Monday, December 28, 2015

"Conversations" With Bear Cat: Part 15

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: Bear's Mr. Tough Pants alter-ego {HERE}, Bear's Christmas list {HERE} and how Bear and Momma spend Christmas Eve {HERE}.  

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

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

BC: Bear Cat
MK: Momma Kat

On the bottle cap:
MK: Where the heck is the cap? I opened the bottle RIGHT HERE! There's no place else it could be!
BC: Ummm . . . Momma?
MK: I don't want to hear anything from the peanut gallery!
BC: Well . . . but . . .
MK: I must be losing my mind!
BC: You lost two things in the last few minutes?
{Momma narrows her eyes at Bear}
BC: What?!?! No! I'm being persecuted! Look at the bottle!
MK: Oh. The cap was already on the bottle. We'll never speak of this again.
BC: I don't know about that . . . I have a pretty long memory! And you accuse me of A LOT of stuff!
MK: 99% of which you actually do.
BC: Yes, but that 1% will always cause you to doubt the rest.
MK: I saw you fall out of the window yesterday . . . after the bird landed on the window sill and squawked at you.
BC: I was hungry! I did that on purpose!
BC: Deal.

On mishaps:

MK: Ow.
BC: Did you just fall out of your desk chair?
BC: Giggle, giggle, giggle, SNORT, giggle, giggle, giggle.
MK: Yes. Haha.
BC: HOW does THAT happen?
MK: Probably the same way you fall off the back of the couch, or skitter off the table, or fall out of your cat tree.
BC: But I don't do those things! My balance and jumping skills are finely honed . . . and nothing startles me!
MK: Let's see . . . there was last night . . .
BC: Never mind!
MK: And then earlier this week . . .

On tasty reindeer (part 2 - Christmas day):
*** Part 1 can be found in our post: 
Christmas: Momma Kat and Her Bear Cat Style.  ***
BC: Can I sing the rest of my tasty reindeer song now? Last night you told me I could finish singing it to you today.
MK: You remembered that? Umm . . . I guess.
BC: Do you recall, the tastiest reindeer of all . . .
Rudolph, the tasty reindeer
had very juicy loins.
And if you ever saw him,
my watering mouth yours would join.
All of the other reindeer
used to laugh and call him fat.
They always told poor Rudolph
He'd make a great meal for any cat.
Then one foggy Christmas Eve
Santa came to say:
"Rudolph, I'm short of tasty chickens,
won't you help out so all cats have lickins'?"
Then all the reindeer loved him
as they shouted out with glee,
Rudolph the tasty reindeer,
No reindeer is tastier than he!

MK: Oh . . . my . . . that was . . . err . . . interesting.
BC: I'm glad you liked it!
MK: But if you eat Rudolph, Santa won't be able to bring you any tasty chickens next year!

BC: I'M GETTING TASTY CHICKENS?!?!? OH HAPPY DAY! This is the BEST day of my life! Let's open presents NOW! I want my tasty chickens! We shouldn't make the tasty chickens wait!
MK: Oh no.

BC: Tast-y chick-ens! Tast-y chick-ens! Bear Cat is a comin' for you! And you! And you! Times fifty!
BC: Waaaaait . . . I asked for fifty tasty whole chickens . . . and there are only two tiny presents for me!

MK: Well, ummm . . . about that . . .
MK: You do?
BC: You gave me gift certificates to the chicken factory so I can pick out my own!
MK: Oh, my head. Bear, there are no tasty chickens.
BC: So you got me non-tasty chickens on clearance?
MK: Well, no, not exactly.
BC: {narrowing his eyes at Momma} So what did you get me EXACTLY?
{Pause for Bear to rip open his presents}
MK: You're welcome!
BC: I didn't thank you!

BC: Oh. You were being sarcastic.
{Pause as Bear looks over the scene}
BC: Ooooooh! Wrapping paper! And bows! Happy day! Thank you for my presents!
BC: {to the bows) HI-YAH! That'll show you who's the boss! {RRRRRRRRRRIIIP!}
MK: The wrapping paper and bows weren't your presents . . . you never opened the boxes! Oh, never mind. Enjoy yourself, Bear.


On tasty reindeer (part 3 - Christmas evening):
BC: Momma! Momma! I caught a tasty reindeer! Frisky sucker! But I'm tougher than any reindeer!

MK: No, Bear. That's my foot. Maybe you could stop gnawing on it?
BC: You have juicy loins in your foot?
MK: Apparently. You didn't wonder why it didn't have antlers or fur?

BC: I've never seen a reindeer in real life . . . I just assumed anything running around the house on Christmas would be a reindeer. Though I did think it was kind of chunky, even for a juicy reindeer. And I saw its friend . . . but it moved quickly when I sank my teeth into the first one. Did you hear how he begged for his life!?!?!
MK: No, that was ME, crying out in pain.

