"Conversations" With Bear Cat: Part 11

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. In this cycle, in 
extended "conversations" deserving of their own blog posts, we discussed: food exuberance and kitty temper tantrums {HERE} and Bear flaunting his tomcat {HERE}.  

Other blog posts in this cycle, if you missed them, include a post about the purchase of Bear's cat tree (and the resulting changes to the Momma Kat household - including "The Cat Tree Rules") with lots of pictures {HERE} and a welcome for our newest readers which provides links for learning the basics about Bear Cat {HERE}.

See the previous collections of shorter "conversations," like the ones posted below, {HERE}{HERE}{HERE}{HERE}{HERE}{HERE}{HERE}{HERE}, {HERE}, and {HERE}.

Here's the collection of shorter dialogues from the past few weeks (first posted to Momma Kat's Facebook page):

BC: Bear Cat
MK: Momma Kat

On kamikaze kitties:
BC: You're going down, SUCKER!
MK: Bear?!?! What are you doing?
BC: Noth . . .
BC: Boo-yah! Take that you arthropod loser!
MK: Bear! Leave the spider alone!
BC: You always take the spider's side!
MK: No, one of these times you're going to mess with the wrong spider.
BC: ALL spiders are wrong!
MK: Leave the spider alone!
BC: He's mocking me!
MK: The spider is not mocking you.
BC: Oh, yeah? Then why is he holding up his middle leg at me?
MK: Spiders have four legs on each side . . . it's physically impossible that he's holding up a middle leg.
BC: Right. Because YOU'RE the spider expert. He keeps calling me pretty boy and saying that I better watch myself because he knows you'll chase me away and let him run under the furniture!
MK: So now your spider talks?
BC: No. I can just tell that he's thinking that you'll take his side. Do you know what it's like to have your cathood disrespected in that way? How it feels to know your Momma will always take the side of filthy arachnids over her own kitty cat?!?! I NEED THERAPY!
MK: Leave the spider alone!
BC: Oh, crap.
BC: It's not my fault you failed to secure your breakable items!
MK: Bear, you body checked a full bookcase in some weird kamikaze kitty move . . . and knocked over something sitting on the top. Kind of hard to prepare for that.
BC: You know I have ninja moves! And a body of steel! Do you want to FEEL my STEEL?
MK: You're grounded!
BC: SEE! You punish me even when he gets away! I NEED THERAPY for my shattered ego!
MK: There's only one thing shattered in this house and that was courtesy of you.
BC: SEE! Don't say I never do anything for you.
MK: Not what I meant.
BC: Same difference.
MK: Not really.
BC: Whatever. Not my problem.
MK: It never is.

On "forgetting" Bear:
And another incident of Bear hiding in the rosebush so he doesn't have to come inside . . . see, "On shaking the bag," below for the most egregious incident yet . . .
But, including this episode, Bear's employed this tactic for the fourth time in a week . . . how do I know? Because the combination thorn/fang damage to Momma's arms is easily identifiable to each incident in terms of healing . . .

BC: MommmmMA! I'm coooooolllld! Why did you leave me outside?
MK: I didn't "leave" you outside. You hid in the rosebush again - when you saw me coming to get you.
BC: I know! But I had to wait at least 5 minutes in the cold before you brought out the treats! You went inside and forgot about me!
MK: Maybe you should have just come in on your own.
BC: But I wouldn't have gotten treats!
MK: I made the decision to not reward your behavior. You're lucky I chickened out after a few minutes and didn't wait for you to capitulate.
BC: I had to wait in the cold!
MK: I don't feel sorry for you.
BC: It's hard to stand up for what you believe in! I thought I was going to freeze to death! But I knew I deserved treats!
MK: If you keep this up, I'm not going to let you outside period.
BC: I hate you! You forgot about me!
MK: Whatever.
BC: Hey! Only I can say whatever! You're supposed to care all the time!
MK: I love you, Bear, but sometimes you truly frustrate me.
BC: Isn't that my job?

