Did we REALY Need ANOTHER Dawg?...Asks Kat

Hi, fellow KiddyKats; it's me, Boots the Kat, senior FurKid at Phred's Ranch for Lost and Abandoned Creatures...

I arrived, courtesy of the dog-torn screen door, one summer evening as a lil' tiny kitten freshly dumped by a two-legger on the road in front of Dad's house. I struggled up the lawn towards the house and managed to get past Shadow, the Shepherd/Husky that owned Dad and thought she was top dog in a one dog house. Scared to cr@p outa Dad when I hopped up onna end table an *meowed* at him while he was noddin' off in front of the TV box. I jumped on his lap, made *hungry noises* and revved up my purr motor so loud the Shadow heard it from the porch and jumped through the screen to 'vestigate. Dad made Shadow leave me alone so's he could call the neighbors an find out where I belonged...

Nobody said they had "lost" me, so I got a bowl of old stale Kat Crunch that was left over from when Fred the former Kat, who had gone to the Rainbow Bridge, was living with Dad. I was smart, for a liddel biddy black kitten, and real quick pee/pooped in the old litter box that Dad dusted off and filled up with skratch. That got me an overnight pass to stay inside inna baffroom. Rest is history. Shadow got a few butt-smacks to adjust her attitude those first few days, and I made sure to only poddy inna litter box. Ahh, Home Sweet Home!

A year after I arrived our Shadow had a terrible axkadent and went to the Bridge after only being with Dad for five years. We were both sad so Dad searched for 'nother dog to keep us company and give me somebody to keep in line. He drove way down to West Virginny to spring Cinder Dog from a doggy jail brought her home one Saturday. WOW! Was she a handful when she got home!

Since she was *new*, and only 6 monthe old, Dad dint wanna *smack* her when she bothered me, but we were both worried 'bout my *safety*. ('Specially me!) Cinder spent a couple nights inna basement, tied to her time out wall; then she graduated to being tied to a table or the bed at night. She always goes to *work* with Dad so's I've got quiet days alone guarding the ranch house by myself. Only took me a few weeks to Hiss, Spit an' Grooowwwl my way into reasonable control over the *New Dawg* problem. Cinder and Me are now best buds an' wrassel, play fight, and in general kick each other's butt all over the house. Life is (or WAS) good!

That all changed Janeairy 21st when I heard the *noises* onna front porch. That was the night SmudgePot got dumped out front of the Ranch and camped out on the porch. Well good ol' Cinder Dog trots out to 'vestigate an' the next thing I know she's draggin' the Smuge inta the house and Dad starts makin' lovies to this Scrawny Mutt that nobody knows. The whole sordid Tail is told in gory detail on the Dawg Topics at: http://PetoftheDay.com/talk/Forum7/HTML/000036.html

Now just lemmie tell y'all how much of a shock this has been to my dillikat world! It's taken me 18 months to get the Cinders whipped into shape to where I'm comfortable with sharin' the ranch house with her - and now I gotta' start all over with SmudgeMutt !

Typical problem happened just this mornin'... Can't cozy on the bed 'cause Cinder an the SmokeMutt are both hogging all the soft spots around Dad, so I make space by cleaning off some of the *stuff* on the dresser and wait for somebody to get up. Dad's sitti' onna white water bowl inna baffroom and I'm doin' my usual leg rubbin' and got my motor revved up so's he'll pull to food bag out of the closet an fill my bowl. Got my eyes closed, turnin' circles around his foots, and I feel what I thunk was Cinner's snoot givin' me a morning howdy. I look up and it's the SmudgePot givin' me the nose job! Quick as a flash I stand up and give him three fast *bops* onna nose wiff my fist-paws and beat a retreat inta my shower clubhouse! Wow what a scare! The nerb o' that Mutt to infringe on my space!

