Now We're Talking.

The Dude, my housemate cat, (also called "Asshole" by the tall ones) was sniffing around in their stuff last night and found this super sweet package of mice. The best part is the cardboard! They took one off for me to play with, but I prefer the wrapping. I guess I did get a Christmas gift after all. Next year, we'll work on that huge cat tower I have been hinting around about.

Here is a sweet video of me showing off my mouse hunting skills last night. As you can see, I am still in my prime and totally capable of catching the real thing. If I wanted to.

Gifts

A pet care manual says: 

"Don't be alarmed when your cats bring you gifts of birds, mice, or other wild critters. This is a natural part of their gift ritual, and they do it to please you."

Reader, although this is a terribly crude interpretation of our cultural traditions, it is true that I have brought the tall ones many gifts over the years. This Christmas, I thought it fair that in return, I should be able to pick my own gift from beneath the tree. 

With careful analysis of the shape and smell of each package, I made my choice. It is only a coincidence that it is the largest gift beneath the tree. I hoped that they might throw in the card as well (it reeks of massage oil, and I could really use a spa day).

I am a patient cat, but I soon tired of waiting for the tall ones to notice me. Insulted, I took my leave.

I shouldn't be so hard on the tall ones. It isn't their fault they don't know how to speak properly, so how could they have understood even my most clear message? I decided to be the bigger cat, and brushed this one off. 

But just for good measure I vomited on their bed later that night.