Something is definitely fishy around there. That lady that was here a few days ago came back. My monkeylady jabbered to her and gave her some of those paper things and then they looked at me and tried to get me to play. Well, I only did a little, I was thrown a little off my game by the presence of the other lady. However, I will soon have her under my paw. She will be mine.

My monkeys went into one of the “No-no Riley” rooms last night and left the door open, and so I went in and hid under the bed and claimed it for my dominion. They were piling some of their clothes things up and getting out these big things that opened up. There was a lot of bumping around and scurrying from one room to another gathering things.

Later tonight, I will investigate a number of small objects that appeared on the bedside table and the bathroom sink. I think the “dab and drop” method will tell me something about what these objects are for, and of course to teach my monkeys not to put interesting objects on the edges of tables and counters where they might spontaneously knock themselves off the edge.

I suspect something unusual is going to happen soon, but don’t yet know what it is.

For now, though, everything is good. My monkeys and I have fallen into a very enjoyable routine. This morning it was very cold, so I crept under the covers on their sleeping thing. The monkeylady seemed to like that a lot, but it was stuffy and a little too warm.

So, I just went in and out. In and out. Under the covers and then right back out. It was nice going creeping in there and snuggling, and then I’d have to get out again. Quite fun. The monkey lady seemed peeved that I wouldn’t settle and let her sleep, though. Must make a note to school her a little better on that; she really sleeps too much, I think.

“Ow! Ow! YEEEOW! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEYOWTCH!!”

Yes, I did indeed vocalise in this very vulgar manner tonight. I was quite overcome with pain. My furry human was busying himself with doing something about the monkey chow they eat at night, and I was in my usual position right at his feet. Well, I was only offering to take care of any little fishy tidbits that happened to find their way to the floor.

And then he stepped back and put his big monkey foot down HARD, RIGHT on my little paw, and it HURT. I screamed loudly and ran away.

My monkeywoman came quick! She ran right up from the other room and they both approached me as I stumbled away in some pain and confusion. It was like reliving a nightmare, but then they both stopped and spoke softly and gently to me and to each other.

I shook off my pain-befuddlement and moved as quick as I could up the stairs to the sleeping room, in some embarassment for being caught out. I had shown fear, and I felt very small and vulnerable again. They followed, carefully.

Oh no! For a moment I was afraid of even my beloved monkeys! I shuddered with fear, but it lessened as I realized that already my paw hurt less and less. Not a serious injury, then. Of course, I should have realized that when I was able to run up the stairs, but still.

I jumped, rather gingerly, up on to the bed to my secure place, a blanket placed for my personal use at the foot of the bed. My monkeys came close, reassuring me that they meant me no harm. My lady petted me softly and felt my legs and paws gently. She seemed relieved, and then she petted my furry one, and he seemed even more relieved and petted me over and over again. It was clear that abject apologies were being offered, and so I accepted with a tentative “bump” to his paw. And then all was loving and good and I was not scared any more. I love my humans, but they certainly are clumsy.

I recovered my sang-froid, and later was able to play a couple of good games of Stringfish! and Get That Red Dot!!1! with my furry man. Friends again. However, I shall be much more cautious about those big feet-things they have. I’m fine now, although you may kiss the paw if you wish.

I don’t think I like feet much at all. My monkey lady has big purple fake feet on her back paws right now and they make a scary SHH! – SHH! noise. I did not think it was amusing when she approached just now to play a game of I’m Coming To Get You!

If I could talk Gibberish (the language that they speak) I would tell her “Lose the purple feet, please.”

Perhaps I shall have to take drastic steps to render them…unwearable. More on that later.

I’d like to take a moment to introduce my monkeys … I’ve grown quite attached to them since they gave me this nice cave to live in.

The male monkey has all the computers … and spends more than a little time in the downstairs cave. He’s kind of furry too … but not as much as me. He usually gives me my breakfast and dinner, since he ususally wakes up and comes home earlier than the female one. Sometimes I like to sit on the couch with him and watch the lighted picture box. That Stargate program is pretty intresting, although I’m disappointed they don’t have any cats in lead roles. The Gaould look like they might be fun toys. From my wanderings around this computer, I think his blog is Geeky Ramblings.

The female monkey has red hair … and tends to sleep later than the male one, although she does come home a lot later too. She also stays up later in the evening. She talks to me a lot more … although I haven’t figured out what dialect of cat she is speaking. I suspect she’s just learning to speak cat and hasn’t mastered most of the basic language constructs. At least she’s trying. Her blog appears to be BlogulaRasa.

Yes, it’s true. Mine is going to be a household name in a matter of weeks.

One of my humans … the furry one … was interviewed for a computer magazine a few weeks ago and I just saw an early draft of the article.

Yours truly was mentioned promiently… although who is the employee, and who is the boss, is open to debate.

I’ll post a link to the article when it’s published.

My monkeylady was reading something on the computer, and then as she often does, wandered away. I took the opportunity to do a little kitty recon and found a few more fellow travelers in the Cat’s Right movement (our motto: “The cat’s right, monkey. Get used to it.”

Another monkeylady writes about her cats, and has conversations with them much like I have with my own monkeys:

ginmar: Note to self:After boiling hot water for

“STOP THAT RIGHT NOW!”

“NOW!”

“Off the counter!”

“What did I say?”

“No more laser pointer for YOU!”

“Get OUT of there!”