Now I ask you other Kats; is this what you guys have ta put up with in your houses? Do your Hoomin Two-Leggers drag new critters inta your dens wifout askin' if it's OK with youse? I was willing to share with ONE Dawg an' not get too upset and nasty over the deal. But now there's TWO of them darn Mutts takin' up space and cuddle time with Dad.

What's a Kat ta do? Anybody got an idea of what we can do? And don't even *THINK* about addin' another Kat - my house just isn't big 'nuff for that! ...An' how come I'm not listed in the UserName thingy - I wanna 'puter at home that I can use to post with!

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/s/ Cinder & Smokey
the Rescued & Adopted
FurKids of *Phred*

[Pam]

Hey Kat.....It's Trevor and Andy here. We own the folks at this house and it has been feline heaven around here for almost three years. When we arrived on the scene several years ago there were two poodle dogs living here (one big standard and one smaller one that the humans called a miniature). They sure scared us and in the beginning we even used to hide!! The humans were real nice to supervise so as we didn't get hurt. Well, back in '96 the big standard went to the Rainbow Bridge. The humans came home one night and found her that way on the sofa. The vet (not our favorite person.....he sticks us with needles and takes our temperatures and doesn't put the thermometer in our mouths, if you get my drift....) said she probably had a heart attack. Well, the humans sat around for weeks with lots of liquid coming out of their eyes. Finally things started to return to normal. I think the other poodle really missed her friend, although she never did say anything to us about it and there was no water in her eyes but she sure acted funny for the longest time. Then about 2 years after the first doggie went to the Bridge the other one joined her. She was very sick and had lived 14 years. The humans again went into the same strange behavior and the liquid was pouring out of their eyes again. They said they were never going to get another dog because they couldn't stand the heartache (not sure we know what it means to have your heart ache). I don't think it's something an aspirin would fix, though, 'cause they sure would have taken some.

Well, us two kitties have been living in feline bliss for almost 3 years, calling all of the shots and having all of the attention we deserve. No dogs barking to wake us up from our very important nap times or trying to get down in the basement and sniffing what's in our litter boxes. (We always thought that was so rude). Now the humans are talking about bringing another pup into the household again. The lady human has even been on the computer writing to what she calls "breeders" because the man human wants to try to find a pup just like the ones that went to the Rainbow Bridge. We were thinkin' of deletin' her e-mails so as she couldn't hear back from anybody but didn't get to do it in time. Two people have written back. I don't know what's in store for us, Kat, but we will keep you posted. We have a strange feeling deep down in our "cat guts" that our lives are gonna change soon......

Hey, Trev and Andy ~ Boots the Kat back atcha.

You Kitties will be in purty good shape if the Hoomins get a *pup* for you guys to bring up. It'll be a lil' tiny thing that ought ta be reel stoopid when it comes to dealin' with Kats - play your kards rite an you two will be Top Kats in a two against one cirkus. And if it's a mini-doodle, it'll be so small you guys will look like GIANTs when it gets there! Do your best to keep away from the Hoomins the first day - they'll for sure get the Klaw-Klippers out an' try ta chop your knives down ta nuffin so's you can't *spike* the little pup thingy, but you'll always have your toofs to use as *edukational enhancements* to get his attention and teach him who the bosses are inna house.

I've always been the short fork in the drawer at my house though; Shadow was full grown *BIG* when I first moved in, and Cinder and the new SmudgePot were both in the 35-40 pound weight class when they were thrust upon me. Cinder thinks she's a Sumo-wressler and is alla time tacklin' me an ruff-housin' wiff her paws an her mouf, so I've learnt ta fight kinda dirty-like. Here's the trick:

Attack srtait-on towards the head, standin' on your back legs wiff you front arms spread wide an' knives out. The stoopid dawg will pick her head up, exposin' the neck - which is your target. Latch on wiff both arms around the neck, tuck your headbone in tight to the Mutt's neck, an' swing your rear legs under the chest an' tummy. *Chonk* down onna neck or cheek wiff your toofs and start kickin the soft parts unnerneath wiff you hind legs. Works ever time! You're in so close the dummie dawg can't use her mouth on your bod, nor can she paw you off wiff her legs, 'cause them are what's holdin' ya both up! Hang on tight, 'cause she's gonna shake ya like a sack-a-taters, but it's worth the wild ride! If ya start ta loose your grip or get too dizzy, leggo reel quick and jump on sumpin high-up and wait for the fur to settle. Trust me, with your 2:1 odds, you guys will have a blast! I gotta be a liddel more careful now, what with having to deal with both Cinder and her new goon of a 'sistant, the SmudgePot. But he's still a little timid and I can scare him off wiffa big toothy *grin* anna Hiss-Growl. Plus Dad hollers at both of 'em if they start ta tag-team me.

Don't sweat it - you'll both do fine with whatever your Hoomins drag home.

Best o' Luck! /s/ Boots, the Kat



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/s/ Cinder & Smokey
the Rescued & Adopted
FurKids of *Phred*

[Pam]

Hey there again Kat.....Re-read your post over our human's head and now we are scared. We forgot about the times that the miniature dog would lay on the lady human's lap while she was readin' all laid out on the recliner. We have been takin' lotsa naps there and it's a great place to snooze and purr. More to worry about. Wait a minute! I think I just read where they are gonna get a standard (the big kind of poodle). The last standard always had to lay on the floor 'cause she was too big to fit in a lap even though she used to try. We will still have our lap space. Whew!!!

Kat, thanks for the suggestions about tacklin' the new pup, but we are 'er....'um.....sorta handicapped in that area. My human has admitted that she did us wrong. When we went to that nasty ole vet to get our male urges taken care of, she told him to take off our razors. She feels bad now because the folks that she listens to here on the 'puter told her it was wrong. We forgive her 'cause she never had a cat before, but just wanted you to know that won't work. Don't worry though we'll put our kitty heads together and come up with something.

Gosh, Trev and Andy - no klaw-knives? How inna world do you manage to climb onna furniture and up the drapes inna house? But then maybe your furniture doesn't look quite as *tattered* as the stuff in my house.

But there's another way to get you message to a dawg - ya always have the teefs in your mouff. A good *chonk* onna earbone is bound to get the 'tenshun of even the *slowest* dogmutt. And a reel loud Hiss-Growl, with a lotta kat spits, can make 'em think you're the size of a Lion!

And start learning how to make a fist-paw by curlin' up your toes and bashin' the pillows. A well-clenched paw makes a reel scary sound when ya *bonk* a mutt on top of it's nosebone! They're eyes get big as dinner plates!

More tips later... /s/ Boots, the Kat

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/s/ Cinder & Smokey
the Rescued & Adopted
FurKids of *Phred*

[Pam]

Hey Kat....Andy and Trev again. Boy are we in trouble. The lady human logged on and read what we wrote and sure did give us a lecture. Went on and on about how we are all gonna "get along" when the pup comes. Told us there would be no ganging up and bein' in cahoots with each other.

Actually we got along pretty good with the other canines and hope we can start out on the right paw with this one.

I guess we're just a little jealous since the canines got to run around outside and chase squirrels and rabbits, and the miniature one even brought a chipmunk up on the deck with its tail hangin' outta her mouth. Boy, what we would have given to be able to do that!!! Since we have no razors we live inside. We don't mind too much though 'cause sometimes we get to catch moths or flies when they come inside, and a coupla times we even got to kill some crickets that were hoppin' around in the basement.

By the way Kat, are you a boy or a girl? Can't tell with a name like Boots, ya know. Anyway, we'll let you know more as we find out what's gonna happen, but we gotta be careful now 'cause the lady human is gonna monitor our notes to you.

[This message has been edited by Pam (edited February 11, 2001).]

