Bonjour, Human Biped Food Slaves. Let Lulu tell you the state of things around here. It's Sunday, which means I write the blog, so I can say anything I want, and thank the Cats In Heaven for that. Because things are out of control around here, and I have had. Enough.
SO. We've covered that my human biped food slave has completely and totally lost it since my brother's demise, yes? Yes, we've covered the incessant cleaning, the psychosis regarding my health (which was never a problem in the first place, by the way,) and the overabundance of affection she has shown to me, yes? Oh, I didn't mention that part? It's GRAND. I will be napping away, without a care in the world, and suddenly she is hugging and kissing me like I'm some sort of stuffed animal or human toddler or something of that nature. It's atrocious, the lack of dignity the woman has. Anyway, I returned the favor, because I am a GIVER by allowing her to cut my fingernails. I left her with three big gashes in her leg when she attempted to clip my toenails, I mean, I'm not a saint, but yes, I did allow her to give me a manicure. Mostly because my nails were so long and sharp that I kept sticking to things like the rug and the furniture, and the food slave kept calling me "Velcro Cat" and that's just entirely too silly for someone of my caliber. I give BACK, see? And the slices on her leg are fine, it's not like she needed stitches, I mean, lordy, you'd think she needed a blood transfusion from the commotion around here after that. But it is hardly new news that my human biped food slave is insane, so let's please move on.
Some people were wondering if the beeping problem we had for three days bothered me, and I am here to say quite bluntly: No. I didn't care. I seldom care about anything that doesn't directly affect my eating and sleeping schedule and I have a strong will, unlike the crazy woman, so no, I could not have cared less about the stupid beeping. It was enjoyable to see the woman lose her tiny little mind about it, though, let me tell you. I am almost sorry the noise is gone, it made the biped so infuriated. Ha. I laugh, do you see? Ha. Ha.
Now. On to the grave matter of…I can barely bring myself to type it…Kittens. No, that's not a typo, what, you think a grown cat of my caliber can't spell? Idiot food slaves. Anyway, yes. Kittens. Plural. As in two. That's what the woman has her big stupid heart set on. Now. For one? We don't need kittens, NO ONE needs kittens, all they do is run and make noise and cause the idiot biped to fawn over them like they were human children. Plus, they would irritate me by their mere presence. And who put it in the biped's brainpan that she should get two??? I KNOW it was YOU people, and here I thought we were acquaintances, if not friends. Shows what I get for taking my (gorgeous) eyes off of you humans for one second. Look what happens!
She's looking at pictures of baby kittens and making high pitched noises and HUGGING ME saying that "Oh, Lulabelles, we're gonna adopt some BABIES isn't that WONDERFUL" and I cannot emphasize the human word "NO" enough. What a bloody nightmare. And I'm completely and totally blaming you biped food slaves for this. She was content with (heaven help me) ONE kitten until YOU ALL said that they'd be happier in pairs. You ALSO said they would then torment each other and leave me the hell alone, but I deeply doubt that will be the case. This is all on your heads, humans. I hope you're satisfied with yourselves.
Oh gods, the yappy dogs are outside making a commotion. I must go now and glare hatefully out the window at them. Au revoir, human biped food slaves. I DO hope you're happy.
Two kittens. I've never heard of a more inane idea in all my years.
Lulu Von Cat