BC: I'm a powerhouse of raw masculine power . . . in a tiny, but cute, package!
BC: Maybe the reindeer factory had a shortage this year.
MK: Bear, we've talked about animal factories.

BC: So you finally admit they exist!
MK: Never mind.

BC: I KNEW it! Where's the nearest chicken factory? Because let's see {looking at his list} . . . I didn't get: one, two, three . . . WOW! I didn't get any of the fifty tasty whole chickens I asked for!
MK: Bear, a list is just a "wish" list . . . not a mandatory thing.

BC: Do you think if I sue Santa for false advertising I can request damages in tasty reindeer?
MK: Oh, Bear. Really! Can you stop gnawing on my foot?!?! I'm pretty sure it's not going to turn into a reindeer no matter how long you gnaw on it.

BC: Oh, right. Your foot is tasty.
MK: Thank you . . . I think . . . no, that's just weird.
*** For more information on Bear's Christmas list and assumptions about animal factories, see Bear Lobbies For His Christmas List***

On Bear's "brutality:"
MK: Holy hell, Bear! You're brutal!

BC: Thank you for noticing! Was it the take-down of my mousie that led to that conclusion? Maybe my body slam of the bug? Or my ripping of the wrapping paper? Maybe that other thing in the kitchen?
MK: You mean whatever you were after when you knocked the jar off the counter?

BC: What do you mean by "whatever you were after?" That jar's had it out for me since you brought it home!

BC: So which of my tough campaigns are you referring to?
MK: Not exactly what I meant.
BC: What EXACTLY did you mean?
MK: The beats you just dropped in your litter box.
BC: SEE! I told you I could be a cat rapper! We'd just make sure not to shorten it to "crapper."
MK: "Crapper" actually might be more appropriate.
BC: I don't make fun of your bathroom habits!
MK: No, you just sit there with that judgmental stare.
BC: It's called "tact."
MK: No. It's called, "I won't live if you close me out of the bathroom and I miss all the cool things you do in there."
BC: You don't do any cool things, period . . . much less in the bathroom.
MK: Exactly!
BC: But you never know . . . I wouldn't want to miss out!

On Momma's "mouse" problems:

BC: I didn't do it!
MK: I hate this mouse! I'm about to throw it against the wall!

BC: So you didn't find . . .
BC: You're having MOUSE problems?
MK: YES! This piece of {BLEEP} is driving me nuts!

BC: May I suggest you let me deal with it?
MK: You can't . . . oh. No, not that kind of mouse.

MK: HEY! Wait! Bring that back here! That's not a string! Or your type of mouse! I need that for my computer! BEAR!

MK: BEAR?!?! BEAR!?!?

BC: {walking back into the room} I took care of it for you.
MK: Yes, I see that.

BC: Don't hate me because of my mouser skills.
MK: Never. Thank goodness I have a backup mouse . . . I have a feeling I'll never see the other one again.
BC: Another mouse? WHERE? I'm take him DOWN! The last one had a really long tail . . . but don't worry, I GOT IT!
MK: No. I was wrong! There's no mouse . . .

MK: Oh, no.
BC: This one's got a bit of a right hook.
MK: No, I'm pretty sure that was the wall you felt. You can't rhino charge something that small . . . after you knocked it on the floor, there was nothing to stop your forward momentum.

BC: Oh! So YOU'RE telling ME how to mouse? After I took care of TWO mice for you in the span of a few minutes? A "THANK YOU!" would suffice.
MK: Thank you. Err . . . yeah.

On plastic bag kitty trauma drama:
***In case you missed the background . . .
Years ago, Bear was nosing through the plastic bags of groceries sitting on the kitchen floor (stretching his neck out/I'm not sure about this), was startled (still not sure by what: something shifting in the bag, me closing the refrigerator?), and pulled back quickly. He got caught in the handle of the bag, which caused him to pull harder - and the contents flew all over the kitchen as the bag broke, while the plastic bag handle was still caught around Bear's body. Of course, he took off and flopped around and was very freaked out; it took a few minutes for him to calm down enough to let me close to him so I could fix the situation. Poor, poor Bear. ***
MK: Seriously, Bear?
BC: What's your problem, lady? Emphasis on the "your."
MK: You're staring at me as I go through the bag of plastic bags to find the size bag I need.
BC: Which hangs from the pantry door . . .
MK: So you want to be sure to be there if I get the treats out. Even though I haven't opened the door and the plastic bags are rustling.
MK: Obviously. But you're usually leary of plastic bags.

BC: I'm not scared of ANYTHING! Especially plastic ba . . .
BC: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Stay away from me you evil spirit! HELP! Momma's trying to kill me with the plastic bag! I'm about to breathe my last! Oh woe!
MK: SEE?!? I didn't even do that on purpose!

