"Conversations" With Bear Cat: Part 22

Ever wonder about what conversations occur in the Momma Kat household? Did you miss any of the daily "conversations" posted to our Facebook page within the last two weeks? Included in this cycle: the series about tiaras (and the announcement of our finalist status in the Best Humor Blog category of the BlogPaws 2016 Nose-to-Nose Awards)trickle-down histrionics"Savagery for Dummies," and, as usual, lots of other snarky and dramatic randomness.

See the previous collections of shorter "conversations," like the ones posted below: 
Part 1Part 2Part 3Part 4Part 5Part 6Part 7Part 8Part 9Part 10Part 11Part 12Part 13Part 14Part 15Part 16Part 17Part 18Part 19, Part 20, and Part 21.

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

BC: Bear Cat
MK: Momma Kat

quality Momma/Bear time:
BC: I'm going on strike!
MK: Okay.
BC: Don't you want to know WHY?
MK: Not really. Considering your past strikes involved demands for tasty whole chickens, a fish tank in place of a bowl of kibble for "free-feeding," and letting you outside so you could roll in the mud . . . whatever you're striking for probably isn't going to happen. But I bet you're going to tell me, right?
BC: Well, no, not if you don't even CARE! How authoritarian! And totalitarian! And DICTATORIAL! You should never say no before I even ask the question! Don't you care about my feelings? My concerns? My DREAMS?
MK: {sigh} Okay, Bear. Please tell me how you feel.
BC: First, I HATE YOU! Second, you're mean! Third, you don't feed me NEARLY enough! And . . .
BC: Oh. You meant specific to my strike. Not in general. Oops.
BC: I DEMAND more treats.
MK: Right. You get a wet food treat every day.
BC: You have BAGS of treats and I haven't had any in FOREVER!
MK: Yes, well, you haven't been as active in playing with me. You mostly just stare at me. So I'm less inclined to give you treats because I worry about your weight. We finally got you below the borderline and I love you too much to show you how much I love you with treats.
BC: WHAT?!?! Is that some kind of (BLEEP)ed up human logic?!?!? How ELSE are you going to show me?
MK: Petting you every time you come to me for attention. I almost always drop whatever I'm doing to give you attention until you're done. Or how about all the new ways I come up with to play with you and keep you active? The towels I put on the windowsill for winter so your paws wouldn't get cold. Or the towel I put on the bathroom floor JUST for you, so your paws don't get cold while you watch whatever I'm doing.
BC: Hmph. What about Bear's big belly?
MK: I give you tons of belly rubs. Even though you usually don't take them the way most cats do - by laying on their backs and folding up their front paws . . . oh, no. You want a full, DEEP belly MASSAGE where I have to reach between your back legs and you actually lay on my hand in a squat type position so I can rub your belly better. I don't get to actually SEE your belly! And the first time you did it, I thought you were squatting like you do in the litter box.
BC: That's not what I meant! My belly says, "treats!"
MK: Yes, well, if I give you a bunch of them, it will also say, "DIET!"
BC: I want treats! Treats, TREATS, TREATS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
MK: If you got them every day they wouldn't be special.
BC: You get me every day and I'm still special! That's it! I'm only going to be a cat on days you give me treats.
{Momma laughs}
BC: WHAT? WHAT!?!?! What's so funny about my pain?
MK: So you'll only be dramatic, throw temper tantrums, break stuff, be persnickety and cantankerous, scarf down and then yak up your food, and demand you get your way only on days you get treats? Don't you think you'd lose more that way?
BC: Well . . . er . . . but no snuggles! And no purring! No ear rubs!
MK: Enough that you don't want some quality Momma/Bear time?
BC: Yes.
BC: Err . . . maybe!
BC: Oh, FINE! {sigh} Love me if you must! I'm irresistible, everybody knows it! There's no use pretending otherwise. {Sigh} OH! The many burdens of cathood! Maybe you can show me some of that love you're crowing about and give me some ear rubs.
MK: I love you, Bear.

