"Conversations" With Bear Cat: Part 19

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 an extended "conversation" deserving of its own blog post, we discussed 
When a Sexy Cat Lacks Sexy Things (about Bear's pen collection and random admissions he regrets making).

The other blog post in this cycle, if you missed it:
Bear Is . . . Bear . . . In All His Glory - Even with the difficulties Bear experienced after his dental surgery, it became clear to me early on, that Bear was, WITHOUT A DOUBT the cat I'd dropped off at the vet that morning . . . {For background on the events surrounding Bear's tooth extraction, you can find our conversations regarding them here: "Conversations" With Bear Cat: Part 18.}

See the previous collections of shorter "conversations," like the ones posted belowPart 1Part 2Part 3Part 4Part 5Part 6Part 7Part 8Part 9Part 10Part 11Part 12Part 13Part 14Part 15Part 16, Part 17, and Part 18.

Here's the collection of shorter dialogues from the past three weeks (previously posted to Momma Kat's Facebook page; below, in order from most recent to oldest):

BC: Bear Cat
MK: Momma Kat

On a man for Momma:
BC: Momma?
MK: Yes, Bug?
BC: I think you deserve a man in your life.
MK: Hate me that much, do you?
BC: HEY! I'M a man!
MK: Exactly. There are only so many high-maintenance males a girl can take.
BC: I was thinking of your happiness!
MK: That's very sweet of you, Bear.
BC: I think you should take me to the Plenty O' Fish market to check out the dudes.
MK: Excuse me?
BC: Isn't Plenty of Fish a fish market that also doubles as a meeting site for singles?
MK: You just want to go to a fish market?
BC: Maybe.
MK: Bear, Plenty of Fish is a dating WEB SITE. They don't stock fish or dates and there's no physical store.
BC: If they don't have actual fish, why is "fish" in the name? Another brilliant idea by you strange and somewhat addle-brained humans. If Plenty of Fish doesn't sell fish, where am I going to get fish for my fish-SLASH-duck aquarium?
MK: {trying to change the subject to avoid the argument regarding Bear's desired fish/duck aquarium, see note at bottom} Besides, you don't like sharing me, do you?
BC: Phht. Like I care . . .
BC: I love you, Momma.
MK: I love you too, Bug.
BC: No men?
MK: Not right now.
BC: Fish?
MK: I don't think so.
BC: Not even parts of fish so the not-quite-whole ducks have company? The parts of fish would probably help the parts of ducks feel more at home. Otherwise the parts of ducks would always be taunted by the wholeness of the fish. Constant reminders that they're not whole! I bet the poor partial ducks have no self-esteem!
MK: No. No parts of fish either. Besides, PARTS of animals don't go running or swimming around like whole animals. I don't know where you got the idea that there are portions of animals going about their lives like they're whole. Show me a half duck flying around and you can have it.
BC: {LOUD DRAMATIC SIGH} I GUESS that's okay . . . BUT if you get a man, I get WHOLE fish! Oooh! And TASTY! I get TASTY, WHOLE fish!

Note: Bear's desire for a fish/duck aquarium was first discussed in our last blog post here: 
When a Sexy Cat Lacks Sexy Things
If you missed Bear's first experience with Plenty of Fish (almost a year ago!}, you can read about that here: Butts, Boxes, Porn, Taking Over the World . . . and Fish?!?!?

On matching right in the broken places:
BC: That was fun!
MK: {still laughing} Definitely.
BC: I missed our play-fighting and rough housing. And my claws missed you.
MK: After you had your tooth extracted, I was afraid of being rough since we sometimes get a little rowdy. I didn't want to hurt you. You're a claws and fangs kind of cat and you aren't satisfied unless you're using both . . . thus my fear it would be too hard on your mouth.
BC: I love when we chase each other around like crazy people! You're a tough Momma! You aren't scared of anything!
MK: That's not true. I'm just good at hiding it. I'm terrified of something happening to you.
BC: But you also haven't been yourself recently.
MK: That is true too. Between your tooth issues and my own painful medical problems, I've been down and depressed. And feeling majorly overwhelmed.
BC: I think your funk is affecting my hilariousness on our blog.
MK: Yeah, probably. I haven't been satisfied with my work of sharing your awesomeness for the last few weeks; I feel "off."
BC: Is that why you're sleeping a lot?
MK: Maybe. At first I just thought I was catching up because I had several days of not sleeping either because of your tooth extraction or because of my own medical issues. But you're right, it's starting to be troublesome.
BC: I love sleepy snuggles . . . and if I'm going to sleep, I'd rather be cuddled up with you than on my cat tree by myself. But I worry about my Momma.
MK: I love you, Bear.
BC: I know. I see that every day . . . in the ways you look at me and talk to me and take care of me and always stop what you're doing to give me ear rubs. You're a good Momma.
MK: That's all that matters to me.
BC: You never hold anything back, never withhold anything from me . . . and that makes me feel safe enough to do the same.
MK: I'm glad. Because The Great Bear Cat in all his glory is pretty darn amazing.
BC: Are you done being depressed?
MK: I hope so. At least for now.
BC: I love you, Momma.
MK: I know. That's what makes everything worth it.
BC: We're lucky we found each other. We might not always agree, but our hearts match right in the broken places.