BC: {Sigh} It was a good life, mostly. {Sigh} Except for the fake food Momma fed me, {sigh} and the lack of adequate treats, {sigh} and not being allowed to eat all the grass I want. Bye, cozy cat tree . . . bye, litter box . . . bye, mousie and string . . . bye, food bowl . . . you all served me well! {SIGH}.

BC: I hate you! I did all that on purpose just to . . . err . . . mock you . . . err . . . mocking me! I am not scared of anything!
{Momma rustles a bag putting the bags back in the bigger bag}

On Bear "not doing it:"

BC: I didn't do it!
MK: I'm sitting here and WATCHING you rip up the back of the chair. You totally did . . . are . . . WHATEVER!

BC: I need to sharpen my claws since you clipped them yesterday.
MK: You know what? If you'd done it once, I'd have thought, "Oh, he's sharpening his claws" or "oh, he's getting his crazies out." But this is the SIXTH place on the chair you've clawed in the last three minutes: starting with the back, then both sides, then the front, then the back again, and then you reached through the side arm of the desk chair to claw my pants . . . on BOTH sides. You're looking for trouble.

BC: I don't know what you're talking about.
MK: Really? Because each time I stared at you and you had that defiant look in your eyes and stared right back . . . as you sped up the ripping.

BC: I can't read your mind. You should have told me to stop.
MK: Would that really make any difference?

BC: No. I ignore most of the things you say . . . except for "treats!"
{Pause while Momma glares at Bear}

BC: I didn't rip up your chair.

BC: WHAT.EV.ER. I'm a sweet, innocent kitty cat. I'm being persecuted!
MK: It's not persecution when you actually DO, and I SEE EXACTLY, what I'm accusing you of.

BC: Then don't look! Then you'd have no problem!

On enthusiasm:
BC: Momma! You're HOME! Happy . . . waaaaaaaait!

BC: Oooooh! Food! Two GIANT bags of food! Giant bags bigger than ME! And TWO of them! Food, food, FOOD!
MK: I thought kibble wasn't real food?

BC: That's kibble?
MK: You know it is.

BC: RATS! Some times my enthusiasm gets the best of me and makes me admit things I don't want to concede.
MK: One of the many reasons I love you, Bear.

BC: Yeah, you love me SOOOOO much that you feed me fake food!
MK: And I love your ability to pretend that you didn't admit to something that you regret admitting to. Along with your little act of, "I'm offended! You mistreat me! You're so mean!" . . . Even though we both know that's crap and that you're just trying to cover up what you admitted in your overwhelming enthusiasm.

BC: Oh, yeah?
BC: Enthusiasm THIS!
{Bear turns around for the perfect butt shot - with a dramatic tail wave}
BC: Talk to the butt, because the cat ain't listening! Unless you open one of the bags of food . . . I ALWAYS hear food.

On Momma's "baby:"
{Momma walks into the room}

BC: {while strutting across the room} Meoooow!
MK: There's my HANDSOME boy!
MK: {picking Bear up} How's my baby?
BC: No, no, NO! I'm not a baby! PUT ME DOWN!
MK: Awww . . . I love my Bear! {giving Bear some quality ear rubs}
BC: PUT ME . . . purrrrrrrr . . . DOWN! SNORT {sigh}. PURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR. NOT . . . purrrrrr . . . a . . . purr . . . baby! PURRRRRRRRRRRRR.
{Sigh as Bear becomes a ragdoll in Momma's arms}.
MK: I love you, Bear.
BC: ARRRRGGGGGG! Purrrrrr . . . The horrors we cats have to put up with! Purrrr . . .The hazards of being irresistibly cute! PURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR. I DEMAND . . . purrrrr . . . a . . . purrrr . . . raise or I'll . . . purrrr . . . go . . . purr . . . on strike! PURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR {sigh}. PURRRRRRRR.

On dreaming correctly:
MK: {softly} Bear . . .

BC: I'm right here, Momma! Open your eyes!
{Bear whacks Momma's face with his paws until she wakes up}
MK: Wha?

BC: You called my name, I'm here!
MK: I dreamed about you . . .

BC: In your dream, was I lovable, rascally, and fierce?
MK: You're like that in real life.

BC: I know. I wanted to make sure you were dreaming about me correctly.
MK: Yes, you were lovable, rascally, and fierce.

BC: That is all. You're dismissed.
MK: Dismissed? It's my . . . oh, never mind.

BC: Wise choice. The Great Bear Cat does not appreciate dissension.
{Bear stretches out over the entire bed}
MK: I guess I'm getting up now.

BC: Can I have my fishy now?
MK: No.
BC: Grumpy pants. Leave me to my beauty rest.

On looking for trouble:
BC: La de da de da . . . do da do da . . . la de da . . .

