"Conversations" With Bear Cat: Part 6

Ever wonder about what conversations occur in the Momma Kat household?

Bear and I talk quite a bit - about a whole lot of random things, like paper bags, spiders, bathroom mirrors . . . and is Momma pregnant?!?!? If you missed those extended "conversations" that are deserving of their own blog posts, you can find them: {HERE} and {HERE}. You can also read Bear's first solo post {HERE} - and it's all about what he thinks of Momma (you might be surprised)!

See the previous collections of shorter "conversations" {HERE}{HERE}{HERE}, {HERE}, and {HERE}.

Here's a sample of the shorter dialogues from the past few weeks (some already posted to Momma Kat's Facebook page):

BC: Bear Cat
MK: Momma Kat

On being superior:
BC: What happened to you?
MK: What do you mean?
BC: Your fur is standing up all over the place. Did you stick your paw in the socket?
MK: No, I was napping, remember? You jumped on my back in the middle of a dream where I was being attacked . . . and I flipped over and knocked you off?
BC: I thought you were dreaming of being a ninja! I dream of hunting and fishing and being a ninja and unlimited buffets and towering tuna cakes and girl kitties and taking over the world and catching the little red dot and dismembering all the spiders in the world and taking out all the birds and squirrels in one fell swoop and it's all so beautiful! My fur never looks like that - and I sleep 18 hours a day!
MK: Are you feeling superior?
BC: It's not as much fun as it used to be. At first, I got a rush every time I realized I was smarter or cuter or sexier or whatever-er, but now it's just expected, so eh.
MK: At least you aren't ever disappointed.
BC: Constantly feeling disappointed must be hard for you.
MK: Thank you for noticing.
BC: And you say I don't listen to you!

On cat burritos:
BC: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Don't touch me! You're going to do something horrible! I can feel it!!
MK: Why would you be afraid of me holding a towel? What could I possibly do to you with a towel?
BC: I've heard talk of "cat burritos" - are you going to burrito me?
MK: Have I ever done that before?
BC: Well, no. But all it takes is one time! Then Katzam! NO CAT.
MK: Maybe you should let your overactive imagination take a nap while I dry up the water all over the kitchen floor.
BC: There's water on the kitchen floor? Why didn't you say that before? WOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
MK: Towel no longer necessary.
MK: Let me know when you're done.
MK: Oh my. Have water. Add cat. Hours of fun.

On using the "nice" scratching posts:
MK: Can't you use your scratching posts? You have NINE of them on your cat tree.
BC: But they're NICE! I don't want to ruin them with every day use! The carpet and your furniture ar already destroyed!
MK: And how did that happen?
BC: I have no idea. For all I know, you invite all the neighborhood cats over while I'm sleeping and they do it.
MK: But . . .
BC: {interrupting} Don't even go there! You do the same thing with clothes and kitchen stuff and towels and sheets . . . it's always, "Well, I'll use this crappy/holey/worn out x even though I have really nice x, because I don't want to ruin my nice x." I LEARNED IT FROM YOU.
MK: But . . .
BC: "Oooh! Let me wear these holey sweatpants from high school TWENTY YEARS AGO - even though they're drafty, because I don't want to ruin my NEW sweatpants." SWEATPANTS!
MK: Are you done?
BC: Have I won yet?
MK: I think so.
BC: "Ooooh! Let me use the sheet with a 5 foot rip up the center - instead of using my nice new sheets - to save them for something . . . sometime . . ." Or how about, "These are really nice shoes . . . I'm not going to wear them . . . for TEN YEARS," at which point they fall apart the second you put them on because the rubber is so old.
MK: Yes.
BC: As if there were any doubt that I would.
MK: I don't even know why I try anymore.
BC: Because you like a smack-down every so often?
MK: And you're always more than willing to provide it. Thanks.
BC: Just doing my job.
(Correction: ten scratching posts - thanks to my editor (Bear) for pointing out the error.)

