"Conversations" With Bear Cat: Part 25

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. Did you miss any of the daily "conversations" from the last two weeks? These "conversations" (posted below), include all the usual snarky and dramatic randomness on both sides.

The other blog posts in this cycle, if you missed them: Sunday Selfie #2 and Sunday Selfie #3
Sunday Selfies is a blog hop hosted by our friends, The Cat on My Head; these posts are our entries for that blog hop. 

See the previous collections of shorter "conversations," like the ones posted below: 

BC: Bear Cat
MK: Momma Kat

Here's the collection of shorter dialogues from the past two weeks (in order from most recent to oldest):

Loud, proud ... and blunt:
BC: Do you mind? I'm grooming my unmentionables. The LEAST you could do is look the other way and give a cat some privacy.
MK: Why do you get all modest all of a sudden? Why don't you just call it like it is and say "I'm licking my butt!" I mean, if you're going to do it without abandon, in the middle of the family room all loud and proud, you might as well just be blunt.
BC: Nothing about me is blunt. My fangs aren't blunt. My claws aren't ...
BC: RATS! My claws ARE blunt. But only because you clipped my claws. TRAITOR!
BC: MY chair.
MK: This is a record, EVEN FOR YOU!
BC: What's your problem now?
MK: I got up less than ten seconds ago to grab a yogurt from the refrigerator ... less than TEN SECONDS, Bear ... and I come back to find you occupying the chair I'd left LESS THAN TEN SECONDS BEFORE!!!
BC: I think the operative concept here is "occupying." I was here first. The chair was empty when I took possession. You snooze you lose.
BC: No! NO! You choose moos, you lose! You choose chews, you lose!
MK: Oh, so NOW the chair means so much to you? After all the ripping and shredding you've done WHILE I'm sitting in it?
BC: I don't see what the one has to do with the other.
MK: Your cat tree is the nicest and most pristine ... and by that I mean UNCLAWED ... piece of furniture in this house!
BC: Why would I want to destroy my favorite piece of ...
BC: I'm not moving. I suggest you live with it.
MK: Do I have a choice?
BC: No. I make the choices around here.
MK: You don't say.
BC: I DO say! Aren't you listening?
MK: I'm going to go stick my head in ... in ... oh hell. Like I know!
BC: Sticking your head where it doesn't belong? Is that any way to deal with your problems?
MK: Are you admitting you're a problem?
BC: I ... err ... YOU ... umm ... uhh ... I'M NOT MOVING!
MK: {mumbling to herself} All I want to do is eat my yogurt in MY desk chair ... IN PEACE! But NOOOOO ... I get Mr. Snarky TOUGH PANTS. Sheesh. {In a mocking voice} "OOOH! I make the choices around here!" 
BC: You don't have a desk chair. 
MK: Yeah. Thanks for pointing that out.
BC: But you do have me.
MK: {sigh}. Yes. 
BC: You're welcome.
MK: I love you, Bear.
BC: I'm not moving.
MK: I wasn't expecting you to.
BC: Oh. Huh. I love you too, Momma. But I'm still not moving.

Bear's job:
BC: Momm ...
MK: Wait, what?!?!
MK: Don't want to know WHAT?
BC: You're obviously BUSY with your iniquitous activities.
MK: What are you talking about?
BC: I don't want to know why the first thing I saw when I walked into the room was you waving a bra around. I'll be under the bed until you're done.
MK: I wasn't WAVING it around!!!
BC: Semantics don't matter. I don't want to know!!!
MK: I'm altering it! Sewing!
BC: I DON'T CARE!!! If your bra is not ON YOUR BODY, under your shirt ... I DON'T CARE! I DON'T WANT TO KNOW!!!
MK: You act like I'M the one running around talking about being sexy and demanding that people acknowledge how sexy I am!
BC: You're just jealous because you're not sexy.
MK: Then stop accusing me of iniquitous behavior!
BC: Then stop doing ... doing ... hmm. You have no life.
MK: You set me up, didn't you?
BC: Hehehehehe. 
MK: Cuddles?
BC: Not until you put your undergarments where they belong.
MK: This isn't the bra that I'm wearing!
BC: Well I think THAT'S obvious!
MK: No. I meant ... oh hell. Never mind. I'd show you, but ...
BC: MIND BLEACH! LOTS of mind bleach!!!
BC: Never mind. There's not enough mind bleach in the world for that.
MK: Says the cat that's always barging in on me in the bathroom.
BC: I have to see if anything's going on of which I'd like to partake.
MK: Like iniquitous activities?
MK: {sigh} Nooo. I was commenting on the types of activities of which you'd like to partake.
BC: I've never seen you empty the shelves above the toilet into the toilet. And I've never seen you bat things into the toilet either. Though I have seen you flush the toilet, so maybe you got rid of the evidence. {GASP!!!}
MK: What? Me what?
BC: Remember when the toilet was clogged?
MK: How could I ever forget?
BC: Last month ... two times the month before ... I get it! YOU were the one clogging it up! 
MK: What?
BC: I bet that's where you put all the cat treats you don't feed me!
MK: Why would I buy cat treats and then flush them down the toilet?
BC: I don't know! Why would you?
MK: Bear. You know how the toilet got clogged.
BC: NO! I know who you BLAMED. There's a BIG difference.
MK: Why would I clog the only toilet in this house, such that I couldn't use it? You wouldn't foul up your litter box on purp ... OH! But you DO foul up your litter box on purpose.
BC: I don't know ...
MK: Yep. EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. after I scoop your litter box, you have to go right away. You almost shove me out of the way to get in there, JUST so you can mark your territory.
BC: If my litter box doesn't smell like me, idiots might use it!
BC: The idiots who clog their own toilet with cat treats so they need to use my facilities!
MK: How many times have I used your litter box?
BC: How's that relevant? You don't use my facilities because I make sure they smell like me!
MK: You're ridiculous.
BC: Says the person who's sitting there waving a bra around like she discovered gold.
MK: I'm ALTERING it because the band is too big, you huge pain in the butt!
BC: That ain't the only thing that's too big around here.
MK: Your attitude? Your bearish, atrabilious attitude?
BC: I'm just living up to my name!
MK: Pain in the butt?
BC: Hardy-har-har .... NOT funny. Don't you have something better to do than annoy me?
MK: You're the one that walked in the room!
BC: You're right. I DO have something better to do.
MK: Uh oh.
BC: Hehehehehe ... oh, crap.
MK: {sigh}.
BC: Wow. That exceeded even my expectations.
MK: Yeah. I didn't need that thing that's now shattered on the floor. Thanks.
BC: {Blowing on his paw hanging in the air} Just doing my job.