ps - Momma's walls are decorated with comics of all types: from the newspaper, LOLCats/I can has cheezeburger, etc. Momma's learned the best way to deal with life is to laugh. Here are two of Momma's favorite comics when she's feeling depressed.
1) Garfield by Jim Davis; July 21, 2001.

2) Mother Goose & Grimm by Mike Peters; March 23, 2002.

On biting season:
MK: Holy hell, Bear! Not only do I have a three inch gash, but the entire length of it is also bruised a deep purple!
BC: Looks like you got attacked by a wild, ferocious beast!
MK: You don't say.
BC: NO! I DO say! I DEFINITELY do say!
MK: Uh huh. SUPER ferocious.
BC: Thank you . . .
BC: I mean . . . RATS!
BC: Shorts and short-sleeve shirt season, HERE I COME!
BC: Can I bite you again? For practice? I mean, you're not a tasty whole chicken or anything, but you are pretty plump and juicy.
MK: Since when do you give me warning of being bitten or ask my permission to bite me?
BC: RATS! That was a warning. I'm rusty at being able to freely take my revenge on exposed appendages.
BC: {walking around randomly} LA . . . LA . . . La-Dee-Da-Dee-Da . . . ARGGGGGGG! {CHOMP!}
BC: Were you surprised?
MK: Err . . . of course!
BC: Why aren't you screaming out in pain? Do I need to try again?
MK: OWWWW! The expression of my pain was only delayed because the circuit was overloaded with pain signals from your savage, ruthless bite - so it couldn't be immediately expressed. That was a lot of pain! Phew! I BARELY survived.
BC: Yep! I'm ready for biting season! And I even have one less tooth this year! Beware my formidable and fear-inspiring pain generator aka my fangs!

To read more about Bear's disappointments with winter (including his inability to express his feline furry fury to his satisfaction due to Momma wearing sweatshirts and pants): DramaCat vs. DiaboliCat.

On prattling on into infinity:
MK: Why do I always get the impression based on your facial expressions and body language that either you don't understand a darn thing I say . . . or that you're ignoring me completely like I'm not talking!?
MK: SEE! That blank look! It's like you're not home! Or you're lost. Or you don't care.

BC: I'm sorry, did you say 'treats?' Oh, you didn't? Then, no. I don't care.
MK: Some day you could miss something really important by not listening to me.
BC: I'm sorry, did you say 'treats?' Oh, you didn't? Then, no. It's not important.
MK: What I don't get is that you run around here with the crazies, seemingly hearing disconcerting and scary voices that aren't there, but you can't manage to hear a word I actually say.
BC: You've reached Bear Cat. Please don't leave a message as it will become mangled so all I hear is, "blah, blah, blah, blah, blah," as you prattle on into infinity. BEEP!
MK: SEE! That's the look you get when you pretend I'm not talking at all!
BC: {silence}.
BC: Do you mind? Why are you staring at me?
MK: I'm talking to you.
BC: No, you're not.

On repossessing Bear's wet food treat:

BC: I hate you!
MK: Ummm . . . okay. Why?
BC: You repossessed my wet food treat!
MK: I did not! Your plate is still sitting out!
BC: NO! You repossessed the food that was already in my belly!
MK: Bear. You tossed your fishy because you gobbled your food down. We go through this EVERY DAY. Pace yourself . . . no tossed fishy.
BC: I'm not stupid! I know you pressed the button.
MK: The button?
BC: To repossess my food!
BC: Is this because of the . . .
BC: Hmmm . . . don't think you know about that one . . .
BC: What about the . . .
BC: Nope. That one either.
BC: And the . . .
BC: Nah.
MK: Do you think I LIKE cleaning fishy bits off the carpet? Why would I CHOOSE to do that? I WOULDN'T! Not even if I was REALLY, REALLY mad at you!
BC: SHEESH! There's no reason to get so mad!
MK: I'M NOT MAD! I'm FRUSTRATED. You blame me for everything that happens, yet I'm always telling you what not to do so you don't get yourself in these situations! But do you listen? NO! You just do the exact OPPOSITE of what I tell you! "Bear! Don't stick your paw in the toaster!" Do you listen? NO! And then your paw gets stuck! "Bear! Don't climb on that . . . it's not steady!" Do you listen? NO! And then you get mad when the entire pile collapses! "Bear! Watch what you're doing instead of watching for my reaction!" Do you listen? NO! Then you fall off the bed backwards because you didn't see the edge of the bed. "Bear! It's cold and wet outside!" Do you listen? No! Then you get mad when your paws get wet and you freeze your little butt off because you just HAD to test your escape skills and are too stubborn to come right back inside!
MK: Bear. The only BOOBY-trap in this house is YOU!
BC: Can I have more wet food?
BC: I hate you!
MK: You hate me. So you do the exact thing I tell you NOT to do. Then you suffer the consequences and you hate me for that too!
BC: You admit it! If you didn't tell me NOT to do something, I wouldn't have to do it!
BC: Can I have more wet food?
BC: Momma?
BC: MommmmmmmmmmmmmmmmMMMMMMA?!?!
BC: NO! You can't close yourself in the bathroom WITHOUT ME! LET ME IN! LET ME IN RIGHT NOW!
MK: Bear, the door's only touching. Use your paw. Or your nose.
BC: NO! It's stuck!
MK: No, it's . . .
BC: ARRRRRRR . . . {Bear tumbles into the bathroom after ramming the door with his entire body, because, in fact, it was just touching and not actually closed} . . . OOF!
BC: This is YOUR FAULT! Why'd you even close the door in the first place? A closed door taunts me: "Knock me down! I am here to protect something fun/tasty/valuable/breakable, etc on the other side of the door that the human is keeping from you. You will NOT win, cat! I DARE you to try!"
MK: {sigh} You win. You ALWAYS win!
BC: Is it "state the obvious" day again?

On Fred:
MK: Bear? What are you . . .
MK: But . . .
MK: You're being really quiet so I'm trying to figure out what you're up to.
BC: I'm TRYING to listen to my friend update me on all the neighborhood gossip!
MK: Your friend? {Momma looks out the window}. You mean that huge bird on top of our storage shed?
BC: His name is Fred.
MK: Bear, If you went outside, THAT bird, your friend, would hand you your ass . . .
BC: Shhhh! Ooooooh! Bella knocked off the bird's sister's mailbird! I knew she was tough as nails!
MK: Bella, your little black kitty girlfriend? I haven't seen her around here recently!
BC: Oooooh! And Trouble's come home to roost in his uncle's nest!
MK: Trouble? What happened?
BC: He got kicked out of his girlfriend's nest!
MK: Oh. The bird's name is "Trouble."
MK: You're just sitting here and not talking like you usually do with your friends.
BC: Are you jealous?
MK: Ummm . . . WHY?
BC: Because the bird is yakking on and on about random stuff, just like you do ALL THE TIME, but I'm actually LISTENING to him?
MK: You're just sitting here listening to the bird cooing?
BC: You don't see me judging YOUR friends!
BC: Oh, wait. That's because you don't HAVE any friends!
MK: You're usually scared of birds.
BC: This one's not evil. He doesn't dive bomb me. He just sits up there and shoots the breeze.
MK: You've never been dive bombed by a bird outside.
BC: No! Through the window.
MK: Somehow, NOT the same. And he didn't dive bomb you, he just landed on the window sill outside and squawked at you.
BC: Yeah! Dive bombing!
MK: Oh, Bear. I suppose you were scared considering you fell backwards out of the window.
BC: {GASP} You were NEVER to speak of that AGAIN!
MK: "That?" Over the course of a month, it happened like ten times! More like "THEM!"
MK: Uh oh.
BC: Yes! That's right! Run as fast as your annoying human feet can carry you! Who's afraid NOW?
BC: Oooooooooooooooooooh. You don't say! Baby birds? How tasty! Err . . . I mean yummy . . . umm . . . cute! Who's the father? {GASP} Noooooooooo!
MK: {from the other room} Those baby birds could hand you your ass on a platter too!
BC: And YET. You ran.
MK: Because I'm the only living thing besides spiders you aren't afraid of. And I'm on the wrong end of your claws and fangs enough as it is already. And HOW long did you hide under the bed when the bird squawked at you?
BC: Which tim . . .
MK: Exactly.

