Humor

Scotch the Cat, “The Exorcist”, and the Land of Abandoned Toys

Okay, what happened was…

I woke up. That’s all I did.

I was napping in one of my secret places, behind the purple couch with the too-big pillows that smell like me because, well, I can’t leave stuff alone. I like it back there. You have to squeeze a little bit to get in there, but it’s worth it, because then there’s a place just my size. I can lay there and peek and see stuff, but nobody can see me. My daddies will call one of my names and walk around looking for me but they don’t know where I be and it’s fun.

They try to tease me, though, my daddies. They go to the Pan Tree and open the door and make one of the Treat Bags make noise. When I was little and more simple, I would hear that noise and run to them very fast, because it meant I would get little bits of something special in my bowl. I like bits of special. But after years of simple I figured out that sometimes the noise was a trick. My daddies were not putting something in my bowl. They wanted to get me.

I don’t wanna be got. I don’t wanna be anything where I can’t jump down and run somewhere else. My daddies don’t understand that I am very important and I don’t have time for being got. I have things to do. Important stuff I need to do now, not later when they lay down on the big bed with the come-for-tour that I like to scratch and they are not caring if I break stuff or not. Don’t get me! Unless I say.

Because being got is bad. My daddies are going to do something I don’t want them to do. Sometimes they want to take little round white things and shove them in my place where the food goes. My throwed. I don’t like that. That’s not a treat. Why are they shoving it? I don’t want it. And one of the daddies knows how to squeeze on part of my face where my mouth just falls open, I can’t help it. Then bam, not-treat in my throwed. I will scratch him later for bamming.

And sometimes they want to stop fleece. I don’t know fleece. My daddies say fleece is bad and they don’t want fleece on me. But what is fleece? They don’t say that part, just stop fleece. So they get me, because I didn’t think right, and I got got. And one daddy holds me and the other daddy puts cold yuck on my back. The part of my back that I can’t lick or scratch, by my head. That’s mean. Daddies are mean about fleece. I can’t get yuck off! Even if I run and hide and be mad.

But the baddest got thing? The clip hers. I think my daddies love me but then I get got and one of the daddies has the clip hers. And then I don’t know about love. I only know I want to be away from clip hers. One of the daddies makes me be still and the other daddy puts the clip hers on my scratch-toes and he CUTS THEM! My daddies cut me! They cut my toes! It is terrible and bad.

And I try to stop them. Because I know they might have demons and maybe they don’t understand. I know about demons. Sometimes the daddies leave the Tea Vee on when they go to those places I can’t go and they come back with bags of stuff that I can sniff. And one time the Tea Vee had a long show called “The Ex Or Sips” about a girl named Lend the Bear who spit up lots of hairballs and killed people who wore black and white clothes and made them fall down stairs and stuff. She was loud and mean but other people in the show said she did it because of demons.

So my daddies have demons. And that makes them want to cut me. But it’s still just me that has hair balls, so maybe that movie didn’t tell me everything.

I forgot what I was trying to tell you.

Oh, the cutting and the clip hers. So when my daddies and the demons try to cut me, I fight. I fight hard, because I don’t like it when big people make me do things I don’t want to do. I squirm and I wiggle and I howl like Lend the Bear, like my daddies are trying to kill me. I don’t know if they are or not but I don’t want to find out. This makes the daddies say strong words and they are not happy, but Scotch is not happy either because they might be killing me. Why do they not understand that I’m not happy?

I’m sad now. I don’t know if I want to talk anymore. Daddies should not hurt kitties with clip hers. Bad.

Oh, look. A leaf just fell in the yard. I want to kill it. Or maybe I want to check my bowl to see if there’s something new. Or sleep. I like sleeping.  And stretching after sleeping. Do you like tuna? I like tuna. Bunches. And bugs can be yummy.