MK: Are you looking for trouble?
BC: I don't know what you're talking about!
MK: Usually, when you walk around casually like that, you're just looking for something to break or some way to annoy me.
BC: You don't know everything!
MK: Oh, yeah? So what are you doing?
BC: I have the right against self-incrimination!
MK: Okay. But by admitting that if you talk, you'll incriminate yourself, is incriminating.
BC: It's a free country! I can stroll around my own house any time I want! You treat me like a common criminal!
MK: Riiiiiiiiight. Let's see how long it takes before you do something to "get" me.

BC: You ruin everything! The best part is the element of surprise!
MK: Maybe you're just too predictable?

BC: I hate you!
MK: It's all my fault that I pay attention to you to detect your patterns! Silly and stupid me!

BC: You cramp my style! I'm a grown male cat! I don't NEED you! I get to be my own cat!
BC: Wait! WHAT!?!?! No! Ear rubs are not allowed! I hate you! You oppress my natural catness! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
MK: I love you, Mr. Tough Pants.

*** Want more Mr. Tough Pants? See The Many Faces of Mr. Tough Pants. ***

On Bear's horrible, no good, very bad day:
MK: Thank you for not making it hard this time.

BC: What are you talking about?
MK: Usually, when I come to nab you to brush your teeth, you high-tail it to your nearest hidey-hole and scrunch up as far back as you can so I can't reach you.

BC: You can't brush my teeth!
MK: Imma 'bout to.

BC: No, no, NO! You can't brush my teeth without my toothbrush!
MK: DUH! Right here! Usually you manage to figure it out when I'm holding it behind my back.

MK: OOOOOOOOkaaaaaaaaaaaaay.

BC: I stole the wrong toothbrush! I was wondering why you'd left my toothbrush out in the bathroom . . . but I stole YOUR toothbrush! Dang it! O kitty miseries!
MK: Bear! Our toothbrushes look COMPLETELY different and are stored in different places.

MK: Is my toothbrush floating in the toilet?

BC: Not anymore!
MK: How'd you get it out?

BC: The same way I get my toys out of my water bowl!
MK: Ew. Double ew. Triple ew. Where's my toothbrush?

BC: If I tell you, will you not brush my teeth?
MK: No. I've got plenty of extras. And I'm seriously considering giving you a bath now too . . .

BC: This is a horrible, no good, VERY BAD day!
*** How does Bear get his micey out of his water bowl? ***

Momma's horrible, no good, very bad morning:

BC: DO you MIND?
MK: I'm so sorry, Bear! Usually when you come out from sleeping in one of the bedrooms, you make your presence known by sitting on the table next to where I work because you want attention.
BC: You tried to catcake me!
MK: I'm sorry, Bear. I didn't know you were on the floor next to my chair - and I didn't check before I got up.

BC: Hmph.
MK: I think we scared each other! You're poofed up.

BC: My LIFE was in danger! What's it to you?
MK: I got up, and all of a sudden the floor came up on me and exploded.

BC: It wasn't the floor! It was me! You almost stepped on me!
MK: I'm a bad, bad Momma.

BC: YES, you are!
{Momma goes to the bathroom, washes her hands and turns around to leave the bathroom}

BC: TWO times in THREE minutes!
MK: I didn't hear you come in behind me! You were standing RIGHT behind me! I'm sorry!

BC: Are you ever in here without me?
MK: Well, no. But I wasn't here that long and you usually wait a few minutes.

BC: YOU'RE TRYING TO KILL ME! And make it MY fault!
MK: I really am sorry Bear.

BC: Hmph.
MK: Maybe I'm having a bad morning . . . I haven't been this unaware of your presence since right after I adopted you and I wasn't used to a cat following inches behind me at all times. Or I'm not awake yet.

MK: I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'M SORRY!

BC: Hmph.
MK: Ear rubs?
BC: No!
BC: Okay.
MK: I love you, Bear.
BC: Hmph.

On the other hand:

MK: I love you, Bear.

BC: Duh! I'm the Bear . . . you'd have to be stupid NOT to love me. Now you, on the other hand . . .
BC: Oooh! Treats! HAPPY DAY! Yummy in my tummy! Treats. Treats! TREATS! I love you, Momma! You're the BEST Momma EVER!
MK: The other hand, huh?
BC: Nomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnom.
BC: The other hand is the one that feeds me! I love fishy bribes! And you. Most of the time. Can I have more treats?

On Bear's bib (and Momma's insults):
MK: I love your bib!

BC: Excuse me?
MK: Your bib! That tuft of white-ish fur from below your chin to your front legs . . . that you puff out in pride when you want me to admire you.

BC: I don't need a bib! YOU need a bib!
MK: No, that's . . . what do you mean I need a bib?

BC: I saw you with yogurt all over your face last night.
MK: That was an accident! My spoon flicked from the container!

BC: And the spaghetti sauce . . . in your HAIR . . .
MK: BEAR! I'm crying uncle! Uncle! You win!