On tiaras - part 1:
BC: Momma?
BC: MOMMMMMMMMMMMMA!?!?! Are you alive? It would just figure you'd croak FIVE MINUTES before my food time! It won't be long and I'll join you! I already feel the life forces of fishiness leaving my sexy body!
MK: Umm . . . huh?
BC: Thank the kitty gods! I won't starve . . . today! What's wrong with YOU?
MK: I'm a bit stunned.
BC: I didn't whack you THAT HARD with my tail! You were just nattering on about random stuff so I got in position and WHACK! For once, you actually stopped talking and then went in some kind of weird trance!
MK: That's because I was reading an e-mail over the butt in my face.
MK: It appears we're a finalist.
BC: Did we win a million dollars? Because you promised if we ever had a million dollars you'd buy a tasty whole chicken farm!
MK: No. No money.
BC: Because of my handsome buttocks? Did I win a beauty contest? IT'S ABOUT TIME! I've been telling you ALL ALONG how handsome and sexy I am and you just shake your head and mumble to yourself.
MK: Not a beauty contest.
BC: WHAT?!?! No tiara? I want a tiara!!!
MK: Hey! You're the one who refused to wear the swimsuit! And I also had concerns about the interview portion . . . you're kind of prickly sometimes.
BC: Prickly! Prickly?!?!? I'll show YOU prickly!!!
BC: I just proved your point, didn't I?
MK: Yeah.
MK: We're a finalist in the Best Humor Blog category of the BlogPaws 2016 Nose-to-Nose Awards.
BC: Wait, wait . . . best humor blog?
MK: So it says. I'm a bit gobsmacked. Here! Look at this fellow finalist! This is AWESOME stuff! And this one? My status doesn't even make sense because, compared to the other finalists, my writing is amateur and humble at best.
BC: So the winning is based on YOUR writing?
MK: Yes.
BC: I'm SCREWED! When I was homeless and looking for a forever home, I should have asked everyone in the neighborhood for a writing sample before casting my lot.
MK: We ARE a finalist though. Unless of course we're notified there's a scoring error . . . which I'm anticipating.
BC: ERROR? We're finalists based on MY fabulousness! All you do is write exactly what I say and make the presentation somewhat pretty! If your writing weren't involved, they'd have already declared me the winner! You clearly lack confidence!
MK: That much is true.
BC: So you admit that you lack confidence in me! I KNEW it!
MK: I meant I lack confidence in myself, Bear.
BC: What do YOU have to do with it?
MK: I just can't believe . . . I mean I'm just tiny peanuts . . . there MUST be some mistake . . .
BC: What? You're HUGE peanuts, Momma! You could win awards for your nuttiness. How come you never nominate yourself for nutty awards?
MK: Yeah, thanks for that. But not exactly what I meant.
BC: Can I have a tiara? I want to show off around all my friends.
MK: I'm pretty sure your toys already know you're royalty.
BC: My TOYS?!? I have other friends! Err . . . umm . . . hmm. That's inconvenient. I HATE YOU!
MK: I love you, Bear. I'm so glad you're getting the recognition you deserve. I've always known you're special, but now everyone will know how a once homeless kitten changed everything for me. I might have given you a home, but you've rescued me every day of the ten years since.
BC: I . . . you . . . I HATE YOU!
MK: I'm aware.
BC: Why do you make it so hard to argue with you?
MK: Because I love my snuggly kitten with a bear-sized heart.
BC: Yeah, yeah. Don't forget the bear-sized cattitude!
MK: Like you'd let me.
BC: I love you too, Momma.

More information on BlogPaws:

Want to partake of the awesomeness of the other finalists in the "Best humor blog" category (and yes, they are all cats!)? Here they are: Erin the Cat Princess, GLOGIRLY - Tails Of A Cat And Her Girl, and Nerissa's Life. We can never have too many friends . . . especially of the funny feline variety.