On snuggling protocol:
MK: Momma's been working and running all day. Can we have some dedicated snuggling time?
BC: No walk-ins allowed. You have to make an appointment.
MK: Really?
{Momma picks Bear up and starts petting him behind the ears}
BC: WE DIDN'T HAVE AN APPOINTMENT . . . er . . . uh . . . {sigh} PPPPUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR. Damn it, Momma. Petting me behind the ears isn't even fair. PURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR. I should have more self-control . . . PURRRRRRRRRRRRR . . . I won't stand for this! PPPUUUURRRRRRRRRR . . . I . . . PURRRRRRR . . . not fair . . . PURRRRRRRRRRRR {sigh} . . . PPPUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.
MK: {smiling and relaxing} I love you, Bear.
BC: {cooing sigh} I love you too, Momma.

On the selfishness of Momma Kat: 
BC: Wait! No! You're going in the wrong direction! The kitchen is the other way!
MK: You know how this works . . . I eat first, then you get your treat.
BC: Life is so unfair! I'm STARVING. I might not make it that long!
MK: That's fantastic - you have an entire bowl of food.
BC: But it's not the kind I want! My "REAL" mom would understand! You always put yourself first.
MK: Then why do I turn on my back when you want to snuggle, even though it kills my back, because laying on my chest is your favorite way to snuggle?
BC: I don't know what you're talking about!
MK: And how many times have I lost feeling in parts of my body - either from contorting myself uncomfortably so that you don't have to move or from laying in one position for hours because I don't want snuggle time to end?
BC: I still don't know what you're talking about.
MK: Or, there's the times you wake me up because you need attention RIGHT NOW, and I oblige even though I'm grumpy and tired and just want to sleep.
BC: You're being irrational! You want to be selfish? FINE. Enjoy your food while I sit here and starve! Don't mind my meows of agony as I slowly waste away from hunger!

On the cat highway: 
MK: Wanna help me make the bed?
BC: Do I look like cheap labor?
MK: I'm using the new sheets.
BC: Why didn't you say that before? I LOVE a clean slate.
MK: That's what I'm afraid of.
BC: You wouldn't want a random cat to walk by your bed and think it's not taken and then snuggle up next to you, would you? I do you a service - the least you could do is appreciate it.
MK: You're right . . . our house is essentially a highway for random cats passing through. But it's hard to appreciate a sheet with a 5 foot rip up the center.
BC: I can only take credit for a foot or two of that - the washer did the rest . . . WAIT!?!?! A highway for random cats goes through this house? How come I never see them? Are they invisible? Do they sneak around? I told you cats can't be trusted! I'm going to be in my paper bag - watching through the flap for the infidels! I'll show them! No wonder my food bowl is always empty!
MK: Oh, Bear.
BC: SHHHHHHHH! I'm not here. And I AM NOT A CAT.
Bear's bag with custom built-in flap (or spy hole)

On the procedures of outdoor wrangling:
{After spending a few minutes outside, Momma is trying to corral Bear back inside}
{Bear turns around to bite Momma's foot, as he is not ready to go back inside}
BC: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! You're wearing socks! This is a travesty! You tricked me! You are supposed to be barefoot! That's the way we do this! I can't get maximum bitage through SOCKS! I'm doomed! DOOMED! I can't even show you my displeasure and make sure you remember when you crossed me!
MK: {chuckling}
BC: {now inside} That's fine. You'll take them off eventually . . . and I'll be waiting . . .

On being provincial:
BC: {Sitting by the front door) I'm ready to go!
MK: What?
BC: I saw you put on a bra - that means you're going out. I'm ready.
MK: You aren't coming.
BC: You hate me, don't you?!?! You're embarrassed to be seen with me in public . . . when it should be the other way around! You never let me go anywhere! You want to keep me provincial and ignorant of the word around me! You're scared I'll find something better!
MK: Every time you've ridden in the car, you've panicked and freaked out. Not to mention bursting Momma's ear drums with your protests.
BC: Wait, did you say 'car?'
MK: Yes Bear. That's how I get around.
BC: I'm assuming that means carrier. Never mind.
MK: I thought you didn't want to be provincial . . . that you wanted to discover new frontiers?
MK: Already then.