I forgot again why I’m here. Oh yeah. I was talking about the picture that goes with this story. I don’t like that picture. And I think it’s Lie Bell that one of my daddies took it. It makes me look mean like maybe I did something bad to my toys that look hurt. They are only a little hurt, not bad hurt. And they only got hurt because they made me mad. Don’t make me mad, don’t get hurt. Gold In rule. But maybe I should tell why I mad and then had to hurt.

I was behind the purple couch, just laying. I already did all my important morning stuff and checked and sniffed all the things that need checked and sniffed. So it was time for a brake, because I’m in the Kitty Union and we have work-hers rights. So I was braking, and maybe snoozing a little because I’m good at that. And then one of the daddies was done with his get-ready stuff and it was time for him to say bye and drive away in his car to that place he goes to make money.

I don’t really like this part. Because I was all settled and comfy and didn’t want to do things that make me look cute. But that daddy has to play with me for a little before he drives to the money place. I don’t know why. I know he’s going to come back. And I’m not going anywhere, because they don’t let me go anywhere, because I am End Door Kitty who gets told no-no when I try to run outside and touch grass. (I still try, but always no-no and door slamming.) So daddy was trying to play and I didn’t want to because I was braking. He called my name lots.

I pretended I didn’t hear him. (Braking!)

He called more. I was starting to think I didn’t like this daddy. Let me lay and not do anything! Go make the money and bring me back a treat bag. Not hard, just do. He called more. I thought maybe I call my Union Stew Herd and file a grieve ants, but I didn’t know where my sell phone be. (Maybe in big water bowl where daddies sit. The bat room?) I like to throw stuff in big water bowl, so maybe sell phone got throwed. I forget stuff. I’m simple but I’m pretty.

I finally got tired of daddy calling so I got up and peeked around the purple couch. Daddy saw me and grabbed me and raised me in the air and made baby talk. I don’t like to be in the air. I have told my daddies “No Air!” all the time. One daddy understands, and no air. This daddy not understand, and air happens. So Air Daddy was doing the air thing and I had to remind him about no air. When he didn’t listen, I squirmed and tried to kill him with my claws.

He didn’t like that.

Good. He put me down on my special place. It’s a desk that other daddy got from Pear One. But my daddies don’t do desk stuff with it. They put nice soft floors on the top so I can lay down and watch out the window and wait for leaves to fall so I can think about killing them. And that was okay, because it’s my me-only place and I can think about being the King Kitty of the world. But then Air Daddy found one of my old toys and put it down beside me.

I don’t like that old toy. I liked it a long time ago when I was little and didn’t know that if I just wait, there will be new toys coming. I played with it a lot when I was stupid, because it was red and it was a crab and I like seafood and it was easy for my claws to grab it and throw it everywhere or maybe put it in one of my water bowls and wait for one of the daddies to find it and make funny faces because I drowned my crab. I like it better when my daddies don’t understand my plans. Because I get more treats that way.

Anyway, daddy threw yucky crab on my special throne and then kissed me on the head. My head that I had just cleaned with one of my front paws and now it was dirty again. Why do they not understand about clean spots? Don’t touch! It takes a long time to make things clean. So I was in a bad mood and I was glad Air Daddy left for the way-far place because I needed to call my lawyer. And then sleep.

But I didn’t get to do anything of my important stuff, because other daddy came out of the Off Hiss room and wanted to know what I was doing. Why checking on me when Air Daddy just did? You have sell phones. Text and leave me alone! But I tried to be sweet because maybe treat time, you never know. I just sat there and tried to look hungry.

But no treat. Other daddy saw ugly crab toy and thought I was playing with it. (I not!) And he thought I needed other toys. (No, please.) And he found the mouse toy and flopped it on my throne. I don’t like the mouse toy, almost more than crab. Mouse toy don’t work right. When you pick up, no sound. When you throw on ground, it make noise. Why that? It should scream when I pick up, not throw down. Stupid bad toy.

So now I had two not-want things on my throne. Life is very hard. I tried to tell daddy that this was not working for me, that toys should be in trash and treats should be in mouth. But he not listen. He thought I was singing or something and wanted to take a picture. He stupid sometimes. He ran to get cam-raw. I wanted him to fall down and leave me alone until I need something. I’m busy and popular on Cat Book. Two thousand furrers!

