"Conversations" With Bear Cat: Part 14

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: real vs. fake micey and revolts {HERE}, how to celebrate Momma Kat's birthday {HERE} and the multitude of ways Bear and Momma misunderstand each other {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}, 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 wanting (and annoying Momma):
BC: I want.
MK: What do you want?
BC: I want.
MK: You want me to pet you?
BC: CHOMP! No! No! Don't touch me!
BC: I want.
MK: No treats.
BC: I want.
MK: We'll play in a little while.
BC: I want.
MK: No outside.
{Silence while Bear stares at Momma}
{More silence and staring}
{Even more silence and staring}
BC: Giggle. Giggle. Giggle. SNORT. Giggle.
MK: If I get carted off to the funny farm . . . you'll have to go to the kennel!
BC: I thought it was a "pet resort."
MK: Giggle. Giggle. Giggle. SNORT. Giggle.

On waiting (and Momma’s magical powers):
BC: I'm waiting.
MK: For what? You're just sitting on the table, a foot away from me, and staring. Every time I reach over, you back out of reach.
BC: I'm just waiting.
{The lights go out and Momma hears Bear's startled shuffling until a loud THUNK gives Momma the impression Bear fell off the table after losing his balance}
MK: Bear? Are you okay?
BC: AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH! Momma's trying to kill me! Evil! She's evil!
MK: The electricity is out! I had no part in that.
BC: I hate the dark! You did it just to stop me from staring at you and making you uncomfortable!
MK: Okay, Bear.
BC: Make the lights come back on!
MK: Bubbly, bobbity, boo . . . and lights too!
{The lights come on, much to Momma's surprise and amusement}
BC: Whoooooooooooa! Coooooool! I knew you were a witch!
MK: I was kidding! I swear, I have no part in this! It's just a coincidence!
{Bear jumps back on the table and stares at Momma}
MK: You could learn a lesson . . .
BC: I already know! You have evil magical powers!
MK: That's right! If I get REALLY mad, I'll turn you into a toad.
BC: Haha . . . ha . . . you're kidding, right? Momma? MommmmmMA!?!
MK: Riiiiiiiiiibbbbbbbit!
{A startled Bear once again loses his balance on the table and falls off . . . you'd be surprised how often this really happens}
{Pause while Bear lifts a paw to double check he's not a toad . . . and confirms the noise didn't come from him}

The Bear Stare . . . or a mugshot . . . you decide.

On Bear’s movie mania:
BC: I've noticed striking resemblances between you and the Wicked Witch of the West.
MK: Really?
BC: First, you're mean.
MK: Because I won't let you gorge yourself on treats, or lose your teeth by not taking care of them, or subject you to the dangers of being outside?
BC: Whatever. Anyway, there was that incident with the lights a few days ago . . . when you threatened to turn me into a toad.
MK: I was kidding! And I have no control over the electricity!
BC: Whatever. And some times, your face is blue.
MK: I use acne masks! And the Wicked Witch's face was green!
BC: And I hear you saying "I'll get you my pretty . . . and your little teeth, too!" when you're chasing me down to brush my teeth.
BC: Whatever. Wait until I find your broom . . . I have a special present saved up for it.
MK: If you can find my broom, that'd be awesome! I can't remember where I put it so I've been using the mop.
MK: Crap! That's not what I meant! Well, it IS what I meant, just not in the way you think I meant it. ARGGGG!
MK: You should watch out for the flying monkeys.
BC: Why? Are they not as tasty as they sound?
MK: No, you don't EAT them . . . oh, never mind. We'll BOTH have nightmares.
BC: Welcome to my life . . . EVERY day.
MK: Funny. I'd have thought that was your life when you lived outside, under the deck, and had nothing to eat because you were too scared to hunt.
BC: That's not the way I remember it.
MK: Why am I NOT surprised?
BC: Because your witchly powers include omniscience . . . I bet you have a crystal ball! Forget the broom . . . I want your crystal ball! I will OWN that mother-{BLEEP}er.
BC: RATS! I'm grounded again, aren't I? You'll keep me locked in a room . . . with an hourglass showing how much time I have left.
MK: No more movies for you.

On Momma "ruining" misbehaving for Bear:
{Bear casually and confidently walks out of the room where the noise came from}
BC: {looking at Momma} Hehehe. Giggle. SNORT! Giggle.
MK: I don't want to know!
BC: Haha. I really did it this time! Giggle. SNORT. Giggle. Giggle.
MK: NO! I don't want to know! Leave me in my blissful ignorance until I'm ready to deal with it.
BC: But I want to see your reaction! I might be sleeping when you find it!
MK: I DON'T WANT TO KNOW right now.
BC: Knock, knock!
MK: If the joke involves you telling me what you did, I'm not home.
BC: You don't know everything!
MK: And I like it that way.
BC: RATS! You make misbehaving NO FUN!

