i swear i didn't make this lolcat from today's cheezeburger:
see more Lolcats and funny pictures
this is why smudge was due for shots about 4 months ago and he hasn't gone yet.
well, it's not entirely accurate - they don't show that cat peeing all over his human.
Smudgeland Uniform Code of Conduct (SUCC) Article 37 Section 2 Subsection (a)(3):
When humans (defined as Father and Mother; no other members of their species are afforded the special category of human, as they are to be killed on sight) enter Smudgeland, they are allowed no more than 10 seconds to drop any extraneous packages, whereupon they must proceed immediately to the bedroom. The Exalted Leader and Ruler of All He Surveys (hereinafter referred to as "Smudge") will lead the way.
Smudge will jump onto the bed and take his position on the lower right quadrant. Father human must sit in the upper right. Mother human must lay down from lower left to lower right quadrants. Humans must then express their remorse at ever leaving Smudge with constant and repeated Stroking. Smudge will remain seated in Sphinx position while beating at their arms with his Tail. If the humans are pleasing to Smudge, He may reward them with nearly indetectable purrs. If the humans cannot hear it, it is humans' own shortcomings that prevent this. Stroking will continue regardless of purrs.
If humans stop Stroking, Smudge will look at them imperiously. This is expected to remind humans of their place in the Smudgeland hierarchy (such place being the lowest of the low). Extended periods of non-Stroking will result in bites, swift and merciless, to the fleshiest parts of the humans. In addition, Smudge may bite humans while they are Stroking Smudge. This in no way reflects on the quality of the Stroking (which is always insufficient, in any case), but is merely the prerogative of Smudge. In no instance does Biting constitute valid reason for humans to cease Stroking.
Stroking will continue until, and only until, Smudge has decided to leave the bed. At that point, the humans are free to do their business, until their presence or duty is required by Smudge. (See, Article 17, Acts and Behaviors Sanctioned in Humans)
SUCC 37.2(a)(3)(i):
If humans enter Smudgeland and do not immediately proceed to the customary and required practice of Stroking, as delineated hereinabove, or alternatively, if only one human follows protocol and the other desecrates the sanctity of Smudge's writ of law, the punishment will be as follows: Smudge will run from room to room, loudly voicing His displeasure. This will be in the form of ear-splitting yowls, including, but not limited to, "Row-ROW" or "MRRROWWWW". Such Utterances will continue unabated, and in increasing volume, until both humans assume their required positions and begin paying homage in the fashion properly described hereinabove.
SO SAYETH SMUDGE.
i've finally gotten some photo and video evidence of a few of the quirks i've blogged about.
first, let's look at smudge, sprawled out on the clutter of our desks
(jeff has decorated this room in the style of exploded computer
factory), with his head on his "pillow" - sleeping comfortably.
i debated whether or not to post these, because you can clearly see the mess in our bedroom, and my mother's voice is shrieking in my head that no one must see this sin. but i think you'll forgive me. (forgive me, too, the fact that my video compression program seems to make videos repeat themselves - and you may need to let it load completely before playing.)
jeff was laying on my side of the bed as i came in from the bathroom. smudge, of course, tried to attack my feet. i tried to block him or immobilize him by holding the back of his head, while he yowled and lunged at me. i reached for the water bottle, and he broke free and jumped up onto my night table.
normally, this is where he rolls around on top of it, doing his "i'm so cute don't you want to touch me?" dance. except, of course, if i reach out to him, he slashes me with his claws and tries to bite whatever vulnerable part of my hand he can get.
this time, jeff was where i usually am, with his head under smudge. so jeff reached up and grabbed smudge's foot. make no mistake, this is a death wish. instantly, smudge reached out to jeff, and i thought there would be claws, but instead, the little bastard held his daddy's hand and let jeff tickle under his chin.
okay, let's see. i reached out to stroke smudge's fur. SLASH! BITE!
jeff poked smudge's butt. hi, daddy, i love you, please cuddle with me.
i put my hand out about 6 inches away from smudge. his paw shot out and he tried to hook my hand with his claws.
i give up.
there are people who live in a house down the block who are, frankly, disgusting. they had elderly parents who would scoot around the block in their wheelchairs, begging the neighbors for money, saying their daughter stole their social security checks. they had a pit bull that they either let loose because they didn't care, or who escaped through the giant gaping holes in their collapsing fence, and would end up trying to walk in my mother's front door. there are small trees growing in the rain gutters on their roof. we refer to them as the hillbillies, no offense to anyone from appalachia or other similar rural areas.
the other night, my mother called me at about 11pm, and i immediately heard in her voice that she was upset.
"i just went outside to get something from my car, and squeak was still outside and i thought i saw him down the block sitting in the hillbillies' driveway, and i was going to walk over and get him inside for the night, when they pulled up in their truck and the woman got out, and bent over, and scooped him up onto her shoulder and she took him inside! i don't know what to do!"
i asked, just for clarity's sake, "mom, are you actually telling me you think they kidnapped your cat?"
