One Fat Cat With a Blog

Human mom lady found a flea on my belly this morning. A FLEA!!!!!! In all of my dignified, senior house cat years, I have NEVER, EVER and I mean NEVER EVER had a FLEA!!! Psycho Sal E. Cat may have had fleas….if a flea was stupid enough to grace his white fur and claw presence. Dumb Dumb Fluff looks like he should have fleas….but, even he’s never had one in all of his adventures and misadventures in the outside world…The girls have never had fleas…Even the face of stupid, pound hound that surely presents himself as a flea magnet purely by nature of breeding has never been caught red-pawed with a flea.

But, yet, she found A FLEA???? A FLEA ON FRITO????? Now it seems that I have been harboring this blood sucking little vermin for days because I’m having some weird allergic flea reaction. (Mom called it a money sucking trip to the vet for a cortisone shot—but, it’s ME these vermin are victimizing and sucking the Frito-ness out of!!!) Can I help it if I’m a sensitive kind of guy? Can I help it if I respond allergically to trash and vermin invasion? So my lip's a bit puffy and I have skin issues…I am the Soul Cat…I need peace and love….not fleas and grief!

AAAAAGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If I go to the vet for a cortisone shot, I get weighed. If I get weighed, I am the immediate target of diet plan restructuring and the inevitable fat cat jokes. I just went in for my annual ridicule and fat cat abuse session last month…aka the annual kitty “wellness checkup”…I was not supposed to be subjected to the vet calling out the fat cat for MONTHS yet. It’s just not fair.

Who caused this? If not the face of stupid…then I must blame recent house guests. Could my brother’s mum have brought me FLEAS? Nah….not her…My brother Michael is as citified as I am…Oh no….it was the county cousin Shih Tzu! She came to visit…there was talk about a neighbor dog with fleas…there was talk about flea baths.

AAAAAGHHHHHH!!!! I knew I should have chased her to the garage.

Why didn’t Max, the Face of Stupid, chase her to the garage? With that ridiculous hound dog snout, you’d think he could smell a flea from 4 counties over…. Who am I kidding…Face of Stupid evidently holds Snout of Stupid.

I am on my own in this crusade against the dreaded flea. **Note to crazy, flea obsessed, human mom lady….Frito can handle this…no need for trip to insulting vet or to degrading outdoor flea bath….fleas are no match for Frito T. Cat. Really. They aren’t.**

HELP????? I see the outdoor flea bath being readied for one sad big boned city kitty.

Okay, conservative cats—before you go wrapping your tails around your eyes and ears, I’m not talking about THAT kind of pole dancing. If I was talking about that, then the old human mom lady certainly wouldn’t have been as actively participating this morning…the world does not need that kind of entertainment. Trust me. The girls and I got the laugh of the morning when the crazy lady took the pound hound out for his morning stroll. The weather gave us a layer of ice last night and apparently humans and hound dogs aren’t as sure footed as we felines.

The Face of Stupid hit the steps and the sidewalk first—literally. The stupid dog went bounding out the front door right on his face. Luckily for the crazy lady that this happened, because that little misstep slowed him down just enough that she was able to stay upright until she could grab onto the rose bush. Yes. The giant four foot, sticky sticker filled rose bush was a better option than a repeat of the broken tail bone two years ago. This was an utter shock to me and the girls since we did not realize humans had a purpose for a starter tail!

Well, the rose bush is the last point of balance and stability before one reaches the street with mailboxes and street light poles. Hee hee…oh, it was another Looney Tunes inspired morning. Remember when Bugs Bunny was “helping” Yosemite Sam find gold that time. He’d do somersaults and cartwheels and get that crazy look in his eye. You would have thought the lady found gold all the way down the driveway—until the Face of Stupid pulled her into and ALL THE WAY around a street light pole about seven times.

We are not experts in the art of pole dancing—but, if it were an Olympic event we would have given her a 7, 8 and a 9 respectively for technique and creativity. Costume was a little off (we think the droopy sweat pants and 30 pound winter coat may has stifled movement). We even gave the Face of Stupid a 6 for his creative belly slides and side rolls.

I would encourage you to the watch the news in Central Ohio today—I bet there’s lots of creative ice maneuvers out there on video. I wish I had a camera and thumbs with which to operate it this morning, let me tell you.

Be safe; don’t let your humans break any hips. Remember, this may make it easier to be a lap cat—but, trust me; it will be harder to get fed.

This could possibly go down as the first stupid human trick for February in the House of Frito.

