...It’s the M-I-L, E to the S,
The rockin' Russian Blue who loves you best
Hey there everyone, it’s been a while since I’ve checked in, and boy, have I had some crazy adventures. I’m a little discombobulated these days (how’s that for a big-cat word) (it took me about 30 seconds to type it though, damn paws without opposable thumbs), but we’ll get to that in a second.
So the best place to start is probably a few weeks back. I had been helping Kimberly with her thesis. She may have had all the “ideas” and done all the “typing,” but I basically wrote the thing for her: you know what they say, behind every good woman, is a cat. I’d have to agree whole-heartedly.
Then one day, these two decided to take me for a car ride. I try to tell them over and over again that I don’t want to go in the car: I wail incessantly, I throw up on the rug, I wake them at 5 a.m. They really need to learn Cat-alonian if this whole relationship is going to work out.
Anyways, they think they’re so slick, trying to trick me into getting into the Box, but I know what they’re doing. If there wasn’t two of them, I wouldn’t have gotten in, but they over-powered me. It’s not so much the car that’s the problem, it’s that dam Box, it keeps closing in on me. Once we were in the car, I really turned on the wailing and gave Kimberly the Puss-in-Boots eyes; I really turned it on. She eventually relented, and I was free to burrow under the seats. Ah the safety of darkness.
I figured we were heading down to that nice old woman’s house; I think they called her Grandmama. She was nice, giving me treats and lots of petting, kind of like a spa treatment. But no, we ended up at some strange house where everything was a little suspicious. There was a weird scent in the air. Once I got in, it was obvious: new friends.
Ben and Jerry seemed like nice enough cats, but they were not happy to see me. Hiss, growl, hiss hiss hiss. That Ben, he needs to chill out. Jerry seemed cool, but Ben was all freaking, so I couldn’t really get to know him.
I figured the best way to avoid showing him who was boss and giving him a swipe to the head was to hide under the couch for a while; I wouldn’t want to embarrass someone in their own house. But we all know I could have. I was happy when Kimberly got me out from the couch and gave me some treats. I was really happy when we left that place and the ominous, terrible smells of Ben and Jerry.
Things were back to normal at home for a while, as I settled back into my cycle of eating, sleeping, and whining. But boxes kept showing up and things slowly started disappearing. Something was up.
My fears were confirmed when they drugged me. Yup, my so-called caretakers gave me tranquilizers, and as far as I can tell, it was all a cruel joke. I almost fell off the window, couldn’t eat, and was constipated for days. Don’t get me wrong, the semi-comatose sleep and melting walls were pretty cool, but the hangover was killer. I still have no idea why they would do that to me. Maybe not enough wailing and whining?
When I finally recovered from my haze, half the house was missing and the boxes had grown and covered half the house. Now something was definitely up.
I tried laying low for a while until I could figure things out. I even cut back on the whining and increased the sleeping and eating. Then out of nowhere, we were back in the car again. They had grabbed my lead and harness, so I figured we were going outside for a nice afternoon of chewing on grass and vomiting on the bed. But they tricked me, again. I’m really gonna get them.
We ended up back at Ben and Jerry’s house – I could tell as soon as I smelled them. When I got inside, though, they were no where to be found. That was cool. I wandered around, checked out the scene, scratched the post for a while. This place wasn’t so bad; lots of space, lots of windows to look out, lots of dark hiding places.
Then out of nowhere was Jerry, all by himself. Cool. Hey buddy. He gave me the old submissive move, rolling onto his back and showing me his belly, sniffing my butt. Like I said, this Jerry is pretty cool. We’ve been getting along pretty well, sleeping and eating like old buddies.
But Ben, he’s one uptight cat. Hiss hiss hiss. Growl growl growl. All day long. I try to walk down the hall and get a little shut-eye – hiss. I need to use the litter box – growl. I understand it’s your place, I’m cool with that. It’s not like I want to live here. I just want to be friends, ok.
Well, Ben isn’t getting the message. I’ve had to slap him around a little bit the last couple days. And I feel bad about it, you know. It’s his house, his brother. But really, if you’re going to keep disrespecting me, I’m going to have to start laying down the law more often and show you how the food chain works. I don’t want it to go down this way – like I said, lets be friends, sniff a little butt together – but if I have to, I will give you a swipe.
I’ve actually been over here for a few days now, claiming my spaces, checking out the lay of the land. Kimberly and Peter were here the past couple nights; I guess we’re all moving to this place. That’s cool. They just left a little while ago, carrying some bags. It looks like they’re still moving some things around.
I can’t wait until they get home from work and we can snuggle. Just like old times.
Sometimes Ben and Jerry like to come out and watch with me, but they're not as interested; they roll to their own beat. 
The woman who lives here came home. She said she saw those other two and they send their love. But she also told me they've been galavanting all over Europe with new and different cats, even threatening to replace me. 