On chickens (again) part 1:
This series of four conversations about chickens followed the blog post about celebrating Momma's birthday
The original chicken post: TMC ISO TWC.

BC: Momma?
MK: I was sleeping! Are you dying?
BC: Oops. Whatever.
BC: I'm glad you're awake!
MK: What's wrong, Bear?
BC: What's a "security code?"
MK: It's the three digit number . . . WAIT A MINUTE!
BC: Is it like your pin number? No, wait, that's FOUR numbers.
BC: I didn't do it!
MK: {narrowing her eyes at Bear} You mean if I go out and look at the computer - the screen won't show you in the middle of buying two whole chickens?
BC: Of course not! Don't be silly! I "compromised" with you to only get one, remember?
BC: Think of all the money you're saving by not getting one for yourself!
BC: When you say, "No chickens," does that mean one chicken is okay? Because "chickens" is plural, so technically, one chicken is not defying your order . . .
MK: No chicken! No chickens! No chicks! No eggs! Nothing that says "Bok-Bok" or "Cocka-Doodle-Doo." Nothing that clucks or pecks. Nothing with feathers or that should have feathers. Nothing paid for with my credit card or debit card or on account!
BC: You can buy things on account and pay for them later?
BC: Boy, are YOU grumpy! You need a nap!
{Silence while Momma glares at Bear}
BC: Oh, crap. I hear my "real" mom calling . . . what's she doing under your bed? . . . where you can't reach me . . . bye-bye!

On chickens (again) part 2:
Incident 784: Random hint for Momma that Bear wants a chicken

BC: Knock-knock!
MK: What?
BC: Knock-knock!
MK: Since when do you knock and not just barge in like you own the place?
BC: NOOO. I'm telling you a JOKE!
BC: Knock-knock!
MK: Who's there?
BC: Why did the chicken cross the road?
MK: Those are two separate jokes!
BC: No. Jokes start with "knock-knock." DUH! EVERYBODY knows THAT!
MK: I'll remember that for future reference . . . don't answer the "knock," avoid the joke.
BC: Why did the chicken cross the road?
MK: If the answer is, "To get to our house," you're grounded.
MK: Bear?
BC: Knock-knock!
BC: RATS! I'll have to come back later.

On chickens (again) part 3:
BC: Did a package come today?

MK: No. I know you aren't interested in the boxes . . . are you expecting something?
BC: Not really.
MK: Not really?
BC: Well, maybe. If we get a package . . . shaped like . . . err . . . farm fowl . . . I'll take care of it.
BC: What?
MK: So help me . . . if a chicken comes in the mail, I'll put you in that box and send it back to the farm . . . and I'll KEEP the damn chicken.
BC: Whoa! You'll send me to live in the chicken factory? That's like ALL BEAR CAN EAT CHICKEN! Kitty dreams . . . here I come!
MK: Chicken FARM.
BC: Don't be silly . . . everyone knows chickens are made in factories . . . you just want to discourage me!
MK: Okay, Bear.
BC: I think I can handle being stuck in a box for a few hours, if it means I get to live in chicken heaven!
MK: You have NO CLUE how the world works, do you?
BC: Do you think my cat tree will fit in the chicken-shaped box with me?
MK: Exactly.

On chicken dreams {on chickens (again) part 4}:
BC: Momma! I had the best dream EVER!
MK: About what?
BC: In my dream, I got a whole chicken for Christmas!
MK: Is that another hint?
BC: NO! Well, it could be. But I REALLY did dream I got a whole chicken for Christmas.
MK: And how'd it go?
BC: The timing was perfect!
MK: Timing?
BC: By the time I got tired of playing with the bow and shredding the wrapping paper, you had a nice chicken dinner ready for me.
MK: And then what happened?
BC: I was too tired to eat, so I passed out.
MK: YOU were tired, but I was the one who killed, plucked, cleaned, and cooked a whole chicken?
BC: You make it sound like it takes a lot of work!
MK: Maybe you could help?
BC: But I can't miss the bow!
MK: But you could miss the chicken?
BC: RATS! Betrayed by my own dream!

On "state the obvious" day:
MK: I'm thankful for you, Bear. Sharing my life with you makes me very happy and I love you.