Laying down the law:
BC: Now, before you go to the BlogPaws conference, let's go over all the instructions again.
MK: I know! I know! Sheesh!
BC: One more time.
MK: Fine.
BC: Rule number one ... don't assume the sex of anyone's companion animal. You have a BAD, BAD history of guessing and assuming and let's just not insult any more furry friends. We don't have nearly enough as it is. Thanks to YOU, of course.
MK: You act like that happens all the time! Four times, Bear! FOUR TIMES!
BC: Yes. And since the rule was instituted, how many times have you prevented your foot from being shoved in your big beak by NOT assuming?
MK: HEY! It's not my fault! Toby, Kiwi, Dezi, Mason ... even FLYNN can be either sex. We know male and female versions of all of those names.
MK: {sigh} Agreed. No assuming the gender.
BC: Even?
MK: EVEN if I think I know.
BC: Rule number two ... don't ... umm ... be yourself.
MK: Wait! WHAT?!?! Who am I supposed to be?
BC: NOT you!
MK: But ...
BC: NOPE! Eesh. I should know. I have to live with you! Don't go stalking around taking pictures of people! Don't be annoying. TRY not to be nerdy. Did I mention DON'T BE ANNOYING? No singing. No dancing. No iniquities. No crying. No stealing others' desk chairs. Oh. And DON'T BE ANNOYING! For the love of Betsy, whoever Betsy is, ALWAYS WEAR PANTS! And DON'T be annoying.
MK: You act like I'm always annoying! I'm not annoying!
MK: {sigh} Don't be myself.
MK: Don't be annoying.
BC: Rule number three ...
MK: How many rules are there?
BC: Rule number three ... I'm an only child.
BC: No brothers, no sisters, no brothers you think are sisters, no sisters you think are brothers ... NO NO NO. I'm an only child. I don't share. I don't negotiate. No.
MK: You act like it was so hard to share with Kitty! You didn't even share! You just took EVERYTHING!
BC: Exactly. I'm not putting up with any of that nonsense from a little pipsqueak. Capiche?
MK: Fine. No bringing home sisters or brothers.
MK: No bringing home sisters I think are brothers or brothers I think are sisters.
BC: NUMBER FOUR. You represent ME. I am a male princess and I wear a tiara ...
MK: Well, technically ...
{Stare down}
MK: Good point. Act becoming of a male princess. With or WITHOUT a tiara.
BC: The status of the tiara is irrelevant. What matters is how you use the power conferred by the status relegated to you as a male princess.
MK: Represent you. Not me.
BC: Rule number five ... WIN THAT MEOWING AWARD!
MK: Well, I don't see how that's possible. It was determined before I even decided to go to the conference! There's nothing I can do to ...
MK: Bring home the BlogPaws 2016 Nose-to-Nose Pet Blogging and Social Media Award in the Best Pet Humor Blog category. But if I do, you can't touch it.
BC: Who makes the rules here?
MK: Well, you wouldn't want it to get broken! It's not a toy!
BC: My dear lady, EVERYTHING is a toy. ESPECIALLY the things you so selfishly claim are yours.
MK: Is that why my toothbrush is in the toilet?
BC: You're lucky MY toothbrush isn't in the ...
BC: We're done here. BYE!
MK: {mumbling to herself} How convenient.