On tainted love: 
{Momma bends down to pet Bear}
MK: Oh for crying out loud! I just washed my hands.
BC: They're wet! You can't touch me with WET HANDS. Have you no dignity? I'm MELTING! MELTING! MELTING!
MK: Would you prefer I pet you with DIRTY hands? And you don't mind getting soaking wet outside - but a little water from my hands is going to kill you?
BC: I must go clean myself meticulously to make sure there is no residue from your tainted love. This conversation is over.
MK: How convenient.

On emergencies and Bear's security: 
BC: It's an emergency! Pet me now! Oh no! If you don't pet me RIGHT NOW, I'm going to die, right here! It must be RIGHT NOW!
MK: In case you haven't noticed, I'm trying to staunch the flow of water before . . .
BC: I WILL DIE! I feel myself getting weaker . . . falling . . . oh!
{Momma leans down and pets Bear}
MK: Bloody hell! What was that for?
BC: I was just testing . . . call it a petting drill, if you will . . . I need to be sure that if I ever need petting desperately, you'll drop everything and pet me. You don't want me to feel insecure do you?
MK: Well, no . . . of course not.
BC: And by the way, you almost failed. You do not question the wisdom of the Bear - you just follow my instructions.
MK: Fantastic.
BC: I feel SOOOOOOO much better. NOW I can sleep.
MK: Have you ever heard of "crying wolf?"
BC: Don't try to confuse me - my identity is already muddled . . . a CAT named BEAR . . . crying WOLF . . . thought to be FEMALE . . . really MALE . . . If you don't leave me alone to sleep, you'll be crying "Bear!"
MK: Can I have the rest of my finger back first?
MK: Figures.

On storms: 
BC: Mommy?
MK: Yes, Bear?
BC: I don't like storms.
MK: I know. I've seen you fall off the back of the couch and fall off your cat tree with the first burst of thunder. And you spend the rest of the storm hidden behind me.
BC: Well, then why do they keep happening?
MK: You get moist warm air from the Gulf of Mexico . . .
BC: {interrupting} No, I mean why don't you stop making them?
MK: I don't have that power. Not everything in life is how we want it.
BC: Well, then what are you here for! If that's true - you're a freeloader just like me - and you're not even cute! Every time I want to go outside, you make it wet so my paws get wet. Or you make it rain on me or cold. You think I don't know? I've seen you adjusting the temperature and weather on the box!
MK: The thermostat?
BC: Thank you. But I still don't like storms. And I know you're in on the conspiracy.
MK: You're right. The warm air and the cold air and I get together and work it all out.
BC: I will kill all of you!

On the elf in the "paper pooper:" 
BC: There's something living in the paper pooper!
MK: You mean the printer?
BC: Sure. Whatever. It's like magic! The paper comes out from no where! Maybe it comes from the paper devourer?
MK: The shredder?
BC: No, I'm not talking about myself. I shred, the devourer eats. Big difference.
MK: The printer has a tray on the inside that holds the blank paper - so it just looks like it comes from no where.
BC: NO! Ruin my dumbfoundment. You take all the fun out of life. Next thing you're going to tell me is that there's not a little elf on the inside that types everything super fast.
MK: Well . . .
BC: I've made it my life's mission to catch him!
MK: I thought your life's mission was to catch the little red dot?
BC: I have nine lives.
MK: What are the other seven missions?
BC: It's classified. If I told you, I'd have to kill you. Then who'd feed me?
MK: The little elf in the printer?

"I'm going to get you, you little elf . . . if it's the last thing I do!"