On tiaras - part 2:
BC: Did we get my tiara yet?
MK: Bear, being named a finalist in the Best Humor Blog category of the BlogPaws 2016 Nose-to-Nose Awards doesn't come with a tiara.
BC: Do I not get a tiara because I'm a boy cat? Because that's discrimination.
MK: Maybe a whoopee cushion?
BC: One doesn't wear a whoopee cushion on one's head! Let me rephrase that . . . YOU might wear a whoopee cushion on your head, but Bear does not.
MK: No one gets a tiara, Bear. Though one might wonder why a grown male cat would WANT a tiara.
BC: I want to be a princess.
MK: {sigh} Of course you do. I suppose this is what I get for naming you 'Lily' before I took you to the vet to get you checked out. Along with naming a cat Bear, it's an identity crisis waiting to happen.
BC: All MALE baby! From the tips of my ears to my . . . err . . . NUTS!
MK: Actually . . . about those nuts . . .
BC: Nuts? What nuts? I was trying to decide whether the other end should be my back claws or the tip of my tail.
MK: {sigh of relief at not having to explain what nuts are, much less the absence of said nuts} Of course!
BC: We'll go with back claws. Because the ears are a high point like the tail. So the total opposite would be down and back. And I like the hint of menace by mentioning claws.
MK: Right.
BC: I exude masculinity. Can't you feel the ripples and surges of my raw male virility? But I also want to be a princess. A male princess.
MK: I thought you want to be a black cat.
BC: Obviously. Aren't black cats royalty? I'd be a black cat male princess. Though maybe the reason I haven't become a black cat yet is because I don't have a tiara.
MK: Bear, we haven't won yet. If you read the blogs of the other finalists, you'll see we're unlikely to win.
BC: What do you mean "unlikely?"
MK: I'm not a pro by any means and I suck at photography . . .
BC: I'VE BEEN SCREWED! Of all the people I could have chosen, my hungry homeless cat butt chose YOU to rub up against.
MK: Isn't that special? I mean you DO have a home and a Momma who loves you.
BC: But that doesn't win me a tiara!
MK: Neither does these awards.
BC: Why didn't you say that before?
MK: I'm pretty sure I did.
BC: RATS! I bet it was in the flood of "blah"s I hear whenever you open your mouth. Blah, blah, blah THIS and blah, blah, blah THAT and blah, blah, blah ALL OVER THE PLACE. Then there's Bear THIS and Bear THAT and Bear, Bear, BEAR. Mostly with the word no.
MK: So you hear the word Bear and the word no, but the rest is blah, blah, blah?
BC: Unless 'treats' or 'food' is in there, yes.
BC: Did we get my tiara yet?
MK: You asked me that five minutes ago.
BC: Exactly. I WANT A TIARA! I WANT A TIARA RIGHT NOW! I'm not moving until I get a tiara!
MK: {sigh} POOF! I have your tiara!
BC: What's that?
MK: Your tiara!
BC: I was expecting something more tiara-ish! That's not very shiny. Aren't tiaras shiny?
MK: This is a special tiara. Come here and I'll place it on your head.
MK: In the name of . . . err . . . royal black cats everywhere . . . I name you . . . umm . . . Princess Buttercup Bear of the Forest.
BC: Ooooh. I like that.
{Momma puts the "tiara" on Bear's head}
BC: Tiaras are evil! Bear doesn't like his beautiful plumage disturbed and disheveled.
BC: YOU wear the tiara!
MK: What? Why?
BC: Because my plumage is too pretty to be defiled by the tiara.
MK: Happy?
BC: If you hadn't told me it was a tiara, I'd think you have a post-it note stuck to your head.
MK: Imagine that.

As our long-time readers can attest, Momma isn't beyond making a boob of herself for a laugh, especially if doing so also circumvents a feline temper tantrum when the cat isn't getting what he wants.
Notice Bear's particularly irritated look with the discarded tiara . . .
And like a true best friend, Malccy's Moments came through for Bear with a real tiara. After a proper tiara-ing and an intense hour of issuing orders in the name of Princess Buttercup, Bear passed out on his cat tree.