On "No movey, Momma:"
MK: Wha? Beeeeeeeeeear! Lemme sleep!
BC: I'm hungry.
MK: {snoring lightly}.
{Bear claws Momma's face}
BC: Wakey-wakey Momma! Wakey-wakey! I was TALKING to you when you fell asleep! SURELY you didn't mean to fall back asleep WHILE I was talking to you!
MK: Yeah, yeah, you hungry. Me sleepy-sleepy. Oooooo ....
{Momma's alarm goes off}
MK: (BLEEP) the (BLEEP)!
MK: Grrrr.
BC: Your alarm went off! Don't you think you should get up instead of roll over? Lots to do! Lots to ...
MK: {snoring lightly}.
BC: {clawing Momma's face} Open eyes! Open!!!! Eyes!!! OPEN!!!
MK: Bear! Stop clawing my face and opening my eyes with your claws! I'm not vain, but I'm going to the conference this week and I'd rather not look like my face met the wrong end of a barbed wire fence. What will all the other people ... think ... {snoring lightly}.
BC: {jumping on Momma's face} HIIIII!
BC: I think THEY'LL think you're taken. By a proper cat. WITH CLAWS.
MK: They'll ... who's THEY?
BC: The people at the conference.
MK: Oh, yeah. That's this ... week ... and ... {snoring lightly}.
BC: Your alarm went off.
MK: Yes, I'm aware. I'm so tired ... just a little bit longer ... {snoring lightly}.
BC: Ridiculous! She chooses MY FOOD TIME to sleep! If I just whack her .... just ... right ...
BC: My litter box requires scooping. And I'm ....
MK: {snoring lightly}.
BC: HMPH. I've never been so insulted. The alarm will go off again and then I'll pounce.
{An hour passes, then Momma's alarm goes off}
MK: I'm still tired. Let me get eight hours of sleep.
BC: The audacity of this atrocity!
MK: {snoring lightly}.
{Bear plops his rear end on Momma's face which gets no reaction ... an hour passes and Momma's alarm goes off again.}
BC: Eight hours! It's been EIGHT HOURS!
MK: Beeeeeeeeeeear! Come on! I've been so tired, so stressed, and I finally calmed down enough to sleep! So tired. I'm happily sleepy ... sleeping ... happily ...
BC: I'm unhappily hungry! HUNGRY UNHAPPILY!!! And I pooped in my litter box! POOPED! A BIG poop! A STINKY poop!
MK: {snoring lightly}.
BC: She's dead. Is that what happens when someone dies? They just fail to start? She's turning over! So that can't be bad, right? They say if you can only get it to turn over ... or is that cars? Where's her owner's manual? SURELY it would address this ... MMMMOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMA!
{Silence, except for light snoring}
BC: If I fire her, will that get her "fired up"? Or does that mean I have to start her on fire? Because I'm not allowed to play with matches ...
BC: Or is that WHY I'm not allowed to play with matches ... so she can be selfish and sleep. I don't like this! Hmm ... sleepy ... nothing ... better ... do ...
{Two hours pass}
MK: Arg. That felt good. Bear?
BC: {Snoring lightly}.
BC: HUUH?!?! No MOVEY! No MOVEY, MOMMA! Bear ... Bear ... sleepy ... comfy ... sleepy ... snuggle ... with my  ... Mom ... ma ...
BC: Spend all night ... night ... waking ... you ... {snoring}. No ... movey ...
MK: Huh. Works for me. {Momma falls back asleep with a smile on her face and in her heart}.

On Momma's "crazy:"
BC: What THE CAT?!?!? I QUIT!
MK: What? I NEEEEEED you!
BC: Nope. That's it. A cat can't catch a nap around here constantly being grabbed and ... and ... SNUGGLED.
MK: Oh, come on ...
BC: Nope. I'm cutting off your cuddle privileges. Touch me and die.
MK: Well, that's not very ...
BC: I feel dirty ... I feel ... USED! You don't have time to play with me, but you don't mind just GRABBING me out of the blue and hugging me?!?! What the cat is THAT?!?!
MK: I'm freaking out, Bear! PANICKED! 
BC: That should teach YOU! YOU'RE the one that came up with the brilliant plan to leave me all alone while you go off and romp around with your friends at the conference! When do ****I**** get a conference? When do ***I*** get a break? When do ****I**** get a vacation? When do ***I*** get to romp?!?!
MK: Please?
MK: But the blog's about you! I'm going to tell everyone how wonderful you are!
BC: And yet you're leaving me ***ALL ALONE***.
MK: You'll have the desk chair all to yourself for a few days. And you won't have to worry about me taking pictures of you when you don't want to be bothered. You won't have to worry about me singing or dancing. 
BC: I'm sorry. Why are you coming back again?
BC: Just kidding ...
MK: Awww. You'll miss me!
BC: ... Mostly ... if you never come home, I'll never get the can of wet food open on my own. I should know. I've tried. Maybe you can open a few before you leave?
MK: Bear, I don't think you understand. I haven't had a full blown panic attack like this since your tumor. I've worked so hard to head them off and talk myself down before I lose it and spiral into panic and I can't think straight or focus. Come to think of it ... all my panic attacks in the last five years involve you in some way.
BC: You forgot you were crazy? Because I never forget ...
BC: Err ... {sigh}.
BC: I love you, Momma. Come 'ere.
MK: I love you, Bug. YOU'RE the reason I do this. YOU'RE the whole reason I CAN do this. YOU'RE what makes my crazy not so crazy. Without you, NONE of my life would make sense. Without you, I wouldn't even HAVE a life.
BC: You have a life?
BC: {sigh} You think that'd be worth some treats ...
MK: Uh huh.
BC: {sigh} You can't blame a cat for trying. Especially when you get like this. You get all nutso and all of a sudden the treat gates open wide and nummy deliciousness is mine! USUALLY ...
MK: Yes. Usually.