On being a "biter kitty:" 
{Momma laying in bed, awake, after yet another rousing by Bear.}
{Momma petting Bear}
BC: NomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomNNNNNNNNNOM!
BC: You pushed me off the bed!
MK: You bit me! And you were doing that thing where you look for more exposed skin - which tells me it was the beginning of an extended terrorist attack and not just a random bite.
BC: I'm waiting!
MK: To bite me the second I get out of bed? No thanks. You woke me up - I'm going back to sleep.
BC: NOOOOOOOOOOOO! I have the "biter kitty's."
MK: Tough toeclaws. You're welcome to transform into "lover kitty" and snuggle with me though.
BC: You're mean. You stifle my expressions of catness.
MK: You're more than welcome to bite yourself.
BC: Why would I do that? It'd hurt!
MK: Good night.
BC: Party pooper! {dramatic sigh}
{Bear jumps on bed, halfheartedly bites Momma - which she ignores - then cuddles up, not quite touching Momma, but as close as he can without giving up his statement of displeasure and offense}
BC: {mumbling to himself} This is crap. An outrage! Oppression! Persecution! Oh, it's such a burden to be a cat! To be me! Woe! Alas . . . uh . . . me . . . mean . . . uh . . . ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.
{In his sleep, Bear readjusts slightly to snuggle right up to Momma}
{Momma smiles to herself heart emoticon heart emoticon heart emoticon }

On contentment:
{Momma and Bear snuggling on the couch with Bear using Momma's arm as a pillow}
MK: This is the best part of my day.
MK: I love you, Bear.
BC: I love you, Momma.

On hunting:
{Bear and Momma are playing on the floor}
MK: Oh! You're soooo cute!
{Momma pets Bear's back}
BC: DON'T TOUCH ME! What part of "ferocious hunter" do you not understand?!?!?!
MK: But you're so CUTE when you chase around your string or the flashlight! Your little wiggling butt, you pouncing all over the place, your swift moves . . . it's just TOO CUTE and I want to pet you!
BC: You don't think it's "cute" when my ferocious hunter takes a chunk out of your leg or your clothes.
MK: Well, no. I don't appreciate that.
BC: Then "oh cute!" ferocious hunter at your own peril.

On getting "smarterer:" 
BC: You are a floccinaucinihilipilification.
MK: Excuse me?
BC: Flok-suh-naw-suh-nahy-hil-uh-pil-uh-fi-KEY-shuh n.
MK: Lovely.
BC: Don't you want to know what it means?
MK: Not really. Since it's coming from you, I'm sure it's not a compliment. Why get up to look it up if it's only going to insult me?
BC: How are you ever going to get smarterer if you refuse to leave your comfortable cloud of ignorance?
MK: I'll take my chances. Or you could insult me in words that I understand - as usual.
BC: Where's the fun in that?
MK: It doesn't seem to stop you at any other time.
BC: You have a hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia.
MK: No. Just a Bearfancypantwordinsultaphobia.

On exercise: 
{Momma's sitting on the floor, swinging the cat toy around - Bear runs one way to chase it, then flops unceremoniously on his back}
MK: Flopping on your back is not exercise! We are supposed to be playing - interactively. For your health. And to keep your mind engaged.
BC: And what are you doing, besides swinging a cat toy around?
MK: Sitting on my butt.
BC: And you don't see the hypocrisy in that?
MK: I admit I've been lazy - and I've not been playing with you like I should - I'm trying to do better.
BC: I love how you consider not playing with me lazy - even though you spend the entire time we play sitting on the floor tossing things around.
MK: I'm not allowed to exercise.
BC: That's an excuse. Face it - you are lazy and chunky just like me and you're not all that motivated to change it, right?
MK: I'm not allowed to exercise.
{Bear runs at and attacks Momma}
MK: {getting up from sitting on the floor} Well, at least it got you off your butt!
BC: Oh yeah?
{Bear runs at Momma and attacks her leg, causing her to run}
BC: {in a mocking tone} Well, at least it got you off your butt!
MK: @#$%^&*! This is why you have to be entertained! Otherwise, you act like I'm your chew toy and "hunt" me incessantly.
BC: Right. Keep telling yourself that. You "exercise" just fine, with the right "motivation."

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