Guess who's back to his old shenaningans?

He's at it Again!

"Who?" you ask. "The s2bx? God? The Mailman?"


No, its Cheetah, of the Crouching Tabby fame, the furry little bastard.

Forgive me the anthropomorphizing here, but this cat has a real personality. Now we're down to a true battle of wills, and I, for one, am not going to cave to some green-eyed, ginger-haired devil, no matter how nice it is to have him lying against my stomach when I nap.

He doesn't like his new dry cat food. I bought it specifically for the health of his teeth and gums, since he's prone to problems, and he's "resistant" to having his teeth brushed. Ok, you little jerk, eat this special food since you don't want me to slip on that toothbrush condom-thingy and scrape your teeth. Believe me, I have no desire to do it. If I'd wanted to be a kitty-dentist, I'd have gone to Kitty Dentist School. Yeah. The furry menace tried to bite me the last time I attempted it. Ok then, new food. Ha!

Well, he finds the new dry food offensive. He knocks one piece of kibble out of his dish and then bats it around, chasing it through the kitchen, living room and dining room. I think he purposely aims it at my feet just to annoy me. I ignore it, much like I ignore my 4 year-old's whininess. When that doesn't work, he knocks a few pieces into his water dish, where they bloat up like revolting sponges - ok, I can't really blame him for not wanting to eat it, but I bought it, so tough. With the disgusting little kibble-balloons bobbing in his water dish, he can't drink his water.













Still, I do not take the hint as he sees it, so he perches on the counter right behind where I'm seated, green cat eyes boring holes into the back of my neck, and meows plaintively from time to time, just to remind me of his plight. Whenever I get up, he's there, weaving a figure eight between my ankles as I dash to the thermos for more coffee. Is he hoping that if I trip and knock myself unconscious I'll wake up ready to go to the store for some Friskies or MeowMix or something? Maybe he's planning on snacking on me. *shudder*

Sorry, buster. I'm digging in my heels. Eventually, you will get hungry/desperate enough to eat it, just like my girls' hunger eventually outweighs their distate for the green veggies I put in their pasta. I'm a Mean Mommy, and and I'm a Mean Cat Owner. Suck it up and deal, kids. You're not winning this battle.