On not the Momma:
Do you remember the television show Dinosaurs from the early '90s? One of the recurring jokes involves the baby dinosaur hitting the father dinosaur over the head with a pot or pan and saying, "Not the Momma!" So what better way to address Father's Day, for a cat that doesn't have a human father, than to bring back the hilarious, "NOT THE MOMMA!" ... with a tiny adjustment to make it relevant for a cat. If you've never seen the show, here are two clips to get you started: Not the Momma! and Best Of Baby. Two of the baby's other favorite phrases are, "AGAIN!" and "I'm the baby, gotta love me." I can't help but think that Bear's whacky-paws while I'm trying to clip his claws looks much like baby and the frying pan.

MK: BEAR! Stop smacking me in the face with your free paw while I'm trying to clip your claws! Your sudden movement jerks the paw I have and I might cut off too much!
{Momma and Bear stare at each other}
{Pause as Momma waits}
MK: Oh, yeah?
MK: If I'm "not the Momma," then who am I, Smarty Pants?
BC: {WHACK!!!} Not the REAL Momma!
{Silence as Momma and Bear engage in a stare down}
BC: {WHACK!!!} Not the REAL Momma!
MK: OWW! That hurt!
BC: {WHACK!!!} Not the REAL Momma!
{Pause with Momma keeping her head out of whack range}
{Momma moves her face in closer to see the next claw}
BC: {!!!!!!WHACK!!!!!!!} NOT THE MOMMA!
MK: That was quite the wind up.
BC: I'm the baby, gotta love me!
MK: {sigh}. That's enough from Dinosaurs.
BC: See?!?!? I TOLD you I was part pterodactyl.
MK: No, not the real dinosaurs, the TV show. Oh, Never mind.
MK: You're grounded.
BC: You can't ground me because ...
MK: Uh ...
BC: ... {WHACK!!!} You're NOT the REAL Momma!

ps - Momma and Bear's first conversation about dinosaurs included Bear's contention that he's part pterodactyl. To read more, see "Conversations" With Bear Cat: Part 11 {On Momma's age (and dinosaurs)}.

On Bear's naming names:
BC: Bow down!
MK: Excuse me?!?!
BC: The Fexcess has arrived!
MK: Umm ... what are you talking about?
BC: I'm Princess Buttercup Black Bear Cat of the Forest, Feline Expert.
MK: This is getting ridiculous! You can't just keep adding names on to "Bear" whenever you feel like it.
BC: Why not? Beverly Daniel said I could be whatever I want to be!
MK: That's a lot to say at one time, Bear.
BC: No. That's why you may call me Fexcess. Get it?
MK: "Fe" for feline and "excess" for your ridiculously excessive name? That or it's shorthand for saying all cats are the masters of dramatic excess.
BC: NO. "Fe" for feline, "ex" for expert, and "cess" for Princess. Of course, you may also call me, "The Cat Formerly Known as Bear" or "Princess Buttercup Black Bear Cat of the Forest, Feline Expert."
MK: No. That's the first initial of each word in "The Cat Formerly Known as Bear."
BC: Is FEXPERT better?!?! Fexprince?
MK: Maybe you should just stick with, "Bear," or "Pooh Bear." If you want to get fancy, then maybe "Princess Bear?"
BC: Can I call you "The horribly mean Momma?"
MK: You already call me that.
BC: But Beverly SPECIFICALLY said I could be ANYTHING I want to be.
MK: Yeah. About the feline expert thing ...
BC: About what?
MK: You remember how I'd been working offline and before I ran some errands, I thought I'd check our Facebook page quickly?
BC: Continue.
MK: And since I was in a hurry, I read and typed for you since I was in a hurry and it would take you longer to do both ...
MK: Well, I misread her comment. She ACTUALLY said I was the feline expert - not you.
BC: That's crazy! You're not a cat!
MK: I'm aware.
BC: SHE knows you're not a cat, right?
MK: I'm pretty sure.
BC: I thought she was my friend! I thought she UNDERSTOOD me!?!?!
MK: She is! She always supports you, Bear.
MK: What? Why?
BC: That's one mistake TOO MANY! The first time you commented on my best friend Malccy's page, you called him a pretty girl! Then, there was that comment to our friend Phoxy that Magellan was a girl. You totally messed up the Sunday Selfies blog hop for the first two weeks we entered. And now you can't even read a comment correctly?!?! WHY DOES ANYONE READ OUR PAGE?!?!?! I HATE YOU!
MK: So I'm a bit tech challenged ... and a bit challenged when it comes to determining the sex of companion animals ...
MK: HEY! Your male parts weren't obvious! The vet did an entire physical exam and didn't notice you were a boy until they took you to the back to give you an ultrasound because your belly was distended and she thought you were pregnant!
BC: Oh, so now you're insulting my BOY PARTS?!?! First, you insult my essential CATHOOD and then you insult my masculinity?!?! WHY DON'T YOU JUST CALL ME FAT WHILE YOU'RE AT IT!
BC: WHAT?!?!?
MK: Well, the vet DID point out that you're definitely NOT missing any meals the last couple times he examined you.
BC: (BLEEP) (BLEEP) the (BLEEEEPING) (BLEEP)! And (BLEEP) you too! Your mother-meowing (BLEEP) is FIRED!
MK: I'm sorry. I'm not perfect.
BC: Not perfect?!?! NOT PERFECT? You make smart look stupid!
BC: I mean you make smupid look ... 
BC: Oh, (BLEEP)! We're both screwed! I'm taking a nap.
BC: My ... Oh, (BLEEP) off!

