climbed a tree and couldn’t get down. Someone had called the fire department to come and get him. My eight brothers and sisters and I were taking bets on how many times he would spray the firemen before they could grab him. Fleabag won.
O: Fleabag?
A: My kid brother. He was a punk.
O: Ok….anyways. What’s your favorite holiday?
A: I’m quite partial to Thanksgiving. Turkey legs…stuffing with caterpillars…baby lambchops with quail medallions. It’s a holiday that’s all about me stuffing my face. Delicately and with style, of course.
O: Where would you like to go on our next vacation?
A: Vacation? I’m thinking Tahiti, complete with a parrot roast and Mai Tais under a shady umbrella on the crystal white sand beach. More likely, that lady and guy will be off somewhere, and I’ll be catching flies in this podunk villa they call ‘home’. Yawn.
O: You seem to have a bit of an attitude problem.
A: So would you if your claws had been removed, reducing you to only two choice weapons- razor sharp teeth and razor sharp wit.
O: Ok, well I’m going to go beg for a bacon strip and watch Dr. Zhivago.
A: I’m gonna start the grill and marinade my baby bluejay kabobs. Happy 4th of July, Audubon.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

My fur-st crush, Simba

When I say my first crush, I am talking about the first crush I have been the object of. And trust me, there have been many.

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Delicious Holiday Recipe

Mrs. Fluffy's 4th of July Surprise

For this delicious patriotic recipe, you will need:

1 red robin
1 bluejay
1 container Cool Whip
8-9 dead flies or other assorted bugs
2 pieces tinsel

Find volunteer robin and bluejay; if volunteers not forthcoming, butterfly net should do the trick. Lay robin flat on lightly buttered waxed paper. Cover generously with Cool Whip. Sprinkle with flies and tinsel, then top with bluejay. Give thanks to our forefathers. Open jaws and enjoy.

Monday, June 29, 2009

My day

7:15 a.m. Check to see if serving tray with rose and Fancy Feast artfully arranged on an heirloom china plate to be served in bed is ready
7:46 a.m. Check again
8:02 a.m. Still checking
8:16 a.m. Reluctantly settle for Fancy Feast in cat dish on floor
8:59 a.m. Take nap
9:30 a.m. Kill fly; eat it
10:47 a.m. Nap
11:13 a.m. Watch pigeon on back deck through binoculars; plan roast pigeon with root vegetables
12:41 p.m. Choke down unappetizing kibble
12:59 Sink to new low; attempt to scale trash can for leftover chicken Kiev
1:30 p.m. Nap
1:55 p.m. Jump on computer keys in futile attempt to access
3:01 p.m. Boss around neighborhood kittens
3:47 p.m. Nap
5:45 p.m. "Owners" home from work. Yawn.
6:14 p.m. Sort through mail; confiscate Friskies coupons
7:27 p.m. Nap
9:01 p.m. Look pitiful and mewl until baby lambchops and arugula appear on silver tray; wake with a start and realize only a tantalizing dream
10:27 p.m. Nap
11:00 p.m.- 6:00 a.m. Run around the house at top speed, pausing only to climb curtains, pick fight with other cat, and search out noisy toys under the sofa

Saturday, June 27, 2009

Ho hum, another Saturday night...

Take a look at my I LOOK amused? This is Saturday night. What are we doing at home? I am not interested in watching another mundane episode of What Not to Wear. I know what not to wear, and I also know what to a club. Which is where we should be. Now.

Allow me to give you the pleasure of introducing myself...

I thought I'd start with a photo of me in my adolescence so you can see how adorable I was. Ah, youth. How naive I was back then. I thought that by bestowing the gift of my presence upon my current, totally lackluster "owners"- sometimes referred to as Can Opener #1 and Can Opener #2 - opposable thumbs being their main redeeming quality - that I was making a wise decision. They spent so much money on me, I thought I had it made. I envisioned myself lying in front of a large stone fireplace, on a fluffy pillow, of course, at our winter lodge; our summer home would be a small mansion in the Hamptons, which I would reach by flying first class to a waiting air-conditioned limosine. Imagine my disappointment in discovering the absolute ordinariness of C.O. #1 & 2. They work for a living, for Pete's sake! NOT what I signed up for. But, given my utter lack of opposable thumbs, I can't reach the phone to dial for help. So, here I sit, on a very ordinary (probably Wal-Mart) pillow, and wait to share with you, the world, the fascinating details of my daily life. Check back often- you won't want to miss a word- er, meow.