"Conversations" With Bear Cat: Part 1

Ever wonder about what conversations occur in the Momma Kat household? Here's a sample from the past week (some already posted to Momma Kat's Facebook page):

BC: Bear Cat
MK: Momma Kat

On demonstrations of affection:
{Background info: Bear has 3 or 4 cats who regularly "visit" him. When they are hanging around, he caterwauls and howls and stares at them with googly eyes for as long as they stay - some times as much as a few hours (usually at night). When the visitors start to leave, he runs from window to window to get the best view and meows mournfully like he's losing his best friend. He's even chewed through the blinds so he has quick entry and exit points. Momma Kat has given him multiple opportunities to "meet" his "friends" outside - all of which ended with Bear at the front door howling, banging on the door desperately with his front paws, and with his tail between his legs. As soon as he is inside and the door is shut, he goes back to the window to stare at them again.}

BC: How many times do I have to tell you?!?!? Cats don't do kisses!
MK: But I'm not actually kissing you - just getting close.
BC: That's enough!
MK: But you stick your nose (and paw, and butt, and tail, and . . . ) in my face all the time.
BC: That's different.
MK: ?????
BC: It just is. I have my street cred to protect.
MK: You? Street cred? BWAHAHAHAHA.
BC: You know I got it!
MK: Pretty sure that street cred is that you're a scared-y cat. You run from birds, squirrels, other cats, dogs, insects that buzz, other people, your own shadow . . . just a breeze causes you to poof up.
BC: I don't know what you're talking about.
MK: I've given you multiple opportunities to "meet" the friends you stare at with googly eyes through the window. Every single time, you howl and run like a cat out of hell - with your tail tight up against your belly. And if I don't close the door quick enough, you end up under the bed.
BC: I'm just playing hard to get - you know the ladies love that $#!+. What woman hasn't wanted a guy that was "unavailable" in one way or another? 

MK: Where did you learn that?
BC: You think I don't notice the guys you go for? You certainly love the "hard to get" guys.
MK: But you run with your tail between your legs and go hide under the bed - until you hear me close and lock the door.
BC: That's just me showing the ladies that I respect them - I recognize their power!

MK: Then why do you poof up like a frightened kitten?
BC: I'm showing them my beautiful plumage!
MK: Plumage? You do realize you're a short-haired cat, right? 
BC: It's not the length that matters - it's the quality.
MK: Don't you think it's slightly strange to only want to have a relationship through a window?
BC: You remember Mr. X? He . . .  and you . . . Then there's Mr. Q . . . And Mr. P . . .
MK: OK, fine you win that point. But don't you think at least 1 of the 4 is a male? The odds favor that outcome.
BC: This from the momma who thought I was a girl for months. What do you know?
MK: Maybe the black and white cat who bangs his rump loudly on the window over and over again - and is the only one that rivals your howling?
BC: Who? Meorge?
MK: Is that supposed to be "cat" for "George?" Because "George" is a male name. 
BC: Cats are always backwards.
MK: I couldn't say it better myself. In that case, I should have kept calling you "Lily." I think it's time you learn how to walk on a leash. Or I could start knitting cat outfits. We'd be the talk of the neighborhood!
BC: Not unless you want to die in your sleep. Any one of those would be sufficient. All three, and it would be exceedingly painful.

On snuggling positions:
This scenario occurs a few times each day (and even more frequently than in the past because MK has just started giving in, so BC knows all he has to do is wait MK out):

{BC jumps up on the couch where MK is laying on her side . . . walks the perimeter a few times (back of the couch, one arm, edge of the couch, other arm), all while looking at the way MK is laying, before sitting in the meatloaf position on the arm of the couch opposite MK's head}

MK: Can I help you?
BC: You know what I want.
MK: For crying out loud! You know I can't lay on my back on this couch for very long before it really hurts and I lose feeling in half my body.
MK: Can't we at least compromise?
BC: What's that?
MK: I lay on my back for 10 minutes and then I get to lay on my side for awhile.
BC: No, I mean what's a compromise? I'm not moving from this spot until you provide the sleeping/cuddling spot that I prefer.

MK: But it hurts me!
BC: So?
MK: Cuddling is cuddling whether you're laying on me or beside me/half on me. Both ways you get to curl up.
BC: I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer.
MK: I'm starting to think that everyone is right when they say you are spoiled.
BC: Lady, I only demand what I deserve.
MK: {as she turns to lay on her back} @#$%^&*!
BC: Thank you. I'm past my naptime because you insist on being stubborn.
MK: @#$%^&*!

On peace and quiet:
MK: Bear?!?!?
BC: NOW what?!?! It's always, "Bear do this!", "Bear don't do that!", "Bear, Bear, Bear!" Can't I ever get peace and quiet around here? Now I know why the big dodo left.
MK: Ummmmm . . . I was going to ask you what flavor of food you want for your treat . . .
BC: Oh. Salmon and chicken.
MK: Can we talk about what you said earlier?
BC: Less talking, more fooding!
{Bear gets food}
BC: Nomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnom.
{Bear finishes eating}
MK: Now can we talk about your earlier comment?
BC: Nap time. 
MK: When do I ever ask you to do anything? Or yell at you?
BC: All the time. I know you do - I don't have to provide examples. If I had opposable thumbs, I'd keep a list. 
MK: Right, you can't remember any examples because you don't have the ability to write them down.
BC: You bug me even when I'm sleeping! What could I possibly do while I'm sleeping?!?!
MK: Perhaps it's because I found the mess you made in the other room.
BC: It's not a "mess," it's art! I worked hard for 4 months to make the last piece . . . and my pièce de résistance is coming soon.
MK: I can't imagine anything topping that last furball. And I don't yell at you.
BC: You don't need to - I see how you look at me. It just screams "yelling."
MK: So basically, I don't yell at you or bug you for no reason.
BC: You're still talking.
MK: And that about sums it up.

On Bear's "mistreatment":
MK: That's coming out of your allowance!
BC: But I don't get an allowance!
MK: Hmmmm . . . I wonder why that is?
BC: Because you're a cheap tightwad whose mission in life is to make me miserable. And you hate me!
MK: You're right. I gave you a forever home because I hate you and just want to torture you.
BC: You admit it!
MK: {Roll eyes}. I'd think some cat that boasts about superior intelligence would recognize sarcasm.
BC: I have no idea what you're talking about!

On the vacuum:
BC: Haha! While you use that evil machine . . . I will tear up your couch!!! Haha - TAKE THAT! AND THAT!
(Momma is vacuuming the other side of the room - facing away) Wait, NOOOOO, don't turn around, I'm not done yet!
MK: Too late. I couldn't hear you (very clever), but I saw you.
BC: @#$%&*! 
MK: What, you want to roll around on carpet that is full of junk and get it stuck in your fur?
BC: But you negotiate with terrorists!
MK: The vacuum?!?! I negotiate with you all the time - and you're a terrorist!
BC: We don't negotiate, I'm the boss. And when I take what I want by force of claw and fang, at least I'm cute.
MK: So it's OK to negotiate with a cute terrorist?
BC: We don't negotiate. I do what I want and you live with it because I'm cute.
MK: @#$%&*! {SIGH}
BC: Damn right!

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