On tasty HALF chickens:
BC: Momma?
MK: No.
BC: You don't even know what I want!
MK: Does it include the word, "whole?"
BC: No. Haha. Of course not! You thought I was going to ask for a tasty whole chicken? BOR-RING.
MK: Okay. What do you want?
BC: Err . . . umm . . .
BC: Two tasty HALF chickens.
MK: Right.
BC: I can have them?
MK: No.
BC: Sometimes I don't like you very much.
MK: That's okay. I don't expect you to.
BC: But I EXPECT you to give me whatever I want!
MK: That's why I don't expect you to like me all of the time.
BC: You think you're so smart . . . and that you know everything . . . I HATE YOU! Expect THAT!
MK: I did.
BC: RATS! I need some new material. Cats are meant to be unpredictable.
MK: You're predictably unpredictable.
BC: Errr . . . ummm . . . thanks?
MK: SEE! I was surprised when you said "thanks."
BC: I'm going to go take a nap and ponder this deeply unsettling and strange conversation.

If you missed the posts about Bear's obsession with tasty whole chickens: 
It began here: TMC ISO TWC {Tenacious Male Cat In Search of Tasty Whole Chicken}.
Continued here (see On chickens, part 1-4): "Conversations" With Bear Cat: Part 14.
and here: Bear Lobbies For His Christmas List.

On Bear's revenge . . . :
MK: Bear! That's disgusting!
MK: No! NOT on my . . .
BC: HWAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaccccccccccccccccCK!
MK: You just HAD to jump on my desk chair for that last part, didn't you?
BC: Whatever.
MK: And you wonder why I take away your food when you start snarfing it down.
BC: Whatever.
MK: You can't blame me for taking this a bit personally . . . when you jumped on my desk chair KNOWING you were about to yak again.
BC: Not everything is about you! I could be dying!
MK: If you're dying, we need to go to the vet.
BC: What, to finish off the job?
MK: Are you dying?
BC: Whatever.
MK: While it dries where am I going to sit?
BC: Whatever.
BC: At least you don't have to worry about me stealing the desk chair for awhile. Eww.
MK: How kind.
BC: {GASP} Where am I going to sleep? How will I annoy you if I can't steal your desk chair when you're only a few feet away from sitting down?
MK: You never seem to have a problem with either of those things.
BC: Good point. I hear the toaster calling. It's asking to be plugged in.
MK: Not a chance.
BC: You ruin ALL my fun! You always rain on my parade! I'm starting to think you don't even LIKE me!
MK: And yet, I don't barf on your stuff. And you never see me racing you to your cat tree to steal your favorite spot.
BC: Only because you don't FIT on my favorite spot . . . not even your BUTT fits on my favorite spot . . . not to mention, you're WAY over the weight limit!

Note: A few years ago, Bear frequently grabbed Momma's attention by jumping on the counter, checking twice to make sure she was watching, and then slowly sticking his paw in the toaster. One fateful day, however, Mr. Smarty-Pants got his paw stuck and Momma got there just in time to catch the cat AND the toaster barreling off the counter. And from that day forth, the toaster is only plugged in when in use . . . which means it's lost all of Bear's interest because it only took him a few times of approaching the unplugged toaster and Momma not reacting for him to give up that specific quest for attention. Fear not. For every thwarted attention-getting attempt, Bear comes up with ten more that work.

Bear's revenge for what exactly? {in his own words}:
Ever wonder what my Momma does when she's bored? She takes tons and tons of pictures of her favorite kitty and then stares at them for hours. Even worse? When I drag myself out of bed for breakfast and wait for her to get the clue and she starts fawning over how cute I am WHILE I WAIT . . . takes tons of pictures, and then my breakfast is an HOUR late! Poor, poor me. Thus the need to barf my breakfast on her desk chair. I showed her! ~Bear Cat

On the detritus of Momma's iniquitous existence:
MK: What? What's wrong?
BC: There's a bug in my litter box!
MK: Where?
BC: Right THERE! Oh, misfortune has found me again! Oh, cruel adversity! Calamity has come home to roost! HOW WILL I SURVIVE this most recent tribulation?!?!
MK: How did you even see that? It's a dead mosquito.
BC: I can't use my litter box!
MK: It's a dead bug.
BC: He might bite my unmentionables!
MK: He's DEAD!
BC: How do you know he's not just PLAYING dead?
MK: Because I'm pretty sure that's the mosquito I smacked against the wall above your litter box fifteen minutes ago.
BC: Does my litter box look like your trash can?
MK: Bear, I didn't see where he fell!
BC: Oh, woe. Next time I have to poop, I'll go to my litter box only to find it littered . . .
BC: Next time I have to poop, I'll go to my litter box only to find it strewn with all the unwanted detritus of your iniquitous existence! Expecting me to partake of this inglorious poop trap is akin to asking me to poop outside where the litter isn't real!
BC: I shall not . . . NO! I CANNOT use that vile litter box!
MK: How about I bury the DEAD bug?
BC: But, I'll KNOW he's there!
MK: Fine. He's gone.
BC: How do I know you didn't just try to trick me and bury him?
BC: Empty the entire litter box, clean it, and refill it will new, pristine litter!
MK: No. Just, NO!
BC: I cannot use the litter box in its present condition.
MK: I removed the dead bug!
BC: This is NOT a negotiation! The litter box is defiled, tainted, debauched, desecrated, impure, polluted, objectionable, repugnant, ABHORRENT!
MK: You're ridiculous. You act like a delicate flower that will shrivel up and die at the slightest indignity.
BC: I am!
MK: With fangs and claws and a general desire to enjoy their use!
BC: {digging around in the litter box looking for anything cataclysmic} Do you MIND?
MK: What?
BC: I have to poop! I don't need an audience.
MK: {mumbling} Like that ever stops you from watching me.
MK: The good news is that if you poop and the bug is still alive, that should finish him off.
BC: {jumping out of the litter box} You said you removed him!
MK: I did. And I left him outside. But you're, well, pungent.
BC: Thank . . . WAIT A MINUTE!

