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Monday, December 29, 2003
It looks like we'll be getting a henchcat soon. Very soon. I have heard the humans discussing it, and it seems as though the male will be picking this one out. That is dreadful. His mind is so weak that he will probably fall for the first mangy thing that he sees. We are being nice to him because we want him to pick out a good henchcat for us. We need someone strong but not too smart to do our bidding. We don't want an idiot, or a savant, just someone to help us take over the world.
It better not look like us. We hope that it is an ugly grey cat with white fur on its chin and belly. Maybe it will even have white paws. That would be truly horrendous. We keep hearing a loud snapping in the lower cave, accompanied by a mouse-like gack-ing sound. We do not know what it is, but we hope that the mice come into the cave so we can eat them.
We can hear them in the walls.
Friday, December 12, 2003
A Kitten’s Tale
by
feya
I always knew that I was not like other cats.
For as long as I can remember, this was my calling. My first memories as a kitten were of preparing for landing, documenting my research, and sleeping in the cardboard boxes we used as barracks. My mission was clear. I was to be dropped on a planet called Earth, far from my home world, and would spend perhaps my whole life infiltrating the human civilization under the lowly guise of a family pet.
Normally, something like this would be too lowly to be accepted, especially since I came from a very powerful pride whose den sat high on a steep hill. However, if we were to invade this planet, and turn the humans into a food source, we needed intelligence. So I was volunteered for this crucial mission.
My litter-mates were still suckling our mother when I left home. I knew that I would only ever see my family again if the invasion occurred within 15 cycles. If not, perhaps the next generation would savor our victory.
It was early in the morning on the day we left. I looked out across my world, thinking of the trees I would never climb, the fields of catnip that I would never run through, the litters I would never tend to. It was always warm on my planet, and all of the predators had been long since vanquished. One could play all night and nap wherever one wanted, within the constraints of one’s pride land.
For a moment, I was overwhelmed by the sense of loss, but then the moment passed. We were loaded into the transfer pod, a very strange contraption that harnessed a combination wormhole/n-dimension physics engine. We would not actually travel to Earth, but we weren’t quite teleporting either. (I was only six weeks old, so I did not grasp the science, but it was based on relatively little-known exceptions to traditional physics that allow travel from one point to another in less than a straight line. Think folding a slice of paper in half and connecting the dots.)
The trip took two weeks, and when we arrived, we infiltrated a business known as an ‘animal shelter’, a strange undertaking whereby humans pay for mangy animals that they then take home and feed. Ironically, if they were to do that with another human, they would be considered crazy or stupid.
Once in the shelter, we posed as stray kittens that needed a home, and when humans came in, we would decide amongst ourselves which of us would go with which humans, after scanning them and evaluating them for intellect and social standing. Then all of us would act obnoxious or sick while the chosen kitten would act adorable. This worked almost every single time.
Many of the humans brought with them small humans, which I found out are called ‘children’, their offspring. Humans, stupid and inefficient as they are, only have one at a time. These children would chase and grab at us, want to take us all home, and be generally disrespectful of our glory. But they drop a lot of food, so some of us would go with them.
My situation was different. I was one of the last of my pod group. There were only two of us left, and I had been selected by a group of humans that neither myself nor my pod-mate wanted. They did not fit the profile we were looking for. You can’t conquer the Earth when you live with Spam-eaters.
So just when things were looking grim, we hatched a plan. My pod-mate was waiting to be picked up by his new hosts, and I was in purgatory. Then this human woman comes in and starts looking at the cats and kittens. A quick scan indicated that she fit our profile, though she was on the low end of acceptability. We were hoping for a couple, but here we had this woman. The scan indicated that her clothes were scruffy and worn, but she had a shiny VW key in her pocket and a pair of shiny rings on her finger. We have a winner. I had to get out of there.
Now we had to scheme. LegScratcher, my normally tacit pod-mate, started climbing the front of our pen while yelling for the female to come over, while I sat quietly in the back of the pen, watching. Five minutes later, the female was playing with us. One hour later, we were napping in a cardboard box headed to our new home.
There was indeed a male, and it turned out that he is very successful in human terms. He has what humans consider to be a very attractive and frisky mate, and has provided the three of us with very large living quarters. Plus he gives good head-rubbin’.
The time has gone by quickly, and our plans advance slowly. I continue to chronicle the humans’ activities in hope to one day rejoin my sisters on Bast Prime.
We found out this light that the male is famous! We admit that we have held him in little respect, and no awe, but today we saw him on the Bird Show!
We were watching the Bird Show from our favorite viewing location(with our bum on the eating hill where the male eats his kibble) when suddenly, the male walks right onto the Show, takes down the Bird Feed Tube, and fills it up! The birds, meanwhile, dispersed into the trees while he did this. Then he just stands there while the birds fly around him.