On "stealing" Bear: 
BC: Hey! What's one of the ears off my micey doing here?
MK: You ripped it off and I planned to reattach it, but I keep forgetting.
BC: You stole my mousie's ear?
MK: No. I didn't want you to eat it.
BC: So you hoarded it. If I keep looking around, will I find all my fur you've stolen by brushing me? The parts of my claws you've clipped off? You're trying to steal ME piece by piece. You think I won't notice if you do it slowly - but I'm not stupid!
MK: Oh, for crying . . . YOW! What was that for?!?!?
BC: I'm taking pieces of you in retaliation. GNAWGNAWGNAW GNAWGNAWGNAWGNAWGNAWGNAW. Does it hurt yet?
MK: For the love of . . . LET GO!
MK: I didn't DO anything! It's not my fault you're a vindictive furry terrorist with an attitude problem!
BC: You're trying to steal me!
MK: I already OWN you, Smarty Pants!
BC: Own? OWN? OWN?!?!?! No one OWNS The Great Bear Cat. Emphasis on Great and Cat!
MK: Oh, no . . .
BC: Prepare to die . . . HIIIIIIIII-YAH!
BC: You moved!
MK: I'm not going to stand still while you try to ninja chop me.
BC: Coward. Repent! Or you will be condemned to hell!
MK: Where do you get this crap? Because it's not really scary when you just repeat something you heard . . . without understanding what it means or the context . . .
BC: Make my day . . . or I'll be back!
MK: {sigh} I don't own you . . . you are The Great Bear Cat . . . and I fear {yawn} you.
BC: Good. The Great Bear Cat demands treats.
MK: No.
BC: Rats! I hate you! . . . {Bear continues a litany of insults and cliches . . . }
BC: Don't ROLL your eyes at me! {And Bear keeps going . . . until he tires himself out and collapses on the couch, snoring loudly}

On shaking the bag:
BC: MooommmmmMA! Where are my treats?
MK: You aren't getting any.
BC: But you shook the bag!
MK: Let's review the events of the last fifteen minutes . . . after I warned you this would happen if you hid from me in the rosebush again. This time was extra obnoxious because you were on the porch and no where near the bush - until you saw me walking to the porch - and then you bee-lined for the bush on purpose because you knew otherwise I'd make you go inside.
BC: But you shook the bag!
MK: As I brought the bag of treats to the front door to shake them, to get you out of the rosebush, I felt bad about my decision to not give you treats and reconsidered . . . I actually would have given you treats if you'd come right in . . . despite your blatant f - you in hiding in the rosebush . . . but you didn't . . . you ran toward the door and kept going to the other side of the porch just to avoid me grabbing you.
BC: But you shook the bag!
MK: And then what happened when I came to get you . . . after the rosebush and the "fake-out?"
BC: But you SHOOK the BAG!
MK: You had a hissy and batting fit when I picked you up to go inside. Your little temper tantrum wasn't amusing. You actually snorted at me!
MK: Tough.
MK: At the moment, the feeling is mutual.
BC: But . . .
MK: Don't even.
BC: So you're saying no treats?
BC: Perhaps, if I ask later, you'll change your mind? Because you shook the bag.
BC: Oh. I have to go see someone about something . . . under the bed . . . where you can't reach me . . . perhaps when you calm down we can chat about treats . . . ta-ta.
{Bear runs toward the bed}
BC: {right before he runs underneath the bed} We wouldn't have had this problem - BUT YOU SHOOK THE BAG!
MK: And you'd still be in the rosebush!
NOTE: Later that evening, Bear skulked out from under the bed and Momma and Bear snuggled until everything was right with the world again . . . except Bear still didn't get his treats . . . but he grudgingly loved his Momma anyway.

On wearing pants:
BC: Hey! You grabbed my butt!
MK: I'm sorry, Bear. I leaned down to pet you without looking where my hand went.
BC: Hmph. The least you could do is leave a little sumpin' sumpin' in my pants.
MK: Excuse me?
BC: Cash. Money. Moolah. Dough. In my pants. For the show.
MK: You don't wear pants.
BC: Hmmm . . .
MK: I could get you some . . . maybe some pink hot pants?
BC: You mean hot pink pants?
MK: No. Pink hot pants. With maybe a "Hello, Kitty," applique?
BC: That sounds more like a "Bye, Kitty" catastrophe.
MK: No pants?
BC: No pants.
MK: Then how can you wear the pants?
BC: I don't. I just get in your pants.
MK: Ummmm . . .
BC: Tunnel to China! Though the ones with a drawstring are my favorite. Then I steal your pants. But Bear does not WEAR the pants.
MK: I'll remember that . . .
BC: NO! NO! I wear the pants! I wear the pants! I am the master of the pants!
MK: Too late.
BC: Rats!