*** You can read more about Princess Buttercup in "Conversations" With Bear Cat: Part 22 (On tiaras, part 1 and part 2).
*** For more about how Momma and Bear met (including the mistaken femininity): The good news is your cat is not pregnant . . . the bad news is . . . (or How We Met). Or you can read about the story as Momma and Bear discuss it in Momma's Favorite Story.

On the spice of Momma's life:
MK: Come here, Baby.
MK: {folding Bear in her arms and whispering affectionately} Hey, Sugar.
BC: PUUUURRRRR ... Sugar? SUGAR?!? WHO you calling SUGAR?
MK: I called you Sugar because you're so sweet.
BC: Sweet? SWEET?!?!?!? Let me tell YOU, lady! I'm FEROCIOUS! I bite things and claw things and make ... err ... THINGS regret their existence. Would you like to regret your existence?!?! HUH?!!? MAKE MY DAY!
MK: Says the MALE cat that demands to be called, "Princess Buttercup."
BC: That's, "Male Princess Buttercup Black Bear Cat of the Forest" to you!
MK: I regret ever playing along with this princess nonsense.
MK: Not when the princess' demand is carried out by others. I don't know any princess who's personally beheaded the person she sentenced.
BC: Just because one's a princess doesn't mean HE doesn't know how to kick a little butt when kicking a little butt is required.
MK: "A little butt?"
BC: Oh. I see the problem. BIG butt.
MK: Wait ... WHAT?!?!
BC: Your butt isn't little.
MK: That's NOT what I meant! I meant, "kicking a little butt," isn't scary!
BC: Neither is your big butt. Except for when you're so selfish as to demand we share. Then the size of your butt really matters! IINNNNNNNNCCCOOMMMMMMING!
MK: Well, that's not very nice!
BC: You're the one that called me "Sugar."
MK: Is "Spice" better?
BC: Spice IS nice. Does that mean I can go around saying, "I AAAAAAAMMM SPIIIIIIIIIIIIII-SSSAAAAAAY?"
MK: Never mind.
BC: Is that enough spice?
MK: Plenty.
BC: Is that more SPIIIIII-CCCCCCCY than you can handle?
MK: Why do we even have these conversations?
BC: Would you like a taste of my SPIIIIIIIIII-SSSSSAAAAAAY?!?!
BC: Am I SPIII-SSSAAAAAAY enough for you?!?!
BC: Shall I SPICE up things for you?
BC: Is there enough SPICE in your cake? Is there enough SPICE in your rack? Are you overSPICED?!?! Because I am ALLSPICE!
MK: I quit.
BC: Shall I ICE my SPICE?
BC: Why'd you stop petting me?
MK: Because the PRICE of your SPICE over-SUFFICED.
BC: Huh. No dice on the spice.
BC: Pet me.
MK: I love you, Bear.
BC: Sorry. I couldn't help it.
MK: You certainly are the spice of my life.
BC: Was that a compliment? Because ...
BC: Err ... thank you.

You can read more about Princess Buttercup in "Conversations" With Bear Cat: Part 22 (On tiaras, part 1 and part 2).

