(One of my first ventures into memoirs…I write to conquer, with the piercing eyes of a kitty who was photographed really badly, haha)
2013
All those seemingly depressed people out there muttering about a dog’s life this and a dog’s life that are right about dogs. But my life as a kitty is just about the most perfect life any cat could have, short of having more things to tear the throat out of, just kidding, but I’m a sort of in and out cat, in for the food, sleep, snuggles, all that mooshy stuff, and then after breakfast, I’m outta there. I sneak past mama and papa and high tail it (cats actually do that) for the door and garden.
It’s a small garden, a little like San Quentin in that there are high walls of powder-coated dark green wire fencing and if I climbed up and over, I’d be falling a good two stories down to the next yard or the neighbor’s garden and he surely does not want me chasing his merle over the worm-ridden terra firma that he so carefully tends. No way, Jose.
And I caught a bird. Once. That’s about it for the hunter instinct around here. Every now and then some other dude shows up, looking a lot like me, snappy tuxedo and all, and maybe we were out of the same litter or something, because I get all funny in the tummy and emit one of those low, low growls that cats communicate with to let their visitors (a nice word for intruder) know that I have personally marked my garden with…well…with markers, and that dude ain’t got NO place around here to park his butt.
Normally I do not talk like that.
Mama and papa, who, of course, are not at all my mama and papa but who have become so because we bonded early on and it was sort of like those ducks that get born and start following their keepers’ Wellingtons all around the pond because their mother has been taken by a fox or shot by some asspole with a very loud scary instrument that stands in for….well, and so the first thing they see, really see because ducks are sort of blind when born, like kitties, as least I think they are, so the first thing in their vision is a big yellow or mud-green boot sloshing through the wet grass or standing in the pond where they are going to float about in life, dipping every now and again for whatever is lurking down there to dip at.
I don’t know a heck of a lot about ducks and why should I. What do they know about me, for heaven’s sake, except to waddle faster when I show up?
So these two uprights are my family. One is a little thing, skinny, if you ask me, but then, I have a little paunch right now and mama’s trying to take me down to size with half-rations. At first she bought some of that obese-kitty stuff, wet and dry, and she tried that out on me for a few days because papa kept saying, this cat was four-plus plus when she wandered in and now she’s five, but he didn’t do anything to get me skinnier.
Mama played and played with me to get me to run but I’m not a running kind of kitty. I’m a thinker (as you can tell by my photo).
Tomorrow, I may offer up one more of these memoir pages, if this stuff isn’t putting you to sleep, haha…
Short and sweet is my motto, but one has to branch out every now and then.
Thank you all for the comments on my early memories. I appreciated that you are perhaps having a smile or two when you read this kitty’s fleeting thoughts on life
I love reading what you wrote about in the past, Loulou. ~Ernie
THANK YOU, I wasn’t sure it wouldn’t bore anthros being so long….but I think I am making a book of these past memories as there are many…
Great memoir writing, Loulou, and ‘asspole’ made me laugh out loud. I wholeheartedly agree with the name.
A little girl six years old in mama’s neighborhood in LA couldn’t pronounce the word and came up with that. I’m glad you like it, it’s so much nicer, haha.
Loulou, your memoir is GREAT! A bit like mine when Mamma saw “Lurch” (from the Addam’s Family) dragging me with a rope! That did it. And I am so spoiled – we both are, teehee!!! And LUCKY!!!
LURCH DRAGGED MY FRIEND, MYA, WITH A ROPE. If I run into that guy, he has better watch his family jewels!!!!!!
Oh I DOOOOOOOOOO like your Memoir Loulou…..there’s a lot to figure out when we first come to live with our humans. They are a strange lot and sometimes don’t seem to “get” what felines are all about. They take some training and a lot of patience but eventually MOST of them come around and treat us like the SPECIAL BEINGS that we are!!!!! We’re lucky!
Hugs, Teddy
Thank you, Teddy. But what I don’t get is why do they not GET it in the first place, duh! Anthros are so, so weird.
We enjoyed the opening of your memoirs LouLou ! It is always interesting to learn about friends before we met them.
Well, there are a lot more coming, but I think I’m going to put them in a little book. Your opinion is important!
Loulou, we think you’ve got a good thing going!
We once took Celestial Chuck to the vet, because he was scooting his backside on the floor.
I was sure it had something to do with anal glands.
Imaging our embarrassment when the vet declared that he was too fat and couldn’t clean himself!
WHOA! Color me red with shame, but we immediately switched to wet cat food exclusively, and both Chuck and his sisfur Angel slimmed down nicely.
Oh, sort of draggin’as….er…whatever, haha. So glad it wasn’t that FIRST THING…getting examined for that is not fun, they tell me.
Loulou that is a very nice Meowmoir so far. Look forward to seeing it on Amazon Cats
What is Amazon Cats???? I am so dumb.
Being a thinker is much better than being a stinker!
Ha ha, you always have such fun thing say, you witty kitty.
I like your Memoir LouLou, and I also like a thinking kitty rather than a running one – MOL!
Thanks for the Penny Royal tip.
Oh, you’re welcome…I hope it works. Once when papa and mama were sleeping outside where there were fleas, mama slept with pennyroyal branches and the fleas all went to papa, haha.