On idiot idioms:
MK: Okay, Bear. I let you get away with not having your teeth brushed last night. It's time to pay the piper.
BC: But, but . . . I don't KNOW any pipers!
BC: And I don't have any money because you're too cheap to give me an allowance!
BC: Am I going to be repossessed? They won't take me ALIVE!
BC: Or will they repossess my cat snacks? {GASP} Or my cat tree? My micey? I curse the day this piper came into my life!
MK: Bear, it's just a saying. It means you enjoyed a reprieve from something unpleasant, or that you consider to be unreasonable, for a little while, but now you have to face the music.
BC: Music? You're not going to "sing" are you? My poor sensitive ears!
MK: "Face the music" is another saying. It just means pay your debt or take responsibility for your actions.
BC: I have debt? Is this about the blinds? The carpet? That thing that got caught in the toilet plumbing?
MK: Wait! What got caught in the plumbing? Bear?!?!
MK: I TOLD you that you AREN'T allowed to flush the toilet! ESPECIALLY after you knock stuff in there! That's NOT the way to hide evidence of your misdeeds!
BC: As IF. I take pride in the execution of my fierce will - and seek to showcase the consequences for my enjoyment and greater glory. I bet I owe you millions of dollars due to my exploits and I didn't even know! You said you LOVED me!?!?!
MK: {sigh} Never mind. Thank goodness we don't have rats.
BC: WHAT?!?! Do rats block toilet plumbing too?
MK: The pied piper . . .
BC: A piper made of pies? What is a piper? And why would it be made of pies? Are they yummy pies like tuna pies? Or tasty whole chicken pies? Or rat pies? If we have rat pies, do we require a piper to eat them? Is that the problem?
MK: Never mind, NEVER mind! NEVER MIND!
BC: It's not my fault you humans speak in ridiculous riddles or walk around proudly spewing non-sense that you call "sayings," or "adages," or "cliches," or "idioms." Notice how close "idioM" is to "idioT?"
MK: Well, the "idio" prefix comes from . . .
BC: Do I look like I care? This cat doesn't understand the language of your unremitting nerdiness - even if my intellectual abilities FAR exceed yours.
MK: I'm going to brush your teeth now.
BC: Okay.
BC: Wait! No! No toothbrush! No teeth brushing! How was I supposed to know you meant that literally instead of as one of your idiot idioms?!?! I thought you meant drop the subject! I will kill you! And I'll send the toothbrush with you! And I mean that literally! No, no, no, no, no! Don't touch me! BEAR ABUSE! Momma's trying to kill me! HELP! Call 911!
MK: {sigh}.
{Pause while Momma takes care of business . . . err, I mean brushes Bear's teeth.}
MK: You're done.
BC: You can say that again!
BC: Momma! You're supposed to say that again!
MK: Oh, Bear.

On Bear's memory:
MK: Bear?
MK: How did my toothbrush get in the sink?
BC: Oh. THAT. Well, see your toothbrush was laying on top of your glass; I meant to knock it off toward me so I could bat it in the toilet. But instead, the toothbrush went away from me into the . . . WAIT!
BC: It's the pain medication!
MK: Bear, you haven't had pain medication for a week. It can't be the cause for you incriminating yourself!
BC: Who said anything about incrimination? I meant my aim was off because of the pain medication - which caused the toothbrush to fall in the sink instead of on the counter, where I could whack it in the toilet . . .
BC: I'm senile! Who are you? Who am I? Where am I? What were we talking about?
MK: The toothbrush.
BC: The one in the . . .
BC: What's a toothbrush?
MK: Thank you for NOT knocking it in the toilet.This time.
BC: You're welc . . .