On squinty eyes:
BC: I love you, Momma.
MK: I love you too, Bear.
BC: What's wrong with your eyes?
MK: What do you mean?
BC: Your eyes are all squinty. Is something in your eyes?
MK: I'm trying to communicate in cat.
BC: But you're not a cat! You think by stealing our little mannerisms that one day you'll actually BECOME a cat? You think, "Oh! Cats are SO CUTE! SO DARLING!"
MK: HEY! I NEVER use the word 'darling.' Especially in regards to something with fangs and claws.
BC: Whatever. You think if you steal our mannerisms people will think you're cute too? It doesn't work like that! YOU'RE NOT A CAT!
MK: No. I've read from a couple sources that one of the ways cats communicate love is by looking at the objects of their affection with squinty eyes.
BC: Phht. Obviously crap.
MK: Why do you say that?
BC: Why would cats look at themselves with squinty eyes? If you have squinty eyes, you can barely see. And I like to admire my generous handsomeness.
MK: But you sometimes look at me with squinty eyes.
BC: How does getting something stuck in your eyes and squinting communicate anything?
BC: Then again, I could say squinting when I look at you saves my eyes ...
BC: But STILL. YOU'RE telling ME how cats express love?
MK: I'm trying to express it in a way that you'll immediately identify.
BC: The only thing I immediately identified was that there was something in your eyes. Why don't you just stick with cuddles and ear rubs and belly rubs and back scratches and dropping everything you're doing to do any of the above and making me cool new toys and playing with me and setting down towels to keep my paws warm and feeding me lots of fishy and all the things you ALREADY do that show me you love me?
MK: Okay, then.
BC: Psst.
BC: PSST!!!!
MK: Why are you "PSST"ing?
BC: Feeding me lots of fishy.
MK: Yes, Bear?
BC: Playing with me!
MK: {sigh} Yes?
MK: Are you giving me hints?
BC: Phht. Don't be ridiculous. We cats don't HINT. We whack you over the head with our demands until you capitulate and give us whatever we want. Hints are for sissies. And dogs. Though dogs ARE sissies so the latter doesn't really add to the former. Just saying. If you really want to show me how much you love me ... FISHY ... PLAYING! .... EAR RUBS ... not this squinty-eye nonsense. You just look weird. Or should I say weirder than usual?
MK: Great. Thanks.
BC: You're welcome.

BC: I think it's time for me to write another blog post.
MK: Ummmm ... WHY?
BC: Didn't you say my last post, From Momma to ***WINNING***, got more views than all of our other posts combined?
BC: And we all know it was my post that got us nominated and chosen as a finalist for the BlogPaws Nose-to-Nose Awards in the Best Pet Humor Blog category.

MK: Ummm ... which post was that?
BC: Phht. Like you don't remember. I couldn't find it on our blog last time I checked; I bet you deleted it because you were jealous! The one that starts with, "qweasdzxcccccccccccdsaq."
MK: Ah. The one you "wrote" while laying on the keyboard.
BC: Isn't that how you write our posts?
MK: Umm, no.
BC: You mean you purposely type them in?
MK: Yes.
BC: Huh. I couldn't tell.
MK: That's not very nice!
BC: The post I wrote, that got us nominated, was so great, I think "qweasdzxcccccccccccdsaq" should be added to the dictionary AND the thesaurus.
MK: What would the synonyms for "qweasdzxcccccccccccdsaq" look like?
BC: Can I borrow the keyboard?
MK: Okay ....
BC: "Uioplkjhbnmkkljhhhhh" and "nbvcdfgghhjjjuyytrryujhg."
MK: Definition in the dictionary?
BC: "Qwertyuopasdfghjklzxcvbnm."
MK: What about "i?"
BC: What do you mean, "what about 'i?'" Sheesh! Everything's about you! "I this," and "I that," "I,I,I!"
MK: No, you left "i" out of the keyboard!
BC: {sigh} Do I have to explain EVERYTHING to you? No wonder this blog sucks! There's no "i" in "keyboard."
MK: I'm sorry I asked.
BC: What did they teach you in school anyway?!?! You can't even lick your own butt! Or hunt! I have to catch all the mice for you!
MK: Umm, Bear. Those are TOY mice.
BC: All mice are toys!
MK: The toy mice aren't "real."
BC: What do you mean, they "aren't real?" What other kind of mouse is there?
MK: "Live" ones breathe. And poop.
BC: Details. You humans relish the details. A mouse is a mouse.
MK: "Live" mice generally move on their own.
BC: What do you mean? MY mice move on their own! Until I'm ready to catch them anyway.
MK: Right. I forgot you think "hunting" means to tell whatever you're after to run to your food bowl and die.
BC: You act like that's not how it happens. How else does my fishy get there? You don't see me chasing fishy around the house, now do you?
MK: Never mind. 
BC: Your lack of knowledge is troubling. How do you humans survive? You spend all your lives chasing after things when all you have to do is demand they come to you and die.
MK: Noted. So I should stop chasing happiness and instead demand it come to me and then wait for it to die. 
BC: Good grief. You humans are killjoys too! You take things WAY to literally!
MK: Right, Mr. "There's no 'i' in 'keyboard.'"
BC: Where's the "i?" Huh, Ms. Smarty-Pants?!?!
MK: Exactly. There is an "i" in
 hypocrisy. Besides, you chase the flashlight beam like a complete nut.
BC: Whatever. 

