Cat food. You may not know this, but apparently this stuff is crack to cats and dogs. And I am not talking about the dry crunchy stuff, no, no, no this is what is called GUSHY FOOD.

Now, I love my pets. Well, 3/4 of them anyway. (WHAT?! One of them keeps peeing on the carpet, judgy mcjudgerson! He needs to go to cat heaven.) Like I was saying- love my pets, but none of them rate Gushy food. My daughter disagrees. She loves buying the wet food for the cats. And they love her for being a sucker.

And the dog? Well, he just wants a piece of action.

Our first mistake was to buy the food in the little packets. Oreo would get the empties out of the trash and gnaw them trying to get a taste. Then he moved up to getting the full ones and gnawing on those. Mmmm, tin foil flavored cat food.

Whatever. I got your number dog.

Next up we bought the cans. Remember how I complained about stepping on Legos? Yeah, those are nothing compared to cat food cans. Oreo slinks downstairs (in the middle of the night), gets a can and carries it around in his mouth. He doesn’t make a mess. He can’t chew the can open. But he carries that unopened can in his mouth as if to say, ‘Bitch, I am two opposable thumbs away from DINNER TIME.) So now instead of Legos all around the house, I have cat food cans from the top floor to the basement.

Next up, cat food cans full of Legos.

It’s not a dresser, it’s a multi-level cat bed.

Cookie in Repose

The other night I am laying in bed having this really weird dream. I dreamed that attached to my leg was this huge bug, almost like a lobster or a roach. I mean this…THING or monster (or whatever) covered my whole calf. And in my dream I am walking around with this thing on my leg saying to myself, “It’s no big deal, don’t freak out. It’s no big deal, don’t freak out.”

THEN this roach/lobster thing takes out a huge stinger appendage from its head and digs it into my calf. There was no way I could shake this thing off, it was ANNOYING.

Well, clearly we all know what this dream means, right?

Exactly, don’t have cats that try to sleep on your legs during the night. Because when you try to shake the asshole off your leg they will use their claws to hang on.

People, we have a government in CRISIS. It has come to my attention that a key cabinet position has gone unfulfilled. This position is of the utmost importance,  and the weightiest of roles- to keep vermin out of the halls of power. Fourtunately, for those of us in the United States we are not effected by the egregious oversight. But our neighbors accross the pond, are IN CRSIS and need us in their time of need. I am going to tell you how I am going to help them in a moment, but, first more about this important government seat of power.

Chief Mouser to the Cabinet Office.

Yes, you read that right. You may think I am making this up, but I don’t make stuff up. On Tuesdays. This exalted position was first held by a cat named Treasury Bill. Unfortunate moniker aside, he did his job so well, that he was replaced by Peter. And Peter was replaced by…well, you can look at the list yourself.

Sybil, the last cat left 10 Downing Street in 2009, reportedly to live out his retirement in the lap of luxury. But, now….NOW? There’s no one! How does this country function each and every day? I get that whole British ‘stiff upper lip’ thing and all, but this goes beyond the pale. And it is a situation that MUST be rectified.

In case you didn’t know, the Prime Minister is off cooing over his new baby. What kind of man goes off to celebrate the addition of his houseold when he knows his country is on the brink. Listen, Mr. Brown, even now as we speak the  mice are planning and plotting. It could be ANY DAY NOW. I implore you to ACT NOW!

Rumor has it that the Queen is not pleased, but sources could not confirm that before press time.

My good readers, keep the UK and its shoddy, broken government in your thoughts. They need all the support they can get.

P.S. I have a killer cat that would be perfect for job, and she might even overlook your funny accents.

P.P.S. – I have outfitted a box for the cat with plenty of airholes (don’t need PETA after me, y’all) now, just tell where to send it to?

P.P.P.S- I’m a giver.

P.P.P.P.S.- Hurry up with the address, she’s biting through the box.

I spent last evening with Nic from My Bottle’s Up (who’s now on my blog roll- HOLLAH!) and I have some great photos to share. But this morning, I captured THIS shot, and I knew it had to go up first. This is a break from a cat fight that always starts out with Venus crawling all over, jumping on, and biting Hook. Hook usually just lays there for about five minutes until he finally gives in and gives Venus what she wants- some play time in the form of a good old-fashioned smack down.  More photos here.

Venus has a protector.

Two minutes later, they were fighting- honest.