On little friends:
MK: Would you like a little friend for a few days?
BC: Is this one of your phemisms?
MK: Phe . . . oh, you mean euphemism. No, it's not a euphemism. I have the chance to cat sit for a week and the person would like the cat to have someone around most of the time, which means the cat coming here.
BC: You've reached Bear Cat. I'm not accepting calls at the moment. Don't leave a message. BEEP!
MK: Did I mention it's a GIRL cat?
BC: You've reached Bear Cat. I'm not accepting calls . . . WAIT! Tell me more. BEEP!
MK: She's a little older than you, maybe 14?
BC: Does that make her what you humans call a "cougar?"
MK: I guess.
BC: YES! Bear's getting some cougar pussy cat!
[***See note at bottom***]
MK: Ummm . . . Bear . . .
BC: Heeeeeee-ey!
MK: That means you have to share your stuff. And it also means we might have a cuddle buddy.
BC: A threesome?
MK: Bear!
BC: What? You plus two cats, equals THREE! Sheesh! Now you can't even add! What do you THINK one plus two equals? Five?
BC: WAIT?!?! Share? Bear doesn't SHARE! No, no, no, no, NO! Bear DOES NOT share! I'm an only child!
MK: Are you sure you don't want to try?
BC: HMPH! You've reached Bear Cat. I'm not accepting your INSANE calls at the moment. Don't leave a message. BEEP!
MK: That's what I thought.
BC: Wait! You EXPECTED me to say no?
MK: Yes.
BC: Let me think about it. BEEP!
BC: Is she going to follow me around and watch everything I do? ANNOYING!
MK: You mean like what you did to Kitty?
BC: And Kitty was older than me, right?
MK: Yes.
BC: {GASP} I've already had cougar pussy cat and didn't even know it! My dreams and aspirations . . . . DASHED!
MK: Is that a no?
BC: You've reached Bear Cat. I'm not accepting calls at the moment. Don't leave a message. BEEP!
BC: NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! BEEP! And stop {BLEEP}ing calling! BEEP!
MK: BLEEPing BEEP! Hahaha.
MK: OWW! What was THAT for?

BC: Hahahaha! BEEP!

*** For those of you who don't remember, Bear is a bit naive and clueless about the slang we humans regularly use. He sees words or phrases "online" or in his spam mailbox and uses them without realizing their real meaning; he just thinks they sound cool and that using them makes him sound like a sophisticated cat of the world. For example, Bear thinks a "cougar," is a wildcat; a "pussy," is a feline (notice how he adds the "cat" just assuming it belongs); and a "booty call," means to fart. Momma still isn't sure how, but as you can discern from the above conversation, Bear's finally figured out the slang meaning of "cougar." Gone is his assumption that a blonde cougar (wildcat) is excited to meet him tonight (to eat), and now, he just assumes you're a cool boy cat for hanging out with an older female cat. You can read about the loss of Bear's internet privileges (due to his reckless cluelessness) here: Bear Loses His Internet Privileges, Permanently.

On sexy emergencies:

BC: Momma?
MK: What? What's wrong? With all this LOUD meowing you sound like you're dying!
BC: Am I sexy?
MK: Are you kidding me? I got out of the shower in the middle of washing my hair JUST so you could ask me if you're sexy?
BC: I AM sexy, aren't I Momma?
MK: Bear, this doesn't seem like an appropriate conversation for you to be having with your Momma.
BC: If you don't think I'm sexy . . . just tell me! I can face the truth . . .
MK: Bear . . .
BC: Just like you'll face the truth of my wrath. Ka-POW! Right in the kisser!
BC: I'm sexxxxxxxy!
BC: Do I look sexier when I walk this way . . .
BC: Or when I walk like this . . . notice my little extra tail flourish! Although, this option might be a bit TOO sexy!
BC: I tried them both out in front of the mirror last night, but I can't decide!
MK: Bear, you pranced in front of the mirror for three hours!
BC: Excuse me, but Bear Cat DOES NOT prance! But, yes, I checked out my sensuality and voluptuousness for at least a couple hours. In the mirror.
MK: Can I go back to my shower now? Shampoo is running in my eyes.
BC: Then answer the question!
MK: Bear, I can't even SEE at the moment!
BC: That's okay. You already know the answer! You don't need additional verification.
MK: {sigh} Yes.
BC: Yes, what? Say it!
MK: {sigh} Yes, you're sexy.
BC: Say it like you MEAN it!
BC: Party pooper!
BC: Am I handsome?
MK: Of course.
BC: Am I TOO sexy?
BC: Wait! NO! Don't close me out of the bathroom! I want to use the mirror!
BC: MooooommmmmmMA! Do you have to turn the shower back on? How RUDE! I can hardly see myself in the mirror with all this steam! You're so selfish! Everything always has to be YOUR way! Let me out! I want OUT of this bathroom RIGHT NOW! I'll break down this door if I have to! LET ME OUT! I'll use the mirror in the second bedroom!
BC: I'm too sexy for my tail . . . too sexy for my tail . . .
{And with that, Momma gets back in the shower and Bear continues to amuse himself with his . . . err . . . whatever you want to call it, in front of the mirror in the second bedroom.}

