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Related:  Cat (+695)      

* Thou shalt not jump onto the keyboard when thy human is on the modem.

* Thou shalt not pull the phone cord out of the back of the modem.

* Thou shalt not unroll all of the toilet paper off the roll.

* Thou shalt not sit in front of the television or monitor as thou are transparent.

* Thou shalt not projectile vomit from the top of the refrigerator.

* Thou shalt not walk in on a dinner party and commence licking thy butt.

* Thou shalt not lie down with thy butt in thy human’s face.

* Thou shalt not leap from great heights onto thy human’s genital region.

* Fast as thou are, thou cannot run through closed doors.

* Thou shalt not reset thy human’s alarm clock by walking on it.

* Thou shalt not climb on the garbage can with the hinged lid, as thou wilt fall in and trap thyself.

* Thou shalt not jump onto the toilet seat just as thy human is sitting down.

* Thou shalt not jump onto thy sleeping human’s bladder at 4a.m.

* Thou shalt realize that the house is not a prison from which to escape at any opportunity.

* Thou shalt not trip thy humans even if they are walking too slow.

* Thou shalt not push open the bathroom door when there are guests in thy house.

* Thou shalt remember that thou are a carnivore and that houseplants are not meat.

* Thou shalt show remorse when being scolded.

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Related:  Cat (+695), Christmas (+1017)      

On the twelfth day of Christmas my human gave to me:

Twelve bags of catnip!
Eleven tarter Pounce treats,
Ten ornaments hanging,
Nine wads of Kleenex,
Eight peacock feathers,
Seven stolen Q-tips,
Six feathered balls,
Five MILK JUG RINGS!
Four munchy house plants,
Three running faucets,
Two fuzzy mousies,
And a hamste-e-er in a plastic ball!!

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Related:  Cat (+695)      

A Cat Owner’s Story
Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable because no matter how legitimate my illness, because I always sense my boss thinks I am lying.
On one occasion, I had a valid reason but lied anyway because the truth was to humiliating to reveal. I simply mentioned that I had sustained a head injury and I hoped I would feel up to coming in the next day. By then, I could think up a doozy to explain the bandage on my crown.
In this case, the truth hurt. I mean it really hurt in the place men feel the most pain. The accident occurred mainly because I conceded to my wife’s wishes to adopt a cute little kitty
As the daily routine prescribes, I was taking my shower after breakfast when I heard my wife, Deb, call out to me from the kitchen. “Ed!” she harkened. “The garbage disposal is dead. Come reset it.” “You know where the button is.” I protested through the shower (pitter-patter).
“Reset it yourself!”
“I am scared!” She pleaded. “What if it starts going and sucks me in?”
Pause. “C’mon, it’ll only take a second.” No logical assurance about how a disposal can’t start itself will calm the fears of a person who suffers from “Big-ol-scary-machine-phobia,” a condition brought on by watching too many Stephen King movies.
It is futile to argue or explain, kind of like telling Lloyd Bentsen Americans are over-taxed. And if a poltergeist did, in fact, possess the disposal, and she was ground into round, I’d have to live with that the rest of my life.
So out I came, dripping wet and buck naked, hoping to make a statement about how her cowardly behavior was, not without consequence, but it was I who would suffer. I crouched down and stuck my head under the sink to find the button.
It is the last action I remember performing. It struck without warning, without respect to my circumstances. Nay, it wasn’t a hexed disposal, drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth. It was our new kitty, clawing playfully at the dangling objects she spied between my legs. She (“Buttons” aka “the Grater”) had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I took the bait under the sink. At precisely the second I was most vulnerable, she leapt at the toys I unwittingly offered and snagged them with her needle-like claws.
Now when men feel pain or even sense danger anywhere close to their masculine region, they lose all rational thought to control orderly bodily movements. Instinctively, their nerves compel the body to contort inwardly, while rising upwardly at a violent rate of speed. Not even a well trained monk could calmly stand with his groin supporting the full weight of a kitten and rectify the situation in a step-by-step procedure. Wild animals are sometimes faced with a “fight or flight” syndrome; men, in this predicament, choose only the “flight” option.
Fleeing straight up, I knew at that moment how a cat feels when it is alarmed. It was a dismal irony. But, whereas cats seek great heights to escape, I never made it that far. The sink and cabinet bluntly impeded my ascent; the impact knocked me out cold.
When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me. Having been fully briefed by my wife, the paramedics snorted as they tried to conduct their work while suppressing their hysterical laughter. My wife told me I should be flattered.
At the office, colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me. I kept silent, claiming it was too painful to talk. “What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?”
If they had only known.

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Related:  Cat (+695), Q & A (+15908)      

Q: What do you call a cat with eight legs that likes to swim?
A: An octopuss!

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Related:  Cat (+695), Q & A (+15908)      

Q: What noise does a cat make going down the highway?
A: Miaooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooow!

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