March 3, 1998

I brought a couple mice to the Husband and Wife this week. The little guys are getting active again; it's a body-clock thing, I think. It sure isn't because of the weather. Although there wasn't any snow this winter; that may have something to do with it.

They put out the green boxes again. What a strange ritual. There must be some purpose for it.

March 11, 1998

It rained today. I hate rain. I end up wet if I go out.

March 17, 1998

St. Patrick's Day.

Why don't they have a St. Francis Day? He apparently was alone in his recognition of animals' places in the world.

Take a walk in a deep woods, where animals live every day. Here's where you find God; far away from human works.

The ability to reason is supposedly what separates humans from the animals. But the second most intelligent creatures are chimpanzees, and they are known to wage war on neighboring tribes of chimps in pre-emptive strikes. They reason that wiping out their adversaries in advance will keep them from attacking their territories.

To put it another way, reason is only an extension of the survival instinct. Where other animals run away, posture or attack to survive, humans use intellect to survive. They are only animals relying on their survival instincts. This gives them much closer ties to the animals that they evolved from. But a human's religion applies only to their own species, of the thousands of forms of life that God created.

Think about it.

March 22, 1998

It was a nice day today, weatherwise. I was patrolling the perimeter and suddenly I spotted a squirrel. I'd seen him before. He's quick. I froze. And I knew I was too far away, but I saw the Wife up on the deck, watching me. What to do. If I did nothing, the Wife would think I was a slacker; getting old orsomething. But if I went after him, I knew I didn't have any chance of catching him. Yet he seemed to be ignoring me. Either he didn't notice me or he was arrogantly defying me.

As some wise human once said (I think it was George Clooney), the only failure is not trying.

Like a shot, I bore down on the squirrel. The element of surprise was mine. But he still managed to dart out of the way. He was up the fencepost, I in pursuit. He darted across the top rail, more sure footed than I, but I threw caution to the winds and pounced. The squirrel changed direction and sped directly beneath me. I could hear the Wife cheering me on, calling my name louder and louder. I landed off-balance and had to jump to the ground. The squirrel leapt to a nearby tree and was up and gone in a shot.

I remained on the ground, aloof. I knew this mission was not to be, and I pretended not to care. I sauntered back to the house, the epitome of non-chalance. I am, after all, a cat.

March 26, 1998

It was early evening; I'd just snatched a snoozing mouse; it was too easy. Nevertheless, it was something for the Husband and Wife.

The Husband had just gotten home and was in the kitchen when I came up the stairs with my mouse mouthful. The Husband, never one to miss the details, cheerfully greeted me by name, and invited me to put the mouse down. I did so.

Beneath the kitchen table was a small cardboard box, lying on its side. The mouse scurried right into it and waited. The Husband picked it up and carried it outside. I wonder what he does with these things?

No matter. I spied my kibble and forgot all about it.

April 6, 1998

It's still not all that spring-like, but the spring wildlife is beginning to appear gradually in ever-increasing numbers.

Early this morning I happened on a rabbit, grazing on the early sprouts of greenery along the edge of the woods. I brought him home to the Husband and Wife, who were still sleeping, despite the fact that the sun had been up for over an hour. So I put the rabbit down by my food dish, and he just sat there. He finally ran into the corner behind the ceramic cat, and when I went over to check on him, he began that noisy, irritating rabbit chirp. I hate that.

At least the Husband was awake by then. He came in to see what was up, and I sat proudly by as he picked up the rabbit and placed it in the box from under the kitchen table. He took it outside, and I went over and picked at the remains of last night's dinner. I knew I would be fed something new as soon as the Husband got back. It always works that way.

Humans are so predictable.

April 10, 1998

The Wife listens to Garth Brooks on occasion, and some of the other country pop singers. The Husband complains that "today's" country music isn't country music at all; it's just highly-polished bad rock 'n' roll.

I'm inclined to agree with the Husband. Country music today is a particular type of pop country that is seriously lacking one important item; a banjo. Country bands all used to have a banjo (Flatt & Scruggs, The Stonemans, Roger Sprung, et. al.) and they had fun with the music.