On complex mathematical operations:
MK: Oh for crying . . . what now?
BC: You brought tons of treats home . . . let's see, 4 bags last Monday, 2 bags last Thursday, and another 2 bags tonight . . . That's EIGHT bags!
MK: And they say cats can't count and add.
BC: This "they" is ignorant: he probably has some kind of superiority complex. And my brain isn't even firing on all cylinders . . . when I see treats my brain goes fuzzy with visions of chickens and fishy and FOOD! Yet I can still perform complex mathematical operations.
MK: Go figure.
BC: I did: And you've brought home 8 bags of treats yet only given me treats two times in the past week!
MK: You seem to forget I give you some wet food everyday as a treat.
BC: I don't know what you're talking about.
MK: Yeah. And you shouldn't have gotten any special treats tonight, with the stunt you pulled. One of these days, I'm just going to get really teed off and leave you in the rosebush instead of using the treat bag to lure you out.
BC: "Teed?" Is that like peed? Zeed? Exed?
MK: You're really pushing it.
BC: Like it's my fault your arm got stuck in the rosebush! I didn't ASK you to stick it back there, did I?
MK: By hiding back there so you didn't have to come inside . . . yeah, you did.
BC: Are you eating my treats? Because I'M certainly NOT.
MK: Oh, Bear.
MK: I'll stop eating your treats when you stop hiding in the rosebush.
MK: I'm SO surprised.

On "crazy kids:" 
BC: You're extraordinarily grumpy.
BC: Did you just GROWL at me?!?!?
MK: Umph. Phm.
BC: You're like a big grumpy bear. Only not cute.
MK: I'm tired.
BC: You took a nap!
MK: I think that was the problem . . . I woke at the wrong time in my sleep cycle and so now I feel out of it.
BC: Do you need help being pushed back in?
MK: What?
BC: You said you feel out of it . . . do you need help being pushed back "in" it?
MK: You ARE skilled at being pushy.
BC: Thank you.
MK: Not exactly a compliment.
BC: Wait . . . did I wake you up?
MK: Umph. Grrrrrr.
BC: No. No. I'm sure that wasn't me that was head bumping you and crawling all over you like a monkey . . . I think I saw the offending cat run that way. Dude! That cat even had the audacity to bite your ear! Crazy kids these days . . . No, no . . . definitely NOT me.

On "The Cat Tree Rules:" 
If you missed the post detailing The Cat Tree Rules (mentioned below) - you can find it {HERE}.

BC: Momma! Where's my blankie? And my cat bed? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY COZY CAT TREE?!?!? It's barren!
MK: Composing the post about your cat tree reminded me I haven't washed that stuff for months.
BC: But there was nothing wrong with my cat tree furnishings! I've even aimed my hairballs well . . . so they hit the walls! You violated The Cat Tree Rules portion of the Geneva Cat Convention!
MK: That stuff was covered in fur.
BC: But, that's MY fur on MY stuff! It should be MY CHOICE what happens to MY fur and MY stuff! I know why you're REALLY doing this . . . You're stealing my fur again! I must find your stash and reclaim what is mine . . .
BC: And my stuff won't smell like me anymore . . . I'll be cat-home-less!
MK: When it all comes out of the dryer, I'll immediately refurnish your cat tree - then just hop right back up, roll around a bit, and you'll be fine.
BC: HOMELESS! You aren't taking this seriously enough! This will require MONTHS of furring to get it back to the proper condition!
BC: WAIT! You washed string, your sheets, and the blankets from the couch too?!?!? NOTHING IN MY HOME SMELLS LIKE ME! Where am I going to sleep?
MK: I didn't clean your litter box. Not that I'm suggesting you sleep there - I'm just saying it still smells like you. And I didn't wash the blankets on my bed.
BC: But I wipe my butt on those blankets! Why would I sleep on them? That's why I only sleep on your sheets or pillows! I don't wipe my butt on any of those other things!
MK: Maybe you should think about that. How'd you like it if I wiped my butt on the blankets where you sleep?
BC: Why do you think I watch you when you go to the bathroom? I have to make sure you take care of business properly - so you can't.
MK: Will you feel better if I give you treats?
BC: No.
BC: How many?
MK: Double the normal amount.
BC: Are you trying to bribe me?
MK: Yes.
MK: I'm surprised you didn't hold out for more treats.
BC: Triple treats! That's what I meant!
MK: Too late.