BC: Is it "state the obvious" day?
MK: No. Today's Thanksgiving!
BC: But you stated the obvious!
MK: What should have I said?
BC: To start: "I'm thankful for your claws! I'm thankful for your fangs! I'm thankful for all the hard work you do to create such meaningful and deep artwork . . . and your flair for redecoration! I'm thankful you never make anything easy! I'm thankful you spend half your life either on the kitchen counter or hogging my desk chair!"
MK: I don't seem thankful for those things?
BC: You clip my claws! You try to share the desk chair with me! You sigh and huff when you find one of my creations! And you tell me to get off the counter!
MK: But I also brush your teeth so you don't lose any more teeth. And I don't replace the carpet, the blinds, or the furniture because I like that they aren't perfect - but instead are a reflection of the best part of my life. And I give you ear rubs when you're on the counter - as I'm telling you to get off.
BC: You're very confusing!
MK: I'm sorry to confuse you, Bear. You should know that while I sometimes get frustrated, I love you very much and wouldn't change a thing about you. I know sometimes it seems like I'm complaining about you on our blog - but it's more recognizing all the unique little things that make you my Bear Cat.
BC: So you're saying you like when I hide behind the rosebush?
MK: Well, no. But it's you. And I respect and love that.
BC: I love you, Momma. Can I say what I'm thankful for?
MK: Sure.
BC: I'm thankful for fishy, ear rubs, back scratches, belly rubs, my cat tree, my toys, your toys, long naps, comfy places to sleep, a home, grass, the rosebush, my beautiful fur, my sexiness . . . it seems like I'm forgetting something.
MK: Oh?
BC: Bows! I'm thankful for bows! And I'll be thankful for a whole chicken . . . if I ever get one.
MK: You just HAD to slip that one in there, right?
BC: Are we back to "state the obvious" day?

On "hacking" into Bear's brain:
MK: You're following me?

BC: No. You're following me.
MK: You're walking behind me, how can I be following you?
BC: You hacked into my brain with your evil human skills - so you know where I'm going to go before I start moving. You want me to THINK I'm following you so it breaks my fierce spirit and I become a dog.
MK: If that's what I want, why wouldn't I just get a dog?
BC: With my superior intellect, I cannot determine your motivations borne of an inferior mind.
MK: But I'm smart enough to hack into your brain and access everything going on in there?
BC: Perhaps my firewall is broken.
MK: Did you shred it?
BC: I'm not telling you anything! Foiled again by my desire to destroy things . . . err . . . I mean my art!
MK: A firewall is not an actual wall.
BC: I know that! I was just testing you.
MK: I have a headache.
BC: PROOF! You are stealing from me!
MK: Why would I . . . oh, never mind. You win. I've hacked in to your brain.
BC: I appear to have finally confounded you by thinking in random directions . . . thus, you lost your connection.
MK: You always think in random directions . . . I'm lucky to keep up.
BC: Obviously. My superior mind leaves your inferior mind in the dust.
MK: You're still following me.
BC: Am not! Am not! Am not!

On Bear's bathing privacy:
BC: Do you mind?

MK: Mind what?
BC: I'm bathing! I like privacy.
MK: My eyes are closed and I'm just laying here!
BC: Privacy.
MK: I LOVE listening to you groom yourself - it's so soothing!
BC: Please leave.
MK: Bear, I was here first! You came and laid down next to me . . . and then decided to give yourself your nightly bath . . .
BC: Whatever.
MK: And besides . . . you watch me every single time I go to the bathroom or get a shower.
BC: I don't know what you're talking about.
BC: Are you STILL here?
MK: I'm not moving.
BC: Fine. Be selfish. Like always. I should be used to it by now.

On taking advantage:
BC: NO! NO! Don't touch me!

MK: Okay.
BC: Wait! What?!?!? Why aren't you petting me?
MK: You told me not to touch you, Mr. Tough Pants!
BC: I said nothing of the sort!
{Pause for the variety of scratches and rubs Bear likes}
BC: If you REALLY loved me, you'd figure out how to rub my belly, my ears, AND scratch my back all at the same time.
MK: I only have two hands!
BC: Excuses! Excuses!
BC: CHOMP! No! NO! Don't touch me! Momma's trying to kill me! HEEEEEEEEEELLLP!
MK: Oh, for crying out loud.
BC: Why aren't you petting me? My belly is right in your face!
MK: Do I really look that stupid?
BC: Honestly? Yeah, kinda. You're a sucker for my cuteness.
MK: Fantastic. You'd think you'd not want to take advantage of that.
BC: I'm a cat! "Take advantage" is my middle name! "Pooh Bear Take Advantage," which you so rudely shorten to "BEAR!" whenever I'm ALLEGEDLY misbehaving.
MK: Imagine that.
BC: I don't have to . . . I'm THERE . . . misbehav . . .
BC: Rats!

On clipped claw complications:

BC: I hate you!
MK: Ummm . . . okay.
BC: You clipped my claws today and now it's harder to snag my mousie!
MK: Extra effort means more exercise!
BC: You're not the one running and jumping all over the place! You just sit there and swing it around!
MK: You're right.
BC: And furthermore . . . WAIT! You said I'm right!
MK: Yes.
BC: So we can't argue anymore?
MK: Technically, no.
MK: You don't say.