Yo, Andy & Trev ~ Me again, Boots, the HE Kat (or at least I used to be a he kat) ~

Dad wasn't too sure about the boy/gurl things? when I arrived, since I was so small. I got the unisex name 'count of the two white feet and legs inna back and the white toes up front. Plus I got a reely great set of all white whiskers to stand out against the black face and body. The White Coat's office gurl said they'd make a reservation for a fixin' and decide what flavor I was when I got there. When they got done with me I had lost alotta fur and my rear end was being held together with some string. Dad alluz sez I'll never miss what I lost cuz I'm never, ever allowed outside. Closest I get to an outie is a ride to the White Coat's place for ouwie shots or to the Fire Station for another ouwie at the county rabies klinik.

You guys should ask your Mom to ease up on readin' your mail. Part of "gettin' along" wiffa Dawg is to make sure the durn Mutt knows enough ta keep his paws an toofs offen you Kiddies. Since every Mutt ever built seemed to come with a pre-programmed desire to cause grief and great bodily harm to all members of the Kat Fambly, youse guys should otta be allowed to start his attutide readjustment before any kats get hurt. And if Mom gives you too much static, sign up fer your own UserName an' post on your own.

So you understand that my tips akshoolee work, lemmie tell you about this morning's events at Phred's Ranch... Seems dear ol' Dad decided the SmudgePot mutt was actin' purtdy well inna house so's the Mutt dint get tied to the bed wiffa leash last nite. Course nobody bothers ta tell yours truly the Kat that the lil' Wild Indian isn't secured. I trots inta the bunkroom this AM to jump up onna winno sill and watch the burds inna back yard, knowing I can travel unner the head of the bed without gettin' within leash-reach of the Mutt. So what happens? Go ta sit me butt down and *schlurrrp* - I gets a butt lick from the SmudgeMutt, standin' unner the winno! I *screamed* and left the room inna hurry, but since I started early training on the Mutt, he wisely jumped back onna bed and dint give chase. After my heart stopped goin' *ker-thumpety-thump* I snuck back to see how that coulda happened. Jumped onna bed, klaw-razors at the ready and my best toofy *grinnn* flashing for botha the Mutts ta see, and *YIPES!* the liddel Mutt ain't tied! Me heart was goin' *ker-thumpety-thump-thump* this time, but I stood my ground wiffa low *Growllll* and woke Dad up by standin' on his tummy. He kinda *squiggled* around and made a liddel spot for me and gave me a rub. SmudgePot just looked at me an' laid back down onna bed. Fear of the Kat's superior weapons put him rite in his place!

So ya see, Guys, a small amount of earlee training, with just a touch of force as required, can turn any DawgMutt into a livable housemate.

Hope yer Mom unnerstans...
Happy Tails from Boots, the Kat



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/s/ Cinder & Smokey
the Rescued & Adopted
FurKids of *Phred*

[Pam]

Hey there Kat, it's Trev and Andy again......Not much happening on the new doggie situation. The humans are still talking but no canine on the scene yet. Did ya see today's Cat of the Day? She is a real "babe" called Aspen. Now that we know you're one of the guys we can sorta talk that way without being accused of "sexual harrassment." Anyway, the humans pointed her out to us in particular. Her story said "she is absolutely great with my dog too." They let us know that they expect no less from us. We're gonna try and do our part, but we are sure hopin' for a little "canine cooperation." Keep you posted, Kat. Our thoughts are with you livin' now with 2 canines. Keep the faith fella!

