Every time he gets lazy, runs out of ideas or thinks a cute picture of me will pump up his blog hits I get coerced into writing this damn thing. I don't mind so much when he threatens me. I know my mom would never let him make me go to bed without supper or take away my nip but this morning Chuck threatened to remove the front window perch and I know how much Sparky loves it.
I'm not doing this for me, or him. I'm doing this for Sparky.
I know it may sound like I'm complaining, god knows, he does enough of it, but I'm not. I don't mind helping him out, as a matter of fact, sometimes it's kind of fun but you know what he did yesterday? Well, I'll tell you. He LIKED Mittens on his Facebook page.....Mittens. He's a stupid cat that wears a silly little black robe when he watches Judge Judy and whines about his "fancy water dish" when he sends texts to his momma. I write a fricking blog and Mittens just sends texts. But do you see me all over the Internet, Twitter and Tumblir? No you don't. I don't even know what Tumblir is.
And this is the moniker he gave me....Steve the Cat.
Steve the freaking Cat.
I mean how common, plain and pedestrian is that?
There is no imagination, no magic and certainly no panache.
It's not like I can be Steve the Dog or Steve the Rabbit. Isn't it obvious I am Steve the Cat? And the the isn't even capitalized and I think it should be. Steve The Cat connotates a much more important individual. Actually, it should be Steve THE Cat.
I mean, check this out.
Maru jumps in boxes, Grumpy Cat is grumpy and Pudge wears hats. Nala always looks surprised, Hamilton the Hipster Cat is cool, Snoopy Cat wears socks, Henri knows the truths of life, Smoosh sits and watches TV (with Lil Bub) and Sam has eyebrows.
And they all have hundreds of thousands of followers.
What do I do?
I eat, I sleep, I poop in a box.
And every so often...I write a blog!!!!
Hey, you guys want to know what we get to eat around here?
It comes in a small shiny bag and has a picture of a big Tiger looking cat on it. It's Blue Wilderness. I heard him grouse about the cost once or twice. I like it. It tastes like salmon (I once snatched a piece off his plate). We get it day, after day, after day. Always the same thing, so it should taste good and be nutritious. Don't you agree?
For a while mom fed us canned food in the morning. It was Taste of the Wild but she stopped giving that to us a few months ago. It was his idea to stop.
The other day I was lying on the floor in the pantry and saw a whole bunch of cans on the shelf right next to the tuna fish. I suspect he's saving them for something.
Don't you all get tired of reading about his problems?
Here is a direct quote from How Well Do Cats Hear by Pamela Merritt:
Our cat might be asleep on our bed, but they are still keeping tabs on everything that is going on. This is why we can’t slip the new bag of treats in the cupboard, or open the refrigerator, or even pull into the driveway, without them knowing. This is why sneaking on up them never works; though it is fun to try.
I always emphasize the incredible power our voices have on our cats. They love to hear themselves talked about, they love us to talk about them in soft, sweet voices, and they will always listen to our troubles.
I truly don't want to hear about his troubles. I want to hear more about me.
The other night Sparky and I both went into the garage to sit on the Cialis chairs thinking it was far enough away to avoid hearing him bellyache about the computer but it wasn't. Our hearing is twice as good as yours.
It's a blessing... and a curse.
The web cam doesn't work and the printer prints but will not scan. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.
How quickly he forgets about his days of talking on the telephone without seeing the person on the other end. Or needing to drive to a store, pay ten cents, make a copy, have a stamped envelope and mail it when he needed a document sent.
He better get that scanner fixed.
Wait....I just thought of something.
Why not do this: Take a picture of the document, upload it then send it to yourself as an Email attachment......
He better get that scanner fixed.
I probably shouldn't tell you this but it's not gossip because I heard it with my superior ears. Chuck was talking about the house and how it was going on 40 years old and things were breaking and how he was even older and...well you get the idea. And I thought old? You think your house is old? You think you're old?
You could be a cat.
According to Purina we age, in people years, 25-1 for the first 2 years then 4-1 after that. This means I'm like 74 but I think Purina just wants to sell old-age senior citizen type cat food. I think I should double check this because I sure don't feel like I'm 74.
The first two years equal 25, so that makes me only 49.......49, not even 50.
I should feel much better being under 50 but I'm a cat. I don't know how old I am.
And that's even better.
Tell you the truth, it's OK I am simply Steve the Cat.
I eat, I sleep, I poop in a box.
1 comment:
Love it. Very creative Chuck. Steve is very creative.
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