Country music has become corporate-managed, technologically-enhanced formulaic repetition. Every time rock gets like that, there is a revival of the basics that is rock, and garage bands move to the fore. But country is lacking that revival. It's mired in the same old junk. And it's overdue.

So get out your banjoes, all you pickers and grinners, and get out there and breathe real life into country music. Form a country garage band (barn band?). Have fun. It's your civic duty to music history. Earl Scruggs will be proud.

You heard it here.

April 19, 1998

Did you hear about the boarding house that blew up? Roomers are still
flying.

 I crack myself up.

April 22, 1998

Spring has arrived. I brought home my first sparrow of the season this week. Birds are a challenge; they only get caught if they're not paying attention. This guy was napping on a low branch, and because sparrows are small, it was relatively easy to pick him off.

Birds never want to hang around the kitchen when I let them go. Immediately they flutter their way to a different room -- usually the living room. This one headed straight for the dining room; where he went from there I don't know. There's no interest in catching them twice.

I celebrated with a few mouthfuls of kibble and went and took a nap.

Today, I brought home a rabbit. I think it's spring fever orsomething. The hunting urge grows stronger. Rabbits aren't really much of a challenge, but they're better than mice.

I wonder where that sparrow got to?

April 25, 1998

The Husband's been gone for two days; the Wife longer than that. It gets kinda quiet around here at night. I still sleep on their bed, but they're not around. It's strange; they don't do this very often, but they always come back. Not that it matters; some very nice woman has been here every day, and she feeds me, so it's not like it's a problem oranything. It's just a new routine, so I gotta pay attention to everything that's going on. I'd rather have the old routine.

The nice woman sometimes brings kids with her. I miss kids. I dunno why, I just vaguely remember them from somewhere in my past. There are no kids now, and things are quiet. And now that the Husband and Wife are gone, it's really quiet. I don't like it that much, but the nice woman feeds me and I can still roam the woods during the day.

But then, what more does a cat need?

May 5, 1998

The Wife was excited all day about the twins' birthday. The twins are apparently a human litter, and birthdays are a celebration of the aging process. Why humans would celebrate that is beyond me, as is much of what they do.

But to join the celebratory mood, I brought home a rabbit. The wife was thrilled; she called the Husband in to see it. Apparently it was a big hit. It was just a rabbit. The Husband put it in that box he keeps under the kitchen table (there must be fifty rabbits in that box by now) and then went outside with it.

The conversation returned to the twins. Apparently the Husband and Wife are not going to be home this evening; they're going to wherever these twins are. I've never seen these twins; I wonder what they look like? I'm sure I'll find out soon enough.

They call them by silly baby names, so I always know when they're talking about the twins, but I can't figure out who Cinco D. Mayo is.

May 12, 1998

I felt like celebrating today. I don't know why; it just seemed like celebrating was in the air. The Husband and Wife celebrated the twins last week, and they celebrated mothers last Sunday. And they're celebrating something else this weekend (San Antonio?), but I haven't figured out what it is yet.

I just felt like celebrating something. So I went out to the woods, but there weren't any of my little friends to be found. It seems when you need someone to be there, they should be there, y'know. I came home and curled up in the Husband's lap. He doesn't always like it when I do that, but tonight he petted me and talked to me.

I guess that's a celebration of sorts.

May 18, 1998

The Husband and Wife haven't been home for the past two nights. They did the same thing not too long ago. But that nice woman came around again. Every day she would feed me and talk to me and pet me, and she would sometimes bring kids with her. It was a lot of fun.

But then it gets quiet at night when no one is here, and I don't like that. But I wait on the bed, just in case they should show up late at night; I want to be there to greet them.

Even the hunting urge is diminished. What's the point of bringing home a prize if there's no one here to appreciate it.

I hope they don't do this too often.

May 25, 1998

The Husband and Wife had been home for three days, when I realized that I hadn't showed my apprerciation for their return. So I went out and found a dove. They are a particular prize; they have large bodies, but I have a large mouth. So I entered proudly. But no one was around. I placed the bird on the floor and went seeking a human.