[4 feline house]

Well, Boots, Peaches here, and it wasn't my humans that're responsible for our crowded house, it's me! It's my own fault that I have to share everything - the beds, the food bowls, the laps...almost two years ago I was wandering around my neighborhood as usual. I was feeling kinda sluggish because my little belly seemed to be expanding. That's when I saw some nice lady on the sidewalk, and I just followed her in her house like I belonged there. I didn't think she'd mind since she kept saying "kitty kitty" to me. Well, all the fuss! Next thing I know she's flying out of the house with some little jangly things called "keys" and she comes back a little later with some little cans of some really yummy stuff. She then dragged something she called a "kitty kup" out of the laundry room, along with a special little box for me to doody in. She said something about some babies that had gone to the rainbow bridge that used to use them. I liked it all so much that I decided to stay, but having been abused, thrown out and abandoned by my last human, I didn't let them get real close to me. I slept under the bed and mostly came out when the boy human was at his friend's and the woman human was at work. Then one day the woman human noticed my little titties were a little swelled up, and said something about babies. I got to really like my humans 'cause they were so nice and would let me get in their laps. After awhile she made me a nice comfy little box that she called a nursery, and to show her how happy I was, I got in it one day popped out three little brats for her. But if I had known she was going to keep them, I might not have done that! Sometimes my woman human looks at me and says "peaciepee, can you b'lieve you da one what give birf to all dese brats?" (I think she thinks she's speaking "cat") and I just look at her with a tired look and think "no". I have no one to blame but myself. sigh....

[This message has been edited by 4 feline house (edited February 13, 2001).]

Boots, here ~ Wow, three kids and all were keepers! If you'd only known 'fore it was too late, huh Peach? At least you're not dealing with *Dawgs* that are 5 times bigger'n you like I have to put up with!

Only time I see other Kats is when the mob of ferals that live inna horsey barn hind our place send a couple of the gang down ta make trouble at the house. They like ta show up onna back steps when our glass slider wall is open an they can snarl in thru the screen wall. If they gets reelee nasty, I have Dad getta glassa wadder an toss it thru the screen wall - that usually sends 'em packin back to their barn!

Do you get out much, or are you an insider only like me? I wish I could go out ta chase the burds, but I like not havin' ta worry about other aminuls beatin' up on me or maybee getting locked out inna rain or snow.

Purr atcha later, Peaches. /s/ Boots the Kat

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/s/ Cinder & Smokey
the Rescued & Adopted
FurKids of *Phred*

[4 feline house]

Boots-

Well, I used to be able to roam the streets as I please, but my mom reminds me that's how I turned from one cat into four, and she won't let me out anymore, even though she had that man in the white coat take my babymaker out. But sometimes I sneak! The easiest times is when she's bringing in those plastic bags that are so yummy but somtimes hug you too tight that are full of nice things to eat, or when she's bringing in hot clothes from the white box in the little house outside. Sometimes I decide a snack from the stuff in the bags or a snooze in the hot clothes is better though. I taught my boy kid how to run past her legs, too, and since he's twice my size he gets by more than me. But my girl kids are too afraid most of the time. When I'm ready to come back in I stand on the pumpkin on the porch and try to take the screen off. I don't know why, because I still wouldn't know how to get the clear wall off once I got the screen off! But my mom always hears me and comes and gets me. But mostly all four of us sit side by side with our chins on the window sill and watch all the leaves and birds and trash fly by the window. It's not so bad, though. I mostly have to stay inside now, but the tradeoff is I'm never hungry like I was alot before, and I have a warm, dry place to sleep in winter and a cool place to chill in the summer. And a few tummies to make biscuits on when I feel like it. And a big white bowl that's always full of water. Can't find that stuff on the streets, Boots, so don't be feeling too sorry for yourself!

Boots here, again ~

Lemmie answer the topic title question - And the answer is? A big, fat, NO!

Now before Saturday nite I mighta said it was sorta OK. That's all changed now! Can you believe this...?

Cinder, Dad, and SmudgePot all vacate the house and go off car ridin'. I'm home, mindin my own business till they come back for dinner and TV watchin. Bed time rolls around and the Mutts get sent on their outies and then everbody sacks out inna bunkroom. Dad's trottin inta the bunkroom when he eagle-eyes *The Wet Spot* onna bunkroom carpet . Next thing I know I'm snatched offa the typewriter , where I'd been sleepin, my nose gets rubbed on *the Spot*, I gets a butt smack, and put into isolation inna baffroom. Does anybody bother to *ask* iffin I dun it? Heck no, guilty 'cause it looks like a kat-sized spot .