BC: OH. So now we're bringing uncles into this? YOUR uncle's a monkey's uncle! What do you have to say to that?
MK: I was trying to give you a compliment!

BC: By telling me I need a bib and insulting my uncle?

BC: Do I HAVE an uncle?
MK: I have no idea.

BC: Yeah, well, yours isn't so great either!
MK: Never mind. Never MIND. NEVER MIND!

BC: Hmph. You with no mind. You've got THAT right.
MK: Oh, brother . . .


BC: Do I have a brother?
MK: I'm not falling for that again.
BC: HEY! YOU'RE the one that's insulting ME!
MK: Okay, Bear.

MK: Can't think of how to argue with that?

On Momma's favorite part of the day:
MK: Sooooooo adorable, I can hardly stand it!
BC: Excuse me?
MK: You're adorable . . . I can't resist . . . I love you, Bear!

BC: Adorable? ADORABLE? I'm a trained killer!
MK: Killer, huh? What have you killed exactly?

BC: Spid . . . no, err . . . crick . . . no, umm . . . hmm . . . Lots of things . . . if I told you . . . I'd have to . . . err . . . kill you! Yeah! I'd have to kill you!
MK: Your little coo right before you purr is adorable!

BC: What?
MK: When we snuggle, and I haven't petted you for 15 minutes or more, and I give you an ear rub, you coo once, then a more elongated coo and then you purr.

BC: Do you have nothing better to do with your life?
MK: No . . . nothing better. It's my favorite part of the day.
BC: Oh.
BC: But I'm still a killer! Finely trained!
BC: And ruthless!
{Pause - Momma gives Bear an ear rub, then another . . . }
MK: BEST part of my day.

BC: PURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR . . . I'll . . . purr . . . KILL . . . something . . . purrr . . . later . . . or just stay . . . purr . . . here and snuggle with you . . . purr . . . PURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR {sigh}.

Wednesday, December 23, 2015

Christmas: Momma Kat and Her Bear Cat Style

What do Bear Cat and Momma Kat do on Christmas Eve? We debate types of trees and Bear's presents, we play dreidel, Bear sings a few unique songs (Rudolph The Tasty Reindeer!?!?!), and we fall asleep to "The Night Before Christmas." Sure it sounds sappy, but every night feels like Christmas Eve when you have a kitty to cuddle with all snug in your bed :) Ten years after I adopted the homeless kitten who won my heart, I still haven't forgotten just what a gift he is to me everyday: he truly is exceptional in countless ways, and I can't imagine my life without our adventures.

If you missed the post including Bear's Christmas list, you can find it here: Bear Lobbies For His Christmas List.

BC: Bear Cat
MK: Momma Kat

BC: How are we going to celebrate Christmas?

MK: I don't know. We already had a bow party.

BC: That was for your birthday!
MK: Funny. You played . . . I cleaned up.
BC: How's that any different from any other day then?
MK: Did you have something in mind?
BC: Are you going to get a tree?
MK: I hadn't planned on it . . . I know better. And it's kind of late.
BC: I want a tree!
MK: Okay.
BC: But you have to get one with a hammock this time!
MK: Wait, what?
BC: Last time you bought a tree there was no hammock! How can a cat enjoy a Christmas tree if there is no hammock?
MK: Bear, a CAT tree is different than a CHRISTMAS tree.
BC: I always forget, you don't know anything!
MK: Christmas trees have leaves and branches . . . 
BC: What?
MK: They're coniferous and evergreen.
BC: Is that like an attitude? Because if a tree looks at me funny - even a Christmas tree with a hammock - I'll take that sucker DOWN!
MK: This is why we don't have a Christmas tree. Well, that, and the lights.
BC: Lights?
MK: They come on a string and you can't resist anything that looks like string.
BC: How would you know? All your cords are taped to the walls!
BC: Oh.
BC: You don't trust me! You treat me like I can't handle access to cords!
BC: Oh. Is this about the printer cord? And the modem cord? And WOO-EE!, that PHONE cord! And . . .
BC: Rats! You ruin all my fun!
MK: It wouldn't be very fun if you chewed far enough through the cord to electrocute yourself.
BC: I just drag it around for awhile! I don't CHEW. CHEW toys are for dogs.
MK: Oh, really? Because you've CHEWED my arm several times. In fact, I've made the joke that I'm your chew toy many, many times.
BC: I stand falsely accused!