On feline "readiness:"
MK: What's wrong, Bear?
BC: I just got this e-mail from some woman with a subject line of "my pussy is ready." What does that mean? Ready for what? Am I ready, like this woman's cat? And if I am, why aren't you e-mailing people about it? Why would humans even notify each other when their cats are ready?
MK: {sigh} And you still read all the messages in our spam mailbox.
BC: Someone has to! We might miss something important! So far, it was ME who found out we won the African lottery, and ME who found the marriage proposal from the Nigerian prince, and ME who discovered a blonde cougar wanted to meet us tonight . . . well, three months ago, tonight.
MK: And none of those things ever happened.
BC: Because you deleted them! You were the cheapskate who  wouldn't send them the TINY amount of money they requested so we'd get the HUGE amount in return! And NOW I find out that you're not even telling people when I'm ready!
MK: {a bit frustrated} The word "pussy" might have meanings other than 'cat.'
BC: Like what?
MK: Crap, Bear! I get frustrated and the next thing you know I say too much and I'm in ANOTHER predicament where I have to explain something I don't want to explain.
BC: Pussy means 'crap'? Why would someone send out an e-mail announcing crap was ready? And who thought up that pussy could mean a cat or crap! Cats and craps are TWO TOTALLY different things! I'm insulted! Cats and craps don't even belong in the same sentence . . . unless "litter box" is accompanying them!
MK: Oh, Bear . . .
BC: NO! Comparing cats and crap is full of pussy . . . crap!
MK: I don't know what to say to that.
BC: You could start with the answer to this question, "Am I ready?"
MK: No, I meant I wasn't sure what I should say from the multitude of things running through my head after your comment . . . sarcasm, humor, irony . . .
BC: Your usual tricks of the trade.
MK: Yes. Especially for absurd or ridiculous situations over which I have absolutely no control. And no hope for control because of somecat's unwillingness to listen.
BC: You don't control me!
MK: I'm aware.
BC: I don't want to be ready!
MK: Err . . . what?
BC: I bet that woman was sending out that e-mail to let the rest of you evil humans know that her cat was finally ready to concede its autonomy. Another poor cat's spirit broken at the hands of you rapacious, pugnacious, and imperious humans. Clearly, dogs are once proud, confident, and independent cats turned despondent, squashed of spirit, and inferior-minded. One-time strong spirits now relegated to being "man's best friend." I WILL NEVER BE READY! I will never relinquish my formidable cattitude. Cat on, my feline friends! CAT ON!
BC: Ummm, Momma?
MK: Yes?
BC: Can I have some ear rubs? But only because you recognize my pride, confidence. and independence and respect my formidable cattitude. I am no man's best friend!
MK: Then why do you require ear rubs?
BC: I am no man's best friend . . . umm . . . starting tomorrow.
MK: Deal.

*** For those of you who don't know, 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; for example, Bear thinks a "cougar," is a wildcat, a "pussy," is a feline, and a "booty call," means to fart. You can read about the loss of Bear's internet privileges (due to his spam obsession) here: Bear Loses His Internet Privileges, Permanently.

On the "SNIP!:"
BC: I demand a lawyer! A judge! A NON-STUPID human! Crap. Non-stupid humans are extinct. Oh, kitty gods! Deliver me from this injustice of an atrocity!
BC: At least have the decency not to clip my claws right in front of my face. It's like you're mocking my helplessness.
BC: Rubbing my nose in my blunt claws! The mutation of my furry fury!
MK: Mutation?
BC: No. I meant 'muting' of my furry fury. Without the connotation, I like 'mutation' better.
MK: Yes, though your 'mutated' claw still dug a ditch in my arm.
BC: DO YOU MIND? NOT in front of my face!
MK: Bear, for the love of your murderous intent . . .
MK: Whatever it is, it's hard enough to hold you AND your paw still so I don't clip off too much claw AND clip your claws at the same time. At least WITHOUT losing any part of my body within a foot of your claws and fangs. I can't even imagine the contortions necessary to hide the clipping from your face.
MK: Yes, well, if you could keep your claws to yourself, this wouldn't be a problem.
BC: No. YOU'RE the problem! You're bossy and always tell me what to do! You accuse me of a bunch of horrible things! You make me submit to your will!
MK: Who are we talking about again?
BC: M . . . RATS!!!
MK: Exactly.

On brutal biting:
BC: NO! NO! Don't touch me! DON'T TOUCH ME! You're going to do unspeakable things! I KNOW IT! Nothing good can come of a toothbrush, toothpaste, and acne pads! Over my dead body!
BC: Are you scared?
MK: Not really.
MK: But you did make it to your corner before I caught you.
BC: HA! And I'm not coming out. EVER! Never, ever, ever! Na-na-na-na-na-NA! You can't catch me!
{Pause while Momma goes to the kitchen.}
BC: {ears perking up} HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUH? WHAT do I HEAR?!?
BC: FOOD! FRESH FOOD! FROM THE BAG! IN MY BOWL! OH, numnumnumnumnum tastiness to Bear's big belly!
MK: AHA! Got ya'.
BC: RATS! I make it too easy.
MK: Yeah, kinda.
MK: I'm actually more amused that it's the bag of KIBBLE that draws you out. You don't come out for the wet food anymore - but the bag of KIBBLE? You're all over it.
BC: Hmph.
MK: You know, since you don't think kibble is "real food."
BC: Bear's beloved big belly will always be Bear's biggest bane.
MK: True. Especially because your big belly also causes you to quickly scarf down food which you then barf up.
BC: Bear's big belly's brain bursts for bewitching bread. NO! BACON! Bear's big belly's brain bursts for bewitching bacon. Bear bolts for bacon brummy-ness. Bear bulldozes bacon. Bear barfs. Blundering, boorish, beastly bovine brushes Bear's barbs and bathes Bear's beard!
MK: Bear's bizarre.
BC: Bear blushes. NO! Bear BITES! Bear bites BRUTALLY.
MK: Brutal biting is one way to get me to budge my bias to brushing your barbs.
MK: I bluff. Bereft by-the-book brushing of Bear's barbs, there won't be any barbs left for brutal biting.