I found the Husband coming in from the garage and gave him a meow. He always pays attention when I meow. He came up to the living room and there was the dove, sitting in the middle of the living room floor. He went over to it and stooped down. It didn't try to escape. He stroked its head once, then attempted to pick it up; it's talons were firmly hooked into the carpet. He had to pull them free, one at a time. The bird was apparently quite confused by the surroundings. He carried the bird out on the deck and placed it on the patio table.

As soon as he was back in the house, a second dove appeared and landed on the table and sat down right next to the first dove. They didn't move for several minutes, then they both took off for the woods.

I don't understand people or doves, but I don't think they're all that different.

May 30, 1998

I am a God

I'm awed by many
I sit at their throne
I protect their fields
I work alone

I am the Devil

I suck their breath
I know their lies
They're scared to death
It's in my eyes

I am Human

I eat from their plates
I sleep in their bed
I join in their fun
I'm one step ahead

I am a Cat

And that's that.

June 4, 1998

They're celebrating again. The aging process. Where's the joy in that? The Husband this time. And instead of having his food brought to him, the Wife is taking him to where the food is. I guess I just don't understand the celebration concept.

But that doesn't mean I don't try. I brought home a mouse to celebrate. They were excited. They brought out the little green boxes.

Then they went out to where the food was. I took a nap.

June 15, 1998

I did good this weekend. I managed to find a chipmunk's napping spot and grabbed him before he caught on to what was happening. But they're frisky little creatures. I released him in the kitchen and he made straight for the living room window, which is where the Husband found him, behind a plant. He managed to prod him into one of those green boxes and I lost interest.

Several hours later I returned to the spot where I found the chipmunk, and there he was again. I was taken aback. I also grabbed him again and returned to the house just as the Husband and Wife were going out (when they getted dressed up it means they'll be home late, so I got the chipmunk just in time). The Husband postponed their departure to check him out. He even brought out the green box to celebrate.

The next day I was scouting the local territory, and in the same spot I found that chipmunk twice, I found him again. Well, I couldn't let this pass; I brought him home again. I can always tell when the Husband wants to celebrate one of my captures; he brings out those little green boxes, and this time was no exception.

So I'm on a roll; today I brought home a mouse. And they were both waiting for me; the Husband decided to play right away; he chased the little guy into the bathroom with that box he keeps the rabbits in.

I'll bet the Husband and Wife are really proud of me now.

June 20, 1998

Well, things are hoppin' around this place. The Husband and Wife have got their website up and running, and it's dedicated to me! Such an honor; I hope I don't screw up.

And it was another week of celebration; the website, a company picnic and fathers. No celebration of the aging process though.

I worked my furry butt off last week. I celebrated by taking a nap.

June 22, 1998

If tough keeping up this schedule, but I'm one determined pussycat. After three chipmunks and a mouse last week, I added a rabbit and another chipmunk.

The rabbit was fortuitous; I snagged him easily and both the Husband and Wife were in the kitchen when I returned. I placed him at the Husband's feet. He couldn't have been happier. He picked the rabbit up, petted it, talked to it, carried it outside. The Wife petted me appreciatively.

So I couldn't stop there. I went out and got a chipmunk.

Chipmunks sure are hyper. This one wouldn't stay put; he was all over the house . The Husband took off work today to get some computer work done, but he ended up playing hide and seek with the chipmunk all day. I like to see him having fun.

I think around dark that evening the chipmunk found the sliding glass door in the dining room, and the Husband cautiously opened it The little guy just ran off. And the Husband didn't even go after him. I guess after playing with him all day he had had enough.

Hey, they feed me; I have to do something in return.

June 30, 1998

The Husband hooked up the third phone line last week, so now the Husband and Wife can be online simultaneously and still receive phone calls. And they are. The tv has gone dormant; the sun goes down and the living room is dark. The Husband and Wife are in separate rooms, using separate dial-up accounts. They communicate by e-mail. She stays on late to chat; he gets up early to e-mail. They rarely see each other, except to pass in the hall going to and from the bathroom. The perfect marriage.