MK: I'm waiting.
BC: Rats! I REALLY hate that camera. I think I'll give MYSELF a present and drop it in my water bowl. Or the toilet. Or both.
BC: Besides, you said nothing about me shocks you anymore. And I'd have to say, I can't be shocked anymore either!
MK: What's that have to do with chewing cords and electro . . . 
MK: "Shocked," as in surprised, is very different from "shocked," as in electrocution. Electrocution can kill you.
BC: YOU could kill me. I know you plot against me . . . you're just waiting for the perfect time.
MK: My "plotting" involves clipping your claws, brushing your teeth, and taking you to the vet: all of which I do for your health.
BC: You always act like you know everything! I'm a cat! By definition, I'm smart . . . and stuff!
MK: Tell me more about this, "and stuff."
BC: So other people don't hang ornaments on their cat trees?
MK: No. They use the big green tree for ornaments.
BC: I want ornaments hanging off my tree, to bat around!
MK: Because things hanging in front of your face are the worst offenders when it comes to disrespecting you, right?
BC: SEE! You understand!
MK: And how long do hanging things last around you?
BC: Rats!
MK: Do you want to play with my dreidel?
BC: Is this part of your iniquities?
MK: What? NO! First, I don't HAVE any iniquities. And second, a dreidel is a top-like thing you spin around in a Jewish game for Hanukkah. Everyone has pieces they put in or take out of the pot in the center according to how the dreidel falls.
BC: We're not Jewish.
MK: Yes, I know that. But I went to a Jewish preschool and my parents thought I'd like a dreidel so I got one in my stocking all those years ago.
BC: They couldn't have gotten you a nice dinosaur?
MK: Hilarious. 
BC: Are dreidels fun to play with?
MK: You mean, "Will it fit in my secret stolen stash spot?" Yes.
BC: Then whip it out and let's have some fun! Can we play for cat treats? Of course, I get to eat your stash too . . .
BC: Wait! No camera! This is just a photo op for the blog! I want no part of this! You tricked me! I've been SCREWED!
{Bear whacks the dreidel off the chair he's sitting on}
BC: That was kind of fun . . . 
BC: But, no! You're worse than the paparazzi! Fine? You insist? I'm going to sit here and look really grumpy so I ruin the pictures!

MK: So much for the Christmas spirit.
BC: You said the dreidel was Jewish!
MK: At least I don't try to put antlers on you or dress you up for Christmas pictures.
BC: I'm a cat! If cats were meant to have antlers, God would have given them to us! And my fur is more beautiful than any of your clothes!
MK: So much for celebrating.
BC: What, you want to partake of your iniquities? Listen to hideous music and dance absurdly? Is THAT a holiday?
MK: Never mind.
BC: So where are you going to put my presents, if we don't have a Christmas tree?
MK: Presents?
BC: Don't roll your eyes at me, OLD lady!
MK: Bear, I give you presents all the time.
BC: So that's a reason to stiff me on Christmas?
MK: Would you prefer a bunch of presents on Christmas, or a new present every month?
BC: On the installment plan, it would take fifty months to finally get all my tasty whole chickens! That's almost a year!
MK: Actually . . . never mind. A year. But you aren't getting any chickens.
BC: Grinch! Hopefully, Santa's not so humbuggy!
MK: Would you like to sing some Christmas songs?
BC: Are you singing?
MK: I guess not.
BC: Can I do MY versions?
MK: Sure.
BC: Here goes . . . la, la, la, la, la, la . . . . 
O Come All Ye Felines
Joyful and cantankerous,
O come ye, O come ye to see the Bear.
Come and behold him,
Born the King of the Formidable;
O come, let us adore him,
O come, let us adore him,
O come, let us adore him,
Bear Cat, the Great.
BC: And here's another one:
Jingle mouse, jingle mouse,
Bear's about to pounce!
Oh what fun
it is to play
In a BIG ole' pile of bows!
Dashing through wrapping paper,
In a cat-play wonderland
O'er the bows I go,
Little butt wiggles all the way.
I finally caught my mouse
showing my prowess
What fun it is to pounce and sing
A mousing song tonight.
Jingle mouse, jingle mouse,
Bear's about to pounce!
Oh what fun
it is to play
In a BIG ole' pile of bows!
MK: Wow. I'm speechless. That was . . . unique. 
BC: A little applause wouldn't hurt!
{Momma claps for Bear, as he takes a little bow}.
MK: Umm . . . Bear, the AUDIENCE is supposed to call for an encore.
BC: Whatever.
Rudolph, the tasty reindeer,
Had a very juicy . . . 
MK: OKAY! That's enough.
BC: But I didn't get to the best part where I EAT the tasty reindeer!
MK: You can finish tomorrow . . . no violence before bed. 
MK: It's getting late. Do you want to snuggle in bed and hear a Christmas story?
BC: Does it have whole chickens in it?
MK: No. But there are reindeer.
BC: Are they tasty reindeer? Because I'll take fifty tasty reindeer instead of fifty tasty whole chickens!
MK: You're always thinking with your belly. Not that kind of reindeer, Bear . . . SANTA'S reindeer.
BC: {Yawn} Okay.
MK: I love you, Bear.
BC: I love you, Momma. Even if you don't get me tasty whole chickens. 
MK: 'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through Momma Kat's house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even Bear's mouse;
The stockings were hung from Bear's cat tree with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
Bear Cat was nestled all snug in the bed; 
While visions of whole chickens danced in his head; 
And Momma in her cat nightgown, snuggled right next to Bear, 
She'd just settled her brain without so much as a care,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
Bear sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window he flew, all poofed up,
Climbed through the blinds and . . .
{Momma looks down to see Bear sleeping soundly, all snuggled up to her, just like in the story . . . and she smiles as she turns out the light}.