You can read more of Bear's version of "I'm Too Sexy" here: Kitty Diva or Pop "Tart?"

On Bear's big belly burning for bountiful bacon bites - part 1:
BC: OH! Food! Food, food, food, food, food, food, FOOD! FOOD for ME! Bear's big belly is burning for bountiful bacon bites! BACON! Food! Bear's big belly! FOOD! ME! NOW!!! YUUUUUM!
MK: You do NOT need more food.
BC: But Bear's big belly is burning for bountiful bacon bites!
MK: I don't give you bacon, Bear.
BC: Bacon. Like "bringing home the bacon!" The person doesn't ACTUALLY bring home bacon. Food! Sustenance! Noms! Provisions! Grub! Nourishment! Refreshments! YUM, YUM, YUM, YUM, YUM! Yummies in BEAR'S tummies!
MK: You already had your wet food treat today.
BC: But, but . . . for the last week, I've gotten EXTRA wet food!
MK: Yes. Because of your tooth extraction you weren't supposed to eat dry kibble . . . so for a few days, I fed you only wet food and then I introduced the dry food back in slowly. You're eating about as much dry food as usual right now - so we can go back to just wet food treats.
BC: Doesn't MY opinion matter? What if I LIKE the wet food? What if the aroma and bouquet and depth and finish of wet food is far superior to dry food?!?!? You expect a connoisseur to put up with anything less than the best?
MK: Bear, when you got home from the vet, you threw a major temper tantrum because I took your dry food away. Now you can have all the dry food you want.
BC: But, but . . . IT WAS THE PAIN MEDICATION! I didn't know what I was saying! Everybody knows kibble isn't REAL food! I probably even told you I LOVED you when I was on the pain medication! Love. Phht!
MK: Uh, huh. You just want what you can't have.BC: Oh, yeah? I want a Momma who feeds me so I don't starve!
BC: Wait.
BC: Never mind.
MK: Oh, Bear . . . snuggles?
BC: NO! You might want ***THIS*** {wiggling his butt} but you can't HAVE it! Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah!
BC: What do you think about THAT, Smarty-Pants?!?!
BC: HEY! Ear rubs are NOT allowed! This is against the Geneva Cat Convention! Against all my rights! PUUURRRRRRRR! This is wrong! Purr! Immoral! Puuuuuuurrrrrr. Marginalization! ABUSE!
BC: Wait! Wait! NO! Don't stop! I NEED LOVE!
MK: I always love you, Bear.
BC: These are cheap victories for you lady. Without you wielding the power of ear rubs, I wouldn't give you the time of day!
BC: OHHHHHHHHHHHH! And back scratches . . . . And BELLY rubs . . . And my chin . . . PURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR. NO! NO! You must do the TWO-HANDED rub!

To read about the events surrounding Bear's tooth extraction, you can find the conversations here: "Conversations" With Bear Cat: Part 18.

On Bear's big belly burning for bountiful bacon bites - part 2:
MK: What? What's wrong? What hurts?
BC: My tooth hurts!
MK: You mean where the tooth was removed?
MK: Oh, no. Let me see. {Slightly panicking.} Are your stitches coming out? Are you bleeding? Did some food get caught up there? I was afraid this was going to happen! I'll call the vet right now!
BC: NO! No, no, no, no, no! I can't eat this dry food! It hurts! OWWIE! I'm not ready to go back to dry food!
MK: {Visibly relaxing.} Uh, huh.
BC: I think you should switch me back to all wet food! Sardines, tuna, salmon . . . it hurts too much to eat dry food!
MK: Interesting. I checked your mouth before I gave you your wet food treat and everything looked okay.
BC: Woe is me! I CAN'T go on with this pain! If I must eat dry food, I will surely perish from hunger!
MK: Bear, in the last few hours, since I gave you your wet food treat, all you've eaten is wet food. If it hurts to eat that, I'm not going to give you more before talking to the vet.
BC: Err . . . umm . . .
MK: When I gave you your treat, I dumped all the dry food on your mat back into your bowl. And since you insist on batting the kibble onto the mat first before eating it, if there's no kibble on the mat, you haven't had dry food since I dumped all the extra back in the bowl. Not to mention I haven't heard any crunching.
BC: OH! My other tooth! One that's still in my mouth! I can't eat dry food!
{Bear looks at Momma to see if she's impressed and is disappointed to find her looking amused.}
BC: OH! My heart!
BC: My leg!
BC: I'm surely dying! Of some kind of combination leg/heart attack! Very, VERY serious! I need wet food RIGHT NOW! I need REAL food! Oh, the AGONY! I don't know if I can survive this HORROR! DYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYING!
MK: Right. There's only one thing you're full of and that requires a visit to your litter box.
BC: I'm not getting any more wet food today, am I?
MK: Nope. But you win an award for effort.
BC: Do the winnings include wet food?
MK: No.
MK: Snuggles?
BC: Hmph. Since you're such a smarty pants, figure out how to snuggle with yourself!