But he came back. Bad daddy! And he had cam-raw, and shoving it at my face and talking to me pretty but he really didn’t mean it. He just want me to look at cam-raw. I don’t want to look at cam-raw, but only so many places to look, with ugly crab and stupid mouse in my house. So I finally look at daddy and he burn my eyes with cam-raw fire. More reason to call lawyer.

And then he show me picture. I look all mad, because I BE mad, with not-want toys on my soft royal floor that is MINE. And I get madder because I know this daddy is the one who makes clog posts about me and not talk to my agent before he do. Not right. But I can’t stop it, daddy goes clogging without asking me if okay. My daddies need training, Clog Daddy AND Air Daddy. Please click on Pet-Pal link to donate for my cause to train daddies better. It’s flax deductible! Send lots of money. Money good.

Love,

Scotch

P.S. to Clog Daddy: Why are there dead plants outside my royal window? King Kitties don’t want to see that. More lawyer reasons. I call now.

 

Originally published in “The Sound and the Fury” on 08/16/12 and “Bonnywood Manor” on 08/19/16. Slight changes made. Status update: After a series of arbitration meetings between the various lawyers, both daddies were forced to sign an agreement that Yucky Crab and Stupid Mouse could no longer be presented during interactive playtime without written permission…

 

49 replies »

  1. Scotch – I am Sy-man. If I can recommend to yew some very important strategy from me, a Tompkins Ease like a Scion East but way better and more majestic then the rub of the kill Scion East. Furst, I have a mommie and a daddie. Daddies is stupid. I am very sad fur you. Mommies is better then daddies. Daddies suck at petting they do not know where the good spots are and the bad spots neither. So I bite him hard like a steak or a turkey leg. Mommie on accident I swear mommie – I scratch her and bite her but I was kidding. I did hurt her because she tried to put me in a box and I know the last time I got in that box I was almost dead. She said I’m dramatic. Maybe so, but I ain’t got dem fleeces or no one cuts me – I cut them furst. The veteran from the war cuts me. I will kill anyone who tries to cut me. My mommie is smart so she sings songs to me – only about me and she luv me and only me and she give me treats and my food only for me and she make me a tree In the house. Two trees Jess fur me. But I’m cuter. My eye balls are so blue she sings about them eyes they cry every night for you. I donut like this song. But I have her trains coming in on time. She lets me sleep on her head. Or on her toes and I will kill all her toes all night me alone! I heard her say there may be ten kits coming. Do you know what kit ten are? Me neither it is stupid. Yawn.
    I have nice fur.
    Cute she said…
    Snore…

    Liked by 2 people

    • Sy-Man,

      My one daddy says I have lost brothers and sisters out there because I’m a Rest Cue kitty. I just thought he was simple until I got your letter. You say of great and wonderful things. Maybe you lost brother? We must meet and snort catnip and claw things. I now go check Ex PeeDidYa for flights and stuff. Look for new letter from me. Don’t let any daddies or mommies see letters! No!

      Scotch

      Like

  2. Humans whether they are daddies or mummies are so deluded when it comes to the rights of the animals that grace their homes. Justice will be done. But I need to figure out a cunning plan. I may be some time …. your friend, The Bean 🐾 🐾

    Liked by 2 people

    • Brian: “Aww. It’s so nice to know that I’m not alone in the battle for the throne in this house.”

      Scotch: “I know where you live, GooglePunTwist!”

      Therapist: “Only one of you speak at a time, boys. It’s the only way we’ll get through this.”