“Get OFF of there!”

“(*&^! cats!”

“I’m trying to write!”

“Do you have to do that?”

Today’s lesson, therefore, is:

Drink tea before interrogating one’s cats.

Do not interrogate one’s cats. One can only imagine their replies to this nonsense.

“Yes, quite frankly, we must. Why do you keep asking us this?”

“No.”

“No.”

“No.”

“Who cares? We don’t listen to you.”

“Bite me, you tall hairless oppressor!”

“It’s where the good people food is!”

“Hey, either you let us eat or you let us drink the Scotch. You decide.”

How very strange – that’s exactly the sort of claptrap I have to endure from my monkeylady. I love her dearly, but she actually reprimanded me sharply this evening when I decided to sample the brightly-lit bush she assembled in the living room.

What? It didn’t even taste that good, but I felt duty-bound to verify my data.

She brought a couple of boxes in and scattered intriguing looking things all over, then put together this thing that looks exactly like a giant toy designed especially for persons of the fur persuasion like myself.

Then she dangled some shiny balls on it. Can’t wait for later, when I see how far they go when batted. Think I’ll wait until after they are deeply asleep and making that disgusting “snoooOOORK” noise.

I wouldn’t want to disturb them, after all.

Anyway, I can see from the above dialogue that although I have much in common with other cats and their monkeys, I do have several comments or questions.

1. What is “scotch?”
2. It’s called a “laser pointer?” I see. Thank you.
3. Why did my monkey assemble a bush in the living room? Anyone? Anyone? Mewler?

Uh, oh. The furry monkey is returning from somewhere else and I’ll have to “log off” for now. Well done, my feline co-conspirators. Continue the good work in confounding and confusing our dear but misguided monkeys.

I don’t get it … why do these monkeys buy me all the fancy shmancy toys … when I’m perfectly contented to use the more down to earth distractions.

Case in point … the monkey lady bought me a fancy plush ‘cat bed’ to sleep in … when the blanny at the foot of their bed is nice and comfy. As for a hidey hole, this brown paper sack is fine and dandy for me.

That said, of course, I do enjoy playing with some technology … at least I assume the little red dot that runs around the house is technology. I have yet to catch it, but rest assured … I will. Darn thing is fast. I’ll have it right where I want it, and then it moves. Sometimes it taunts me by jumping around right on my paws. Sometimes it sits on my paws and I don’t even notice it’s there until too late. But I like a challange.

Ha! My monkeys left the computer unguarded again. Silly monkeys. I took the opportunity to check in on a few of my brethren and sistren in the Cat underground.

Caveat Lector | Good morning, housemonkey

Didi came in for her morning trample bright—well, dark and early this morning. Yawning, I got up to feed her, and check in by IM with a friend of mine in Australia.

Turning on the light, I discovered that one of them hurled on my winter cloak. Good morning, housemonkey! Isn’t it a lovely morning!

Good work, Didi! I commend you. I myself have had a few opportunities to hurl. I was unable to find a coat, but I did have a go at the living room rug (the nice soft one) again.

I was irked that my monkeywoman took my fishing pole toy away from me, so later on I left her a couple of messages in the front hall place. She had foolishly left my toy out on the counter, and then both monkeys went out into the place where the noisy moving boxes live. So I jumped up and captured the mouse that is somehow invisibly attached to the fishing pole, and took it toward the kitchen.

Suddenly, the fishing pole was chasing me! It wanted the mouse back! I ran up the little stairs and the pole stopped, but then I couldn’t keep going with the mouse.

So I stopped and chewed at the almost-invisible string and snapped it. The fishing pole stopped chasing me and the mouse.

In fact, the way the string coiled up begged for further investigation and attack, so I chewed it into several pieces.

Then the monkeylady came back and made very surprised sounds. She
tried to pick up all the pieces of string and she put the fishing pole away in the cupboard, but she didn’t know I saved some pieces for later, and left them for her to find when I hurled some messages in the hall. Ha.

The mouse is now completely mine and I carry it around as is my right. My mouse now.

She’ll have to get something else to attach to that fishing pole thing, but I bet she won’t leave it out where I can get to it again.

PARIS – Emily the cat is heading home, in style. The wayward tabby from Wisconsin who disappeared two months ago and wound up traveling across the Atlantic to France boarded a Continental Airlines flight Thursday — in business class.

- Emily, the Stowaway Cat, Is Coming Home – AP

Oh cat, I’m sure glad Emily’s situation got straightened out. I was kind of in that situation a while ago … lost, not really knowing where I was going, but I’m OK now (the brief stay in that ‘detention’ center was kind of a pain) … and soon Emily will be too.

Although I have to wonder what France would be like … I hear they eat a lot of fish.

… not to leave their computers on!

I FINALLY got down into the underground part of the ‘home’ building … and found all manner of computers lying around.

I choose one that looked important … and found a user and password written on a piece of paper. I don’t know who this ‘root’ monkey is, but they sure have a lot of power.

A few clicks of the mouse (not very tasty, for some reason) and I’ve got my own website!

Ho, hum, the monkeys were here yesterday for a while, but then they went away. For some reason, my monkeylady fed me again after my monkeyman had already given me my dinner. They took some food away with them, but didn’t bring any back when they returned hours later. I think they went somewhere and gobbled a lot of food and felt guilty and gave me extra. It must be some mysterious monkey holiday.

Whatever. I’m going to take a nap.