THE "D" WORD

As a cat of my particular stature, the traditional four letter "D" word (for those of the feline persuasion - "dogs") is usually nothing to get my tail in a twist about. This past month, however, Big Ug has committed a horrible crime against nature...my nature that is, and has decided to put me on a diet! Who is he to say that I have crossed over from the merely big boned to portly pot bellied puss? He has some nerve! He is rationing out my cat food with all the generosity of a concentration camp cook. AND he is practically guarding the pantry door night and day to make sure that no one of a more reasonable mind and sympathetic bent (Boss Mama) can slip me some snax! What up with that????? I think I may have to show him how much I appreciate his "concern" for me by hacking up a few well placed hair balls. Or maybe it is time for "furry ties" to become a hit at the office. I don't know what to do, but I am working on it. It's time I get back that other "D" word that defines my proud species. "Dignity". (Or is that Dinner?") Oh I don't know...my mind is week from lack of nourishment!

I am going to have to take extra naps now, to help my body cope with this abuse.

Good....zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

What is THAT?

Okay, so this week something unpleasant happened. A tall stranger brought something nasty to the door, and the two young horizontally impaired took it in! Can you believe it? It was small and furry and totally foreign. Okay so it was actually not that foreign...it was a kitten, but I could smell the minute they let that thing in that it was trouble with a capitol K. So I did my best to discourage any pleasant interchange by stalking the small interloper and hissing loudly. This brought out it's true unpleasant nature and pretty soon it's claws came out. "See" I tried to say with my hypnotic stare, but all I got from the immature humans was "Puff, stop it, your bothering the poor thing." The "poor thing?...the POOR THING?!" I went slinking off into the bedroom to think up plan B, when to my delight, Boss Mama stepped in and insisted that the fools search the neighborhood for any one who was missing a kitten. All I can say, is that if that tiny bundle of terror ever finds herself "lost" in our tree again, she had better watch out. There is only room for one kitty-kat in this family.

I am so upset I think I will go and scratch some sofa and then take a nap on Big Ug's bed and share some of my soft downy coat with the underfurred creature. The humans must constantly be reminded of my greatness.

Meow for now, and just say no...to kittens! (Except for me, of course. Puff the Magic Kitten!)

Three things I Luurrve and then Three things I haaaate (hiss/claw)

1.The cat comber....purrrrrrr..oh yes right there by my tail please!
2.Sunshine on my kitty bed...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
3.Kibble, and more kibble. All the time, anywhere. No cat should EVER have to be without it!

1.The Sucking Machine of Doom...it must die!Die I say!!!!!
2.People NOT paying attention to Me...Hello, yeah I mean you!
3.Playing "dress up" (although I do look good in the sunglasses!)

So yesterday, I decided to have a little outside adventure. I like to take these once and a while and improve my ninja cat skills, like stalking grasshoppers and climbing up trees in three single bounds etc. though I am still working on the climbing down part. Anyway, my humans so tactlessly decided to leave whilst I was having some fun in the sun. (I might try to scratch the couch later to let "boss mama" know I am displeased with this behavior.) This means that I am stuck outside for a period of time that no decent indoor cat should have to endure...a whole hour!
Continuing on with my story, there I was all alone-y in the big out of doors, so I thought i might go and visit the clown canines that live in the back yard. Of course I hopped the fence in the twinkle of a cats tail, probably making the beastly tongue lollerers jealous. For no sooner did I pounce down than Itty Bitty BoBo starts barking and running strait at me. Normally, I would just sit on her for a while to show her who is the badder and bigger furry friend, but she had Big Bad Bobo on her side and despite my extreme cat-abilities, I know better than to tango with two tails of furry. So I sprinted across the yard faster than a speeding hairball and clambered deep into the hole that the former resident clown canine (who actually had the sense not to chase superior beings i.e.cats) had dug underneath the porch stairs.
This is no ordinary tunnel...but a deep, dark scary place where slimy, creepy things might live and even Itty Bitty Bobo, who loves to dig, won't venture into it. There I was all forlorn and without a human in the world to save me. The Bobo twins panted at the entrance for a while and we exchanged some paltry insults, but pretty soon they wandered off looking for pee-mail and other such disgusting doggie interests and that is when I felt really frustrated. No one was paying attention to ME!
After about a million minutes, the younger two footers that I live with finally returned. They were outside bouncing on the giant black round thing...which I am curious about, but fear it might be a secret cat death trap, because I put a paw on it once and felt compelled to cling on for dear life as the surface is not stable. It moves. Anyway, I could hear them laughing and shouting as if they didn't have a care in the world! But they did! Their special kitty was trapped in a vortex of darkness. So I had to let them know that they should not be happy and care free...no! They needed to save me. It took about two good Meows, before they scrambled down and found my location. They started calling my name and running about trying to get the big two footers to help them rescue thier fearless leader, me. Of course, now I had a plan. I wasn't going to come out until they offered me some snacks. So I sent them this message via my hypnotic powers. I stared at them with my amazing blue eyes, and simply thought the words, snacks...must have snacks.
In the end, the adventure turned out to be pretty interesting and quite tasty. The moral of the story is...why treat two dogs in a bush when you can treat one cat in a hole?

Okay, so yesterday was a bad hairball day for me. There was thunder and lightening and rain, and my claws got stuck on the swizzle stick. AND on top of that the alpha female, aka "boss mama" felt the need to push the giant sucking machine of death around for about three hours! What can I say...even a cool cat like me can only take so much.

So today is a brand new day, or in cat years probably week(s). I should know this, being a cat, but you have to remember that us felines also have nine lives, so there is some multiplication and division that has to go on, and who has time for that when there are flies to chase and snacks to to be won and, of course, naps to take. I am a one day/week(s) at a time kind of cat anyway. Carpe dium...hmmm a nice carp might be nice now that I mentioned it.

Well, thank goodness that today is a little better. I even got some new litter in my kitty tray. Hooray! What larks...I think I will go and create a "sculpture" in my fresh sand garden, though I am sure that my humans will only stick their noses up at it. They just can't appreciate the amazing abilities that I have.

Cat Snacks to all!

The Cool Cat in Towne

Notice how I spelled towne with an "e"? That is because I am no ordinary four footer. Oh no, I am, it has to be said "the cat's meow, the feline-ist with the finest, the who's your daddy catty, puss with a capitol "P." That stands for Puff the Magic Kitten, that's me; Caticus Extraordinarious. If I were a human and I were in a good mood, I might let you call me P-kitty, but I (luckily) am not. So let's just stick with Puff for now.

Okay, okay, so I do have my other alias's what cat doesn't? Aren't we always supposed to be contemplating the thought of our names after all? (see T.S. Elliot...and you thought I was a stupid animal...for shame.) Some of the other great monikers I go by are "the Great White Puffalo" and "PuffyP. Puffington." Sometimes, after doing my private business, the tall, hairy two footer in the house (Big Ug) calls me a name that I'd rather not mention. But later he goes in and removes the source of the (supposedly offensive) odor anyway, so I am certain that he is still under my spell. Who wouldn't be? I am after all...oh yes I already mentioned that.

I am tired now, so I must take my afternoon snoozle. You may visit my site again tomorrow, where I might have more exciting news and facts about myself and maybe you can be my web friend/slave.

Look! A nice patch of sunshine has decided to shine on the couch just for me!...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Today