On Annoyingness for Dummies:
BC: Don't you have something better to do?
MK: Better than what?
BC: Sitting there and LOOKING at me!
MK: Something better, like what?
BC: HOW SHOULD I KNOW?!?!?! Something out of your book of 'Annoyingness for Dummies!' Surely every human has a copy.
MK: You mean annoyingness like looking at you?
BC: Like ... like ... SHEESH! You humans really DON'T have anything better to do! It's like you were put on the earth just to annoy us!
MK: Says the cat that sleeps sixteen hours a day, gets a kick out of stealing my desk chair as I'm about to sit down, and licks his butt.
BC: What's your obsession with me licking my butt? Are you jealous? Is that what your problem is? Because you're welcome to lick my butt if you want to!
MK: Really?
BC: Of course NOT! My unmentionables are my business! What's wrong with you?!?!
BC: {sigh} Never mind. Don't answer that!
MK: I'm just admiring you! You're handsome.
BC: GO! AWAY! Why don't you go look in the mirror and complain about every white hair you find! Or eat some of your beloved Kit Kats. Or walk into something. Hehe. That's always funny! Smack yourself in the face with my cat toys? Nono. Stand on your desk chair again! TIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMMMMMBBBBBBBBBBBEEEEEEEEEEEEEERR! You know, any of your usual daily activities!
MK: I'm so glad you find me entertaining.
BC: I didn't say that. Or wait ... I guess I did. Because your middle name is NOT 'grace.'
MK: And your middle name is not 'nice.'
BC: What do you mean, my middle name isn't NICE!?!?! YOUR middle name isn't nice!
BC: Hmm. What IS your middle name?
MK: I'm not telling.
BC: Then I'm not telling you MY middle name.
MK: Ummm, Bear?
BC: NOW WHAT?!?!?!
MK: I'm the one that named you.
BC: What's my middle name?
MK: 'Pain in my butt.'
BC: And I thought you naming me 'Lily' was bad!
MK: I was kidding.
BC: Oh. Because it did seem kind of appropriate.
MK: 'Lily?'
BC: Why would 'Lily' be appropriate? I'm not a girl! I meant 'Pain' ... err .. never mind.
MK: Uh huh. Seems like all cats have a copy of 'Annoyingness for Dummies' too.
BC: Don't be ridiculous! Our version is "Advanced Annoyingness."
MK: I'm not surprised.
BC: What's THAT supposed to mean?
MK: I don't know many humans who stick their wet noses in their cats' ears to wake them up. Or try to use their cats as balance beams while the cats try to sleep. Not to mention the extra-super dramatic barfing designed to scare the living crap ...
BC: HEY! It works!
MK: I know.