Bear Cat and Momma Kat appreciate all our readers - and wish all of you the best for the Holidays! Thank you for being a part of our lives. Happy Holidays to all, and to all a good night!

Thursday, December 17, 2015

The Many Faces of Mr. Tough Pants

One of the pleasures of sharing my life with Bear is that interspersed with his loving and affectionate nature are moments of sheer cat-itude. If I were to guess, he feels the need to assert his independence and prove that no matter how loving he is, he's his own cat. One of my favorite examples: I lay down on the couch where we usually snuggle, I call "Bear!" and he comes tearing into the room . . . until he remembers himself about a foot away from the couch - where he stops abruptly, and his eager face and raised tail turns to a look of nonchalance. He might groom himself a bit . . . look out the window . . . sniff around the front door . . . and in his own time, meander back to where I'm laying on the couch to stare at me for a few minutes before he hops up. You clearly SEE the change in expression . . . from "Oh, I love my Momma! Snuggle time!" to "Wait! I'm a cat! I don't NEED you!" 

Another thing I love about Bear is that his enthusiasm and affectionate personality sometimes conflict with his cat-itude. When Bear acts tough, I can usually pick him up and start petting him . . . and I can tell he's indignant and fighting the purr . . . and again, I see his expressions changing in seconds from love to "leave me alone" and back again . . . but eventually, he'll give in. For all his superficial haughtiness and standoffishness, at heart, he's really a big furry sweetheart. 

And this doesn't even include all the Mr. Tough Pants episodes when he TRIES to provoke a reaction (escaping into the rain and standing there defiantly, DARING me to come get him . . . or when he's about to do something he knows he's not supposed to do, is slightly out of my reach, makes sure I'm watching, and then stares at me defiantly as he sticks his paw in the toaster - or tears up carpet/furniture, etc).

In contrast to these Mr. Tough Pants episodes, when Bear acts tough toward me, around other people or animals, he's terrified to the point of his tail being tucked firmly up against his belly. While I wish he wasn't afraid of everything, I do find it slightly amusing that he can be Mr. Tough Pants toward me because he knows I'm not going to hurt him - while his courage fails him when he's not sure about the result.

Another aspect of Mr. Tough Pants? I'm fascinated by the inner life of cats . . . watching Bear, I assume there's a lot going on in there . . . constant calculation and dialogue with himself. Speculating on this inner life is what many of my conversations with Bear are based on. For instance, in the dialogue below, Bear challenges one of his toys - as if it were really alive and had the power to destroy him. Some times I wonder if he's just bored, so he creates these scenarios where he MUST teach his toys a lesson . . . or if, in his feline brain of constant slights and mistreatments, he really BELIEVES his mousie (or other toy) is giving him dirty looks.

In the end, I love Bear dearly . . . and while I don't lose my temper, there are times when Mr. Tough Pants leaves me feeling frustrated . . . at least for a moment or two (like in the second conversation - which happened exactly as described).

BC: Bear Cat
MK: Momma Kat

Mr. Tough Pants vs. The Teddy Bear (and everything else)
"The Scene"

BC: This is your last chance . . . REPENT, you nasty SINNER!
MK: What the . . . ?
MK: Oh, no. Not again . . .
BC: You filthy {BLEEP}! Stop staring at me with that evil gleam in your eyes! I will {BLEEP}ing KILL YOU!
MK: Umm . . . Bear?
BC: This has nothing to do with you . . . stay out of it, woman!
MK: But . . .
BC: The time for importunity and supplications has expired!
MK: . . . the kitchen floor . . .
BC: SILENCE! The teddy bear's fate has been decided by powers much greater than you!
BC: Rats! The kitchen floor is slippery! This is YOUR fault, woman! Why did you not warn me about the perils of the kitchen floor?
MK: I tried to . . . even though you really should remember from last time . . . you can't sprint/pounce on the linoleum and stop on a dime . . . hence you sliding and meeting the wall.
BC: The meeting did NOT go well!
MK: I wouldn't think so. You're all poofed up! Are you okay?
BC: OF COURSE! Do I look like a human weakling?
MK: No . . .
BC: Prepare to die!
MK: WHAT? How's this my fault?!?!
BC: That's right! I see the FEAR in your eyes!

