Friday, December 17, 2010

Dear Angus

I realize you are still getting used to the whole 'living inside with people' thing, but there are a couple of things that we need to talk about.

First of all, humans are animals who rely on sight rather than smell to idividuate amongst family members. In other words, I know what you look like, I do not need to sniff your butt in order to recognize you. So, really, you don't have to push that part of your anatomy in my face when I'm reading on the couch, however helpful you feel you are being.

Also, though I am ecstatic that you know how to use your litterbox and use it often, I need to tell you that it is not necessary to spend 10 minutes piling all the litter in the box into a scale model of Mt. Fuji before pooping right on the tippy top of the mountain. And afterwards, you don't really need to ensure that every last grain of clumping kitty litter has been piled on top of the evidence. Your enthusiasm is charming, but it's creating a lot of extra vacuuming.

Max is your friend. Please don't lurk on the arm of the couch and then launch a flying kamikaze attack on him when he's only trying to get to the kitchen for a bite to eat.

And, last but not least, we *will* feed you. Always. I know you still worry about where your next meal is coming from, that's to be expected in a former feral kitty. But we will always make sure you have something to eat. I hope you enjoyed the rotini with pesto that you knocked off the counter last night.

Sincerely,

Alison

P.S. Thanks for not destroying the Christmas tree. We were worried about that.

10 comments:

  1. Anonymous11:46 AM

    Angus. God I love that name for a cat!

    - Jazz

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  2. I don't need a cat - I can just read about yours :)

    Jo is a bit like the Angus when it comes to food - seemingly worried that he may never eat again. I wonder if he was feral?

    -Meanie

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  3. Did your girls name him after that movie, Angus, thongs and perfect snogging?

    I laughed out loud at this post!

    Merry Christmas to you, the girls and your pets. ;-)

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  4. Jazz - Yes. Me too!!!

    Meanie - Did he show up one day in your yard? Did you entice him up on the back deck with a bowl of kibble? Did you catch him in a cat carrier? If you answered yes to any of these questions, then Jo might have been feral.

    Sarah - Sort of. I didn't see the movie, but he's named after Angus in the book - Angus, Thongs and Full-Frontal Snogging by Louise Rennison.

    Merry Christmas to you and Hannah and Simon!

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  5. So what you're saying is, when we come to visit next summer, I should not greet you by sticking my butt in your face? Also, are you saying that I should not make a big mess when I go poop? What exactly are your thoughts on my leaping off the furniture on top of you whenever you enter the room? I'd like to get this all straight before we come up there and ruin U.S.-Canada relations.

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  7. Dear Alison:

    Cats can't read. You're totally screwed. Of course, I have these same types of conversations with MY Angus and the results are pretty much the same as writing a letter to a cat.

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  8. Just thought I should warn you: when our former feral cat finally twigged that food would always, always appear in her bowl, she decided to get all generous. She would bring us little gifts - a sort of thank you if you will - of little piles of the amazing unending cat food. Particularly enjoyable if you discover said piles when barefoot.

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  9. OMG too funny! I had to read this one out loud to Hus, as we have a former feral cat here too! And an old man cat that likes to pile the litter up.

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  10. Found you from Mrs G's place. I lived in Ottawa for 10 years before moving to the US. And I love your cat!

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