"i don't know, i couldn't see him well enough, i think it was a gray cat..."
"mom."
"they took my baby!"
"mom. that cat runs away from you when you want him to come inside, and he loves you. do you really think that, even if for some reason these people had the need to steal a cat, that he would sit there and just let them scoop him up and walk inside with him?"
"do you think he's ok?"
"good night, mom. i'll see you and squeak in the morning."
squeak spends bits of his day off doing mysterious things god knows where, and then the rest of the time sound asleep -- no different than other cats.
yesterday, he was stone cold unconscious from 9am to 3pm on my mother's bed. his companions changed from minnie, to dora, then back to minnie, but squeak stayed there.
and for good measure, here's ghost passed out on the couch. i just thought it was funny because that's exactly the way i nap on the couch. and then i wake up with a stiff neck.
smudge has always been a split personality - floofy and warm one minute, psychotic and homicidal the next, but lately it's been more and more of the psycho kitty. actually, there's more of the sweet one too, it's just that there doesn't seem to be any neutral time where he just leaves me the hell alone. and the majority of the day he's the evil twin. the one who pretends to be the nice one just to get you to let your guard down so he can get in close for the kill.
i cannot walk across the apartment without him chasing after me like a sheepdog, biting at my ankles.
i cannot sit at my desk without him jumping up, walking across the keyboard, and biting my hands.
i cannot get back into bed at 6am after getting up to pee, without him trying to draw blood from my feet before i can tuck them under the covers.
i cannot walk out of the bathroom any time of the day without having to step over him, which for some reason angers him beyond belief, so that he comes after me yowling and clawing.
i cannot take anything out of my night table drawer without him jumping on top and swatting at my hands.
i cannot ride for five minutes on the exercise bike without him leaping onto the seat and biting my back.
this is the same cat, who comes running into bed with me at night, sprawls down next to me, and makes me hold his belleh while he falls asleep. and who follows me into the bathroom when i wake up and plops down onto my feet, legs akimbo, demanding tummy rubs. and who sits next to me in the morning after i shower, with his head down, asking me to scritch behind his ears. who, when jeff and i get home at night, goes over to jeff first for some welcome-home affection, but who cries to me and comes to me and brings me over so we can both sit together and show him love.
i can handle a rambunctious, playful cat. but he is enormous and strong and he does not know that he is playing too rough. and he's so spoiled that when i try to tell him to back off, he just gets angrier that he isn't getting his way with me. it's gotten to the point where i am going to have to fashion a holster for the spray bottle so i can wear it at all times when i'm home. there were strips of skin hanging off the back of my hand this morning, after my mere existence somehow offended him and flipped his evil switch to the "on" position. strips. of skin.
smudge likes to stretch out on the desk between jeff and me when we're at the computers. as a joke, jeff tucked a little grain-filled carpal tunnel wrist pillow under smudge's head. it's cute, like he's got his own little kitty pillow to sleep on.
now, when smudge jumps onto the desk and annoys us, all we have to do is tap the thing and say "smudgie... pillow! pillow!" and he lays right down, puts his head on his pillow, and falls asleep.
we were all hanging out after dinner, jeff and i on the couch watching true blood, smudge sprawled on the carpet watching us. all of a sudden i saw one of those bugs we get every so often, and this one was the biggest yet. it must have had eight million legs and it was zipping around the molding by the kitchen door.
i don't know if smudge would have noticed it without my shrieking and jumping up and down, but he did see it and went after it. with something this size, however, we do not have the luxury of letting smudge play with his new toy and risk letting it escape. so the next thirty seconds was a ballet of smudge smacking the bug while jeff tries to get past him and get a grip on the monster with his bug-grabbing stick.
let me tell you, that fucker moves fast. it managed to crawl under the sideboard. poor smudge. he tried getting under the sideboard from all sides, but he couldn't get in and the bug was not coming out. he spent the next five minutes pacing back and forth, occasionally walking up to me and meowing his displeasure. after a while, he sat under a chair and stared at the sideboard, willing the creature to crawl out.
the thing is, i know it will come out again. they always do. but it's never in the same place. it'll be over our bed tonight, or in the shower. it's only a matter of time.
UPDATE: turns out "a matter of time" was about 45 minutes. dumb bug crawled out exactly where it was before, and we all took our customary roles -- me squealing and running out of the room, smudge pouncing, and jeff running after it with the stick. only this time, jeff caught it. just like a great hunting hound, smudge chased it into a corner and held it there until daddy could come in for the kill. then he followed jeff with the trophy to the bathroom, and he watched as it was flushed away.
now he's sitting under the chair again, the picture of patience, staring at the sideboard from where the bug emerged not once, but twice. i know smudge is thinking it must be a magical prey-dispensing machine. it had damn well better not be, is all i'm saying.