BC: OOF! RATS! I HATE this floor! You devised an evil plot to interfere with my murderous nature! You won't get away with this!
BC: Would you be so kind as to stand over there, on the carpet, so I can dispense with you properly?
MK: Are you calling me on the carpet? Hahaha.

BC: Laugh now . . . for that will be the last that anyone hears from the likes of you!
BC: Just as soon as I finish my nap. Being the furred crusader is hard work!
MK: No kidding! No doubt, small stuffed animals are a formidable foe.
BC: You mock me . . . you gamble with your life . . . as I sit upon the precipice of my fury!
MK: Furry fury? The only thing I see you sitting on is my thesaurus. 
BC: Some times I REALLY hate you.
MK: I love you, Bear.
{Momma gives Bear a kiss between his ears}
BC: MooooooooommmmmmmMMMMAA! Murderous, crusading cats don't DO kisses!
BC: And the nefarious teddy bear is watching! Way to undermine my menacing reputation among the infidels!
MK: He doesn't look very intimidating.
BC: Shows what you know! If I left it up to you, you'd be conquered by all kinds of evil-doers! His mien conveys innocence, but his heart is villainous and cold.
MK: I saw you cuddling with him last night.
BC: Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.
MK: Ah. So you were sleeping with one eye open to keep him in your sights.
BC: Yes. Bears can't be trusted!
MK: It's okay, Bear. I already knew.
BC: But I didn't have to confirm your incrimination! First comes incrimination, then comes DIScrimination.
MK: I'm not sure it's discrimination - I just know better. How about we snuggle and take naps?
BC: Good idea! That way I can keep my eye on you . . . for any of your evil human tricks!
MK: Now you're even staring at me while we sleep? I think I might need some anti-anxiety medication!
BC: I can be that too!
MK: True. I always feel better when you're next to me. I'm not even really sure how I know you're next to me when I'm sleeping, but I always sleep better with you there.
BC: Because you don't trust me!
BC: Doubted in my own kingdom! Another insult I must redress! 
MK: Sleep and snuggles?
BC: And I can exact my revenge for injustices afterward?
MK: Yes.
BC: On the carpet?
MK: Yes.
BC: Can I get some ear rubs too?
MK: Absolutely.
BC: I love you, Momma.
MK: I love you too, Bear.
BC: But don't let that lead to your complacency where I'm concerned. ON GUARD! I will come for revenge!
MK: I expect it.

Mr. Tough Pants Goes Outside
MK: {trying to whisper because it's late at night and other people live nearby} BEAR! Get back here! Now's NOT the time to be outside! I'm NOT giving you more treats to come back in!
{Momma waits . . . and waits . . . it starts to rain harder . . . and Bear is hidden somewhere in the dark . . . then Momma gives up and gets the treat bag, mumbling angrily under her breath}
MK: Bear! Inside! I'm shaking the bag! Where are you? Hello?
{Bear runs toward Momma, brakes suddenly, then goes back the way he came}
MK: I saw you come out, look at me with that defiant look in your eyes, and then turn around and go back to your hiding spot! BEAR! I know you hear me!
{Furious treat bag shaking}
{Bear runs to the front door and then stops - without going in}
MK: Oh, no! You have to go inside before you get the treats! I'm not giving them to you outside - for you to dart away when you're done.
BC: Let me think about it {thinking: One potato - two potato - three potato . . . hey, it's raining out here! . . . Awww MAN! Now I'm WET! . . . Now where was I? One potato - two potato . . . Eh. Screw it.}.
{Bear FINALLY runs inside}
BC: Treats, treats, treats, treats!
MK: I am very unhappy with you young man!
BC: {running to his food bowl} And that's my problem HOW?
MK: This is the third serving of treats you've gotten tonight.
BC: No. Technically, the other two were BEFORE midnight - and this one is AFTER midnight - so it doesn't count as the same day.
BC: Then fork over the treats!
{Momma dumps out some treats}
BC: WAIT! Where are you going? I get treats! That was implied in the bag shaking!
{Bear tails Momma back to the kitchen}
BC: Treats . . . and treats . . . and treats . . . and treats . . .
MK: They're in your bowl!
BC: No, they're not!
MK: Oh, for crying out loud, Bear! They're in there! Stop following me - check out your food bowl - and see!
BC: {still following Momma} Treats . . . and treats . . . and treats . . . and treats . . .
{Momma picks up Bear to carry him back to his food bowl along with frustrated mumbling because the cat is so stubborn}
BC: {as his nose picks up the scent of the treats since Momma put him down right in front of his food bowl} OH! Heeeeeelllllllo handsome! TREATS! Nomnomnomnomnomnom.
{Momma walks around for a good five minutes, still muttering angrily under her breath . . . meanwhile, Bear stretches out on the bed with his belly full of treats . . . and falls asleep, leaving no room for Momma}.