On cold blood:
MK: 'IN' cold blood. Bear . . .
MK: Bear . . .
BC: I hate you! I KNEW you had this planned from the very beginning! You were just waiting for me to get fat and aged! Or aged and fat! Now you're going to EAT me! Or turn me into a kitchen appliance!
MK: A ten year plan to eat a cat? Bear . . .
BC: OVER MY DEAD BODY! {GASP} That's exactly what you want!
MK: Oh, for crying . . .
MK: DAMN IT, BEAR! Let go!
BC: You're not crying! Curses on you stupid humans with a high pain tolerance!
BC: Don't ROLL YOUR EYES at me! You act like I'm only being dramatic, but YOU'RE TRYING TO KILL ME!
MK: You see the front door?
BC: It's open! {GASP} NO! You're going to toss me out! You don't want me anymore! I'll starve! Or starve more than I am already!
MK: So you're fat AND starving?
BC: I already feel the life forces escaping!
MK: BEAR! Recently, you've been pawing at the front door for hours every evening. I'm trying to give you the chance to go outside!
BC: But it's still light out!
MK: Umm . . . YEAH. EXACTLY! I hate walking around in the dark to try to get you inside - especially since the yard is surrounded by the retaining wall - it's pitch black.
BC: I hear a dog barking!
MK: You're safe down here, Bear. He can't see you and the yard is enclosed. He'd have to jump off the six-foot-tall retaining wall.
BC: You want me to be eaten by wild wolves! I bet there's a pack of them! Don't they always run in packs?
MK: I think that's the neighbor's dog. Relax.
BC: So you arranged this with him in advance? To make it look like an accidental mauling?
MK: {sigh} Never mind.
BC: You got that right, lady! I'm not falling for any of your tricks to get rid of me!
{Momma closes the front door and locks it.}
BC: Me' oWW' MeoooooooooowwwMA! I want to go outside!
MK: {sigh} No.
BC: I HATE YOU! You NEVER let me go outside! You want to lock me away in this dungeon and throw away the key! I'm imprisoned in captivity!
MK: {opening the door . . . AGAIN} There you go.
BC: Sniff. SNIIIIIIIIFF. NO! NO! You can't MAKE me go outside! BEAR ABUSE! YOU'RE TRYING TO KILL ME! I HATE YOU! You just want to get rid of me!
MK: {Holding the door open} In or out.
BC: {standing in the doorway so Momma can't close the door} Let me think about it.
MK: {sigh}.

On trickle-down histrionics part 1:
MK: Oh, (BLEEP)ing, (BLEEP), (BLEEP) of (BLEEP)!
MK: BEAR! Food time!
BC: You forgot, didn't you?
MK: I didn't FORGET.
BC: Yes, you did. This is why I have to be on top of things and remind you. You always promise you won't forget and tell me I don't need to be obnoxious - but look what happens when I don't follow you around, stare at you from a foot away, and make a nuisance of myself! You FORGET TO FEED ME!
MK: Flukes happen.
BC: Food and flukes don't belong in the same sentence.
MK: You act like you don't have a FULL bowl of kibble ALL THE TIME and you'd starve if I forgot to give you your treat.
BC: And you act like this isn't the second time in three days that you forgot.
MK: I didn't FORGET. FORGETTING means I didn't ever remember. FORGETTING means you go a day without your wet food treat. I REMEMBERED. Just not EXACTLY when I should have.
MK: Bear, you know my schedule changed. You still get your food at the same time, but the routine I'm used to changed. I used to always feed you before my first meal, but now it's after. Just give me a few days to get used to it.
BC: I might STARVE by then!
MK: Yet you have a full food bowl. And you haven't missed a treat.
BC: But I ***ALMOST*** missed a treat! TWICE in THREE DAYS!
MK: But you didn't ***ACTUALLY*** miss a treat!
BC: The art of the technicality . . . no longer just for cats. The peasants continue to encroach on our superior designs.
MK: ACTUALLY vs. ALMOST isn't a technicality!
BC: Trickle-down histrionics.
MK: WHAT? You mean 'economics?'
BC: No. If one were to study your production of services and use of goods, we'd be in a depression. My wet food treat was TWO HOURS late! Not to mention the whacked out supply and demand around here! Everyone knows low supplies and high demands mean high prices! And you wonder why I have to break $#!+ around here to get fed! I'm imposing HIGH PRICES!
MK: That's not . . . oh, forget it.