And I get the living room couch entirely to myself, all evening.

July 19, 1998

Okay, call me a slacker. But cats can't sweat to cool off. We pant and drool. It's disgusting. So I'm actually performing a valuable service by remaining indoors where it's cool.

But the Husband and Wife have been giving me pretty crappy food lately. Captain's table? What is that? Are they trying to tell me something? They keep going out in that swelter every day, like they always do. They expect me to do that too?

Okay, today I made an effort. I got out rather early (when it wasn't blistering hot) and managed to nab a chipmunk and bring him home. He let out a few chipmunk chirps when I dropped him, which alerted the Husband and Wife, and they started playing find the chipmunk. They love that game; they come running at the first chirp.

Okay, my job is done; they've gotten out the little green boxes again, so they're having fun. It's back to the couch for the rest of the day.

July 24, 1998

I barely got fed tonight. The Wife never showed up, and the Husband dashed in, dumped food in my dish, then dashed out. These people are insane. But at least they're feeding me some decent chow again.

It's because I brought them that chipmunk last week. I guess I have to keep them happy to get decent grub around here. And the food's been pretty good lately, so I must be doin' okay.

I don't think it was as hot as it has been lately. I was out scouting out the creek for a few hours today and barely broke a pant. Not much doin' down there though. All the critters are feeling the heat. So I antagonized the neighbor's dogs a bit and came back to the air conditioning.

It was getting late and still no sign of the Husband or Wife, so I went out on the front steps to wait. It was definitely cooling off. I just stretched out on the cool cement and waited for them to show up. And they did. I knew they would.

Life is good.

July 29, 1998

It cooled off a bit today. So I caught a rabbit. They're a bit of a challenge. They can be quick. But once you nab one, they offer no resistance. And they don't offer much of a challenge for the Husband and Wife. They don't do anything. Dumb rabbits.

A raccoon came down to the creek today. He looked at me briefly, took a drink and left. I'm curious about him, but not that curious. If they don't fit in my mouth, I'm not interested.

Mice are so much simpler; I'm gonna have to consider a mouse for next time. But that's then and this is now. And now is naptime.

Until next time.

 August 3, 1998

An all-white cat has appeared in the neighborhood; never saw it before. I think it's a she, but since I've been fixed, I don't really care. I was curled up on the front step Saturday night, when she came snooping around. I jumped down to check her out and surprised her. She let out a really mean whining noise; it was obvious she didn't want to get to know me, but that didn't stop me; I went right over to her. She began hissing.

At this point the Wife came outside. She was looking for me; she kept calling my name. But I was more interested in the white cat, so I figured I'd get back to her later. The white cat kept quiet while the Wife was out, so I figured she was taking a break. I took one too.

When the Wife went back inside, the white cat began her howling again. What a whiner. I approached slowly, and more hissing and spitting ensued. You'd think she'd never seen a good-looking tom cat before.

Then the Wife came out again, calling for me. This was starting to get annoying. The white cat kept quiet again, so I sat down also. Eventually the Wife gave up and went back inside. I tried once again to introduce myself to this new feline, but the howling and spitting increased.

Finally the husband came out, found us, and picked me up. The white cat just sat there like she hadn't done anything. The Husband carried me back inside. Farewell, white cat; we shall meet again.

 August 11, 1998

Something a little different this week; I thought you might like to see my source of inspiration. Here it is:

The edge of the woods, as seen from the second-floor deck. The main portion of the woods is to the left, and a creek bed runs just beyond the first row of trees. My private entrance in just below the deck.

Must now go explore.

August 17, 1998

Finally.

The Husband and Wife caught a mouse I brought in over a week ago. Sometimes they just don't pay attention. And what is there to a cat's life if not attention. I was beginning to feel slighted.

