Friday, November 23, 2007

Just Wait 'Til Your Dad Gets Home

Dear Rex:

I'm going to scold you now. It's really more for my therapeutic benefit than for any real cat behavior management, since you can't read, and if you could, your tastes would run more toward the "Gaslight Your Owners" blogs than this one.

Let me preface this scolding by saying that I do understand the irresistible draw of the sunbeam. Totally. I get it. Especially on this, the day after our national day of gluttony. I'm having trouble staying out of them myself.

But I now point out two things:
  1. You and the adversary cat with whom you share this home did not partake of said gluttony. On the contrary, we, your enslaved, were so distracted by our own indulgences that you barely got fed at all -- and after a long night of being walked all over by the tag-team that is you and Rosko, I have paid my debt to cat society, so you can stop playing the "you neglected us and we almost starved" card.
  1. This particular sunbeam is in a room in which you know you are not allowed.
I'm tired of chasing you out of the room. You know this. Clearly, you are taking advantage of my post-gluttony sloth (two... two... two deadly sins in one) and my susceptibility to the searing glare of your all-powerful cute.

So stop it. Stay out of the living room. Find another sunbeam. Because Dad will be home soon, and he is immune to all of your feline manipulations, including the patented crazed hypnotic stare. He, unlike me, will not be assimilated.

It's for your own good.

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