On trickle-down histrionics part 2:
MK: What's trickle-down histrionics?
BC: What?
MK: Trickle-down histrionics.
BC: What about it?
MK: What is it?
BC: What?
BC: How should I know?
MK: Because you're the one who used the term in yesterday's conversation!
BC: No, I didn't.
MK: Yes, you did.
BC: You always put words in my mouth to make me look stupid.
MK: I do not! If your words sound stupid, it's all your own doing.
MK: {sigh}.
BC: There.
MK: There, WHAT?
BC: Trickle-down histrionics. The gift that keeps on giving.
MK: The gift that every pain in the @$$ bestows on anyone within his path.
BC: Not exactly. I don't get grumpy, dramatic, and argumentative with anyone else.
MK: Is that supposed to make me feel better?
BC: No. Though you could take it as a compliment.
MK: You mean because it indicates you feel safe with me?
BC: No. Because it indicates you're a good target.
MK: Why would I think being a good target is a positive thing?
BC: I don't know. We all aspire to different things in life. If you're striving to be a good target, you've reached your goal. May I suggest a new one?
MK: Oh, no.
BC: You should strive to be flexible enough to lick your own butt.
MK: WHY? What's wrong with my butt?
BC: Nothing. I'm just saying it's a handy skill to have.
MK: Technically, it wouldn't be 'hand-y,' it would be 'tongue-y,'
BC: Add a sense of humor and absence of annoying-ness to your list of aspirations. Actually, kick those up to one and two. I don't care if you lick your own butt, but I suffer when you're annoying and make dumb simpleton-ish jokes.
MK: Would you rather I sing or dance?
BC: Don't even bother putting those on the list.
MK: Why?
BC: They aren't happening. And you'd KILL me trying. I'm MOLTING just thinking about it.
MK: Talk about histrionics!
BC: Ironic . . . don't you think?
MK: WHAT?!?!? Bear?! BEAR!?!? I DON'T GET IT!!!
BC: {to himself} Hehehehehe. EXCELLENT target. Stupid is the new black!

On "Savagery for Dummies" - part 1:
MK: It's a bit nippy in here, don't you think?
MK: Umm . . . oooooooookkkay.
BC: Let me tell you! BITE-Y is what it is!
MK: It's not THAT cold.
MK: That's going a bit far, don't you think?
MK: Umm . . . over the temperature? If you feel that strongly, okay, it's barbarously cold! Snuggles?
BC: If you agree only because I said so, I must not be doing my job! What about BARBAROUSLY COLD prompts snuggling?
MK: Chill . . . shared warmth . . .
BC: YOU chill!
BC: I'm ferocious! NOT nippy! I'm BITE-Y!
MK: Wait a . . . I was talking about the air temperature in here. I wasn't referring to your mood, attitude, or biting capability.
MK: Much.
BC: Much what?
MK: Attitude.
MK: Kidding! Only kidding! You're bite-y! Bite-y to the extreme! The ULTIMATE in bite-y! And you have more of an attitude than any other living thing on this planet!
BC: No. It's not just "an" attitude! It's THE attitude. I have more attitude than anything in the universe!
MK: Well, actually . . . black holes are . . .
BC: Rats!
MK: Err . . . umm . . . okay?
BC: I'm feeling snuggly.
MK: That's okay. Even the most brutish barbarians feel snuggly every so often.
BC: They didn't say that in the instruction manual!
MK: What manual?
BC: Savagery for Dummies.
MK: You're not a dummy.
BC: Well, I know THAT . . . wait a . . . RATS! I got the wrong book! Someone will pay for this!
MK: I'm going to go close myself in the bathroom.
MK: OWW! "Bite-y" it is.
BC: When are we going to snuggle?
MK: Whenever you extricate your fangs from my ankle.
BC: Oh. Right. Sometimes I get distracted.

