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?
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.
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.
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. 
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 pot...er, 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.
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.
Posts
All Comments