Both of them seem preoccupied lately. The Husband disappears into the back bedroom as soon as he gets home (and right after he feeds me), and doesn't come out for hours. The Wife comes home late, makes herself something to eat, then goes to bed. This is not what I call entertainment. Hey, you guys have a cat that craves attention over here! Do I hafta go get more mice? You didn't give a crud about the last one I brought home. Wake up!

If they're going to take this long to get around to noticing my accomplishments, I'd better get out there and find something new or it could be weeks before I'm acknowledged.

Let's see; if I can find a critter today, they should notice it by next Tuesday. Geez.

C'mon guys, I'm a cat; gimme attention.

 August 21, 1998

Okay, there's another mouse loose in the house. Do you think anyone noticed? Of course not.

Both Husband and Wife are so preoccupied with what they're doing that they didn't even notice when I brought a mouse directly to them; they never looked up.

So screw 'em. I took the little guy back to the kitchen and he went his own way. They'll find him eventually.

Why do I bother, y'know?

 August 28, 1998

Cool.

Today I got fan mail. From a couple of cool cats named Smokey and Bandit. They sent me their picture. I dunno which is which, but they probably do. Nobody cared enough to send me their pictures before (sniff).

I needed that, since the Husband and Wife seem to be too busy for me lately.

So here they are. Coupla cuties huh?

Thanks, Smokey and Bandit.

Any other cool cats out there with digitized self-portraits?

September 12, 1998

I felt reenergized today. I went out and got a mouse. A frisky mouse. But when I put him down in the kitchen he didn't move. He just laid there with his feet up. I thought I'd been pretty gentle. But he didn't move. I went and got the Husband (he'll follow me anywhere if I meow just right), and he stooped over it and touched it and pronounced it dead. "But that's not like me," I meowed. He just shook his head and shooed me out of the kitchen. He got the box from under the kitchen table, and a piece of cardboard to scoop the mouse into the box. As he stooped over the mouse again, it took off like a shot. The little bugger was playing dead. I knew I'd been gentle!

The mouse scooted down the steps and hid under the gumball machine by the front door. The Husband followed quickly, box and cardboard still in hand. He opened the front door and propped open the storm door. Then blocking the obvious escape route with the box, he moved the gumball machine and herded the mouse out the front door with the cardboard.

The mouse had run to the driveway side of the steps and panicked when it realized how far a drop it was to the driveway. The Husband had to go outside and hold the cardboard out for the mouse to climb on, which he did, then carried him to the garden. Mice sure are dumb.

But the husband had fun, so my task was completed. Nap time.

September 19, 1998

I got a mouse today. I dunno what it is about discovering these furry little blobs. I think it's the way they scurry around. Or the way they automatically stop when you put a paw on them. No arguments; they play along with the game.

So I brought this one home this morning. But this morning was a Saturday, when the Husband and Wife sleep late. So I had to bring it into the bedroom to get their attention. I succeeded.

The Husband chased it into a pile of bags and summer clothes waiting to be put away for the season and lost it. So it was time to get the green boxes. I know I've done good when they get the green boxes. I normally go my own way by this point, but the sun had been up for hours and I hadn't been fed yet. So I waited patiently for the Husband to finish placing the green boxes around the room.

I then began my "feed me" song (repetitious meowing), and the Husband replied with people sounds that I was hitherto unfamiliar with. He nevertheless fed me, so all is well. Afterwards I curled up next to him while he read the part of the Sunday paper that arrives on Saturday. I purred, he petted.

All is well.

September 24, 1998

It's still pretty hot 'n' humid around these parts, even though it's officially autumn now. But the nights are noticeably cooler. So I went out and got a mouse in the early evening coolness. The Husband saw me carry it into the kitchen, but by the time he got from the living room to the kitchen, the li'l beast had scurried to parts unknown. So the Husband set out the little green traps.

I win another round. When they put out the green boxes, I win. If they catch the little guy without the need for the traps, they win. I'm way ahead.

Speaking of "they," the Wife has been noticeably absent this week. This was my big opportunity; I slept on the pillow next to him all week, so when he woke up, the first thing he would see would be me. This guaranteed that I would be catered to almost immediately. No wonder the Wife likes that spot.