On "Savagery for Dummies" - part 2:
MK: Let me see that book on savagery you mentioned.
BC: Here!
MK: Yep. It DEFINITELY says, "Savagery for Dummies."
BC: I thought it said, "Savagery for TUMMIES!"
MK: Haha. Could also be, "Savagery for NUMMIES!"
MK: Oh, come on, Bear . . . it's just a LITTLE funny . . .
BC: I want my money back!
MK: Where did you get money to buy a book?
BC: Err . . . RATS!
BC: "Savagery for Bunnies!" Because bunnies are TASTY.
BC: "Savagery for Tommies!" You know, 'cause I'm a TOMCAT.
BC: NO! "Savagery for STUMMIES!" My STUM-ach approves! Bear's big belly STRIKES AGAIN!
MK: I'm waiting.
BC: You were still signed into your Amoron account.
BC: Am I still grounded?
MK: Is there ever a time you're NOT?
BC: Well, no. {GASP}. I'VE BEEN GROUNDED MY ENTIRE LIFE! I've never known freedom! Never spread my . . . er . . . umm . . . whatever cats spread when they take to flight. I've never expressed my essence of cat-ness! Been free to eat my wild oats!
MK: Sow.
BC: Don't "SO" me!
MK: No. You SOW your wild oats.
BC: That's my point! I HAVEN'T!
MK: {sigh} You were STARVING when you were homeless and free to "eat" your wild oats.
BC: I don't remember that. I'm just a con artist. I PRETENDED to be starving.
MK: Except you didn't do that either.
BC: What do you mean?
MK: As long as I was outside, you'd ignore the food and get all the loving you could.
BC: You give good belly rubs. And I have a BIG BELLY!
MK: Then you didn't. When I took you to the vet the first time, you weighed four pounds. You weigh almost fourteen now.
BC: HEY! I don't go telling people that you weigh . . .
BC: You can't ground me for telling people what you weigh because I'M ALREADY GROUNDED!
MK: You act like being grounded changes something.
BC: Have you ever noticed that I do what I want? Clearly I don't fear the consequences!
MK: Yeah, Mr. Tough Pants. Because there never are any.
BC: That's beside the point!
MK: Then what's the point?
BC: I want my . . . err . . . your money back!
BC: Or at least credit against my order of tasty whole chickens.
BC: Have you ever checked?
MK: (BLEEP) it, Bear!
BC: NOW who's the dummy?

"The ultimate ruthless savagery" ("Savagery for Dummies" - part 3):
MK: What are you doing in here in the dark?
BC: My furry fury is smoldering.
MK: Is that smoke coming out of your ears? It's kind of hard to tell in the dark . . .
BC: Amoron won't issue a refund for 'Savagery for Dummies' - UNLESS I return the book.
MK: Well, that seems rea . . . {seeing Bear's less than happy face} . . .
MK: Rea . . . rea . . . RIDICULOUS!
BC: You were going to say reasonable, weren't you?
MK: Of course not! Don't be ridiculous.
BC: I'm never ridiculous. I don't make jokes.
MK: Well, it does KIND OF make sense that to get your . . . I mean MY money back, that they'd want the product back. What's the problem with returning the book?
BC: Because it's useful . . .
MK: Umm . . . .
MK: Let's just talk about this . . .
BC: See? I learned that technique in the book. Chapter two. I don't like what that says about me. Like, "How is it possible that a book for dummies has information that is useful for me?" "Where did I go wrong?" "When did my savagery become so dulled that any idiot could figure it out?" And, "Where did my feline feral fierceness go?"
MK: Bear . . . oh, no . . . not . . .
BC: Chapter four. Is that one OWW out of five possible OWWS?
MK: {Barely squeaking out} What? LET GO!
BC: Like if OWWS were stars, what was the level of OWW on that most recent technique?
MK: I don't know . . . say, err . . . three owws out of . . .
BC: Out of how many?
BC: Chapter eight. I can't return the book.
MK: It doesn't make you a dummy because you find a book for dummies useful. And the title isn't meant literally anyway. It more means, "uneducated on the topic . . . "
BC: Uneducated? UNEDUCATED!?!?!? Has all ten years of furry fury been for naught? Have I become complacent to the point that I'm domesticated?
MK: I didn't mean . . .
MK: {sigh}. You are the smartest savage and ruthless cat!
BC: Yes, but do you FEAR me?
MK: So scared!
BC: You don't LOOK scared. You never LOOK scared.
MK: That's because I'm SO SCARED deep inside that all expression shuts down on the outside . . . to err . . . conserve energy for the deep and overwhelming fear inside.
BC: Really?
BC: Then why do you keep talking? You'd think not talking would conserve energy ESPECIALLY with how much you talk. Blah, blah, blah THIS and blah, blah, blah THAT and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.
BC: Then I don't need this stupid book?
MK: Haha . . . ha . . . {sees Bear's face} That pun was intended, right? Stupid . . . dummies . . .
MK: Right, right. You don't joke. No, you don't need the stupid book for dummies. Of course not.
BC: Hmph. I THOUGHT so. I'm going to write MY OWN book.
MK: Oh, no.
BC: It will require quite a bit of research and testing on my part. You know, to test the techniques and strategies necessary for the ultimate in ruthless savagery. Maybe create a ten-point oww system to yield more accurate oww-iness. Though an oww rating is somewhat subjective . . .
MK: Oh, no.
BC: PREPARE TO DIE . . . in the name of "THE ULTIMATE RUTHLESS SAVAGERY" by BEAR CAT . . . to be available on Amoron or wherever books for those with discerning tastes are sold!