On cruising for treats: 
BC: Heeeeeey.
MK: Ummmm . . . Hi?!?
BC: I'm just going to sprawl out here on the table next to where you're working, so you can admire my pretty.
MK: Ooookay.
BC: I'm super handsome, don't you think?
MK: I do. But I'm not giving you more treats.
BC: I'm insulted! You think I'm next to you, spending time with you, just because I want treats?!?!?! I'm outraged! Affronted! Slandered!
{Pause while Bear thinks}
BC: Oh. That's inconvenient. Oh, never mind. I'm offended anyway!
MK: So you aren't cruising for treats?
BC: No! I'm just getting up because this table isn't comfortable. I'll take my pretty elsewhere.
MK: If it's uncomfortable, how come you regularly sleep there?
BC: Irrelevant!
MK: Okay.
BC: Treats?
MK: No.
BC: Rats! No pretty for you! Talk to the butt, because the cat isn't listening!
MK: Because THAT'S new . . .
BC: Bite me!
MK: I thought you weren't listening?
BC: Rats!

On "Bear's spot" on the couch: 
{Momma's laying on the couch and Bear is watching her intently from the floor}
MK: Can I help you?
MK: Do you want to snuggle? Come on . . . there's a Bear-sized spot right here!
MK: Am I laying the wrong way? How about this? Come on!
{Bear jumps over Momma on the couch to the back of the couch}
MK: How about if I lay like this? Like that? How about this? No?!?!
{Bear continues staring at Momma intently from the back of the couch}
MK: What other position can I do? Wait a minute! You don't want to cuddle! You just want my spot on the couch! You're waiting for me to get uncomfortable with your staring and move!
BC: {thinking} FINALLY SHE GETS IT! I've been doing this every night for a week and finally she gets it! And humans think they're smart. Phht.
BC: You haven't moved!
MK: This is my couch too.
BC: And the stupidity continues! Oh wait. I said that out loud.
MK: Lovely, Bear.

On Bear, Rasputin, Rumpelstiltskin and fishy:
BC: Ahem. I'd like to file a complaint with management. I'm hungry.
MK: Take a seat and wait over there.
BC: Ahem. I'd like to file a complaint with management.
MK: Bear, I already told you to take a seat . . . I'll be with you in a minute.
BC: Your customer service department SUCKS! I am not Bear! My name is Rumpel . . . RASPUTIN! However, I must meet this cat named Bear. He sounds like a cool cat.
MK: He's a pain in my butt.
BC: I am . . . he is not!
MK: I thought you didn't know him.
BC: I'm just guessing.
MK: Too bad your name is Rasputin . . . because this fishy is for Bear.
BC: I will give it to him.
MK: One of the living things I trust less than a cat, is a cat named Rasputin.
BC: I said Rumpelstiltskin!
MK: Same thing, Rumpelstiltskin.
BC: Who's Rumpelstiltskin? My name is Bear. You don't know your own kitty cat? You should be ashamed!
MK: How convenient.
BC: I thought so. And don't think it's gone unnoticed that you almost gave my fishy to an impostor!

On fan mail:
If you missed the post about Bear losing his internet privileges - you can find it {HERE}.