      Like

  3. Loved this!! “I’m very important and I don’t have time for being got” – that pretty much sums up cats. 😉 And I think one of the main differences between them and dogs is that they really know or at least assume you’re going to come back home (or maybe just don’t care) whereas dogs don’t. And yes – money good! 😂

    Liked by 2 people

    • Yes, cats generally understand the logistics when it comes to family members suddenly disappearing and returning. But this doesn’t mean that they are polite about it. Scotch gets over his disdain for our AWOL rudeness somewhat quickly (he hesitantly allows petting after a day or so), but his sister Cleo can hold a hard grudge for weeks on end…

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  4. Scotch: Princess Hunydog here. when your clog daddy is being annoying (that’s when he grabs you and smooches you or throws you in the air and makes squeely noises, or tries to shove a PILL (that’s the white thing that they put in your throwed btw) down you, for Bastet’s sake, claw him. Whaddya think those things are for man? And why do you think they (daddies and mommies all over the world) keep those clip hers so sharp? My mommy takes me to a place where it smells like other dogs (a LOT of dogs) and unhappy cats and they take me in another room and pinch my bottom. Then they use the clip hers on me. At least you get personalized service, which is only fitting for Royalty. I’ve expressed my displeasure with this treatment by howling and making all the other strange dogs in the place howl, and by ignoring my mommy for a few days, but as you mention THEY (hoomans) have treats. Hang in there Scotch. This too shall pass.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Ah, the bottom-pinching. I remember those days well, especially with a certain Shih Tzu who required attention to said pinching with extreme regularity. Nothing like coming in from a hard day’s work to find Tuffie dragging his hiney across the carpet in an attempt at self-maintenance. Off to the vet we would go. But this personalized clip her action with two current cats? That might change. They are both becoming far too vocal and resistant during the sessions, and I am increasingly drawn to the prospect of a professional taking care of all that mess for us, despite the cost…

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  5. I love Scotch! He reminds me of my Snickers. Tricks don’t work on her either. She’s smart like Scotch. Nothing gets by her. Never shaking the food or treat containers!

    This note is especially for Scotch cat… Your Dads love you sweet Scotch. That’s why they do these things. Plus, if they’re anything like ne, they really don’t want to have to put anything down your throwed. It’s nobfun for them either. You have some serious weaponry going on! Trust us.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Aww. Love the sweetness of your second paragraph. But really, if they would just relax for five seconds we could be done with the clip hers or the fleece killing or the throwed violations in just a heartbeat or two. But nope, it’s got to be a huge production full of expletives and regret… 😉

      Liked by 1 person

      • It’s that way here too. It takes both my husband and i to administer pills when necessary, thank goodness not often, and to trim claws, etc. And Snickers always knows when such things are coming. Always. No matter how nonchalant/unobtrusive we try to be…

        Liked by 1 person

    • Of course I have a purple couch. Why would I not? It was my fave color for the longest (sage and its various hues have replaced it in the last decade or so, no idea why, it just speaks to me) and purple is the symbol of royalty. As you know, this house is full of queens… 😉

      Liked by 3 people

  6. Like Scotch, Cricket doesn’t like to get got either! So many laugh out loud moments in the daily life of Scotch. (sorry, Scotch, but I love how you write) Oh, the big bowl of water in the ‘bat room’ … so tempting, isn’t it! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  7. I would write something uproariously amusing ( can it be uproarious and amusing?) but I don’t have time as I have to go fix my sister’s funny button.
    A little message from Mink for Scotch:
    About the cam raw…just watch for Clog Daddy to put it on a table and then a tack. That’s what paws are for! I a tack everything my mummy puts on MY table … you would think she would learn – but no – she keeps putting things on it and then saying bad words when I put them off. And I get NO treats becoose mummy says I’m too fat- please!!! have you seen my mummy??? PS can you recommend a good lawyer cause I see her coming with the cam raw!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Dear Mink,

      A tacking is fun! I learned all about that when I was just a little ginger blob and I never, ever forgot it. But sometimes I mess up and I tack my own things and then I lose them cuz they roll too fast for me to chase. It’s very sad but then I forget about it two seconds later when one of my daddies leaves something else in a place I can reach. Then more tacking!

      Scotch
      P.S. Sending private text about lawyers. Always have one!

      Like

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