Hypothetically speaking, if a cat kills the first robin of Spring, do you suppose Mother Nature retaliates? Hmmm. Yep. I do too. No need to check things out with the groundhog this Groundhog Day, Toms and Tommies—Dum Dum Fluffsy just gave us 6 more weeks of winter—he KILLED the coming of Spring!! It’s bad, I tell you---BAD BAD Predator Cat…wait until the humans hear about it! Oh—and when the little ones find out what he’s done…so long Fluffy D’Tail snuggle time!

What is old Frito rambling about? Oh, nothing much---except the fact that we are finally seeing robins, as misguided and misdirected as they may be to show up in Ohio when it’s below zero, they are ROBINS nonetheless. The bearers of the coming of Spring. Robins make the humans happy—happy humans loosen the strings on the cat food bags and they are a little more forgiving during kitty visits to the vet. So what does Dum Dum do? Oh, he just KILLS and freeze packs a robin—and left a full fledged crime scene for all to see.

Oh, yeah, right on the front step—he even cracked the storm window on the glass door with the head of Spring. (Of course, HE claims that the bird lost its mind and flew into the window….at 18 inches off the ground at THAT force???? He needs to work on that story a bit if he’s going to get it by Detective Mom—she ALWAYS knows what happens around here…and she has this weird third eye somewhere that lets her know not only WHAT happened…but WHO did it.

Then—instead of at least eating it (which I am TOTALLY against for the record) and destroying the evidence; the Fluff-in-Stuff headed buffoon LEFT IT IN THE SNOW…RIGHT IN THE FRONT YARD when he came in for the night. He was safe for the past few days because we got a few inches of snow and the bird was covered….but now we’ve had a little rain and a little thawing…and there’s a tail featherless, frozen bird butt-sicle with two legs sticking up in the front yard! We don’t need more of a sign than that screaming, SPRING KILLER!

Six more weeks of winter…I can feel it in my whiskers…six more weeks of cooped up coon hound…six more weeks of “dress up the kitty in ridiculous dresses”….six more weeks of prying eyes examining every morsel of food I eat…every trip to the litter box. All because of Dum Dum Fluff.

Did we need a psycho killer cat on the outside? Well—maybe occasionally…just on the days when the humans expect me to rid the inside world of an invading mouse or something—but, I draw the line at innocent birds. I draw a double line on robins. (Oh, yeah, and Cardinals…and Blue Jays…and Woodpeckers.) WHAT WAS HE THINKING??

He’s really done it this time….really done it. Well, I guess there’s only one thing left to do….let’s see if I can help him frame the dog for the murder of Spring…

Wednesday's Weekly Guest Post:
Featuring Guest Blogger~ Gina T. Cat, Frito's Free Spirited Roommate

Can someone please shed some insight onto why exactly some cats (namely Frito T. Cat) find themselves unable to cover up the doodie in the litter box? Lea, Fluffy D’Dum Dum, and I have tolerated this oddity for years—and have decided that it’s time to seek some outside guidance. Either Frito learns to cover or we are going to block access to the downstairs litter boxes.

Really—it’s disgusting. It’s unsanitary—and we cannot understand why he cannot grasp the concept of potty and cover. I even watched him yesterday! He dropped a Frito sized load of crap (in the box not onto the web)—stepped out of the box, looked around to see if anyone was looking, and then made a quick paw or two into the litter box (without moving any litter) and then stopped to look at the uncovered pile. It seemed that he was honestly perplexed by the fact that it was not covered.

Hello, Frito—it requires MOVEMENT OF LITTER OVER the pile. What did he do when he realized that it wasn’t covered, you may ask? He turned around and pawed like a madcat OUTSIDE the litter box on the carpet. What was THAT supposed to accomplish? He turned to check the status of the potty pile—and was immediately distressed that it was NOT covered. Hmm. Then, he proceeded to try pawing the carpet on the other side of the litter box. Guess what? He turned to check out the potty pile again. Bewilderment struck. What did he do next? He pawed the wall behind the litter box! THE WALL. Not kidding. With one more look at the uncovered pile of poo, he took one more look around the area for witnesses and ran as fast as could waddle out of the hallway and onto the stairs.

For the millionth time, I followed along, entered the litter box and covered his potty wotty doodle. Apparently someone missed the litter box training in kitten school. You’d think as many times as he’s watched me cover for him over the years that he would have gotten the hang of it.

I think I’ve been uncharacteristically patient for the past 8 years. I have followed his litter trail, covered his messes, and have never even made a hiss. Really, though, I’m getting to old to keep covering up his messes. I have kids to bite, humans to trip, and a floppy eared pound hound to bash—you never know when my nine lives will be up. I really do not have time to be on constant litter box patrol. I just don’t get it—any insight? Any good intervention/potty therapists out there? Perhaps a litter box training guide for dummies that I’ve missed?

See you next week! Same cat time. Same cat channel.

Gina