Mom and dad, they're basically good people. They aren't perfect, but you know, they adopted sis and me from a bad situation and I can't fault them for trying their best.
Myself? I love computers. No, dad loves computers, despite his protests. Me? I LOVE computers. I just want to rub myself all over them. And sometimes, I do. Keyboards fascinate me in unnatural ways, and those things they call mice even though they aren't really mice? Those things can keep me busy for hours. Especially the wireless ones I can pack off and hide in closets.
I help dad tie his motorcycle boots on every time he goes for a ride. He says it causes flashbacks to putting on his work shoes on the farm and being surrounded by kittens and cats as he tried to tie the laces up. I think he likes it, but he acts all tough-guy about it and tells me to get lost. I know better. If he didn't want help, he wouldn't have bought boots with long laces.
My older siblings are pretty cool. The one you know as Kitty1, my big black sister is about the most awesome cat ever. I love her so much it hurts sometimes. Especially when she bats me around for bugging her. But I always come back. I'm persistant, and I wear her down until she'll cuddle me. Or at least until she'll tolerate me cuddling her. Kitty2, my big white bother from another mother is pretty cool too. He's big and heavy but he can run like the wind. He plays with me and sis when we're feeling all kitten like and rambunctious and keeps us in line when we do something we shouldn't. He's a really good big brother, though I have gotten mad at him sometimes. Dad says that happens with all brothers and not to worry about it. Sure enough, most of the time it passes quickly and we're right back to playing together.
But my favorite people in the whole world have to be the dogs. Pup2 picked us out. She cleans us sometimes still. And holds us a lot. Sometimes my gratitude to her just overflows and I rub myself all over her face and head. I just love her so much. Pup1 is really good to us, though sometimes I get the feeling she just wants us to leave her alone. She's a good dog with cats, she just doesn't understand all the touchy-feely stuff sis and I like.
My sister and I had some really rough patches before we came to live here, so the love we feel for everybody in the house is just tremendous. We really can't express it enough, and I think sometimes it gets to be too much for everybody. Sometimes they lose patience with us always wanting to give them attention every minute of every day, but we're just so happy here after our hard fought kittenhoods that it's tough to express just how much we love everything about this place.
The reason I'm writing you all is to let you know about a little incident that happened last night. Dad's been trying to teach me not to knock over glasses of water. He says all these methods worked on the older two cats when they were going through this phase, but I just don't seem to be getting it. He doesn't understand. I get it. I just like water so much that his methods aren't cutting it with me. His punishments are just adding to the fun for me.
See, when a cat knocks over a glass of water on purpose, and dad sees who did it, he dumps what's left of the water on that cat's head before cleaning it up. Here's the thing: I like that. I like it a lot. It's like a nice refreshing shower. It reminds me of when Pup2 cleans my head, just without all the heat. I LOVE having my head wet. Dad seems to forget how often I jump under a running faucet just to get my head wet. Dad, for all he gets right with me, is really messing this one up.
So, last night, I walk up to mom's glass and wait until dad leaves the room. Then, I yowl until mom looks right at me, and put my arm up on her glass and push it over. See, I'm testing her to see if she's smarter than dad. She grabs the glass with a little water remaining in it, and pours it on my back, not on my head.
So, she's a little smarter than dad, but not by much.
Dad comes back in the room looking really angry. I try hard not to smile at him, because I know that just makes him more angry. He pulls the couch out to get behind it and clean up the puddle I just made. Then he does something new. He picks me up and uses me to mop up the puddle.
I LOVED IT! When he finally let me go, I rolled in the puddle that was still there just to show him how awesome it was. He walked away shaking his head saying he gives up. I heard mom say, "I feel like we're picking on a retarded child when we try to scold him." That hurt. I'm not retarded. I just like water. Almost as much as I like computers.
So, do you think it's wrong that my mom called me a retard right to my face? Dad was pretty upset about it, and I kind of think he's right. I'm not stupid. I understand more english than mom gives me credit for. And since then, mom's been spending a lot of time trying to hold me and cuddle me and tell me she's sorry. But I'm not sure I can forgive her. I mean, we all have our fetishes. Mine just happen to be computers and water.
Oh shit, mom's coming home for lunch. I'd better hurry up and post. I'll talk to you folks later. Take care.
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