MK: BEAR! You know you're not allowed on the internet!
BC: I'm just checking my fan mail! My public deserves access to The Great Bear Cat!
MK: Wait! Fan mail? Let me see that!
BC: What? You can't believe that I'm beloved by cat lovers everywhere? See this! "Married blonde wants to meet you tonight!"
MK: Bear, that's spam.
BC: My friends are NOT spam! You don't see me judging your friends.
MK: Oh, yeah? Who's NaughtyXXX?
BC: Do I have to explain EVERYTHING to you? Obviously her name is Naughty and she added the x's to show she's extra, extra, extra naughty! I bet she's figured out how to bat a microwave off a kitchen counter! Ooh! Or maybe she knows how to tunnel to China! I must reply and find out!
MK: No. Off the computer.
BC: You don't want me to have any friends! You want me to die alone!
MK: No, I'm trying to keep you safe from internet predators.
BC: Internet predators? Is that like regular predators but on the internet? Are coyotes, mountain lions and bears surfing the internet to score their next noms? {GASP} That's why the blonde cougar wants to meet me tonight! The internet is an evil, evil place! No wonder you spend so much time on there!
MK: Thanks, Bear.
BC: Well what else would a tyrannical ogre do in her free time?
MK: Thanks again.
BC: Those weren't compliments!
MK: I'm aware.
BC: Ooooh. Sarcasm. I don't see THAT very often.

On a decent set of claws: 
MK: Thank you for waking me up by kneading my back . . . that's so much better than when you put your face a few inches from mine and stare at me until I wake up.
BC: Eh. Whatever.
MK: Though, I did notice your claws need clipping.
BC: No good deed goes unpunished!
MK: No, we get along much better when your claws aren't razor sharp.
BC: You just want me defenseless so you can impose your nefarious intentions on me!
MK: Me? Nefarious intentions? I don't go around whacking stuff off counters and tables, shredding furniture and carpet, knocking stuff in the toilet or trying to steal your stuff.
BC: Eh. Whatever. It's art. You have no appreciation of the creative.
MK: Because it takes creativity to destroy something?
BC: No. Just a decent set of claws.
MK: Exactly.
BC: Rats!

On Momma's age (and dinosaurs): 
BC: Momma? Are you old?
MK: Why do I have a feeling this conversation is going to end badly?
BC: So are you old?
MK: I'm 37.
BC: Whoa! That's old! I'm only 9 1/2! Did you meet . . . {whispering} dinosaurs?
MK: Absolutely!
BC: Cool!
MK: Yeah! For my 5th birthday we went to a dinosaur farm and I got to pet all kinds of dinosaurs!
BC: WOW! They didn't try to eat you?
MK: No. They were nice. One even licked my face.
BC: You must of been really brave.
MK: Obviously.
BC: So what happened to the dinosaurs?
MK: Well, see, everyone thought they were SO CUTE so they kept feeding them all the treats the dinosaurs wanted . . . and they became REALLY BIG dinosaurs.
BC: Wait a minute . . .
MK: And then, when the dinosaurs wanted to cuddle, they took up the ENTIRE bed so there was no place for their humans.
BC: There's something fishy here . . .
MK: And the dinosaurs were obnoxiously overconfident and insisted that they were always right and that they owned everything . . .
BC: Momma! Now I get it! I'm descended from dinosaurs! I always thought I was part pterodactyl!
MK: . . . until the humans got tired of the tyrannical terrorists and ate them for the next meal. See how dinner starts with "din," just like din-osaur? Dinner is basically one big celebration of the yummy dinosaurs.
BC: Whoa!
BC: I HATE YOU! You think you're sooooo funny. But that reminds me . . . can I have some treats?
MK: Sure, I think I have some leftover frozen dinosaur in the freezer.
BC: Ummm . . . no thanks . . . wait a minute . . . is THAT what happened to your last cat?!?!? It went the way of the dinosaurs . . . into your tummy?
MK: Wouldn't you like to know . . .
BC: I KNEW you were trying to kill me!
BC: You're just pulling my paw . . . aren't you? Momma? MomMA! MOMMA?!?!

On listening (or not): 
MK: What are you doing?
BC: What are YOU doing?
MK: I asked you first.
BC: My question takes precedence since it came from me. Obviously.
MK: I'm not destroying anything.
BC: I don't know anything about destroying anything. I do, however, know about some pretty special masterpieces I've completed recently. I expect to be paid.
MK: Not likely.
BC: I accept cat treats, wet food, ear rubs, back scratches, and the occasional snuggle for payment.
MK: You're not listening.
BC: Because you have nothing worthwhile that I want to hear.
MK: You're grounded.
BC: I don't hear anything that applies to me.
MK: I'm taking a nap.
BC: That applies.
MK: If you wake me up by sitting two inches in front of my face and staring at me again, I might lose it. That seriously freaks me out.
BC: Not applicable. Doesn't sound like my problem.
MK: I need to write a book about keeping one's sanity when sharing one's home with a cat.
BC: Bear does not share. All Bear's. And you don't know anything about the subject. If a human keeps her sanity, the cat is not doing his job!