Well durin' the mop-up, Dear ol Dad starts to wunder when it takes three paper towels to make a dent inna puddle. *Then* he notices the dribble marks onna wall *AND* the long wet mark along the baseboard. Took another 6 or 7 towels affore that one was picked up; then he spots nother puddle in fronta the closet door. That's about when he decides my tank isn't that big and I probably can't *squirt* that high uppa the wall.

Yeah; guess who? The SmudgePot started *skreemin* before Dad even got ahold of him. Cinder says he was yelpin and wailin so bad Dad only gave him one butt smack fore he got hauled inta the basement and tied up onna time-out wall for the resta the night.

At least I got a 'pology from Dad. He gived me a buncha kisses (how's that DOG pee taste, Dad?) He carried me inta the bunkroom and fluffed a place onna bed for me. I thanked him for his concern by trottin back to my typewriter and cuddled up next ta the stuffed dog what sleeps there inna den. A good pout, all by yerself, helps ta make the Hoomins feel reel bad.

I came back an danced around onna bed and his tummy a good hour afore the buzzer went off this mornin. That got me a nice body rub an a lotta *good kitties*. I figgure I can milk this mistake for a least a week, assuming I don't skrew up something on my own .

And look out SmudgePot - you OWE me big time! You'll be paying me off for so long yer gonna furget what you did!

/s/ Boots, the I-dint-do-it Kat



[This message has been edited by Cinder & Smoke (edited February 18, 2001).]

[Logan]

Kat,
We are hoping that you, Cinder and Smokey don't really get smacked or spanked by your dad. Do you?? Our mom can get pretty ripped up sometimes, but she really doesn't believe in hitting us. Please don't exaggerate. We know how bad it can be to be fussed at, let alone the smacking part.
Love,
Butter and Mimi

Thanks for worryin about us, Butter & Mimi ~

But a *butt smack* for me is Dad cocking his finger and snappin me once onna butt. Iffin the Dawgs are reely bad, they might get a finger snap onna butt or on their tails, whichever is closer. Nobody ever gets a reel spankin 'cause then we'd start to be 'fraid of bein touched. Dad's purdy kool about punishment when we skrew up - we know when we've dun a no-no by the way he talks to us.

My big sin is when I pee over the side of the litter box ta suggest that the skratch is gettin damp an needs to be tossed out as grass fertilizer . I know he got the message when I hear the **KAT** rollin outta the baffroom. I just slip inta my KatHouse (the shower/tub) and lay low till he washes out the box and fills 'er up with fresh skratch. I dunno why he thought I was the one that pee'd inna bunkroom last nite.

Cinder's such a do-gooder she almost never gets hollered at 'cept when she dribbles wadder outta her mouff all ober the kitchen floor an Dad tramps in it ! When she's late returning from an outie she just doesn't get her biskit .

SmudgePot was the favorite son as far as never even gettin hollered at - till last nite when his luck ran out! Since he was an *abused child* he never got more than a wagging finger an a dirty look when did a no-no. Last nite he started yelpin' when Dad just called his name reel loud - guess he figgured out that the tone of Dad's voice hinted there was a problem .

/s/ Boots, the Kat

[RachelJ]

This is Hannah the Dog, coming over to this board to see what in creation all this CAT business is about since Mom stopped inta the PetsMart today and they hadda CATS in the adoption place and she comes back home talking about wouldn't we want to have us our very own CAT as part of da family. She's liking this one called Jeramy and going on and on and on about how pretty and loving he seemed and how he was a beautiful big boy and needed a home. So I stops over here to check out this CAT business and I am in a state of SHOCK! I can't cope with the likes of you critters! I have got to go to bed and wake up and find out all this CAT stuff was a bad dream. In the meantime, to make sure none of this stuff gets off the ground.....DAD, I got to talk to YOU.