NOOOO, Not THAT movie!

I hate this baby movie. The TV has been off a lot lately, which I don't like- I find TV amusing. Still, The Woman puts the Baby Einstein movies on for us sometimes, and I really like it when she does that. They have so many fun things to look at and chase across the screen! It's almost as good as movies that have animals in them!

Too bad that's not what we're watching today...

Today we're watching a DIFFERENT baby movie that is a 'cartoon' instead of real things to watch. It tells short stories. "Cat. The cat is red. The cat walks. The cat walks quickly. Cat." You get the picture. Now the woman (not The Woman, the one in the TV) is saying stuff about birds, but I don't see birds on the TV, just some shapes. And "Cat" isn't there, so there's no chance of seeing some sweet hunting action, either.

That gives me an idea, though... If I made baby movies, I could teach them good stuff.

"Cat. The cat is majestic. See the cat hunt birds. The cat is fierce. Look, but don't touch. Cat."

"Dog. The dog is dumb. The dog slobbers. The dog likes to play in traffic. Go dog, go play. Dog."

I think I might be onto something, here! I could end up with hordes of baby-slaves, who will grow up to serve me and all cat-kind! We would live in their houses, and they would feed us, and love us, and we would never have to work again. It's brilliant!

Oh, wait... That wouldn't be different, would it?

CATS RUUUULE!

A Great Adventure

I'm hunting. Stalking my prey. It's tiny, but fierce. I'll have to be cautious.

There- see it? Right there in the middle of the kitchen floor. It's not moving; purr-haps it thinks it's camouflaged against the dust on the floor. Clearly my prey has underestimated the keen senses of the mighty Charlie Cat. I slink closer on my belly, totally silent. Closer, closer. I ready a paw to strike...

POW! And there it goes! Skitter skitter skitter, right across the kitchen floor. It's faster then I expected, but it's not fast enough!

PAT! goes my paw again, and off goes my prey, trying a different escape route. Foolish thingy, don't you understand that there IS no escape? You are doomed. DOOOOOMED! I bounce and pounce after it- no point stalking now, the gig is up. My prey knows I'm coming. I can almost hear its heart pounding in fear. Time to meet your maker, tiny thing!

One more good swat with my mighty puffy-paw, and- hey! Where'd you go? HELLO? MRROW?

Crap.

Now I have to wait for the kid to drop ANOTHER Cheerio for me to hunt!

Babies, and Charlie's Theory of Hands

There's a Baby on the floor.

It's not my People's Baby, either. It's the little girl Baby that comes to my house sometimes for the day. I don't know why its mother leaves it here and then comes back for it; is she indecisive? Is it here to play with our Baby? Do I really care?

This one walks on 2 feet like big People. My Baby- I mean, my People's Baby- is still satisfactorally quadripedal, but I'm noticing more tendencies toward two-footedness on a daily basis. This disturbs me; I thought he was going to be a NORMAL critter. He's still a friendly little thing, though, and I guess that's what's important. The advantage to People having hands instead of lovely front paws, of course, is that they can use them to give lovely rubbins and massages to cats. In fact, I'm pretty sure that Hands are the result of selective breeding; we Cats needed People to be able to rub us and also to open cans and bags of treats. And open doors.

What was I saying before I was explaining my Theory of Hands? Right... the babies. Well, I think they're OK, but many of my Catster friends would disagree. Some cats run and hide from them because Babies like to grab and pull and smack. I personally (or felineally) figure, "Hey, it's attention. I'll take it where I can get it!" Sometimes this Girl-Baby wants to give too much, and I get cornered under a chair or in a corner, but The Woman usually calls her off, and then I can escape to the kitchen. I don't like having to jump over the Baby Gate to get to my food and Crappe Chateau (litter box to you), but I have to admit that it makes a handy escape route.

So the little critter is asleep here on the floor, splayed out on my kneading-blanket. Well... I say it's mine, The Woman says that it was a gift for the Baby, and I just borrow it sometimes. This has led to some serious disagreements, which generally end with me being picked up and dumped off the blanket.

Grrr... there are disadvantages to them having hands...

Well, all's quiet, so I'm going to use this time to go lick my arse. The People like to call it "playing the cello," because apparently that's what it looks like I'm doing. Whatever. Then I might go into the bedroom and wake The Man up to gicve me love. The Woman is up and available, and that's exactly why only The Man will do.

I love messing with their big heads!

Charlie Hits the Big Time


Good eeeeeevening.

Thank you for joining us for the premiere episode of "The A-Mewsing Life of Charlie Cat." Some of you are familiar with my work; I've been posting my diary on Catster.com for some time now, and I'm running an advice column on their forums page, in order to share the vast and incomprehensible knowledge that's jam-packed in this little skull. Have no fear- I'm going to keep up with those ones. But now I've hit the big time; The Woman said that I've shown enough dedication to my craft that I deserve a REAL blog of my very own.

A Woo-Hoo!

[Charlie rolls on the floor, purring]


ME

For those of you who don't know me yet, here's the scoop (and not the litter box scoop, either. That scoop is crusty and gross): I'm about 5 years old, which The Woman says is "old enough to know better," but I say I'm a swingin' twenty-something in cat years, and I'm gonna live MY life the way I want to, and no old farts are gonna stop me! If that means catnip all night and sleeping all day, then that's how it's gonna be.

I'm a handsome Puss, and brilliant. And humble.

MY FAMILY

I live with The Woman, The Man, and their Baby. I get along pretty well with them. The Man and The Woman paid for my bail to get me out of the Burlington, ON kitty jail a few years ago, and for that I'm grateful... I keep reminding myself about that when they get on my nerves. About a year and a half ago The Woman started getting really fat (and running out of lap space- I think the two may be connected somehow), and then they got The Baby and The Woman got hippo-suction, or something. Anyway, she lost weight somehow after they got The Baby. The Baby's cool; he walks around on all fours like a decent animal, not like the other People. He likes to pet me, and that's just fine by me! The Woman is less cool, but we usually get along. She's very saucy and doesn't show me the respect I deserve, but she does my secretarial work, so it kind of evens out. I like The Man; he acts like he doesn't like me... I LOVE when People play hard to get!

Hmm, what else do you need to know about me before we get this thing started? I loves me catnip, b'y (that's the Newfie way of saying "I love my catnip") and my fishing rod with the feathers on it- so fun! I have to have special food so that it doesn't hurt when I pee- I'll tell THAT sad tale here one day, too. I require much love, and I don't understand why they won't just give it to me in the middle of the night when I yell instead of SHOOTING me with the WATER GUN!!! I like to eat baby food. I am declawed and pissed off about it. I hate car rides, the vet, and cages. I also hate other cats being in my yard- just BUG OFF ALREADY! I talk a lot.

I'm going to bed. That was exhausting.

Purrs!

-Charlie