And I spent lotsa time in his lap, being petted and generally showered with attention. He was home a lot, and I just kinda followed him around.

But the wife will return like she always does, and things will get back to normal, and I'll spend my days out in the woods, seeking new critters for their amusement.

The Husband just checked the green box; they haven't found the little guy yet. I should get extra points for this one.

September 30, 1998

Okay, so it's the end of the month. I don't use calendars, remember.

I can tell the seasons are changing; it's in the air. Instinct tells me things are gonna cool off pretty soon. The critters know that too. They're storing stuff away. Which means they're active. Which means they're easier to spot. Which means I'm going to keep the Husband and Wife a bit busy for the next coupla weeks.

It's a nice night out tonight; the sun is just beginning to set, I've been fed. It's time for a little adventure. See you later.

November 13, 1998

Happy Friday the 13th, triskadekaphobes. You know who you are. And it serves you right, fearing things like normal junctures of day and date.

The calendar is an imperfect contrivance of the human mind. It has to be tweaked and adjusted periodically to more accurately fit the events it describes. Even the tweaking is contrived, and that has to be adjusted periodically also.

You gotta love the complexity of the human mind; it can take the simplest concept and make it so confusing that no one understands it, so they shrug their shoulders and ignore it. Y2K, e.g. The human race stepped into it on that one.

Only the human race has lawyers. Think about it.

More people came in tearing up the house this week. And the Husband and Wife just walked around gaping at the goings-on. This time they're spreading stuff on the walls. And once again, I'm not allowed near them; I get tossed outside. Have they something to hide?

The Wife couldn't take it any more and left. She's been gone a coupla days. Which is okay. I get her half of the bed. Cool.

After the people left today, the Husband started putting the furniture and stuff back where it belonged. What was he waiting for? Maybe the Wife won't come back 'til he does.

So things are kinda back to normal now. I think. Something's different. Like I care.

November 21, 1998

I hate change.

Gimme a good, stable, quiet routine that I can sleep through or not, as I see fit. And that's what I had, up until a coupla weeks ago. Then people I've never seen before came into my territory, shoved all the furniture out on the deck, and ripped up all the carpet and threw it outside. They put other carpet in its place, but it wasn't the same. The Husband and Wife were powerless to stop them; they ran and hid.

Not long after that, it happened again. This time strangers covered the walls with a pungent-smelling liquid, while the Husband and Wife hid. They came back two days later and did it again.

But nobody was injured, and no real harm seemed to be done. But today the Husband and Wife got into the disruption act. They went out for a couple hours and came back with stacks of cushions and began ripping the old cushions off the furniture and throwing the new ones in their place.

The whole place took on a new hue. Darker. And the Husband and Wife stood around for hours going "Hmm" a lot.

What next? I keep having visions of them dragging a tree into the house. Where did that come from?

I hate change.

November 26, 1998

Now here's a non-feline celebration I can sink my teeth into. Heh

Humans have this need to celebrate things, because they made their lives so complicated as to be overwhelming, so they find reasons to justify the complex mess they've made of daily existence.

This one is Thanksgiving. All year they spend their lives cursing the darkness; this is the one day in a year when they light a candle. Not a bad average for humanity.

The Husband and Wife are never home for this one; they are either at the home of one's in-laws or the other's. But when they return, they bring large bags of food with them, and I always get a tasty portion of people food every day for a week.

That's where they are now, gathering tasty morsels to keep me happy for the next week. I'm home guarding the house (i.e. catnapping). I wonder what they're going to expect in return for all this food they're bringing home? Something out of the ordinary I suspect. It's been a while since I've brought home any critters. It's getting colder and all the creatures have burrowed in for the winter.

I don't think the Husband and Wife will mind if my captures fall off a bit in the colder months. Supply and demand, y'know. Or something like that.

Happy Thanksgiving. I'm thankful for being a cat.

December 6, 1998

It's happening again.