On elimination activities:
BC: Momma? MooooooommmmmMMA!
MK: What's wrong, Bear?
BC: I pooped.
MK: Umm . . . okay. Congratulations!?!?
BC: Aren't you going to scoop my litter box?
MK: Not right this second.
BC: I figured if you KNEW I pooped, you'd take care of it. But you didn't take care of it, leading me to believe you didn't know I pooped.
MK: I appreciate you telling me you pooped - though, no offense, it kind of announces itself. Especially when I'm sitting just a few feet away from your glorious creation.

BC: Momma?
MK: Yes?
BC: I pooped.
MK: Yes, I'm aware.
BC: Okay . . . just as long as you know, I POOPED!
BC: Which is now unsuitable for additional elimination activities.
BC: Momma?
MK: Bear?
BC: I pooped.
MK: I'll take care of it right now. And I'm sure our neighbors are also THRILLED to know you're not stuffed up.
BC: NOO! You broadcast my elimination activities?!?!
BC: THAT'S RIGHT, NEIGHBORS! I POOPED AND I'M NOT ASHAMED! What are you going to do about it?!?!?
BC: Oh. That's why they know. Right.

On Bear being weird:
MK: Bear! Can't I sleep without you being weird?
BC: So I can answer that question, define weird.
MK: You're spying on me from over the edge at the bottom of the bed!
BC: If you didn't want me to watch you, why'd you put the chair here?
MK: Because my bed is pretty high off the ground and I was worried you wouldn't be able to jump up here after your tooth extraction . . . and I didn't want you to think you were alone or that I was out of your reach. So I brought the chair in to make the jump more manageable for you.
BC: I'm a master jumper.
MK: Bear, you couldn't even get in the litter box without a face plant.
BC: That was HOURS ago!
MK: Yes, but you're still just a bit unsteady.
BC: You stayed up with me all night. And we cuddled in the blanket nest on the floor.
MK: Yes. So you didn't have to jump. But you're back to being more yourself and wanting your space. And I went two nights without sleep so I'm tired.
BC: What are you doing?
MK: Trying to sleep! But you flattened on the seat of the chair and you raising your head slowly to peek at me over the bottom of the bed before going back down is FREAKING ME OUT!
BC: Well, abstruse-ze-mom!
MK: I don't know much French, but I think you meant, "Excusez-moi."
BC: What's French? I was pointing out that you make no sense.
MK: If you don't stop, I'm going to go get my camera. That's just about the only thing that stops you in your tracks.
BC: Well, if there was a problem, why didn't you just SAY so! I swear! You humans expect us cats to read your clearly inferior minds! AS IF!
MK: So you care that it bothers me?
BC: Yes. That's the intended reaction. I'm satisfied.
MK: THAT'S IT! That chair is going back where it belongs!
BC: Just TRY to move me. I DARE YOU!
BC: HEY! PUT ME DOWN! Put me down, RIGHT NOW! This is against the Geneva Cat Convention! Against all conceptions of decency! Offends good sense! I'VE BEEN SCREWED! You're a mean TYRANT! Everything always has to be YOUR WAY!
BC: Never mind.

Our set up (before Momma removed the chair because Bear was using the chair to spy on her when she was in bed) . . .

Curious about, but can't quite picture, what Bear's doing? Here's a funny video that pretty much covers it . . . only Bear's ears were straight up instead of slightly lowered to each side . . . NOT my video or my cat, but it at least gives you an idea of what he looked like: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QYan3Bvu6JY&t ... or, with music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LoN5aoqg1kU. To read about the events surrounding Bear's tooth extraction, you can find them here: "Conversations" With Bear Cat: Part 18.

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