Last week my cat, Rocky, shared his “Dear Human” list with you. Since I am the sole two legged servant for this cheeky feline, one can reasonably assume I was the human he was addressing. Although amusing, Rocky’s anecdotes weren’t really what you’d call “fact based reporting.” To be clear, he made most of that stuff up. That cat does seem to like telling tall tales (tails?). I, on the other hand, have a journalism degree and so I have a code of ethics to uphold. No fables from me!
So…just as felines obviously have lots of things they want their human (aka the Butler) to know, we Cat People have things we need our furry companions to know. Here are a few.
Dear Cat: I have a very dependable alarm clock. If I need to get up at 5 a.m., the clock will let me know. I do NOT need your help. I don’t need you to lick my face, jump on my stomach, pull my hair, scratch the carpet, whine incessantly, or knock things off the dresser in an attempt to rouse me. When it’s time for your CANIDAE breakfast, you’ll be the first to know.
Dear Cat: Please stop swishing your big fluffy tail in my Caramel Macchiato coffee drink. I happen to like the taste of the caramel foam FAR more than I like cleaning it off the wall after you flick it there with your tail. I know you’re just trying to help me diet, but come on… the caramel foam is off limits!
Dear Cat: I appreciate that you want to help me with my housework by licking all the dirty dishes in the sink. I really do. But – and this is a BIG but – you leave a slimy residue on them, which pretty much defeats the purpose.
Dear Cat: Typing while your big, furry butt covers half of the keyboard is not as easy as you might think. Also, please stop putting my computer to sleep while I am trying to work, and quit hitting the delete key because you don’t think my writing is up to snuff. I’ll be the judge of that, thank you very much.
Dear Cat: Did the corner of my couch really seem like the best place to hack up that hairball? Doesn’t the Cat Handbook say you’re supposed to do that only on the carpet? Oh, and while I have your attention – would it be too much to ask that you not do this in the middle of the night? Waking up to that sound is worse than a nightmare!
Dear Cat: I happen to like leftovers. Sometimes I cook extra just so I’ll have something for the next day. So when you see food cooling on the kitchen counter, it’s not, I repeat NOT an invitation for you to help yourself. Ditto your attempt to eat my food out of the pan while it’s still cooking on the stove. That’s just not cool.
Dear Cat: I am happy to share my bed with you. I’m even fine with letting you sleep under the covers. But cat, I’m just not OK with the bits of kitty litter you leave on my sheets. Sure, sleeping on cat litter might be great for exfoliating my skin, but I have human products for that. So wash up before bedtime, or you’ll be catnapping elsewhere.
Dear Cat: There isn’t a single thing I do in the bathroom that requires your assistance. Enough said.
Dear Cat: Yes, I need to lose a few pounds. (Don’t we all?). That doesn’t give you permission to grab food off my plate or my fork, right in front of me. Yeah, yeah…you’re just being helpful, but stealing my chicken doesn’t help me lose weight – because I’ll just eat more dessert!
Dear Cat: Please stop trying to lay a guilt trip on me by pitifully crying when I remove you from my computer chair. I’m pretty sure my clients will not accept “the cat was sleeping on my chair” as a valid excuse for missing my copy deadline. And no – I CAN’T type while on my knees (I tried).
What would you say to your own feline friend in a “Dear Cat” letter?
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