"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}.

No comments

If you have trouble posting a comment, please let us know by e-mail: cats@mommakatandherbearcat.com. THANK YOU FOR STOPPING BY!