First it was guys ripping up the carpet. Then guys slapping liquid on the walls. Then the Husband and Wife began throwing out my comfy furniture cushions and putting new stiff ones in their place. Now they've dragged a tree into the house. I gotta admit it's kinda interesting. And I have vague images of this happening before.

But there it is, just sitting there. Humans are weird. But I sniffed it out. It has to do with another celebration. They celebrate a lot of things, which is okay, I guess, as long as they don't disrupt my territory.

I spoke too soon. The Wife has dragged a large number of cardboard boxes into the living room and is removing their contents one item at a time, dusting them off and placing them gently on my napping space on the couch. I tried to investigate them, but I kept getting shooed away. I finally gave up and retired to the back bedroom.

I'm sure they'll get tired of all this soon and give up.

December 12, 1998

I'm getting used to the idea that things are no longer normal around here. The living room is so full of clutter right now that it's just a pain trying to walk around on the furniture. So I stay put. No matter what. See picture (those boxes are empty, btw).

Like today, the Wife was spending many hours hanging clutter on that tree they dragged in here last week. She has all this junk all over the living room, and she's trying to get rid of it by hiding it in the tree. Like no one will notice. It's obvious. And no one's going to question the presence of a tree in a human's living space?

I kinda like it, actually. But I don't know if I'm supposed to. I sleep under it sometimes, but I keep expecting them to chase me away from it. But they never do. Maybe they did just bring it in for me. I dunno why though.

They're celebrating something again; I know that's what it is. Why can't they just appreciate whatever they celebrate all year long, rather than setting aside time. If it's important enough to celebrate on a yearly basis, why is it not important enough that it's ignored the rest of the year? Humans just don't know how to appreciate the good stuff all around them. Or even how to recognize it.

Merry whatever.

December 20, 1998

I love this time of year. Dunno why; everyone seems to get crazy and enjoy themselves. They do silly things like drag trees in the house and hang lights on it. Then they hang lights on the shubbery that they can't bring in the house. They they go visit each other and talk about how nice everything is.

People I vaguely remember show up briefly, and they're all in happy moods.

For a coupla weeks I was left to myself here most of the time; the Husband and Wife were always out doing something. But not always together. And now the Wife is home almost all the time, and friends of hers show up at my feeding time, while the Husband (who usually feeds me), doesn't show up for hours.

The routines are all screwed up, yet everyone seems to be happy. Hey, I'm not complaining. When they're happy, I get attention. So everything is fine, I guess.

Still I hope somebody establishes a routine somewhere. I am a cat; I thrive on routine.

December 25, 1998

It's Christmas Day. A big deal among Christians of the world. It's the one day of the year when they attempt to act the way Christians are supposed to act. Unless two of them are vying for the same parking space on Christmas eve.

I suppose it's good for humans to take note of their shortcomings and attempt to make adjustments. But they get so far out of adjustment sometimes it's embarrassing. Still, I give 'em credit for trying.

The Husband and Wife give me stupid toys at this time of year. I try 'em out for a few minutes, then ignore them totally.

What is it that makes people happy this time of year? That's not a redundant question; think about it.

Whatever you come up with is probably wrong.

Merry Christmas.

December 31, 1998

Don't bug me about calendars; I've already told you how I feel about calendars. Suffice it to say that today is Thursday and tomorrow is Friday. Just like this time every week.

And it's really cold. Temperatures below twenty degrees. Doesn't offer me any incentive to venture out. Anyway, I have the tree in the living room if I want outdoorsy nonsense.

Last week produced an influx of visitors who would come in the house, walk around the tree with their coats on and say nice things about it. Then they'd take off their coats and pretend like it wasn't there. We're talkin' about a tree that's as wide as it is tall! In the living room! People are strange critters.

And every time new people would show up, the Husband and/or Wife would find those silly toys they bought for me and roll them around in front of me. I thought I'd manage to hide them. They should get tired of them pretty soon. I know I did.

So tomorrow is hang up the new calendar day. If that's what lights your wick, knock yerself out. I'll be over there, on the couch.