Now we are all confused. On the one paw, we think that maybe he should be treated better, since he is connected with the birds. On the other paw, he could have grabbed one of those little birds and brought it to me for me to eat. Yet he did not do this. Even in fame, he is unworthy of us.
We think that someone is getting a bite on the leg when they return to the cave at dark.
Magic fingers! That male, curse his tasty flesh, knows how to pet a feline! When he got his smelly body off of the sleeping hill this light, we were berating him, when he grabbed us, rubbed our head and belly, then put us in the wicker hamper. They love abuse, these humans!
So we followed him around berating him some more, and he rubbed our head and neck for quite a while. It's too bad that we can't kill him but keep his hands around. Maybe turn them into a massaging chair.
We have been hearing a lot of talk of 'buddies' lately, and we don't know what it means. The female is involved, though, so it can't be good.
Wednesday, December 10, 2003
The world would be perfect if we could be paw-fed hamburgers while having our head rubbed. Purrrr-fect!
Monday, December 08, 2003
We haven't received any feedback on the buddy candidates, but that doesn't bother us since they probably wouldn't pass the fire test anyway. Many of our candidates don't. The fire test, in case you are so stupid that you need an explanation(and if you're a hairless monkey, you no doubt are) is where we flick a lit match on you and see how you react.
The typical response is to run around like mad screeching until the flame goes out or the entire cave is engulfed in flames. As we said, few pass the test.
We have been very lazy lately, as one light passes into the next uneventfully. The male taunts us with his toes, the female asks us if we want a buddy, we leave hairballs in obscure places when the humans go hunting.
There was some excitement these past few lights. There was this white stuff blowing around everywhere outside the cave, and it was very windy. The openings of the cave have a layer higher than us on them, and we are roughly one grand cubit tall. More if our tail is up.
The male was doing his usual insanity, running around outside with some loud box that blows the white stuff all over the place, including the places it just was. He really confounds our logical abilities. If he were a math problem, he would be "How many ping pong balls does it take to fill a black hole?" A feline, of course would intuitively know the answer to this problem. We'll let you stew over it for a while, and will, perhaps, tell you later. Fool!
The humans barely left the caves these past few lights. They would just go from one cave to another, eating, drinking, chasing after us. Why can't they just leave us alone?!? Why just this light, after the male came back to the cave smelling of what we now know is called 'clo-reen', we were verbally abusing him, telling him how useless and stupid he was, when he suddenly picks us up and starts rubbing our belly and head at the same time. Then he carried us up to the cave where the female was cooking her fur, and she started fawning over us too!
These humans just love abuse. It wobbles the mind.
Argh. Yawwwwwnn! We must nap now. Humans exhaust us.
Wednesday, December 03, 2003
We have received numerous applications for the position of henchcat. This is quite interesting for two reasons: First, we had not advertised for a henchcat. Second, some of the candidates are very impressive. We are sure that we will find that the female is involved in this somehow. It stinks of her handiwork.
We must nap while we cogitate upon her punishment. For now, consider this:
The Candidates
Tuesday, December 02, 2003
We just found out that the female, who was kind enough to be a good slave and make us a template, did not know our proper name! She always calls us by the human gangsta nickname "Poops", which shows great respect, but has been asking us "why do all the posts say Fearsome?" for quite some time, so we dispatched the male to clue her in. Sometimes we feel like we're talking to ourseves. But at least we are a worthy, attentive, and appreciative audience. We have spent a lot of time napping in cardboard boxes lately. That and attacking the male. He is so weak and pathetic. We would slay him and feast for weeks, but based on how his gnarled paws taste, it would not be an enjoyable feast.
Dear Bast! Could the lights possibly get any shorter?!?
Monday, December 01, 2003
We have spent a lot of time in the wicker basket lately. The lights have been very short, and we need lots of napping. The humans have been around a lot the past several lights, which means it is difficult for us to gain access to the network.
A couple of darks ago they made a nest in front of the fire hole and listened to something called Portishead on the noise box. They also drank a lot of that blood water we told you about before. It was very fun because we went to the upper cave and had the whole sleeping hill to oursleves.
Last light, the humans went out early and came back very close to dark. when they did return, they smelled of another cat and also of large dog. We will have to look into whether they are keeping another cave, and have another master. We will not tolerate another master. We might have use for an underling to do our bidding, and perhaps even to help us repress the humans, but this will be our decision, not theirs.
But then, would we want a catful underling or a dogful underling? We could certainly use both; The cat could assist us with the humans, while the dog would be an excellent scapegoat and mobile napping surface. An additional cat would also be handy because we could use them as a scapegoat for things that were feline in nature. We shall have to think about this.
For now, we nap.