BC: Was that a shameless plug for my book?
MK: Yeah. Kind of.
BC: Good. I thought I should practice so when I DO get my book deal, I'll be ready.

On cattish:
MK: Cheese the butt goat ankle gas huge.
BC: What the heck is wrong with you?
MK: Of liver dead foot people purple in.
BC: Talk normally!
MK: Memory pudding for innocent gnome an ginger.
BC: I REALLY hate when you do this!
MK: Trick with simmer doctor twist liter ocean on miss.
BC: My Momma: finding extra ways to be stupid AND annoying since 1977.
MK: Toast in ghost dog tool feed boost she. Leader your pit.
BC: Bear Cat: putting up with human nonsense in exchange for food, safety, and love since 2006.
MK: Haha! I know! I couldn't have said it any better!
BC: Thank the kitty gods! Are you done MEOWING now?
MK: I think all my practice finally paid off! I bet you understood most of what I said!
BC: Meow, meow, me-ow, meeew-meeeeeoow. 

{Rough translation: you're an idiot with no brains and even less sense!}
MK: I know! Thank you!
BC: {sigh}.
MK: I think I'm ready to "talk" to other cats!
BC: I don't think that would be a good idea.
MK: Don't want to share my amazing cat language ability with other cats?
BC: Errr . . . sure. Just make sure my litter box is clean and my food bowl is full BEFORE you go out and test your "fluency." And stay away from the word, "mro-ow-hiiii." There's no point in testing the goodwill of cats . . . in general, we have very little when it comes to fools.
MK: Why would cats find the word "frog" offensive?
BC: {sigh}.


  1. "My Momma: fining extra ways to be stupid AND annoying since 1977." OH MY MOUSES that's good! Laughed so hard I nearly tripped over my tail. PURRS.


    1. I hope your tail is feeling better after the hammer incident. Sure, tails are part of what make us so adorable and irresistible, but they also tend to be inconvenient and pop up when we least expect it. How many times have we had close calls where our precious tails were ***ALMOST*** stepped on?!?!? :p I'm so glad you understand . . . the struggle is real. ~Bear Cat

  2. Bwahaha! That was some laugh-inducing conversation, for sure! Thank you for stopping by our blog, and for your nice comments. :)

    Congratulations on being a BlogPaws Nose-to-Nose finalist! We're so glad to meet you, too. Making new friends is so much fun!

    We don't have a specific FB page for Animal Shelter Volunteer Life, so what you suggested is the best -- you can point people to the PAWSCT Facebook page, since they are the shelter we volunteer at and blog about. :)

    Have a great night!

    1. Thank you for the compliment and for responding AND for the congratulations. I will point people to the PAWSCT Facebook page; I expect to share (on Facebook) the finalists in the Cause category Friday or Saturday. Thank you for all the work you do and for taking the time to document animal shelter life. We'll also LIKE the shelter's Facebook page :)


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