On Bear's cricket: 
MK: {looking around and listening} There's a cricket in here!
BC: Duh! Why do you think I haven't been snuggling with you on the couch?
MK: I'll find him! Wait . . . is he right next to where you're sitting . . . there's a black dot . . . OOP . . . that was him.
BC: {rolling his eyes} This show where it takes you 30 minutes to catch up with what I knew 29 minutes and 49 seconds ago is BOR-RING.
MK: I'm going to get the little booger.
BC: Wait! NOOOOOOO! That's MY cricket! I found him . . . and I've kept him in my sight! He's MY cricket!
MK: You're just watching him. If you're not going to make a cricket snack out of him, I want him out so his cricketing doesn't bother me all night.
BC: I'm biding my time! Timing is key! And cricketing is not a word!
MK: Is too.
BC: Is NOT! Not in the way you used it! Hey! That's my cricket! Let him out of there!
MK: I'm taking him outside.
BC: THAT'S MY CRICKET! I demand you stop this minute!
MK: Yow! You just HAD to bite my ankle, right?
BC: THAT'S MY CRICKET! Oh hell, I might as well sneak outside with you . . .
MK: Bear! Get back here! It's dark! Get out of that bush! Don't make me come in there!
BC: Nah-nah-nah-nah-boo-boo, you can't catch . . . HEY! PUT ME DOWN! HHHHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!! I hate you! Put me down! I'll file a complaint! I'll sue you! Harassment! Assault! Make me go inside against my will! You won't get away with this! I will make you pay!
{The front door closes and Momma Kat is huffing and puffing after the affair of getting the cricket out and the cat in.}
BC: I'm going to my food bowl. Don't follow me.
MK: Funny. You wouldn't have food laid out for you if you were outside. You'd have to hunt for yourself.
BC: I can't HEAR you!
{Pause while Momma mumbles to herself}
BC: Oh, wow. Those are some CHOICE words I've never heard before . . . I'm going to write those down!

On the spider: 
BC: What are you doing? You're making a bunch of noises and moving everything around!
MK: I saw a spider.
BC: SPIDEY! I'm here, Momma! I'll find him! I'll show him who's boss! Move that stuff quicker! We don't want him to get away!
MK: That was what I was afraid of . . . it looked like a nasty spider so I was trying to put it outside.
BC: Nasty spider. Phht. I can take him!
MK: Not if he's a brown recluse.
BC: You want to throw a recluse out of the house? Isn't that cruel?
MK: He's not actually a recluse, a brown recluse is a venomous spider and he could bite you and make you sick.
BC: My fangs are bigger than his!
MK: This is what I was afraid of.
BC: Where is he? I'll show him! There's no reason to be afraid, Momma! I'm here!
MK: You know what? I don't think I actually saw a spider.
BC: What do you mean?
MK: I just THOUGHT I saw a spider . . . it was err . . . just a shadow. YES! A shadow.
BC: Get my hopes up . . . this is an outrage! Can't tell the difference between a spider and a shadow . . . humans!
BC: {YAWN} Nap time! Wake me up if you find a real spider.
MK: Sure.

On nodding off to kitty dreams: 
BC: You laid on me!
MK: I'm sorry, Bear. You've never been in bed before I've gotten there so I just flopped down without realizing you were already here.
BC: You laid on me!
MK: The room was dark! I had every reason to believe you weren't here!
BC: Except I was!
MK: I'm sorry!!!
BC: I was nodding off to fishy, whole chicken, bows, world domination, and skull & bones land when you so rudely attempted to catcake me!
MK: If it makes you feel better, you scared the heck out of me.
BC: Serves you right! But no.
BC: How much heck?
MK: You almost gave me a heart attack and now I'm wide awake and probably won't be able to sleep.
BC: A little better. And if you're going to toss and turn, the least could do is leave my bed!
MK: My . . . oh, never mind.

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