Hello to all you cool cats out there in the great wide world. I'm told this talking computer box thing will let you hear me meow from just about anywhere...humans and their toys are so weird! Why can't they stick to mice? Well, never mind I guess. The toy is here so I'll use it however I can. If it turns out you actually know what I'm trying to say after all, we'll both be better off.
I'll start by telling you all who I am and what I'm all about. They call me Kara. My human - his name is Gregg, even though Tia calls him Bug - gave me that name when I was a kitten. I don't really know why, but I guess it stuck and I suppose I don't really mind either. Gregg's father sometimes calls me little-wee-babycat even though I'm not a kitten, but he cradles me on my back and rubs my tummy while he's doing it so I usually just dismiss his people-talk in favour of all that stroking. Sometimes he takes me to his house when Gregg goes away for a long time. Anyway, where was I? Yes...more about me. I'm mostly black, with a little white on my feet, my chest and stomach. I've been around the block a few times, as they say; in human years, I'm eleven or so. What this really means is that I'm old enough to grumble and grunt when I jump or get picked up, but young enough to chase whatever I want to chase, even when nothing else can see it. I'm also at that an age where I feel I'm allowed to sleep wherever I want and to make statements by leaving gifts on the floor in Gregg's kitchen or under his bed-couch. He still hasn't figured me out, and I'm always careful not to give him any clues...though I really don't like the scolding so I keep myself from abusing this freedom too often. I've never had kittens, and when I was a lot younger they took me to a vet to give me an operation after which I decided I didn't really care about tomcats after all. No kittens is sort of sad, but it's too late to worry about it now, and if there's one thing I've learned in my long life it's that you make the best of your good things and try to downplay the rest of it...as a cat, it's the best way to live.
People say I'm friendly, but cats would tell you another story...or rather, two in particular would. The first is a guy named Thorley, but he has no further place in my tales except that he used to live in a different house where Gregg used to live...a house that was way up high in a building with a lot of other houses in the same building. The second one was Ming; Gregg tells me that some of you knew Ming because he found out about the computer-box first and decided to use it. I tell you, I've never been happier to see someone leave in my life! Gregg might well have loved that little upstart, but he was way too upbeat for my way of living. I couldn't get half a minute's rest without him trying to play with me or trying to chase me from place to place. It got so I had to spit and yell, and I don't do that half as much as you might expect. If he'd been willing to cuddle with me the same way he cuddled with Gregg, we might've been able to work something out, but all he wanted was play play play, and this girl's too old for that. It took Gregg awhile to realize that something had to be done, even though I made it pretty clear if I do say so myself; Ming came just as it started getting hot outside and left a little after the first snow fell...over five months, Gregg tells me, and they weren't all bad but it definitely would've ended a lot sooner if I'd had my way. In truth, I think Gregg might've realized I was upset but he might've loved Ming too much to let him go when he should have; I'm old and wise enough to forgive him for that, and to make him aware of it. Life's way too short to hold grudges for long, I think. From what I understand, Ming is in a new home and seems very happy there; I'm sad that Gregg, Ming and I couldn't live together, but I'm happy that the kitten found a good place to stay, and happier still to get my peace and quiet back!
If you've come to notice the way I sometimes jump from topic to topic, there's a good reason for that. I don't talk very fast, and while I do think faster than I talk, it's not by much. I've got things to distract me, you see...chin-tickles, a big bowl of kibble not too far away, a soft bed to lie on...and I often talk while between these various pleasures. It's very easy to lose track of what you were saying after a belly-rub so good you can't help but rumble with purring, take it from me. Same goes with food...it may only be little hard bits to crunch on, but they taste like chicken and seafood, and it seems as if there's always more in the bowl! I have no illusions about being a good-looking cat, either; my fur is nice and smooth, my eyes are clean and my teeth are strong, but I'm a little...round. Gregg feeds me a little too often, or so other humans have said. I'm not dead yet though, and I still feel fine most days, so I don't see why good things should come to an end. I don't -want to be fat, you understand, but if being fat is a result of eating lots of tasty food, then fat I shall have to be.
You see what I mean? I set out to tell you a little more about myself and why I decided to write in the first place, and I get distracted by thoughts of pettings and food! It's time I buckled down and got to the point. I'm hoping those of you who are reading are still with me and still interested enough to stick around.
I'm here talking to you because I've come to understand that, during my many years of life, I've learned a lot of things. I won't claim that I'm the wisest of cats, and there are a lot of things I admit I don't know a thing about, but I'm always open-minded and laid-back enough to learn, and I think of myself as practical...none of this useless attitude that punk kittens sometimes get, none of the high-handedness of young queens or the cruelty of younger toms either. What I'm trying to say is that I know quite a lot, I tell it like it is and have decided that if I can help other cats or their humans - even just by making them laugh or smile - I'll try until I can't try anymore. I won't promise to have the solution to all of life's problems, and I can't guarantee that any solution I -do give will work. What I can do, though, is tell you that I have a little to say on just about anything.
Take kittens, for instance. They start out being small and quiet and scared of everything, which is fine with me except for the bit about being scared. The world is big and sometimes confusing but not worth being frightened of if you can help it. I think a kitten's claws and teeth let it stop being afraid of things and somehow teach it that it's okay to harass the older folk. You can't take the teeth or claws away to make them forget either...once they grow in and start getting used for various destructive acts, peacetime is over. Suddenly they're everywhere at once, mewing at things even I can't see, attacking things for no good reason even when they don't move and generally making nuisances of themselves. Some humans tell me I would have made a good mother, but I'm not so sure I could've stood all the mayhem. Kittens must figure that they can do whatever they want because they're kittens. Quite frankly, the change between the kitten afraid of his own shadow and the kitten who wants to play with his own shadow for three days straight while destroying everything nearby is a mystery; aside from the claws and teeth, I can't even come close to understanding it. Was I that way as a kitten? Gregg seems to think not, but he has a way of seeing a little more of what he wants to see when dealing with cats, I think...it's easier for him to forget or downplay the bad in order to remember the good. For now, I'll just quietly take his word for it because I don't remember so well anymore. Anyway, about kittens and their attitudes in general...I just wish they'd calm down a little and stop pestering us oldies! If there's one thing I wish I could tell every kitten to have them listen up, it would be this: There will always be another toy, another thing to chase, more food and more places to run...you don't have to get it all out of your system early, and if you take it easy you'll get tired of the fun a lot later in life. That might sound to some of you like I'm encouraging them to be even crazier in the long run, but all I'm really saying is that if they calm down a little, it's much easier to deal with. They might still be a little crazier when they're big cats than they would've been otherwise, but instead of being almost manic about it when they're younger, I'm hoping (perhaps only wishing) that kittens were only about half as frantic about their need to romp. I can handle a little fun, even at my modestly-advanced age, but too much is too much, by goodness, and I'm not afraid to say so either!
I'm thinking it's time to get some sleep. There's no time better for sleep than the present, after all. I'll be around every Sunday to offer what passes for my sage advice, though I'm not quite sure what Sunday is. I'll have to trust that Gregg knows and will tell me, as I don't like making promises I don't know how to keep. My future posts probably won't be quite so long and rambly, but that's not a promise, it's only really a guess. In the meantime, be good to one another, and remember that while smart cats can get into the food, wise cats know how to do it and not get caught.