On the neighbor's dog:
MK: BEAR! Get your little butt back here!
BC: FREEDOM! GRASS BOO-FAY! Haha I snuck past you! BITE ME! I got outside! Na-na-na-na-boo-boo you can't catch me!
MK: {sigh} I'm going to throw the trash in the dumpster. I suggest you find your way to the front door while I'm gone.
{Five seconds of silence}
MK: Oh, for the love of ...
{Shock of silence as Momma ascertains the situation}
MK: There you go, Bear. Stupid, dumb (BLEEP), (BLEEP)ing neighbors! (BLEEP)! (BLEEP)!
BC: That was a close one.
MK: Holy schnikees!
BC: You could have let me in faster!!!
MK: Bear. You were alone for ten seconds max. And I didn't run because I didn't see the pitbull until I was on the stairs to the porch.
BC: DOG! There was a DOG! I bet he was a grumpy dog too!
MK: Yeah. You're not going outside again.
MK: BEAR! Our new upstairs neighbors have a pitbull!
BC: Male cattle? Cattle aren't scary. I EAT cattle. I HUNT cattle. Well, in my dreams I hunt cattle. But that's the same thing. If I'm brave enough to hunt cattle in my dreams, I'd be brave enough in real life. OBVIOUSLY. Just let me at that cattle! HEE-HAW!
MK: I think you mean "YEE-HAW!"
BC: Whatever.
MK: Yes, well, a PITBULL is a dog. And apparently they have no compunction leaving it free to roam on their deck without any supervision or restraint even though it could easily jump off that deck if it wanted to.
BC: I'm not afraid of any measly DOG. Hmph. I could smell his fear!
MK: Yeah, no, Bear. He was growling at me because he thought by going down the stairs to our house I was entering his territory because the entrance to our house is under his deck.
BC: HIS territory? That's MY territory! MY grass! MY bushes! He doesn't OWN anything!
MK: Yeah, Bear. No. You DO NOT want to mess with that dog.
BC: You're right. I don't want to mess with ANY dog. So beneath me.
MK: Bear, that dog was free to roam on a deck it could have easily jumped off if he felt like a snack. Especially since the deck is about ground level to the courtyard which is above the level of our entrance.
BC: Well, that makes sense. I'd jump off a deck for a snack. And why are you giving dogs snacks now?!?! You better not be giving him MY snacks!!! I don't even get my snacks!
MK: Umm ... YOU'D be the snack.
BC: What do you mean I'D be the snack?!?! YOU'D be the snack! YOU'D ... oh.
BC: So you mean I wasn't overreacting this time?
MK: I don't know, Bear. I don't know the dog. All I know is that there was an unhappy dog on the deck above our porch and that unhappy dog wasn't restrained or supervised and could have easily jumped off the deck. Let's not test the theory.
BC: OBVIOUSLY. Can I go outside?
MK: Because there's a dog!!!!
BC: What do you mean there's a dog?
MK: Why were you meowing at the front door?
BC: There was a ...
BC: Oh. But that's my yard!
MK: I know, Bear. It's not fair. But I don't trust our neighbors. They've been nothing but jerks since they've moved in and I'm not about to risk either of our lives if they aren't responsible dog owners. Seeing as though they're not responsible in any other facet of their lives, I'm guessing they haven't properly trained the dog either which is the real risk - more than breed. I'm so mad at myself because that could have ended really badly. Ten seconds is too long. I thought I knew all the risks in the neighborhood, but I don't. And this isn't one to play around with. I'd never forgive myself.
BC: But YOU go outside.
MK: Yes. I'm sorry it's not ...
BC: He could hurt you!
MK: Aww. You're worried about ME!
BC: How would I get my wet food?
MK: Great. You're worried about my thumbs.
BC: {GASP} He could eat your thumbs?!?!? I'll never have wet food ever, ever, again!!!! And what if you couldn't pet me anymore? I'd be SCREWED!
MK: I am so stupid! STUPID, STUPID, STUPID!
BC: WHAT!?!?!
MK: I've been lulled into a sense of safety thinking I know the risks and that you're safe for ten seconds while I get the mail or toss the trash. Just because I'm responsible, doesn't mean other people are responsible and we're safe. NOW I know.
BC: Know what?
MK: Never mind.
BC: Yeah. You're right. I probably already know it.
BC: Can I go outside?
BC: WHAT?!?!? Why are you looking at me like that? Geez are YOU grumpy!!! You act like something horrible almost happened to me!!!

On choices (Sunday Selfies #2):
MK: Come on, Bear! PLEASE!?!?!
MK: I thought you wanted to be a star!
MK: Can't I just get one good picture?
BC: I hope you die a horribly, HORRIBLY PAINFUL death!
MK: Well, THAT'S not very nice!
BC: Don't you have something better to do? Like run over a puppy or kick a roaming chicken?
BC: Hmmm. Actually, can you run over a roaming chicken and kick a puppy?
BC: Yeah, yeah. I know. But a cat deserves a little entertainment and a little sustenance. 
MK: I just want one picture!
BC: I don't work for free you know.
MK: I feed you.
BC: Not nearly enough.
MK: Come on, Bear! I can't always bribe you with treats to get you to sit still long enough to take a picture!
BC: Why can't you always bribe me?
MK: I feel ... I don't know ... dirty. 
BC: Bribing me makes YOU feel dirty, yet I'm the one who's supposed to put out for a few measly treats?!?! I feel cheap.
MK: And I worry about the effect on your weight.
BC: Choices, choices. A fat cat and pictures or a starving cat and no pictures.
MK: You're handsome. Not so much starving.
BC: You get all uppity when I suggest running over a roaming chicken or kicking a puppy, yet you torture me by following me around with a camera?
MK: You could just let me take a picture and be done with it.
BC: I don't work for free.
MK: Yeah. And then I have to cleverly crop the picture so the treats don't show!
BC: Take my temperature if I care.
MK: Come on, Bear! We need a picture for Sunday Selfies!
BC: Not my circus, not my monkeys.
BC: I want you to know someone cares, not me, but someone. Maybe.
MK: Where are you going?
BC: Privacy.
BC: DO YOU MIND?!?!? I'm trying to catch some sun and watch my domain! Get that camera ... (BLEEP) off! I really hate it ... (BLEEP) (BLEEP) (BLEEP) the (BLEEP)ING (BLEEEEEEEEEEP)!
MK: Natural light. Not bad.
MK: Good enough.

Bear's Note: No Mommas were hurt in the production of the Sunday Selfies. {LIAR!} Err ... hurt PERMANENTLY. {BITE ME!} I ALREADY DID! Now STOP interrupting!!! Want to see our Sunday Selfies? Sunday Selfie #2.


  1. You are quite the chatterbox Bear :) I remember that show with the Dinosaurs, and "not the mama"- too funny. :)


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