On Momma's bad moods:
MK: {mumbling angrily to herself} Seriously . . . IDIOT . . . makes me mad . . . stupid . . . ridiculous . . . done with this crap . . . stick it . . .

BC: Is it safe?
MK: What?
BC: Are you in a bad mood?
MK: What?
BC: Is this a bad time?
MK: For what?!?!
BC: To talk to you.
MK: Why?
BC: I'm just curious. So I take it you don't know . . . and your rant is not directed at me . . .
MK: What'd you do?
BC: Haha! Nothing!
MK: Bear . . .
BC: You don't know everything!
MK: {seeing the mess} Never mind.
BC: Isn't it pretty?
MK: Pushing it . . .
BC: He-he. I'm cute, Momma! Look at me! Aren't I cute?
MK: Not on top of the pile, no.
BC: {now on the other side of the room} How about now?
MK: {sigh} Yes. You're cute.
BC: So you can't be mad at me, right?
MK: No. Having a cat means learning acceptance of that which you can't control . . . namely a cat with a destructive streak.
BC: It's not destruction! It's ART!!!
MK: Yes. I'm aware. Would you like some ear rubs?
BC: Why don't you take care of the mess . . . er . . . my art, first?
BC: JUST KIDDING! I love ear rubs! I'll take some right now! Gosh, I didn't even know HOW MUCH I wanted ear rubs until this very second!!

On feline dramatics:
BC: MoooooommmmmmMA! You can't pet me with wet hands! My beautiful fur gets wet!

MK: Really.
BC: I hate being wet!
MK: That might be believable . . . if you didn't play in your water bowl . . . or go running outside in to the pouring rain and stand there, daring me to come get you.
BC: MommmmmmmmMA!
MK: I still don't feel sorry for you.
BC: But MooooooooommmmmmmmmmmmMMMMMMMMMa!
MK: Really? Whining? Anger from a cat, I get. But WHINING?
MK: Oh, brother . . .
BC: MMMMMEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLTING! EEEEEEEEE! Almost gone! Bye, Momma! Maybe you'll appreciate me when I'm gone! In like five seconds! EEEEEEEEEEE!
MK: Are you done?
MK: Ummm . . . Bear?
MK: Go figure. The cat even out-dramatizes himself.

On Bear's "potency:"
BC: La de da, la da de, la . . .

{Silence . . . then Bear zooms out of the room}
MK: What the hell?
MK: {mumbling to herself} Crazy cat . . .
{Ten seconds pass}
MK: Sniff. SNIFFFFF. Oh, for the love of . . . . BEAR!
BC: {walking back into the room} What?
BC: What is that smell? Did you fart?
MK: Ha ha. Very funny.
BC: Maybe you should go to the doctor for that. Talk about ripe!
MK: Seriously? I lay down and then you fart and take off? AGAIN!?!?
BC: I wasn't in the room! I just meandered in here a second ago and BOOM! there it was! I don't see how you can blame me when you were alone in the room!
MK: Right. You were in here 20 seconds ago. The least you could do is stay where you fart and take it like a man instead of running off before the whole bouquet is revealed.
BC: I think you need anti-gas medication. You're full of hot air, Momma! Hahaha! Get it? HOT AIR! The Momma is BOOT-Y ca-llin'.
MK: You're grounded.
BC: I'M grounded?!?!
MK: Remember, after the last incident when you were OBSESSED for DAYS with the phrase "booty call," I told you you'd be grounded next time you said "booty call."
BC: More hot air! The "Booty-callin'" Momma!
BC: Giggle, giggle, SNORT, giggle. BOOOOOT-TAY CALLLLLL! Boot-y callin'! Giggle, giggle, SNORT, giggle. Giggle, giggle, SNORT, giggle. Your BOOOOOT-TAY is CALLIN' but I ain't answerin'!

If you missed it, here's the original booty call incident referenced above:
BC: Momma? Did you hear the phone ring?

MK: No. And there aren't any messages on the answering machine. Why?
BC: Because a little birdie told me that I missed her booty call. Is that a special kind of call?
MK: Does this "birdie" live in my spam mailbox?
BC: No! I'm not allowed on the internet!
BC: I was checking my fan e-mail.
MK: Bear, for the love of monkey muffins, spam isn't fan mail! If the people are even real, they just want to take advantage of you.
BC: If the chick is pretty, she can take advantage of me any time. Hey-heeey!
MK: Oh, my head.
BC: So what's a booty?
MK: Another name for a butt.
BC: Then what's a booty call? Is that like farting?
MK: Umm . . . sure.
BC: Hey, Momma! Do you hear my booty call?
MK: Oh no.
BC: I'm booty calling you!
BC: My booty is still calling you! Pick up! You know you want some booty calling! Can you hear me? Can you hear me now?
MK: The line is busy.
BC: RATS! I'll take my booty call elsewhere!

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